At last Libby found her voice. “I was going to tell you about it,” she said. “Today. I swear. I just didn’t know how before. I kept hoping you’d guess my favorite candy, because I thought that would be a perfect time to tell you. But then you couldn’t figure it out, and I realized today how wrong it was to keep it from you.”
He looked at her again. “How am I supposed to believe you? You’ve had so many chances to tell me. And you didn’t.”
“Well, see, I went and saw Margaret again and she said something —”
He held up a hand, interrupting her. “I don’t think I can meet you here anymore. Or talk to you at school. I mean, it doesn’t seem right. We’re on different sides.”
Libby had a feeling that wasn’t the real reason. He’d trusted her, and Libby knew she’d let him down. Her upset stomach gurgled as she glanced up at the sky. It’d begun to rain again.
She turned her attention back to Cedric. “Please don’t talk like that. You make it sound like a comic book story. Like I’m the villain or something.”
The rain fell harder. “I gotta go,” Cedric said. “I didn’t bring an umbrella.”
Libby popped hers open. “Here, we can share. It’s more than big enough for the two of us.”
“It’s a little too late to decide you want to share with me now,” he said softly. And then he and Goldie turned around and walked away.
The last yellow leaf.
Winter is the enemy.
It falls. The tree cries.
The next day, Sunday, Libby stared out her bedroom window, watching as the rain pounded the bare trees. The only haiku she’d written that was halfway decent, in her mind, was one that expressed how sad she felt at what had happened with Cedric. Try as she might, she couldn’t write one for Rebecca.
Loneliness filled her. A lot had happened over the past few weeks and all of the missing — for her great-grandma, for Rebecca, and now for Cedric — made her heart hurt.
She got up and reached under her bed to get the box that held all of Grandma Grace’s journals. Sometimes her grandma had written about hard times, and Libby thought maybe reading about how she got through them would make her feel better.
She flipped through a couple of the more recent journals, but realized they weren’t particularly interesting. The older Grandma Grace had become, the less she’d written.
Libby reached down and pulled one from deep in the stack. The dates on the front told her this one was written about fifteen years ago. It occurred to Libby that this was about the time Grandma Grace had moved out of the house she’d lived in for a really long time. Maybe, Libby thought, she’d written about that experience. It couldn’t have been easy, to leave the house she’d loved, filled with so many wonderful family memories.
When Libby cracked open the journal, it opened to a folded piece of paper stuck between the pages, as if it’d been placed there for safekeeping. Libby’s heart started racing.
It couldn’t be, could it?
Very carefully, Libby unfolded the paper. When she saw what it was, she let out a loud gasp. Her hands shook as she read the poem she’d previously convinced herself she’d never find.
Friendship is the Sweetest Thing
by Mae Carlisle
A fragrant rose
in a darling vase,
a delicious peach,
a puppy’s face.
These things are sweet,
it’s oh so true,
but none compare
to a friend like you.
It’s rare to have
a friend who cares,
is always there,
who listens and shares.
Wherever you go,
whatever you do,
you’re the sweetest of all
and I appreciate you.
“Wow,” Libby whispered. She’d found it. She’d actually found it! Grandma Grace must have stuck the poem in the journal and forgotten about it.
Libby read the poem a few more times, wondering what it felt like when Grandma Grace received the special gift from Mae. She must have been so touched by the whole thing.
Libby tried to imagine Rebecca writing her a poem like the one Mae had written, and it almost made her laugh. In all the years she’d known her, Rebecca hadn’t done much giving at all. They had played and had fun, like most friends do. But so often, Rebecca was all about … Rebecca.
And that’s when it hit her. She suddenly knew why she’d had such a hard time writing a poem for Rebecca. If Rebecca had been a good friend, the kind of “friend who cares, is always there, who listens and shares,” it would have been much easier to write a sweet poem for her and about her.
The problem was, Rebecca hadn’t been that kind of friend. At least, not in a really long time.
