Chapter 14

Mike and Pete threw away their half-eaten soft pretzels and stood up. "Don't worry," I assured them. "This really wasn't my idea. You don't have to give me your opinion at all. Really." I could feel my cheeks burning, and I was determined to salvage at least a shred of my dignity.

"Just stand here and pretend to talk to me for a minute," I begged. "That should satisfy her, and then I can go give the dress back. I'm sorry that she put you on the spot like that. It really wasn't necessary. Kendra already pointed out how bad this thing looks on me!"

"Are you kidding?" Mike grabbed my hand and twirled me around. "This dress is great! You should definitely buy it."

"Yeah," Pete said, his eyes wide. "Is Kendra blind or something? How could she possibly say that this dress looks any less than phenomenal on you?"

Mike spun me around and wrapped his arms around my waist. He pulled me close and whispered in my ear, "Laina, you look delectable." His lips brushed my earlobe and I felt myself shiver at the touch.

"Mmmm..." he breathed. "Absolutely delicious."

I was enjoying the attention, but Mike's proximity was starting to make me a little bit nervous. I didn't want to give him any ideas. I placed both of my hands on his chest and pushed him away slightly. "So, the dress looks good, then?" I smiled. I wondered whether it would be rude to tell him to back off when he was in the middle of complimenting me.

Kendra joined us, and Mike loosened his hold on me, sparing me the trouble of trying to squirm out of his grasp. "So, Laina," she asked, "are you ready to hit the outlets? We'd better get going, or we are never going to find a dress that fits you before the stores close!"

Without warning, Pete grabbed my wrist and sat down on the bench, pulling me out of Mike's grasp and across his lap. I shrieked in surprise and then looked at him curiously. He didn't answer my questioning glance, challenging Kendra with an icy stare instead.

"Alaina has decided to stay here," Pete announced.

"Yep!" Mike chimed in. "She's already found a dress that fits just fine."

"Oh, I know it's fine," Kendra replied, "but Laina wants more than just fine. She wants to look good for the Fall Ball. And I am going to help her find the perfect dress."

Pete winked and gave me a little squeeze. "She's already found it. The only way that this dress would look better is if it were in a crumpled heap on my bedroom floor."

I don't know why guys always think that line is so clever, but you would not believe how often I hear it! I've been told that my jeans, my shirts, my dresses, even my band uniform would look really good in a crumpled heap on the floor of someone's bedroom.

I guess that they must think it is some kind of compliment. I think that it's extremely rude and degrading. I hate it! It makes me feel like I'm just an object, a piece of meat. I wanted to slap Pete! I managed to extract myself from his grasp and stormed back into the dressing room to change back into my safe and comfortable t-shirt and jeans. I bought the dress, though. I'm not sure why.

No one ever makes degrading comments like that to Kendra. Or to Andi. But I hear them all of the time. I don't understand it. What makes the guys think that I would enjoy that kind of attention? Because I don't.

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't want to be noticed. Just not that way. I mean, I like to imagine that I am pretty. I try to believe that is why guys always tell me that they want to sleep with me. I tell myself that boys are simply too obsessed with sex, that they are too clueless to realize that it's not flattering, that it probably comes up in conversation with everyone, all the time. I tell myself that, but I know that it's not really the truth.

The truth is that for some reason, boys simply don't see me as a real person. When I look in the mirror, I see a girl with hopes and dreams and aspirations. When guys look at me, they just see an object, like I'm some sort of trophy. The sad truth is that they simply don't respect me. And I don't know if they ever will.

Kendra never has that problem. When boys talk to her, they have regular conversations, and they almost never talk about sex. Kendra can talk to boys about politics or philosophy or potato chips. The subject really doesn't matter; the point is that they talk. Of course, I can talk about all of those things too, and I have some great conversations with some of the guys that I spend time with. But sex always finds its way into the conversation somehow.

Even Jarod sometimes takes his teasing to inappropriate extremes. I don't understand it. I'm certain that is the biggest reason that Kendra has a better social life than I do. The boys respect her and see her as a real person, not as an object.

