Heat fried my face. “She had a box of Little Debbie snack cakes in there. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a
Little Debbie? Okay, I admit, I was tempted to take one. But I didn’t! And for sure I didn’t take any money.”
Max continued, “Then that day at the mall you had money for batteries and lunch—”
“My dad gave me twenty bucks to buy him boxer shorts.”
Everyone looked at me then.
“I swear to God!” I crossed my heart. “You guys. I wouldn’t do something like that. I’m not a thief. Come on, you know me.”
Or did they? Like Max said, do you ever really know another person?
How could I prove my innocence? I couldn’t, except… “What did you think I spent the money on?”
Max’s intense stare at my neck was the answer.
“The presents from Kevin? Prairie, you heard Hugh and Kevin talking about the earrings. And Lydia,” I said, twisting around
to face her, “you saw Kevin give me the necklace.”
Lydia nodded.
I turned back, folding my arms in a huff. “There.” I felt angry, offended, crushed. Tears filled my eyes. How could they think
I’d done it? What kind of person did they think I was?
I felt Prairie’s eyes on me, boring into me. “Jenny,” she said softly. “Is that the truth?”
Sniffling, I looked at her and said, “Yes.”
A long, excruciating moment went by, as if judgment was being passed. Then Prairie drew back. Slowly, her hands rose to cover
her mouth again. “Oh, Jenny,” she said. “I’m so s-sorry.”
I blinked up at Max. She seemed stunned, like this whole scene was surreal. Which it was. Swallowing hard, I said, “I’m sorry,
too. For thinking you did it, Max.”
Her eyes widened briefly, then burned bullet holes in my head.
“I didn’t want to believe it,” I told her. “But the shoes and the CD player…” It was all I could say. If Max was going to
pound me into pulp, she should do it now.
Instead, she growled, “I guess I understand. I know I have a rep, and I have done some bad stuff, okay? I never said I was
an angel. I might’ve lifted a few things at the mall.” She added hastily, “But that was before. And I never took nothin’ from
a teacher.”
We were quiet for a long minute, letting the air clear between us. I looked from Max to Prairie to Lydia. Well, at least that
solved the mystery of the three Good Samaritans. Even though they did it to cover for me, I didn’t feel much better. Finally
Prairie said, “If you didn’t do it and Max didn’t do it, then the only other person is Ashley.”
“Not necessarily.” As I opened my mouth to speak his name, probably for the last time, a whoosh of air caught my breath. The
sofa jerked as Lydia jumped to her feet. “Okay.” She threw up her arms. “You can stop torturing me. I confess. I did it.”
A
ll eyes glommed onto Lydia’s face. Mine had to be stuck the hardest. Lydia gulped. “I didn’t mean to take the money,” she
said. “It just happened.”
My jaw unhinged. Mine wasn’t the only one. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Lydia,” I informed her.
She glanced down at me, looking scared. My tone of voice startled me. But if she was telling the truth…
Lydia’s knees collapsed and she dropped back down to the sofa. Her head fell against the back springs as she closed her eyes.
“Remember that day when I went in before school to fix my diorama? That’s when it happened.”
“When what happened?” I asked.
Lydia opened her eyes and said, “When I stole Mrs. Jonas’s money.”
“Geez, Lydia. I knew you were mad at her, but—”
She cut me off. “It wasn’t just that. I mean, okay, that was part of it. I’ve reported Ashley to her a hundred times for breaking
the rules and Mrs. Jonas never does anything about it. And you know Ashley’s been on my case all year. So then that day, Ashley
and Melanie were playing around with my diorama, laughing and making jokes about it, and Mrs. Jonas just expected me to just
blow it off and help them. And I thought, Here I am getting punished and having to do extra work for something Ashley did.”
We all exchanged nods. She was right. It wasn’t fair. But that was no excuse for stealing.
“Anyway.” Lydia drew a deep breath. “Mrs. Jonas got called to the office and I needed her Wite-Out to paint those stupid mustaches
off the Founding Fathers, and when I got to her desk the drawer was open and her purse was sitting there with an envelope
full of money. Ashley and Melanie had gone to the bathroom to…” Lydia paused and blanched. “Whatever it is they do in there,
and it all just made me so mad and I, I, reached in and took the money.” She was breathing hard. At any moment, she was going
to have an asthma attack. Turning to face me, she added, “I didn’t mean to do it. It was just this urge I couldn’t control.
You know?”
