Free Shug by Jenny Han Page A

like a special occasion. Burping, I reach for one of Celia’s pork chops, but quick as lightning, Mama snatches the plate away.
    “I’m saving this for your sister, for when she gets back. She might want a snack. You eat the rest of mine; I’m not hungry.” She gets up from the table and covers Celia’s plate with plastic wrap.
    “You sure?” I’m already reaching for her pork chop.
    “Yes, greedy. And there’s mint chocolate chip ice creamin the freezer.” Mint chocolate chip is Celia’s favorite. It tastes like toothpaste to me, but hey, I’ll eat it. Ice cream is ice cream. Mama puts the plate in the refrigerator and says she needs to take a nap. She leaves me alone in the kitchen, and I polish off the rest of the pork chop, taking care to swirl it around in her little mound of apple sauce.
    When she makes the effort, she’s not a bad cook. Not great, not like Mrs. Findley, but not bad.
    Celia comes back home when I’m doing the dishes. She throws her pink purse on the kitchen table. “Is she around?”
    “No, she’s asleep. We saved you some dinner, though. It’s in the fridge.”
    “I ate at Margaret’s.”
    “But she made pork chops …” My voice trails off when I see Celia’s hard face. I turn back to the dishes and scrub the greasy skillet a little harder. “There’s ice cream, too.”
    Grudgingly, she says, “What kind?”
    “You know what kind.”
    Celia purses her lips and walks over to the freezer. She pulls out the carton and sits down at the table.
    Wiping my soapy hands on my jeans, I give her a big spoon and sit down next to her. “She feels really bad, you know.” I pry the lid off the frosty carton and slide it over to Celia.
    She sniffs. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
    “Fine, fine.”
    Celia scoops herself a big spoonful of ice cream and nibbles on it. “Tell me what’s goin’ on with you and Kyle.”
    “Huh? Me and Kyle?”
    Celia rolls her eyes. “Yeah … the boy who taught you how to love?”
    Oh, yeah. “Um, I don’t know. I hardly ever see him. Junior high’s pretty different.”
    “What do you mean, different?” She licks her spoon like a cat.
    I take a big bite of mint chocolate chip. “Everybody’s actin’ different, is all. Mark especially. He acts like he’s forgotten all about us being best friends. All he cares about is hanging out with the guys. I went over there the other day, and he was leaving to go play basketball, and then he didn’t even invite me.”
    “So?”
    “So he always invites me! And it’s more than just that. At school he barely even looks at me.”
    “Well, boys are like that, Shug.”
    “I know,” I say. “Wait, what do you mean? What are they like?”
    “They take you for granted sometimes. They care moreabout looking cool than being your friend. But I promise you, Mark hasn’t forgotten you. How could he? You’re like brother and sister.”
    Frowning, I say, “Well, I wouldn’t say brother and sister exactly.”
    “Pretty close to it. Y’all were raised up together. Shug, just give him time to get used to junior high. He’ll figure out who his real friends are sooner or later.”
    Celia inherited Mama’s talent for makin’ you forget and she doesn’t even need ice cream. I forgive her for what she said earlier. No matter what she says, I know she’ll always come back home.

chapter 18
    I asked Mark if he wanted to come over and quiz each other on the fifty states and capitals, and when he asked me if anyone was going to be home, I said yes. I told him Celia would probably be there, and I knew it was wrong even as I was saying it. I felt cheap and terrible, and when he said okay, I still felt cheap and terrible but happy, too.
    Sitting at the kitchen table, drinking Cokes and eating peanuts, I’m filled with such gladness for this moment. To be here with Mark, just like this. Just us two, just like before.
    He tosses a peanut my way, and I catch it with my mouth. This is our trick; we are good at