sure which argument had worked, but finally Grandfather relented.
Yet by her second year at Arbor Brook, Grandfather was still gone more than he was home. Lonely and bored, Abigail at last made one friend, a girl named Kris Kensington.
It was fun sometimes to stay after school and hang around in Kris’s room at the dorm, even though Kris’s roommate, a girl named Betty Ann, was younger and tagged along all the time, trying to be grown up like them.
“I think of her like a kid sister,” Kris explained when Abigail complained that Betty Ann was a pest. “Besides, she has five brothers. Five! You never know when that might come in handy.”
Though Abigail wasn’t quite sure what Kris meant, she decided that if Betty Ann’s five brothers were important to Kris, surely Betty Ann must be important, too. So she said it was fine for Betty Ann to come along, which it was, because it meant being with Kris. And Abigail really liked Kris: Kris wasn’t afraid of anything, including Mr. Hamilton, the science teacher, and besides, it was kind of adventurous having a colored girl as a friend—a girl from South Africa, which Abigail had asked Louisa to show her on the big globe in the library back at the estate.
Early one autumn afternoon Abigail perched on the tightly made, dormitory-twin bed and watched Kris try to find an outfit for the parents’ tea next weekend, something different from the shapeless navy jumper that was the proper uniform of Arbor Brook girls. Kris pulled on a yellow shirtwaist dress and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror.
“I wonder if I’ll ever have boobs,” she commented, studying the straight line that went from her long neck to her toes.
Abigail frowned. “I don’t think we’re supposed to have them in the fifth grade.”
Kris ran her hands down the bumpless front of her dress. “Maddie Kavner has them.”
“Does not.”
“Does too. She wears a bra and everything.”
Abigail pushed her face into a pillow and howled. “Don’t tell me that! God! That’s disgusting!” She tossed away the pillow. “How do you know? Did Betty Ann tell you?” Kris’s five-brothered roommate had made friends with Maddie, who, like Abigail, commuted each day—though instead of arriving in a Rolls Royce, Maddie was delivered in a noisy Volkswagen.
“Betty Ann’s too young to know what boobs are.” Squinting, Kris leaned toward the mirror. “Should I wear short gloves or elbow-length with this?”
“With what?” came Betty Ann’s voice as she skipped into the room, followed closely by Maddie, the one with the boobs and the bra.
Abigail turned her head to avoid staring at Maddie Kavner’s chest, even though she was dying to look.
“Wow,” Betty Ann continued. “I love that dress.”
“I feel like a third grader at a birthday party,” Kris said, flopping down beside Abigail on the bed.
“My birthday’s this Friday,” Abigail said, her eyes locked on Kris.
“Mine’s next month,” Kris added.
“Oooh,” Betty Ann went on, “let’s have a party.” She quickly turned to Maddie, who was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “When’s your birthday, Maddie?”
“It was,” the girl answered. “I turned ten two weeks ago.”
“I won’t be ten until February,” Betty Ann said, “But I can pretend! Oh, please, let’s ask if we can have a party.”
The idea of eating dormitory food served on stainless steel trays repulsed Abigail. But a party was something else, something that Kris might like, too. “Let’s have a party at my house instead,” she said. “Just the four of us.”
“And we’ll celebrate together!” Betty Ann exclaimed. “All our birthdays at the same time.”
“I can bring my records,” Maddie said, stepping forward, two distinct golf ball shapes defining the front of her jumper. Abigail wondered if Maddie had formed them with socks. “I have Buddy Holly and Elvis.”
“So do I,” Abigail said, “and I have a new
Yet by her second year at Arbor Brook, Grandfather was still gone more than he was home. Lonely and bored, Abigail at last made one friend, a girl named Kris Kensington.
It was fun sometimes to stay after school and hang around in Kris’s room at the dorm, even though Kris’s roommate, a girl named Betty Ann, was younger and tagged along all the time, trying to be grown up like them.
“I think of her like a kid sister,” Kris explained when Abigail complained that Betty Ann was a pest. “Besides, she has five brothers. Five! You never know when that might come in handy.”
Though Abigail wasn’t quite sure what Kris meant, she decided that if Betty Ann’s five brothers were important to Kris, surely Betty Ann must be important, too. So she said it was fine for Betty Ann to come along, which it was, because it meant being with Kris. And Abigail really liked Kris: Kris wasn’t afraid of anything, including Mr. Hamilton, the science teacher, and besides, it was kind of adventurous having a colored girl as a friend—a girl from South Africa, which Abigail had asked Louisa to show her on the big globe in the library back at the estate.
Early one autumn afternoon Abigail perched on the tightly made, dormitory-twin bed and watched Kris try to find an outfit for the parents’ tea next weekend, something different from the shapeless navy jumper that was the proper uniform of Arbor Brook girls. Kris pulled on a yellow shirtwaist dress and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror.
“I wonder if I’ll ever have boobs,” she commented, studying the straight line that went from her long neck to her toes.
Abigail frowned. “I don’t think we’re supposed to have them in the fifth grade.”
Kris ran her hands down the bumpless front of her dress. “Maddie Kavner has them.”
“Does not.”
“Does too. She wears a bra and everything.”
Abigail pushed her face into a pillow and howled. “Don’t tell me that! God! That’s disgusting!” She tossed away the pillow. “How do you know? Did Betty Ann tell you?” Kris’s five-brothered roommate had made friends with Maddie, who, like Abigail, commuted each day—though instead of arriving in a Rolls Royce, Maddie was delivered in a noisy Volkswagen.
“Betty Ann’s too young to know what boobs are.” Squinting, Kris leaned toward the mirror. “Should I wear short gloves or elbow-length with this?”
“With what?” came Betty Ann’s voice as she skipped into the room, followed closely by Maddie, the one with the boobs and the bra.
Abigail turned her head to avoid staring at Maddie Kavner’s chest, even though she was dying to look.
“Wow,” Betty Ann continued. “I love that dress.”
“I feel like a third grader at a birthday party,” Kris said, flopping down beside Abigail on the bed.
“My birthday’s this Friday,” Abigail said, her eyes locked on Kris.
“Mine’s next month,” Kris added.
“Oooh,” Betty Ann went on, “let’s have a party.” She quickly turned to Maddie, who was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “When’s your birthday, Maddie?”
“It was,” the girl answered. “I turned ten two weeks ago.”
“I won’t be ten until February,” Betty Ann said, “But I can pretend! Oh, please, let’s ask if we can have a party.”
The idea of eating dormitory food served on stainless steel trays repulsed Abigail. But a party was something else, something that Kris might like, too. “Let’s have a party at my house instead,” she said. “Just the four of us.”
“And we’ll celebrate together!” Betty Ann exclaimed. “All our birthdays at the same time.”
“I can bring my records,” Maddie said, stepping forward, two distinct golf ball shapes defining the front of her jumper. Abigail wondered if Maddie had formed them with socks. “I have Buddy Holly and Elvis.”
“So do I,” Abigail said, “and I have a new
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