December 19, 2008

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I had never been happier.

On December 21, my parent are inviting Olivia to our trip across the state. Even if it was a day trip.

Today was the last day of school before winter break, and I couldn't wait to get out of there. School was getting harder to stand.

I slipped into my math class, the last class in my day. My teacher droned on and on about circumference, and told us we would have a quiz right after the break. Yawn.

I wished that I could do something harder, but I want in the mood for more grade-skips. Five was enough.

At least today, Olivia was coming over after school. I promised to help her with her science project, and we could talk about the trip.

"Olivie! Nice to see you!" My mom gushed the moment we stepped through the door. How embarassing.

"It's Olivia, actually, Mrs. Foster," Olivia corrected with a small smile. 

You'd think that after a few months your mom would know your best friend's name, but no. Apparently not. 

"Hi Mom, we'll be upstairs! Bye!" I grabbed Olivia's wrist and pulled her up the stairs to my room—only to be stopped by Amy, who was playing with Bun-Bun right on top of the stairs.

"Amy, can you move?" I said, perhaps a touch too snarkily. 

Amy didn't budge. 

"Amy!" I said a little louder this time, and she—to her credit—looked up before going back to Bun-Bun. 

"AM—" I was about to shout, but Olivia put a hand on my shoulder before crouching to Amy's height. "Hi, Amy. Do you mind going over to that corner of the hall to play? Me and your sister just want to get to her room," she said sweetly.

Amy looked up with large, unblinking eyes. "Pway where?" she asked.

"Here, I'll show you," Olivia took her minuscule hand in hers and led her to a spot across the hall. 

I smiled gratefully, shooting Amy a glare before leading Olivia into my room. It was and  embarrassing neon pink.

Olivia didn't seem the least bit annoyed about the Amy debacle, and I decided not to mention it. We had to plan for both her science project and the day trip. By the time we got back, it'd be dark.

Not surprisingly, we spent the next two hours chatting about the trip (no matter how many times I told her we should focus on her project) and what to bring, and soon her mom was there to pick her up. We could hear our moms having tea (something I told my mom no one did anymore, but she refused to listen to me) and then, all too soon, they were calling us down. 

Olivia and I sighed, but we begrudgingly headed downstairs. We agreed to write a packing list tomorrow during lunch tomorrow, and, to our surprise, we found our moms talking about the trip. My mom hadn't wanted Olivia to come ('Family tradition, Sophie, she'll ruin it!') but I, along with Olivia, convinced her.

The two women turned at our arrival, hurriedly saying bye and in a few seconds, Olivia was gone. 

"What's with the rush?" I asked as my mom led me to the kitchen for dinner. 

"Olivia's mom is having second thoughts about sending her daughter away, and frankly, so am I," her mom said with a small frown.

"But Mom—"

"We're not uninviting her, but I can't say I'm happy about her tagging along. I love that you've made a friend, but I didn't think you'd go so far to invite her on a family trip!" 

"But—" 

"I know, I know. Your dad won't let me uninvite her either. He likes the kid as much as you do."

I was so desperate, I added, "Amy likes her too,"

"Oh, really?" My mom looked at me in surprise, her ladle frozen mid-air.

I sighed. "Why—"

"No, no. Okay. You got me there. Amy doesn't like anyone who isn't her age. She's a picky one, yes?" My mom evidently had a forced smile on her face. I ignored it.

"I'll make sure she stays out of your hair," I said. "I just, you know, never had a friend as close as her. I couldn't stop thinking about how aweso— um, nice it would be if she could come."

"You know, forget I said anything. It's dinnertime, and we shouldn't let dinner get cold. AMY! Sophie, call your father back in. I think he's gardening outside."

I stood, heading out the front door, where I saw my dad and Mr. Forkle (like usual) trading gardening secrets. I hated to end their chat, but my mom would be mad. 

"Dad! Dinner!" I called.

"Okay! Coming!" He replied. Mr. Forkle waved at me, and I forced a smile. The guy was nice, but it wasn't easy to ignore how nosy he was. 

Over dinner, my dad and Amy and I tried to convince my mom how great Olivia was, but she pointedly ignored us. 

That night, my mom gave me a small kiss on the cheek before leaving me to my dad. She  still didn't seem pleased that Olivia was coming. 

I couldn't see the problem.

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