Kendra always has a boyfriend. She says that men are like tissues, because when you're done with one, another always pops up to take its place. She isn't really serious. I think that she heard it on a movie or something and thought that it sounded cool. But for Kendra, it really is true. Right now, she is dating Brandon, and she's happy with him, but Josh has made it perfectly clear that he is waiting for her to be available again so that he can ask her out.

I have never had a boyfriend. Not really. Of course, there was Seth in grade school, but when he moved away in the 4^th grade, that was the end of my romantic life. Except for my long-distance "romance" with Sebastian James in junior high school. I met Sebastian when I was visiting my cousin for spring break in 7^th grade. Sebastian was my cousin Cari's next door neighbor, and we went for a walk together on the first day that I was visiting her.

It was kind of cold, so Sebastian let me wear his jacket, and he held my hand to keep it warm. We saw each other every day, and I really liked him a lot. When I went home again, Sebastian told me that he loved me, and he asked me to be his girlfriend. He even kissed me on the cheek when we said goodbye.

We wrote letters to each other for 3 years, until we just kind of stopped. I still wonder what happened to Sebastian. And sometimes I wonder whether he ever wonders about me. Probably not.

But the boys that I go to school with simply aren't interested in dating a girl like me. Sometimes, we flirt, and of course, I have been propositioned many times. I have even been on a few first dates, but it never develops into anything. The boys that I know simply don't see me as girlfriend material. Sometimes, I wonder if they even really see me as a person.

Comments like the one Pete made at the mall are common. Actually, I have heard that exact pickup line at least 3 times, just this month. I hear it all the time. But that's not the worst of it. I can handle the "subtle" innuendoes like that. I can usually laugh it off and convince myself that it's just a matter of boys being boys. So, even though I hate it, I'm usually not too bothered by it.

But sometimes, the propositions are much more direct and overt. That's when it really hurts. That's when I really wonder who I am and what kind of person other people see when they look at me. I mean, what kinds of signals am I throwing out that would make these guys think that I could ever welcome that kind of attention? That's when I am tempted to give up, when I wonder if the effort is really worth it after all.

Chapter 13

Our height is the only major difference between Kendra and me. I'm 5'8 ½", just like Andi. Kendra is barely 5'2". When I stand next to her, I actually feel tall. Of course, I know that I'm not tall. My parents are both over six feet tall, and Jarod is 6'4"! They all love to tease Andi and me about how "short" we are. But next to Kendra, we both look pretty tall. Still, height is really nothing. Who really cares if we're the same size, anyway? Friendship is not determined by size!

Kendra and I could never share clothes with each other or any of that stereotypical best girl friend bonding kind of stuff, because her things would never fit me, and mine would never fit her. (Kendra wears size 8 petite, and I wear size 6 tall.) But really, what is the big deal about sharing clothes, anyway? There are plenty of other things (like our hopes and dreams) that we do share.

In all honesty, I'm kind of glad for the size difference between us. I really don't think that I could wear any of Kendra's clothes, even if we were the same size. I mean, don't get me wrong. The clothes that she wears look really good on her. Believe me; she turns heads wherever she goes.

All Kendra has to do is walk into a room, and all eyes are on her. She's a lot like Andrea in that way – so much more admired and popular than I will ever be! But those clothes simply wouldn't work on me. She likes short skirts and tight, revealing tops. And they suit her. But I would be so uncomfortable if I tried to pull off that style.

Sometimes, though, I wish that fashion was as easy for me as it is for Kendra. Shopping is so easy for my best friend! Invariably, she finds the perfect outfit in the very first store that we try, while I can spend days on end searching and never find anything that fits just right.

Last year, Kendra and I went shopping together for our Fall Ball dresses. As always, the first store we walked into had Kendra's perfect dress on display. It was royal blue, long, and strapless. The bodice was form-fitted to her exact measurements, and the straight skirt had a high slit. She looked absolutely amazing in it, almost like it was custom made just for her! Five minutes into our shopping trip, and she was already done!

