Fifty-Four Things Wrong with Gwendolyn Rogers by Caela Carter

Author:Caela Carter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quill Tree Books
Published: 2021-08-05T00:00:00+00:00

13

Letter Friends

A few hours later, Mom and I stand on the doorstep of Thaís’s mansion. Maybe it’s not a real mansion but it looks like one to me. There are so many windows. I’m sure I’ll get lost.

On my shoulders, I have Mom’s backpack (mine was too gross) stuffed with pajamas and clothes for tomorrow and my toothbrush and everything else I need. Mom packed for me so I know it will all be there. Under my right arm, I have a brand-new, rolled-up teal-and-black sleeping bag. Under my left arm, I have the at-home pedicure set I bought for Thaís’s birthday present. Mom wrapped it in the car so it’s a little messy (but way better than if I had wrapped it), and it has a big purple bow right over the part where she messed up from rushing. My braids are tight on my head because for some reason Mom did them and redid them until they were perfect without me even asking. Maybe because I have ADHD now. Maybe having a disorder that people understand will mean it’s easier to get what I need.

Except medicine. Of course.

“Make sure you say please and thank you, OK?” Mom is whispering. “And don’t forget to greet Thaís’s parents. And don’t stay up all night, OK? And make sure if you’re up late that you remember to lower your voice. And make sure that you leave room for the other kids to talk, too, OK? And don’t forget to say happy birthday right away.”

I’m nodding along to all the reminders even though this is sort of like asking me if I know how to behave. I’d get 100 percent on the Sleepover Behavior Quiz too. I hope that this is different than PowerKids. I hope that knowing how to behave means I actually do behave tonight.

Confidence, please help me.

The buzzing inside me turns from nerves to excitement. My first sleepover.

And something—anything—to think about besides the fact that Mom won’t let me have those blue pills.

Ms. Gonzalez opens the door. I immediately smell melted cheese and grease and hear my old friends laughing.

“Gwendolyn!” she says. “You’re the last to arrive.”

I knew I probably would be because we’re thirty minutes late.

31. Poor sense of time

“The girls are in the back. Follow the sound of their voices. We were just about to serve the pizza.”

I step inside the door, forcing my muscles to move slowly. I turn and look at Ms. Gonzalez. “Thank you for having me,” I say.

She smiles. “Aren’t you polite,” she says.

I can feel Mom’s body relax behind me.

“What time should I pick her up tomorrow?” Mom asks.

“Oh right,” Ms. Gonzalez says. “My oldest has a basketball tournament tomorrow. We have to leave at ten, so if you could pick her up any time before that, that would be great.”

Ten, I think. Ut-oh.

I turn to look at Mom. I know she has a meeting at ten on Saturdays. She usually lets me sleep in and goes by herself every Saturday. It’s the only time she leaves me home alone.

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