I rolled my eyes. “Definitely.”
“They just seem like such jerks.”
“I liked Alex Zacharias,” I said, trying to be careful. “What about him?”
Robert shrugged. “He’s changed since his parents got divorced. It’s as if that’s all he thinks about now. And I don’t know anything about that, so I can’t help him. We don’t have anything to talk about anymore.”
“What about baseball?” I suggested. “The guys on the team are pretty nice, most of them, anyway. Why don’t you hang out with them more?”
“They’re boring. All they talk about is whether the team is going to win or lose.”
“Isn’t that interesting to you?” I asked.
“Not really. I used to care, but lately I just don’t. If you think about it, what does it actually matter? So what if we make it to the division championship? Big deal. It’s not going to change the world or anything.”
“You don’t play baseball to change the world,” I pointed out. “You play for fun.”
“Then who cares whether you win or not?”
“It’s more fun if you try to win.”
“But in the end it’s pointless,” he insisted.
“Does everything have to have a point?” I asked.
“No,” he replied thoughtfully. “It’s just that if most things are pointless, why bother?”
“I don’t know,” I had to admit. He was so gloomy, he was making me feel blue.
I couldn’t let that happen. My mission was to make him feel better, not to make myself feel bad.
I kept up a lively one-sided conversation about the BSC and what everyone was up to. (I hoped he didn’t find it pointless.) When we arrived at my house he came into the kitchen, just the way he always used to. Mom’s rule was that he could come in while she was out, but we had to stay in the kitchen.
“You’ve told me what everyone else is doing,” he said, sitting down in a kitchen chair. “What about you? What have you been up to?”
The first thing I thought of was that I’d been doing all sorts of interesting activities in the city with Ethan — visiting art galleries, attending concerts in the park, even going to poetry readings. But I couldn’t tell him about those things without telling him about Ethan. And somehow I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him about my new boyfriend.
“The same old, same old,” I replied instead. “You know, school stuff, the BSC, seeing Dad on weekends.”
I pulled a plastic bag of sliced carrot sticks from the fridge. By the time I come home from school, I need a healthy snack to keep my blood sugar at the right level. I offered some carrots to Robert and he took a few.
“Doesn’t it bother you to do the same things day after day, year after year?” he asked.
“No,” I replied. “For one thing, I don’t feel as if I do the same things over and over.” (Especially not since I’d met Ethan, but I couldn’t say that.)
“But you just told me you were doing the same old, same old,” he reminded me.
He had me there. “What I meant was that I’ve been doing the same sorts of things. But they’re never exactly the same. The kids we sit for are always up to something new. And Kristy is always hatching some new plan or other. And there’s always something different going on in school.”
“But basically it’s all more or less the same. Isn’t it?” he challenged.
“Well, yes, but … it’s different enough to be interesting,” I replied.
Robert shook his head sadly. “I just can’t manage to see things that way. It looks to me as if we all just keep repeating the same pointless, stupid activities over and over until we die. So in the end even life itself is pointless.”
I put down my carrots and took a seat next to him at the table. This was serious. “Robert, if that’s how you feel, you have to find some friends and activities that interest you. What do you like to do?”
“Nothing,” he answered. “I’ve thought about it. There’s not really anything I can think of that’s worth doing.”
“Forget about it being worthwhile,” I said. “Think about what you would enjoy.”
“I can’t enjoy doing something I don’t see the point in doing.” Robert slumped in his chair, his head supported by his hand. He was so unlike the old Robert, who had always been ready to jump up and play tennis, or ride his bike, or play a sport. It was as if all the energy had gone out of him.
“You mean there’s nothing you like to do anymore?” I tried again, finding him so difficult to understand — and so frustrating to talk to!
He smiled, although his eyes remained sad. “Until now, I’d forgotten about one thing I like to do.”
“What?”
“Talk to you,” he said.
“What’s going on between you and Robert?” Claudia asked me at the start of our next Wednesday BSC meeting. “I saw you walking home with him last Monday, but you haven’t said a word about anything. It’s driving me crazy.”
“I’m glad you asked, because I’ve been dying to know,” Abby said to Claudia. “And if you don’t know, I bet no one else knows either.” She turned to me. “Tell, Stacey. Tell.”
“Are you guys getting back together?” Mary Anne asked.
I held up both hands to stop them. “No! No, nothing like that. I haven’t talked about it because I didn’t want to betray Robert’s confidence. I guess I can tell you guys a little — but that’s it. Robert is going through some tough times right now. Tough emotionally, I mean. I’m only trying to help him out. You know, be a friend.”
“What kind of emotional tough time?” Kristy asked.
“He’s feeling down about things in general. And he’s feeling out of touch with his friends,” I said. “Just — down in the dumps.”
“What about the baseball team?” Kristy asked.
I shrugged.
“He can’t stay down about baseball for long,” Abby put in. “If they win next week against Howard Township, they’ll be division champs. The team is psyched. SMS Baseball hasn’t won a division championship in five years. Now they have a shot at it. Some kids think they even have a chance at being regional champs.”
“Logan is so excited he can’t think about anything else,” Mary Anne added. (Logan is also on the baseball team.)
“Has he said anything about Robert?” I asked her. “How he’s playing? How he seems?”
Mary Anne shook her head.
“Are you sure you two aren’t getting back together?” Abby pressed.