The dress was so beautiful on the mannequin that I had to try it on too. I chose one in a dark forest green color. This green dress would have looked terrific on Andrea, since Kendra and Andi both have those nice, even proportions. It did not, however, work for me. It was too tight in the bust and hips and too loose in the waist. I felt like a stuffed sausage, and I was afraid that I might spill out of the top if I inhaled too deeply. I knew that it was a long shot anyway, but it was still heartbreaking to discover how much this gorgeous dress didn't fit me.

Kendra tried to make me feel better about it. "It's fine, Laina," she told me. I knew that it really wasn't fine by the way that she refused to make eye contact. "If this is the dress that you really want, then you should go ahead and buy it. People will probably be so concerned about themselves that they won't even notice that your dress is the wrong shape for you. And we can always do something outrageous with your hair to draw attention away from your body."

I put the dress back, and I heard Kendra breathe a sigh of relief. I guess I will leave the sexy, strapless numbers for people like Kendra and Andi, those gorgeous, perfectly proportioned goddesses! I breathed deeply and tried to prepare myself for a long day of fruitless dress shopping.

Finally, in the very last store in the mall, I found a black, calf-length velvet and lace dress with a fitted bodice, full skirt and capped sleeves. It was a little bit fancier than I thought I wanted, but I tried it on anyway. It fit fine. For once, the dress wasn't too tight or too loose, and it actually mostly fit my lopsided proportions. At least, it fit well enough that I was willing to emerge from the dressing room to let Kendra give me her opinion on it. Most of the dresses that I had tried on were so awful that I didn't even get that far.

I stepped out and slowly twirled for inspection. "Well? What do you think? Does this one work at all?" I asked.

"Hmmm…" Kendra eyed me critically and frowned. "Well, I guess it's better than any of the other dresses that you have tried on today. That purple dress was absolutely horrendous!"

I shuddered. She was right. I had looked absolutely horrible in every dress that I had tried on so far. Even worse, I hadn't even noticed how horrible I looked. I had seriously considered buying a few of the dresses (the horrendous purple one, for example) until I stepped out of the dressing room and Kendra showed me their flaws.

I was starting to think that I was never going to find a dress for the Fall Ball, but I was grateful, at least, that I had Kendra along to stop me before I made a huge fashion blunder! "But what about this dress?" I asked. "I wish that this store had a three-way mirror. I can't even see myself clearly!"

The sales clerk, a rotund, grandmotherly type with silver-white hair, approached. "Oh, we do have a three-way mirror, dear. Come with me. You must see how adorable you look in this pretty dress!"

She took me by the hand and led me, gently but firmly, to the front of the store. She placed me in front of a large three-way mirror, right next to the entrance, where I could easily be seen by anyone who happened to walk by. Then, she stood back, beaming like a proud grandmother, while Kendra offered her unbiased opinion on the dress.

"Well," Kendra began, "I'm not sure. Black is a good color for you, because it's so slimming, and it tends to hide all of those body issues. And like I said, it is better than anything else you've tried on today."

"So I should go ahead and buy it then?" I breathed a sigh of relief. I could finally walk away from the torture of the dressing room. I was free as soon as I put my own clothes back on. I started to walk away from the mirror. I couldn't wait to slip back into my comfortable jeans and t-shirt!

Kendra shook her head and frowned. "Well, I guess you can get it if you really want to, Laina. If you're comfortable with it, then I guess that's all that really matters, right?"

I stopped and turned back to the mirror for a closer inspection. "What's wrong with it?" I asked. "Be honest."

"Oh, nothing. Really, it's fine." Kendra turned her full attention to inspecting the rack of half-price plaid skirts. "Why don't they ever have things in my size?" she cried.

I cringed. Kendra hates plaid. She always says that plaid is what uncoordinated people wear because they think it matches with everything. She would never wear a plaid skirt! I knew that it had to be really bad news if she would rather shop for a plaid skirt than give me her opinion of the dress!

"Kendra," I took a deep breath and spoke slowly, steeling myself for whatever was coming, "just give me your honest opinion of this dress on me, please."

