When I Met Alysa

3. Into the Sunshine

'OHMIGOD!!!' I shriek at Alysa, not caring that her mum's right downstairs, still groggy from staying up last night. 'HOW CAN YOU DO THIS? FIVE MONTHS, ALYSA! FIVE MONTHS!' 

'Maddi, please-' 

'NO!' I yell. I'm in full temper-mode. 'I'M NOT HAVING ANY BRIBERY OR ANYTHING! I'LL GO ON SCREAMING AT YOU UNTIL YOU CANCEL YOUR PLANS FOR AMERICA! But, now you think about it, I will accept a packet of Haribo. BUT I'M NOT GONNA STOP SCREAM-' 

'Madison?' Alysa's mum's tired face pops round the door. 'Will you please stop that racket? And Ally, you need to get packing. We're leaving on Monday, remember?' 

'No, Mum,' says Alysa confidently. 'I am not gonna pack until I'm done having a perfect day with Maddi in town. See you at four o'clock.' And she squeezes through the doorway past her mum, leaving me face-to-face with Mrs Mayden, who is smouldering with fury. 

For some reason (really, truly, I have no idea why), Mrs Mayden HATES me. Maybe she thinks I'm a bad influence for Alysa or something. I murmur 'Sorry' and slip through the door past Mrs Mayden, down the plush velvet stairs and through the stained-glass million-pound door after Alysa, into the sunshine. 

We stroll along the street. Alysa has a forced smile on her face, and I'm guessing I have too. My insides are curling with anger. How can the birds be singing when Alysa's leaving? How can the flowers be so pretty and bright and happy when my world is crashing down around me? How can everything be so perfect when it's so obviously not? 

'Oh, no,' I groan after a minute. 'I don't have any money.' 

'It's okay,' says Alysa, jingling her pockets. 'Mum gave me my allowance yesterday, so I'm minted.' 

I smile - a real smile - at my best friend. Only she would use words like 'minted'. 

'Alysa,' I say, standing still. I don't want to do this, but I know I have to. 

'Yeah?' 

'We're best friends forever, right?' 

'Totally,' she says, entwining her little finger with mine and shaking it once, twice. Our not-so-secret handshake. 

'And you tell me everything, and I tell you everything, right?' 

'Totally,' she says again, hopping up onto a nearby bench and cartwheeling. 'Is this because of my trip to America, Madsy? You don't wanna lose me? Chill, Mad, it's only five months. I'll be back in no time!'

Chill? CHILL? How could she? This is one of the most important moments of my life! I take a deep breath in, and out. 

'Listen,' I try again, 'Where are you gonna be staying in America?' 

'Oh, I dunno,' she sighs. 'Around, I guess. Staying with Stacey and Bob.' 

'And they live in the same place they did six years ago, right?' 

'Uh-huh. More like thirty years ago. You should come sometime, Madsy, it would be really fun. Listen, you'd love Emmia. She's five now and adorable. She's starting first grade next year, in kindergarten now. She's the total image of me, Mad, you'd love her.' 

'I can come,' I say, surprising myself. 'Your mum will let us, right? I mean, I'm nearly thirteen. Just for a month or so, I could fly back by myself.' 

I'm planning it out in my head. British Airways from London to New York (that's where she said Bob and Stacey live, right?)... sightseeing for four weeks in the States, then another plane back to London, where Mum and Dad'll be waiting at the airport. 

Alysa doesn't seem so keen, backtracking quickly. 'No, Maddi... seriously, it's not a good idea... maybe in a few years or something... my mum'll never agree...' But I already have my phone out, ringing my mum. 

The conversation is as follows:

Me: Mum?

Mum: Oh, hi there, honey. How are you doing with Alysa? 

Me: Yeah, fine. Anyway, there was something I wanted to talk to you about... you know Alysa's leaving for America on Monday?

Mum: Yeah...? 

Me: Well, we had the most brilliant idea. I could go with her, just for a month or so! We'd go to an American school and all that. Come on, Mum, please. Alysa came with us to France for two weeks last year!

Mum: Oh, honey, that's an incredible idea! Listen, I'll call Charlotte and sort out all the details. And if she doesn't agree, I may do a spot of bribery with the Willowby's tennis-tea party that I've been invited to... 

Me: Thank you, Mum, oh, thank you! 

Mum: Wish me luck! Mrs Mayden can be quite... set in her ways... sometimes, but I'm sure she'll say yes finally. Bye, darling.

Me: Bye, Mum! Hangs up. 

'Yes!' I squeal. 'She said she'll ask your mum!' I begin to dance around in a circle, shrieking, 'Ohmigod, we can go and see the Statue of Liberty - no more CGI for us! The Empire State Building - we can go right to the top, and look over the whole of NY! The Rockerfeller Centre! The Metropolitan Museum of Art! It's gonna be heaven, Ally! HEAVEN!' 

'Yeah,' Alysa says quietly. 'Heaven.' Her face brightens a little. 'My mum probably won't say yes anyway.'

I won't let Ally's bad mood get in the way. America's been my dream ever since I was a kid. 

My phone rings. 

'Hello?' I say. It's my mum again. 

'You'll never believe it!' she shrieks, right in my ear. 'Charlotte said yes! After I bribed her with the tea party, of course! Oh, my darling, you're growing up!' 

'Yeah, I know,' I say gruffly, holding the phone at arm's length. 'Anyway, see you at four, Mum. We can have that girls' night you promised.' 

'Bye, kiddo!' she sings, and the phone clicks off. 

'SHE SAID YES!' I scream at Alysa, jumping onto the bench and dancing around. 'I CAN'T WAIT! New York is going to be fabulous!' 

'It won't be New York,' Alysa says. 'It's California, okay?'

I quieten down. 'Hey... I thought you said Bob and Stacey live in New York?' 

'Yeah, they do. We're just not going there this year, okay?' 

'What... but... why?' I say, disappointed. 'I thought you were going to see Emmia!' 

'No,' she says forcefully, and stands up. 'I'm going home now. See you on Monday. Five a.m.' She walks off. 

'Ally?' I call after her. 'Wait... it's only two thirty!' 

'I don't care,' she snaps over her shoulder, and disappears round the corner. I sit on the bench, thinking. Why is she so desperate for me not to come? Has she got something to hide... or what? 

Tiny droplets of rain splatter on my Primark hoodie, and with a sigh, I get up. The water spits down harder and harder, and turns into a fully-fledged downpour. I pull my hoodie over my head and run home, soggy feet squelching in the mud, spattering me with ugly brown splotches. What is up with Alysa? I wonder, fiddling with the doorknob. It's almost like she doesn't want me. That was the worst argument we've had in years... well, ever. Has she got something to hide? 

But why does she want to hide it from me? 

I'm her best friend...

Right?