With the poem in hand, she returned to her desk and got out a piece of paper. Libby couldn’t wait to tell someone about this latest discovery. If anyone would understand how the poem made her feel, she thought it would be Caitlin, since it’d been her small book of poems that Libby and the rest of the girls had fallen in love with at camp.
Dear Caitlin,
Thanks for your recent letter. I’m so glad you are having fun with your new friends — they sound like wonderful girls.
I just read a poem that one of my great-grandma’s friends wrote for her a long, long time ago. It’s called “Friendship is the Sweetest Thing.” I’ll have to bring it along to camp next summer and share it during friendship circle. I think my Cabin 7 BFFs will like it a lot.
It might sound strange, but the poem made me think about my friend Rebecca in a new way. I think I’ve realized it’s time to let her go. Have you ever had to do that? Let a friend go?
I feel like maybe I haven’t missed my best friend, Rebecca, as much as I’ve missed simply having a best friend. I mean, I know I have you and Mia and Hannah, but it’s hard when you’re not here to do things with.
Anyway, now I’ve upset another friend, and I have to try and figure out how to fix things. I’m hoping the lucky bracelet comes through for me, and everything works out. If only I had a pair of lucky trousers too. (Sorry, you won’t know what that means, I know. Long story.)
Oh, I almost forgot — happy holidays!
Write back soon.
Your Cabin 7 BFF,
Libby
Before school on Monday, Libby found Sabrina and asked if she’d have lunch with her. She was relieved when Sabrina said yes. After everything that had happened over the weekend, Libby desperately needed to talk to someone.
When they met up, they found a spot at the end of a table where they could sit and chat while eating their lunches from home.
After they sat down, Sabrina said, “I’ve been dying to know if you found the jar.”
Libby smiled. “I did.”
Sabrina clapped her hands together. “Oh hooray, the mystery is solved. Did you go to your great-grandma’s house and find it there?”
Libby shook her head and then told the story of how she’d come to find the light purple canning jar. Sabrina munched on her sandwich as she listened to the story intently. When Libby finished, Sabrina said, “Wait a second. You couldn’t find the jar because it had changed color? That is, like, the niftiest thing ever.”
Her reaction made Libby laugh. “I know. I might not believe it if I hadn’t seen it for myself. And I’m so glad that Margaret let me take the jar home. But you haven’t even heard the best part yet. I found the poem Mae had written to Grandma Grace, in one of her old journals. That was the thing I was most interested in, because …”
Libby’s voice trailed off, as she thought of Rebecca and their friendship troubles. She really didn’t want to share those troubles with Sabrina. At least, not right now.
“Because why?” Sabrina asked.
“Because it’s more personal,” Libby said. “It’s a really sweet poem too. In fact, the poem is even titled, ‘Friendship is the Sweetest Thing.’ ”
“Ah,” Sabrina said. “
I love that. Is it a good poem?”
Libby swallowed a bite of her sandwich and then said, “I think it is. I mean, have you ever tried to write a poem before? I spent the weekend trying to write haikus, and it’s harder than you think. Mae wasn’t a professional writer or anything, just a regular girl like you or me, so yeah, it’s really good.”
“Why were you trying to write haikus?” Sabrina asked.
“Because I was trying to figure out my feelings about some things,” Libby said.
“Did it work?” Sabrina asked.
Libby nibbled on an apple slice as she thought about this. “In a way, yes. I wrote one about how sad I am that Cedric is mad at me. That’s why I wanted to talk to you today, actually. I could use your help. I have to get him to see how sorry I am.”
“Why is he mad at you?” Sabrina asked.
“My family owns Mr. Pemberton’s Olde Sweetshop. Cedric’s family owns The Sweet Retreat. But when I found that out, I didn’t tell him about our sweetshop. I was finally going to, on Saturday, when I met up with him at the park. I’d suddenly realized how wrong it was for me to keep the secret from him. Except he found out about it before I could tell him.”
