The Truth About Twinkie Pie Part 24

fifty-three.

Friday, I took the bus back to Mace's house after school and went straight to the room where I was staying. It never occurred to me that Mace might be doing anything other than her zillion after-school activities as president of the Whatever-Whatever Club and then homework in her room, too. But it was Friday, and after days of being stuck in that guest room, I wanted to get out of there. Maybe walk around. I wondered if it would be weird to ask Mace to join me. We weren't friends, exactly, but we were... something.

I tiptoed down the hall and listened hard. The house was quiet. Usually Mace left me alone till dinnertime and then brought food to my room. I wondered what she did the rest of the time. I hadn't really even seen the rest of the house.

No one seemed to be home.

I went down a quiet hall and turned a corner into the biggest whitest kitchen I'd ever seen. Mrs. Tanglewood was sitting all by herself at this gigantic table, just staring out the window. I made a quick move to back out, but the floor creaked. Dang. I guess there are creaky floors no matter where you go. When she saw me, she looked about as relaxed and comfortable as I felt.

"Oh... Leia," she said. "Won't you-did you want to come in?"

Now I began to back out for real. "No, that's okay. I didn't want to interrupt.... I was just wondering where Mace was."

"You don't know?"

Know what?

I could only shake my head.

Mrs. Tanglewood got up and walked to the refrigerator. It had this big sliding gla.s.s door in front, so you could see everything inside. There were rows and rows of all-natural juices and bottled fizzy water and bowls filled with s.h.i.+ny apples and lemons and such. All standing there, perfectly lined up like soldiers. But then I noticed that if you looked really close, you could see in the back that it was kind of a mess. Tumbles of half loaves of bread and leftovers and stuff wrapped up in b.u.mpy tinfoil.

"She's with your sister, DiDi. As she has been every afternoon this week."

"With D-" My voice came out a squeak. "With DiDi? Why? Doing what?"

"Why should I be informed? She and Mr. Tanglewood seem to have decided that they know better than I do about everything. Who am I?" Mrs. Tanglewood studied the gla.s.s front of the fridge. It looked perfect to me, but she grabbed a paper towel and gave it a wipe. "Why should I know anything? Where she runs away to... who she's with... why you're h-"

Mrs. Tanglewood turned her back to me and rubbed at that gla.s.s like it was a genie's bottle and she didn't know what to wish for. I knew what I'd wish. I'd want to know what was going on. What was Mace doing with DiDi? Probably talking about me. I'd thought somehow that Mace was on my side now. But she had always preferred DiDi. And here I was, finding out they had spent every afternoon for the last week together.

"I-I'm sorry," I said. "Do you want me to-Can I help you in here?"

Mrs. Tanglewood didn't turn around. "Oh, no thank you." She opened the fridge door and began to fiddle with the row of juices. Nudging them ever so slightly, till they completely hid the mess in the back. "I don't know why I bother. I might as well just give up. If it wants to be a mess, let it be a mess." She gave this sad little hiccup of a laugh and closed the door.

I looked at the gla.s.s door. It was like being in the fanciest grocery store ever. "Well, it-it looks perfect to me."

Mrs. Tanglewood sighed. She tilted her head to the side and then picked up the paper towel again and gave the fridge one last swipe. "It does, doesn't it?"

When Mace peeked in later, I was sitting at the little desk in the guest room, doing homework.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," I answered, not looking up.

"Okay, so my mom said you found out how I'd been helping DiDi."

I don't know why I was surprised. One thing Mace has always been is direct. So now I was, too.

"Why? What are you doing? Why didn't you tell me?"

Mace came in and closed the door. She went over to the bed to sit down and paused before she began to talk again. "I don't know.... You've been really upset. DiDi has been really upset. Neither of you will tell me what happened, but it doesn't even matter. DiDi-DiDi is my friend and you... Well, anyway, she's had all these big plans and she needed help. Actually, Haven, Allie, Billy and Trip, and Mr. McGuire have been helping, too. I'm sorry, I-I asked them not to tell you yet...."

Now I was completely confused. What big plans? What did they all have to do with anything?

Mace looked at me. "The Founder's Day Gala. Tomorrow. DiDi has been planning the menu since, like, the beginning of the year. She has all these great ideas. She just-well, she gets nervous about-about trying new things.... She's been there for me so much-I just wanted to do the same for her."

The Gala.

We'd said it was going to be our own personal birthday party. I'd promised DiDi I would help her. We even shook on it. But I never did.

"What have you been... how are you helping?"

"We've just been helping her with shopping and organizing and taste-testing and everything...."

"But-your mom-"

Mace began to study her hands. "I tried to explain, but-my dad says she just needs time." She shook her head and then looked up. "You should come. I know she wants you to." Mace reached into her pocket and pulled out a KOB. "Here."

I took it and saw DiDi's strong clear writing on the outside. Leia.

I barely noticed Mace leaving as I slowly unfolded it.

Leia, I miss you more than I can say and I love you even more than that. I know you need your time and I know that this has been so hard for you, but I want to see you and I can't help that. You are the love of my life and the treasure of my heart and I am so proud of who you are and everything about you and I wish I'd told you this every day since the beginning of time. Will you please come to the Gala tomorrow? I'll be there early setting up and I'll be waiting for you.

I love you more than the world.

DiDi The words became a blur behind my tears. I'd never had a birthday in my life that didn't have me and DiDi in the kitchen together, making Twinkie Pie. In that second, I was feeling so many things. Confusion. Sadness. Longing. But mostly. Mostly. I missed DiDi. More than I could say. And I knew one thing at that moment. That if I belonged anywhere, it was at that Gala by her side.

fifty-four.