She wouldn't look me in the eyes, but slowly, she spoke. "Well, I didn't want to mention it, because I know how sensitive you are about your weight and everything, but don't you think that it's a little bit too tight on you? I mean, the skirt is fine. The fullness actually hides your big hips. But the bodice is really fitted, isn't it? It shows off your figure a little bit too well, don't you think?"

I turned back to the mirror for a closer inspection. "What do you mean? How does it show off my figure too well?" I squinted and turned slowly, watching my reflection from every angle, trying to see myself through Kendra's eyes.

She fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with the task of telling me, yet again, that I had picked an unattractive dress. "Personally," she muttered, "I think that it makes you look chubbier than you really are. But if that doesn't bother you, then you should get it. Whatever you're comfortable with. That's all that really matters. I am sure that whatever blind date that Andi digs up for you won't really care what you look like."

I glared at the mirrors. I don't know how I had missed the rolls of flab that were so evident now that Kendra had pointed them out! That's why I never go shopping without her. She always saves me from making a huge fool of myself by pointing out when something makes me look too pale, too chunky, too geeky… whichever adjective applies. Sometimes I wish that she didn't have to save me so often, but I am so grateful that Kendra cares enough to tell me when I don't look good. Everyone else tries to spare my feelings by telling me that I look great when I really don't!

"Well," I sighed, "I guess we can try the outlet stores across town. Maybe they'll have something on the 'irregular' rack that will be perfect for an 'irregular' girl like me!"

"Nonsense, dearie!"

I jumped. I had forgotten that the sales clerk was still there, and her sudden outburst startled me.

"You look just precious in that dress," she gushed. "Why, all of the boys will be lining up to be the first one to dance with you!"

I laughed. Some people will say anything to make a sale! "I appreciate it ma'am, but I don't think so. I'll have to look somewhere else and hope that someone has a dress that will fit me." I turned toward the dressing rooms at the rear of the store and took two full steps before she stopped me.

"Oh, fiddlesticks!" she laughed. "You just wait one minute, missy! I will not have you thinking that I am one of those pushy sales people who will lie and flatter to make a sale. You will get nothing but the honest truth from me. I promise you that!"

She shot a withering look in Kendra's direction, then took me firmly by the elbow and let me back to the store's entrance. But this time, she didn't stop at the mirror. She led me right out of the store to the benches that were gathered in a small seating area outside.

"If you don't believe me," the sales clerk continued, "just ask these handsome young men. They have been sitting on this bench, trying to pretend that they weren't staring at you, for the past 5 minutes!" She pulled me over to the bench closest to the entrance and pointed to Mike and Pete, who were eating soft pretzels and talking about cars.

"Boys, this beautiful young lady needs your opinion," she announced. "She doesn't know if she should buy this dress or not. She is afraid that it isn't flattering on her. So be honest, and tell her what you think of it, okay?"

The clerk smiled and patted my shoulder. "I will be waiting by the register when you are ready to complete the sale, dearie," she winked. Then, she spun on her heel and walked back into the store.

Chapter 12

To be honest, I'm not sure why Kendra and I were ever enemies. There were never two people who had more in common than we do. We even look exactly alike! Well, mostly. Kendra and I are like twins. Almost.

We aren't the same size, but we have so much in common that you hardly even notice a minor detail like that. If you looked at pictures of Andrea, Kendra and I, you would probably pick out Andrea as the one who wasn't related to us. She is far too glamorous. And Kendra and I really are practically twins, we are so similar.

First of all, we both have curly blonde hair. Granted, it's not the same length, but that's not the point, is it? My hair is really, really long (too long, actually), and it falls in soft waves of loose spiral curls. Kendra's hair is pretty short. It doesn't quite come to her shoulders, and her curls are tight and frizzy, which makes her hair look even shorter than it really is.

People often tell Kendra that her hair is really cute, like a poodle's. I know that it's a compliment, but Kendra really hates it when people say that. But other than the length and type of curl, our hair is exactly alike. We even have the exact same shade of blonde hair – except for the natural auburn highlights that I have in my hair, of course.