“Uh-oh,” Sabrina said as she popped a baby carrot into her mouth. As she chewed, she seemed to be thinking hard. “So tell me about him. What’s Cedric like?”
“He’s nice. Kind of quiet. He has a dog named Goldie. And, like I told you at the park, he likes to draw. And to read comic books.” She thought about his stamp collection, but she knew that wasn’t something he’d want Libby to share. “I think he just really likes art. Oh, and he has some lucky trousers.” The thought made her happy and sad all at the same time. “I should have told him a long time ago about our sweetshop. I know that now. But I can’t go back. All I can do is try to make things right.”
“Maybe you should make him a cake or something.”
Libby had actually been wracking her brain, trying to think of something Cedric would like. A cake seemed too random, like she could do that for anyone. She wanted to do something special. Unique. Something that showed him she’d really thought about it, and that his friendship meant a lot to her.
When Mae came to visit Grandma Grace all those years ago, she’d probably brought a jar of peaches along because they were one of Grace’s favorite things. Grandma Grace had even written in the journal about how much she loved them, and that she could still remember how fun it had been to share the jar of peaches with her friend.
So what could she do that would send the message loud and clear to Cedric that their friendship mattered to Libby? Frustrated, she put her head in her hands and sighed. “If only Lobsterman could come and save the day.”
Sabrina chuckled. “Did you say Lobsterman?”
“Yes. He’s a character Cedric drew.” Just then, Libby sat up straight, as an idea popped into her brain. “Wait a minute. You like to draw. And I like to draw. Although I’m not that good with people or animals. But I could try.”
“What are you thinking of doing?”
Libby looked over at the windows that lined one side of the cafeteria. The storm from yesterday had passed. It was cloudy, but dry.
“Do you think you could meet me at the park?” Libby asked. “After school?”
“No problem. Remember, almost every day my mother pushes me outside if it’s not raining.”
“Could you bring your art supplies too?” Libby asked.
“Sure.”
Libby rubbed her hands together. “You know what? I think this is going to be a lot of fun.”
All week long, Libby and Sabrina met at the park after school, except on Wednesday, when it rained. Libby told her aunt she was meeting a new friend there every day to work on a project and that’s why she couldn’t take Dexter along. Her aunt said she could invite her friend to come to their house, but Libby and Sabrina liked sitting at the park, talking and laughing and drawing without anyone listening in, even when it was chilly and they had to bundle up.
While they drew, they talked about everything. Their favorite books. Their favorite movies. Their favorite foods. And a hundred other things. The more Libby got to know Sabrina, the more she liked her.
And on top of all that, the project they worked on became more and more amazing each day. They were making a comic book for Cedric called Goldie and Dexter Save the World.
It told the story of a spaceship landing in their town of Tunbridge Wells. The townsfolk stayed inside, not sure what to do, hoping the military would take action. But one night, Dexter snuck out of his home and went to get his friend Goldie so she could help him carry out his plan. The two dogs went from neighborhood to neighborhood, gathering up dogs to join their cause. Finally, in the early morning hours, hundreds and hundreds of dogs approached the spaceship. Their barks were deafening. They growled at the aliens any time one of them even peeked his head out of the spacecraft.
The dogs didn’t let up. They stayed all day and most of the night, until finally, with the bright crescent moon hanging low in the sky, the spaceship took off and flew back toward space.
The town had a pet parade the next day to celebrate. Dexter and Goldie sat in the front seat of a convertible car, proud little puppies for saving the world. Cedric and Libby sat in the back, where they threw sweets to all the little kids watching the parade. (Libby made sure the candy bag had the words “The Sweet Retreat” on it.) The last lines of the story read, “After the parade, life went back to normal. Cedric and Libby walked their dogs every Saturday afternoon at the park. And whenever they got into a disagreement, it didn’t last long, because one thing an alien invasion does is make you appreciate your friends and family a little bit more.”