There are different kinds of quiet.

There's the quiet you get after it rains and you watch the birds creeping out-looking to see if it's okay to start tweeting again. That's a good quiet. It makes you feel like anything is possible.

And then there's the quiet of Mrs. Tanglewood's car.

All week long, Mrs. Tanglewood had driven us to school with no music or conversation, her white-knuckled hands gripping that steering wheel in the ten and two o'clock positions. Mace sat in the front with her and I sat in the back. Each day, it was the same quiet drive. The kind of quiet you wish you knew how to break. But just can't figure out. The way to the Founder's Day Gala was no different.

I couldn't stop fidgeting in the backseat. Mace had lent me a pretty dress to wear with pink and green flowers all over it. I hoped her mother wouldn't mind. It wasn't a long drive to school, but with Mace and her mom in the car not talking, it felt like a million miles. I had heard them arguing again right before we left. It had sounded like a big one. Something about clones or lemmings or something. But I didn't catch it all.

When it was time to go, I could tell they weren't finished yet. I was just hoping they wouldn't decide to finish in the car.

At the first stop sign, Mrs. Tanglewood, still looking straight ahead, said in a low whisper, "How can you think that? I want you to be yourself."

"As long as myself is a clone of you, you mean," said Mace.

I shrank down as low as I could in the backseat.

"That's not true."

"Right. You don't hate my hair and my makeup."

Mrs. Tanglewood kept looking straight ahead. "I don't-hate it. I just-" Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. "I just don't see why you need someone else-"

"Oh, right, because you and I have so much in common-"

"You know..." Mrs. Tanglewood lowered her voice. "For your information, I was a real rebel when I was your age."

"Right."

"I was."

"You were."

"Yes. One summer, your aunt Lily and I pierced each other's ears-with safety pins-right before we snuck out to see Joan Jett in the city. What do you think of that?"

The car behind us beeped.

Mrs. Tanglewood jumped in her seat. Then started driving again.

"That's-really? Was Grammy-did she ever find out?"

"Well, yes, of course, and she grounded us and made us take them out and wait till we were sixteen and got us cla.s.sic pearl studs. I still have mine. I thought you could wear them when you-Or... we can get whatever you'd like... of course."

Mace didn't answer for a second. Then shrugged. "Whatever. I'll look at them. If you want."

"That would be fine."

"Fine."

"Fine...."

Mrs. Tanglewood continued driving toward the school. I eased up in my seat. The car got quiet again. But it was a little different this time. I leaned over just enough to peek into the s.p.a.ce between them and saw that Mrs. Tanglewood's right hand had left its post at two o'clock and was resting on the middle console. Just a few inches from Mace's left.

fifty-five.

As we pulled into the school parking lot, Mace nudged me and pointed out the window. Trip was standing across the way with a group of boys and girls.

"Wait," I said. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Tanglewood. Can I please get out here?"

"Oh, look. There's Trip. Do you want to get out here, too?" Mrs. Tanglewood pulled the car up to the sidewalk.

Mace looked at me. "No, Mom. Let's drop Leia here. Then we can park the car and-walk in together."

Mrs. Tanglewood paused. "That would be fine."

"Thank you, Mrs. Tanglewood. I'll see you inside." I slipped out of the car and began to walk toward Trip. Then stopped. He glanced up at me and back down at the ground again.

In the Recipe for Success, when you want to look confident, you take these firm straight steps and keep your chin up. Make eye contact and try and look like you know what's what. Which is kind of hard when the person you're trying to talk to turns and starts walking away as fast as they can in the opposite direction. To heck with the Recipe-I broke into a run.

"Trip!" I yelled, and I could hear my voice squeaking with everything I was feeling, and I'm guessing so could everyone else, but I didn't care. "Trip, please wait."

He stopped.

He didn't turn.

I ran up till I was right behind him. Then there was this big s.p.a.ce of time where I couldn't speak and it didn't look like he could, either, even if he wanted to, and it was building and building, and as much as I wanted him to be the first to say something-how he missed me, how I was still his best friend, how everything was okay-I knew it wasn't. And I knew I had to be the first to speak.

I took a deep breath. "Trip." My voice cracked again and I cleared it. "I-I am so sorry." I shook my head and tried to start over. "When we first moved here, all I ever thought about was how I'd never really had... friends before. I'd never had a friend like you or Billy or Haven or Allie... or Mace." He looked up. "And with Mace, I was jealous and I... Trip, I just liked you. Really liked you liked you. Do you know what I mean? You are the best friend a person could have. You know every terrible thing about me and you stood by me and I paid you back by-" I started to cry for real. "And I'm so, so sorry I hurt you. You know I don't think any of those things I said-I just-I just want you to be you and I want us to be friends again. Please, please tell me you forgive me."

Trip looked at me a long time.

"G-Girl," he said, but I started crying even harder the second I heard that stupid nickname and realized how much I missed hearing it. "I'm sorry, too-"

"You? Saying sorry to me? For what?" I sobbed.

"For not going south-and for not knowing how you felt about, you know, about me. I just-I never ever would've guessed you liked me. Like that."

I laughed through my tears. "Because I always played it so cool?"

"No. Because of how much Billy likes you."

"Wha-huh?"

Now Trip laughed. "I thought you liked him back. You guys are always, you know, high-fiving each other and stuff."