Unfortunately, I did. I had to fight the same demon urge every time I saw a Snickers bar. I might’ve nodded.
Lydia said, “I know it was a bad thing to do. But later, it seemed to be the perfect opportunity to catch Ashley in the act.
Like you said we had to, Jenny.”
“Me?” All the blood rushed to my face. “When did I say that?”
“Here, in the Peacemobile,” she answered. “That day we were trying to figure out how to get Ashley.”
“Hey, don’t put this off on me. I never meant—”
Max jumped in. “So, how does your stealing money catch Krupps in the act?”
“Good question.” I looked at Lydia.
She clucked. “I was going to put the stolen money in Ashley’s purse. But, as you know, she sleeps with that stupid purse.”
“Let me get this straight.” I backed away from Lydia so that I could face her head-on. So that I could put some distance between
us. Before I could formulate a question, though, Prairie asked, “Did you steal Ms. M-Milner’s money, too?”
Lydia let out a short laugh. “Okay, let me explain.”
“You did?” I may have spit on her. “Lydia—”
“I did it for Max,” she said.
Max’s eyes about popped out of their sockets. We were all so flabbergasted, no one could speak. Lydia sobered fast and added,
“When I was hiding from the snake back there and saw the money, the perfect plan came to me. I could kill two birds with one
stone. Since Max was suspended, she couldn’t get blamed. And if I could somehow plant the money on Ashley…” Lydia aimed an
accusing finger at Max. “Then
you
had to go ruin it by showing up at school. What were you doing there, anyway?”
Max curled a lip. “I left my Nikes in my gym locker. Is that a crime?”
Compared to Lydia’s felonious activities, I thought not.
“Let me get this straight,” I started again. “You stole the money so you could clear Max’s name and frame Ashley?”
“Exactly.” Lydia pointed her finger at me. “I mean, no.” She dropped her arm. “I didn’t
mean
to steal the money. It wasn’t premeditated or anything. But it was sort of like fate. It’s what we always wanted, right?
To get Ashley?”
“Yeah,” I said. “To get her for something she’s done. Geez, Lydia.” I shook my head. “I don’t know which is worse. Stealing
the money or framing an innocent person.”
“Ashley Krupps is not innocent.” Lydia’s voice rose. “She’s guilty as sin.”
“Stealing is the sin,” Prairie said softly.
Lydia’s eyes flickered over to her. “I know. I know it was wrong. I was sorry the minute I took the money. I’ve never done
anything like that in my whole life. And as soon as you told us what Ms. Milner’s money was for, I put it back.”
“What about Mrs. Jonas’s money?” I asked. “If you’re so sorry, why didn’t you give hers back, too?”
Lydia’s face fell. “I couldn’t,” she mumbled. She folded her hands in her lap. “I spent it.”
“On what?” we all said together.
Lydia swallowed hard. In a tiny voice, she answered, “On earrings like yours and Prairie’s. Because I don’t have a boyfriend
to give me expensive presents. And I never will.” She burst into tears.
Prairie and I looked hopelessly at one another. Prairie searched in her pack for a Kleenex and handed it to Lydia. A vision
materialized in my head. The gray velvet box. “Were those the earrings—”
I didn’t even get to finish before Lydia nodded violently. “Now Ashley has
them
, too,” she wailed.
Lydia sobbed and wheezed at the same time. It was a heart-wrenching sound, especially right in my ear. Prairie was the one
who went over to Lydia. Straddling the sofa arm, she patted Lydia’s back and said, “It’s okay, Lyd.”
“No, it’s not.” Lydia hiccuped. “I’m a horrible person.”
The three of us looked at each other. It’s at a moment like this you start to remember all the bad things you’ve done in your
life. Like hoarding food in your room and lying about it. Like sneaking into your sister’s room and exchanging your old Michael
Jackson CD for her new NSYNC. Like copying off Lydia’s science quizzes all year. Like accusing your boyfriend of being a crook.
I slid over closer to Lydia and patted her other shoulder blade. “Look, Lydia,” I said. “No one’s perfect. I just wish you’d
told us sooner so we wouldn’t have suspected each other.”
“I tried,” Lydia snuffled. “But all you and Prairie ever wanted to talk about was your stupid boyfriends.”
Was that true? Prairie met my eyes. Wow, had we made Lydia and Max feel left out? I looked at Max. She shrugged, as if she
didn’t care. But then, Max was a different person from Lydia.