Libby had drawn the funny-looking green aliens and the spaceship. Sabrina had drawn all of the dogs, since she was so good at drawing animals. When they got to the last page, Libby decided she would draw herself and Sabrina would draw Cedric.
“What if he doesn’t like how I draw him?” Sabrina asked on Friday as they finished up the comic book.
Libby smiled. “You sound just like Cedric, asking ‘what if.’ Don’t worry, he’ll like it.”
Sabrina went back to drawing. “I sure hope so. When are you planning on giving it to him anyway?”
“I need to call him and set up a time to meet. If he’ll even agree to see me. If not, I guess I’ll have to find a way to stuff it into his locker at school or something.”
Just then, they heard the words, “Hi, Libby.”
Sabrina looked up and Libby turned around, following the voice that had just said hello. It was Rebecca.
“Oh,” Libby said. “Hi.” She looked around. “Where are all your friends?”
“They’re not here yet. Running late, I guess.”
“Oh. I see. Uh, Rebecca, this is Sabrina. Sabrina, this is Rebecca.”
“Hi!” Sabrina said cheerfully. “Nice to meet you.”
Rebecca peered over Libby at the pages on the table. “What are you two doing?”
Before Libby could reply, Sabrina continued on in her cheery voice. “We’re making this nifty comic book about an alien invasion and dogs saving the world and …”
Her voice trailed off as Libby watched Rebecca’s face scrunch up into a look of disgust.
“Why?” Rebecca asked, her face still looking as if someone had just handed her a worm and told her to eat it. “Why would you want to do that?”
Libby stared at Sabrina, trying to come up with a clever response to that question, but she didn’t have one. So Sabrina replied with a simple, “Because it’s fun?”
Rebecca laughed. “Sure, if you’re an eight-year-old boy, maybe.”
Libby’s blood boiled. Sabrina hadn’t done a single thing to deserve to be treated that way. Rebecca had carried on and on about her new friends in conversations with Libby, and not once had Libby said anything unkind. And in less than a minute of meeting a new friend of Libby’s, she was going to say something like that? Who did she think s
he was?
“That’s not very nice,” Libby said as she stood up. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, Rebecca, but I think you should leave. Go wait for your amazing new friends and leave us alone if you want to act like that.”
Rebecca tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave them a ridiculous fake smile. “I was only messing around. Geez. Can’t you take a joke?”
Just then, a male voice called out, “Rebecca!” from across the park. She turned to see who it was, then smiled and waved.
“Time for me to go,” Rebecca said. “You kids have fun. See ya later.”
She rushed off before Libby or Sabrina could say anything else.
“Did she just call us kids?” Sabrina asked.
Libby sighed. “Yep. She sure did. I’m really sorry. It’s so embarrassing that she acted that way. Honestly, I don’t know what’s happened to her.”
“How do you know her?”
Libby picked up a green pencil and started coloring in a tree she’d drawn for the last park scene. “We used to be best friends.”
Sabrina didn’t say anything for a minute. She went to work coloring the bark brown on Libby’s tree. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know it’s hard. Growing apart. Losing a friend.”
“Yeah,” was all Libby could manage to say. It hurt, thinking of Rebecca as the girl Libby used to be friends with. Even if she knew it was for the best.
“Hey,” Sabrina said. “I have an idea. Want to see if you can sleep over at my house tonight? I’m sure my mum wouldn’t mind. She’d love it, actually. She was just saying earlier today how much she wants to meet you.”
Before Libby could answer, the sound of laughter carried across the park as Rebecca and her friends joked about something. A month ago, Libby would have turned around and stared at Rebecca, so envious of all the fun she was having without her. But something had changed. Just like with the purple canning jar, Libby had found something she hadn’t quite expected. Or rather, someone.
So today, she didn’t turn and stare and feel envious like all of the other times. Today Libby looked at her new friend, smiled, and said, “I’d love to sleep over. Sounds like fun.” Then she took a sheet of paper and started writing on it. She counted out syllables on her fingers, thinking hard, wanting to get it right.