Kendra and I both have fair skin, freckles and green eyes. She has more freckles than I do, but they look really cute on her. They actually fit her so well that no one really ever even notices her freckles any more. I'm not so lucky. I only have 5 little freckles on my nose, but everyone notices them.

Jarod loves to point out the way that my freckles get darker whenever I'm embarrassed. I don't know if he's just teasing me or if it really happens, but it makes me feel like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer every time I start to blush! No one ever picks on Kendra about her freckles!

Our eyes aren't the exact same shade of green either. Actually, Kendra's eyes are closer to Andrea's eyes than mine. They both have amazingly vivid and bright green eyes that catch your attention even from across the room. My green eyes also have flecks of brown and blue in them, and sometimes, depending on my mood, the brown or the blue color comes out more. This makes it look like my eyes have changed color. I don't usually think much about it, because it's just the way I have always been, but I guess it must be pretty freaky, because people are always pointing out my strange eyes.

When I went to the DMV to get my driver's license on my 16^th birthday, I filled out the height, weight, hair color and eye color sections on the application. When I turned it in, the lady behind the counter almost wouldn't give me my license, because she kept insisting that I put down the wrong color for my eyes!

It was so embarrassing. I had to pretend that I had accidentally checked the wrong box because I was nervous about my driving test, and I let her check the "right" box for me. Then I had to wait until I got my driver's license in the mail to find out what color my eyes are officially! (They're brown, according to my driver's license, by the way.)

Of course, if that were the extent of it, I wouldn't mind my freaky eyes. I mean, how often do you have to renew your driver's license anyway? But apparently, my weird eyes must really bother all of the guys I know. It is so frustrating! As if I don't have enough trouble getting them to notice me, now I can add "freak" to the list of reasons that I can never get a date!

Every single day, when I go into work, my manager, Doug, stops me to check out my eyes. He's always saying things like, "Hey, how come your eyes are brown? Weren't they green yesterday?" or "Wow! I never noticed what pretty blue eyes you have. How did I never see that before?"

Even worse, though, is the fact that Shane thinks I'm a freak too. He points out my freaky eyes every single morning! I think that I could get used to being weird if only Shane Crawford wasn't so disturbed by it. But I guess it's a lost cause.

Every morning, I get to school early, and I eat my breakfast (one cup of nonfat strawberry yogurt and a cinnamon rice cake) in the cafeteria while I wait for the day to start. Every morning, Shane and Rachel join me, and Shane checks his chemistry homework against my answers while Rachel and I talk.

I always wonder why Rachel bothers to talk to me. I mean, we were friends in grade school, but we don't have anything in common any more. Rachel is a cliché – the perfect head cheerleader. She is pretty and popular and talented and graceful. She has a gorgeous boyfriend, and every other boy in school wants to be near her. And she has beautiful, deep, dark brown eyes that never change color. I am everything Rachel is not. But she still talks to me for exactly 5 minutes every morning while Shane works on his chemistry homework.

Every morning, when Rachel kisses Shane goodbye and hurries off to her early-morning cheer practice, he closes his books and we find something to talk about. Sometimes, we talk about Rachel or our other friends. Sometimes, we talk about our classes or our teachers.

Often, we talk about our poetry and he lets me read his latest poems. (I don't usually let him read mine, though, because I'm not nearly as talented as he is. I don't want to give him another reason to laugh at me.) Sometimes, we talk about nothing at all. But every morning, Shane stares intently at my eyes throughout our conversation. I finally told him that it makes me feel a little bit uncomfortable when he stares at me that way.

"Alaina," he replied, "I can't help myself. You have the most interesting eyes I have ever seen. They are so mysterious. I swear they are different every time I talk to you. Believe me, I've tried, but I can't stop staring at your eyes!"

"So what you're saying is that you are staring at me because my eyes are too weird to ignore?" I wished I had some dark glasses to wear. If I could find some way to hide my eyes, it wouldn't always be such an issue.

Shane smiled. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I wouldn't call them weird, though. Interesting. Mysterious. Fascinating. Your eyes are kind of like one of those optical illusion puzzles where you have to keep staring at it until you can see what it's supposed to be. Sometimes, it takes me ten minutes just to figure out what color your eyes are."