Lydia blew her nose. “Buying the earrings was the dumbest thing I ever did,” she blubbered. “I couldn’t even wear them. You
guys would notice and my mom would want to know where I got them. You hate me now, don’t you? You’re going to kick me off
the Squad. And I wouldn’t blame you.”
Before she suffered an irreversible emotional breakdown, I said, “We don’t hate you, Lydia. We can’t. It’s against the Snob
Squad rules.”
She blinked at me.
“All for one and one for all?” I did the Snob Squad salute.
That brought a weak smile to Lydia’s tortured face. A horn honked out front and we all started. It was Lydia’s mother coming
to pick her up.
“Oh, my God!” Lydia freaked. “She’s going to kill me when she finds out what I did.”
“So don’t tell her,” Max said.
Lydia scoffed. “I have to tell her. She’s my mother. Anyway, I have to get Mrs. Jonas’s money back to her somehow.” She blew
her nose. “Unless you guys have a plan.”
Before we could respond, she shook her head and said, “Forget that. This is my problem. It’s something I have to fix myself.”
I’m glad she realized that. Even if we could figure out a way to raise eighty-five dollars, Lydia would still have to tell
her mother. She knew it, and we knew it.
We all got up at once. Sliding open the minivan door, I advised her, “Just tell your mom exactly what you told us. Try to
slip in the fact that she’s the one who forced you to solve your own problems without her help.”
Everyone arched eyebrows at me.
“Hey, it never hurts to lay a little guilt trip on them.”
Max caught Lydia’s arm. “You want me to go with you? So your mom doesn’t beat you bloody or nothin’?”
Lydia sneered at Max. “My mother doesn’t beat me. She’s a child psychologist. Duh.”
“Uh, one suggestion,” I said to Lydia. “Don’t remind her of that just now.”
The horn honked again. Lydia flinched. She inhaled a deep breath and, stepping down from the van, said, “Well, here goes.
It’s been fun. If I never see you guys again…”
“You’ll see us again,” I assured her. “You can’t get rid of us that easily.” As she disappeared into the weeds, I hollered
at her back, “I’ll call you tonight.”
Lydia turned. “Don’t call after nine. You’ll get me in trouble.”
Which cracked me up, for some reason. Cracked us all up, even Lydia. Prairie slipped an arm around my waist and one around
Max’s. We shared this silent understanding. About friendship and what it meant. Like forgiveness and trust and loyalty. Being
there for each other in times of need, through thick or thin. In Lydia’s case, extra thick.
Dear Faith in Friends but Furious at My Father Food Diary
,
It makes sense now, why Lydia’s been acting so weird, so mad all the time. Guilt will do that to a person; eat away at you
until you can’t even stand yourself. Especially if you’re a good person, deep down, the way I know Lydia is
.
I stopped writing and sighed sadly. Poor Lydia. With one impulsive act, she’d ruined her life. Ruined mine, too.
“Oh, that isn’t true,” I said out loud. Her life wasn’t over. It just wasn’t going to be much fun for a while. In my food
diary I wrote,
No one can ruin your life except you. And I sure ruined it with Kevin. I thought about calling him or writing him a letter
of apology, but how do you apologize for not trusting someone you love? Like Dad
.
I still can’t get over what Dad did. I’ll never forgive him
.
I paused again and shook my head. Flipping to the next page, I continued at the top,
That isn’t true, either. I have to forgive him, he’s my dad. If I’m not forgiving, how can I expect others to be? Guess what
else, dear diary? I lost two and a half pounds in two weeks. And it doesn’t even matter
.
“Jenny, breakfast,” Dad hollered down the hall.
When I didn’t break down the door to get to the kitchen, I guess he got concerned. A minute later a knock sounded.
“Jenny?”
“What?” I snapped. Hey, I said I’d forgive him, not make his life easy.
“Can I come in?”
“Just a minute. Let me hide my valuables.” Slowly I moved toward the door. Ten, twenty, thirty seconds passed. Opening the
door a crack, I asked, “Yes?”
“Come to breakfast,” he said. “We’re celebrating the first day of summer vacation.”
I didn’t feel like there was much to celebrate. Not even the fact that I could finally wear shorts, since Kevin would never
see me in the flesh.
“I made waffles.” Dad wiggled his eyebrows. “With blueberry syrup and Cool Whip.”
“I’m not all that hungry,” I lied. Could he detect my hyperventilating? If he thought the way to my heart was through my stomach,
he was right. I opened the door.