Free Class Favorite by Taylor Morris

something in a matter of a couple of months. We never did make that list we had talked about for Class Favorite qualities, but I wanted to do it.
    Sometimes I wonder what the heck I was thinking.

7
    Do You Have What It Takes to Be the Coolest Kid in Class?
    Which word best describes your attitude toward popularity?
    a) superficial
    b) (my) reality
    c) unachievable
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    It had been more than a week since my lunchroom confrontation with Arlene, and we had become experts at avoiding each other. We didn’t look at each other in class, and I sat with Kirstie at lunch. I slowly began to think that Arlene wasn’t going to pull some locker prank on me, and I began to feel like maybe I’d made a huge mistake. I’d been so embarrassed about the flowers that I was afraid I’d taken it out on her. And yeah, it’s true that I felt left out, what with all her new friends. But that didn’t mean she’d betray me, even if she secretly didn’t consider me her best friend anymore.
    â€œI think I’m going to talk to Arlene,” I told Kirstie one evening when we were at her house making root beer floats and watching E!. “She hasn’t done anything to me. No locker pranks, nothing.” I stirred the long spoon in my frosted mug. “I think it’s time to grovel.”
    â€œYou think that’s a good idea?” she asked, surprising me. “I’m just thinking . . . maybe she’s waiting for the storm to settle, and then she’s going to do something.”
    â€œI don’t think so. I think that, even if she was going to do something at one point, she’s not planning on doing it anymore. I think the storm hasn’t just settled—it’s passed.”
    Kirstie dipped her spoon into her float thoughtfully. “Maybe just wait until after spring break before you say anything to her—just to make sure. I have to be honest—I have a bad feeling about the whole thing. So wait a little longer. For me?”
    I hesitated before I said, “Yeah, sure.” Even though I wasn’t sure. I felt confused and saddened about Arlene, and torn with Kirstie, who had been the only person there for me since Valentine’s Day, it seemed. Now everything was all turned around and upside down.
    Every time I saw Arlene she really looked like she’d moved on quite easily. It hurt my feelings knowing she could go on as if we were never friends. Still, I told myself, despite what Kirstie said, I’d make a sort of last-ditch effort and apologize. I thought it was the right thing to do.
    That night when I got home from Kirstie’s, I shuffled down the hall to the room that used to be Dad’s office but was now just a tiny junk storage room. A dusty desk with our one computer sat in front of the window that faced out the side of the house. Mom had gotten our computer free from the bank when they upgraded, and it was such a piece of junk that it groaned and wheezed every time we turned it on. I couldn’t even IM because it always crashed, so I had to make do with regular ol’ e-mails, but I guess it was okay.
    When the computer finally groaned to life I froze. I had an e-mail from Arlene:
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    First of all, I told myself I wasn’t going to write you for a while after what you said to me in the lunchroom that day. I wanted to cool off and think about things. I actually tried to see things from your perspective. But the more I thought, the angrier I got. How could you accuse me of doing something without even hearing me out first?? I don’t know who told about your flowers, but I do know who was in the office when they came: your new “friend” Kirstie. She really leeched on to you pretty quickly. Did you ever stop to wonder why?
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    That was it. That’s how the e-mail ended. I didn’t know how to respond, or even if I should. I thought about callingKirstie, but I didn’t. I wanted to think about how I would