I shook my head and let my hair fall across my eyes. "Maybe I don't want to be an optical illusion, Shane. Did it ever occur to you that I would rather be a real person?"

He reached over and swept my hair out of my face. My skin tingled as his fingers traced the contours of my cheek. "Don't hide your eyes, Laina. Not from me. I kind of like trying to figure you out. I don't think that there is another person in this entire world quite like you."

I wanted to close my eyes forever so that no one could see how weird they are, but Shane told me not to hide them from him, so I couldn't do it, even if it did mean letting him stare at my deformity.

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love the way that Shane will sit and stare at me. Kind of. I mean, I wish that he was staring at me for different reasons, but I do like having his attention. It gives me a chance to stare back at him, and he is so gorgeous! But I want Shane to think that my eyes are "beautiful" or "vibrant," not "interesting"! If only he was looking at me because he likes me, and not because he's trying to figure out which category of freak that I fit into!

I usually try to play it off like it's no big deal. In fact, I have made a big joke of the whole issue. You see, I have this "mood ring" that I always wear. It was my mom's in high school, and she gave it to me for my 12^th birthday. I wear it every day. People are always asking me what color my ring is in order to get an indication of my mood. (Blue is "full of energy," turquoise is "calm," green means that I am "ready to try something new," etc.)

Actually, it's usually not very accurate. I'm sure that most people know that, but it's still a fun conversation starter, and everyone at school knows that I wear that silly little mood ring. So now, when guys start to stare and to make a big deal about my "interesting" (translation: "really weird") eyes, I laugh and tell them that I have "mood eyes" to match my "mood ring!" I always tell them that anyone who really knows me can tell exactly how I'm feeling by paying attention to the color of my eyes.

It's kind of funny, but that really is true. When I'm happy or excited, my eyes are green. The happier or more excited I am, the brighter the green in my eyes. When I am really excited about something, my eyes are almost even as vividly green as Andrea and Kendra's eyes are! When I am relaxed and mellow, my eyes are a rich, chocolate brown. Again, the intensity of the color varies in relation to the intensity of the emotion behind it, but when I am really, really relaxed, my eyes are so dark that they're almost black!

Ironically, when I am really sad, when I am feeling lonely and out-of-place, when I feel like I'm just an outsider looking in, when I want to find a quiet place to cry, my eyes are a pale, smoky blue. When you stop to think about it, I guess that there is something a little bit humorous in the fact that my eyes are blue when I'm "blue," isn't it?

I think that the blue is the prettiest mood for my eyes. It really goes well with my golden hair. But I don't like the emotion that comes with it, so I try really hard not to keep those gorgeous blue eyes when they pop up. As soon as someone says "I never noticed that you had blue eyes," I know that I need to do something to cheer myself up. Usually, I find Jarod, and we have a silly conversation that gets me laughing hard enough that I forget to be sad.

Kendra always tells me that she wishes she had eyes like mine. Andrea says the same thing. I think that's the only thing that they ever agree on. Of course, I know that they aren't really agreeing. They don't really want freaky eyes like mine. They would hate it if I ever found a way to trade eye color with them. But I think it's so sweet that they try to make me feel better about my "interesting" eyes by pretending to envy them! That is the measure of real friendship.

Chapter 11

Andrea and I have so little in common that it's hard to believe we're such good friends. I imagine that people are often shocked to see us hanging out together. We really aren't the types that you would expect to see together at all. I guess that whole "sisters" thing must be pretty powerful, because, honestly, if we weren't related, I don't see how we would ever have been friends! I don't even know how we can get along so well!

I never have to wonder what I have in common with my best girl friend, Kendra Smith. She and I are like two proverbial peas in a pod. We could practically be twins! We are even exactly the same age. We have the same birthday!

Well, we almost have the same birthday. Kendra is only three days older than me, so we figure that it's close enough to tell people that we share a birthday. In fact, ever since we found out how close our birthdays are, we have celebrated our birthdays together with joint birthday parties or a special birthday dinner together.

