Free Confectionately Yours #4: Something New by Lisa Papademetriou Page A

It’s just large, chunky black lettering written crooked on the right. But what it lacks in prettiness, it makes up for in largeness. It’s huge.
    Meghan takes one look at it, and I practically see steam coming out of her ears. “‘Ideas that matter’?” she demands, reading the poster.
    “Yeah — good one, right?” Omar says.
    “Like my ideas don’t matter?”
    “I didn’t realize you had any ideas,” Omar replies.
    “Omar!” I say. “That’s not fair. Meghan’s done a lot of stuff.”
    “I have a ton of ideas,” Meghan huffs. “Just because I didn’t like your one idea —”
    Omar glares at her. “Meghan, the role of the class presidentis to listen to the people in the class, then help them make things happen.”
    “Omar — the class president has to do one thing at a time,” Meghan says. Her voice sounds strained, like it’s taking her a lot of effort not to start screeching. “You couldn’t lead a trip to the bathroom.”
    “I guess we’ll let the class decide,” he says, and turns on his heel to walk away.
    Artie shakes her head, frowning at the poster. “Unreal. He didn’t even hang it up straight.”
    “Don’t you dare,” I say as Meghan reaches for the poster.
    “What?” She looks guilty as she pulls the poster off the wall. “I’m just straightening it.” She hangs it up again, although I’m pretty sure she wanted to shove it in the trash. She stares at it a moment longer, then sighs. “Okay. I can’t let this get to me.”
    “It isn’t personal,” Artie tells her.
    “Well — it kind of is personal,” Meghan says. “But that doesn’t mean I have to care. I’ll be a better president than Omar, no matter what he thinks. And besides — I have other stuff to think about. Like the barbecue. Speaking of —”
    “We were going to get some frozen yogurt and talk about decorations,” Artie announces. “Do you want to come?”
    The mention of the barbecue has made me feel slightly queasy. “No, I — no, thanks. I have to meet Señor Derby.”
    “Oh, I was thinking,” Artie went on, “since I’ll have to do decorations, and Hayley is making cupcakes, and Meghan is in charge of the whole thing, maybe we should meet up early and all go over to the barbecue together?”
    Meghan lifts her eyebrows at me, but she doesn’t say anything.
    I think about the moments that I’ve already let pass by — the moments in which I could have told Artie about Marco. But this isn’t like those moments. If I let this one pass, it’s as good as a lie. I have to say something. “Uh … I think I’m already going with Marco.”
    “Well, whatever. He can join,” Artie says.
    I look over at Meghan, my face pleading.
    “I don’t think it’s that kind of situation.” Meghan’s voice is gentle.
    Artie looks at Meghan for a long moment, as if it’s taking time for this sentence to compute. Finally, Artie looks at me. “Oh,” she says.
    I want to say that I don’t know what kind of situation it is, but I know that will only make things messier. Instead, I inspect a crack in the floor that I’d never noticed before. It looks a little like the northern border of Texas. How fascinating.
    “Okay, well … Okay.” Artie tosses her gorgeous long hair over her shoulder, and smiles as if this is all normal — fine — just what she expected, although I’m sure it isn’t. “Are you ready to get going, Meghan?”
    “Sure,” Meghan says. “See you later, Hayley.” She gives me a little hug, and then heads down the hall.
    Artie doesn’t say good-bye. She just follows Meghan out the door.

I t’s not that I’m jealous, or possessive. I’m not like that.
    It’s just weird to think that maybe Artie and Meghan are eating frozen yogurt and talking about me.
    Maybe Artie is telling Meghan all about the time she confessed to me that she had a crush on Marco. Maybe she’s telling Meghan that she saw me kissing Marco just a few weeks later.
    Maybe Meghan is thinking that it’s