Actually, it was the amazing coincidence of our nearly-shared birthday that brought us together as best friends for life. Believe it or not, Kendra and I did not like each other when we met! In fact, I really hated her at first.

Once upon a time, back in 1^st and 2^nd grade, I was the most popular girl at Whitcomb Elementary School. The girls wanted to be just like me, and the boys thought that I was pretty neat. Seth and his best friend, Kenny, even fought on the playground one day over who got to be my boyfriend. I never could understand that, because I didn't even love Kenny! I was sure that Seth would be my boyfriend forever, and I told my mom that we were going to get married one day. Still, I thought it was kind of flattering that they both wanted to be my boyfriend so much that they would fight each other about it!

When Kendra moved in, near the end of 2^nd grade, she was an immediate hit. Rachel and Missy invited her to sit in the empty chair at our table in class, and they were enchanted by her description of life on her new ranch. No one even wanted to hear about my new tree fort that my daddy had built in my back yard.

At recess, Carla and Sharon told Kendra that she could be the princess stuck in the tower, even though I was the one who invented the Princess in the Tower Game! They wanted me to be the wicked witch, but I told them I was too busy picking dandelions for a bride's bouquet. Why would I want to be a wicked witch?

To make matters worse, during silent reading time, Seth let Kendra share the big beanbag chair with him. I usually sat on the big beanbag chair with Seth, but that day, I had to sit on the pillow pile in the corner with Kenny, Rob and Carla instead.

Still, I was certain that the novelty would wear off, and by the end of the day, everything would be back to normal. But then, Kendra played the ultimate "I win" card. She told everyone in class that they could come over to ride her pony, Dolly, any time they wanted. After that, I knew that I had lost. There was absolutely no way to compete with a pony!

For nearly a year, Kendra and I were bitter enemies. I prayed daily that she would go away. I hoped that she would move back to wherever she had come from. No such luck! And no matter what I did, Kendra always won. I wasn't the most popular girl in school anymore, because everyone liked Kendra too. Even Kenny stopped following me around at recess, because he decided that he wanted to be Kendra's boyfriend!

Then, in 3^rd grade, I brought my favorite homemade cream-filled chocolate fudge cupcakes to school for my birthday. Every year, the kids in my class told me that my mom's famous cream-filled chocolate fudge cupcakes were the best ever, so I knew that this was exactly what I needed to restore the proper social order at Whitcomb Elementary.

I thought that I was going to cry when Kendra walked into class, proudly carrying a tray full of cupcakes as well! Hers were white cake with mountains of pink frosting and purple and white sprinkles. Each one was topped with a large rock-candy gemstone. They weren't homemade, because Kendra's mom doesn't enjoy baking like mine does, but they were very pretty, and I was afraid that I was going to lose again!

Our classmates all said that it was the best birthday celebration ever because everyone got two cupcakes that day. Luckily, Kendra and I don't like the same kind of cupcakes, because if they were the same, Mrs. Grover would have told everyone that one cupcake was plenty. She did that when Bryan and Brenda (the Baker twins) each brought a batch of cupcakes for their birthday. They had to take half of them home again, because Mrs. Grover didn't think it was a good idea for children to have too much sugar in one afternoon. But when Kendra and I brought our cupcakes in, Mrs. Grover couldn't decide which one she wanted to try, so she let everyone have one of each.

I don't think I will ever understand how anyone could possibly prefer boring white cake to a rich, chocolate fudge cake, but I didn't complain when Kendra whispered that she didn't like chocolate and offered to give me her chocolate cream-filled cupcake. I gladly traded my white cupcake for it, since I wasn't planning on eating it anyway, so we were both happy, even though I clearly got the better end of the deal!

Mrs. Grover even gave us an extra long recess that day. She said that we needed extra time to run off all of the sugar we had just consumed or we would never be able to concentrate on our multiplication tables. All of the girls decided that Kendra and I should be Twin Princesses in the Tower, and even the boys agreed to play with us. Seth was a brave knight that fought all of the evil dragons and ogres (Josh, Rob and Mark) and defeated the evil wizard (Kenny) to set us free. Kendra and I have been fast friends ever since.