“Positive,” I insisted. Although, truthfully, I didn’t feel sure about anything that was going on between us. I cared about Robert, but I no longer felt the way I used to feel. I just wanted to help.
If only I could understand what had gone wrong with him. I remembered Claudia’s theory — that he’d broken off with me because something had started bothering him at that time. It made sense. But what was it that bothered him so? Why couldn’t he work up any enthusiasm for anything?
That night I couldn’t fall asleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about Robert, wondering what was bugging him. It was a problem I had to solve. I was involved now. I couldn’t back off the way I had done in February.
If Robert liked talking to me, then it made sense that I should spend as much time as possible talking to him. Robert had always stood by me when I had problems. When I didn’t make the cheerleading squad, he quit the basketball team to be supportive. I talked his ear off when I was deciding whether or not to stay in the BSC, back in that disastrous time when I quit for a while. No matter what my problem was, Robert had always been there for me.
Now it was my turn. I owed him that much.
The big May dance was coming up. I wondered if I should ask him to go — just as friends, of course. It might cheer him up.
But it might also give him the idea that I wanted to get back together with him. And I definitely did not want to do that. I was too crazy about Ethan. Even if Ethan weren’t in my life, I wouldn’t have g
one back to Robert. That feeling we’d once shared was simply gone now. At least on my part it was gone.
I’d have to be very careful. I would have to be extremely clear that I was there for him as a friend — no more than that.
The next day, Thursday, I went to school determined to have a talk with Robert. I wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject, but he mentioned it first.
“Everyone thinks we’re a couple again,” he said casually as we walked down the hall on our way to math.
My heart started to pump harder. Did he want us to be a couple again? “Oh, yeah? Who said that?” My voice came out high-pitched and shaky. I wondered if Robert noticed. He didn’t seem to.
“Jacqui Grant,” he replied.
“Oh.” I laughed lightly. Nervously. “That’s not surprising. I think Jacqui still likes you. She’d want to know. What did you tell her?”
“I said, yeah, we were.”
I stopped walking. I couldn’t believe what he’d just said. My face must have turned pale because Robert was suddenly very concerned.
“I only told her that to get her off my back,” he explained quickly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just thought it was one way to get rid of Jacqui once and for all.” He took my arm and steered me to the water fountain. “You’d better have something to drink.”
I drank some water and felt less shaky. “So, you just said that to make her leave you alone?”
“Yes. Totally.”
I studied his face. Was he telling me the truth? Or had he simply backtracked fast when he saw how I reacted to his words? I wasn’t sure.
“You wouldn’t want that … would you?” he asked cautiously.
“A lot of time has gone by, Robert,” I said carefully. “We’ve both changed. I — I wasn’t thinking about us in that way.”
“Me neither,” he agreed quickly. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t getting the wrong idea.”
“Oh, no!” I laughed with relief. “Not at all. You don’t have to worry about that!”
“Good,” he said with a smile. “Good.”
I’d almost forgotten what a great smile Robert has.
We entered our math class. Robert sat at his desk and paid attention. He even answered a question correctly. I was very encouraged. Very.
At lunch, I always sit with my BSC pals, except for Jessi and Mallory, who have a different lunch period. I told my friends everything that had happened.
“Did you believe Robert? Is he really glad you’re just friends or is he only saying that?” Claudia asked.
“Yes, I believe him. He feels the same way I do. I think he’s cheering up too.”
Kristy scowled. “Does that mean that you have to hang out with him constantly in order for him to feel better?”
I sat back in my chair and grimaced. I hadn’t thought that far into the future.
“No way,” Abby answered for me. “She’s just helping him through a bad time. Once he feels better he’ll be able to fend for himself.”
“Right,” I agreed. Abby knew about bad times. She’d lived through horrible sadness after her father’s death. I figured she knew what she was talking about — and I hoped she was right.
On Friday, Robert really did seem to be feeling better. He wasn’t Mr. Jolly, but he seemed slightly more positive about things. “Lunch smells good today,” he commented as we walked into the cafeteria together. It may not sound like much, but anyone who can find a nice thing to say about our school lunches can’t be feeling too bad.
I sat down with my friends, but then I noticed that Robert was eating alone. “Would you mind if I sat with him?” I asked, nodding in Robert’s direction.
“I don’t mind,” Mary Anne said.
“You can’t baby-sit him forever,” Kristy grumbled.
I pretended I didn’t hear her and went off to join Robert. He smiled, glad to see me. “Where are the rest of your friends?” I asked, trying to sound light.
“I think they all cut class this afternoon,” he told me. “I’m glad they’re gone.”
“They never get bored with trouble, do they?”
“You’d think they would,” he said, shaking his head. “But they’re so boring themselves they don’t know what boring is.”
When we were going out I would have loved to hear him say that about those kids. It might have meant he was going to stop hanging around with them. Now it only worried me. I didn’t want to hear that he no longer liked kids who had always been his friends — not if he wasn’t replacing them with new friends.
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” I said.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to be Stacey Sunshine around me,” Robert replied. “You can just relax, you know.”
“Oh, sorry.”
After that, we ate in silence. Robert didn’t make any effort to talk. And I couldn’t think of anything to say. I didn’t want to sound like Stacey Sunshine, and I didn’t want to complain or sound depressing in any way. He seemed slightly cheerier and I didn’t want to do anything to mess that up.
“Well, see you later,” he said when we were finished. “I can’t walk home with you this afternoon. I have something to do.”
“Right. Baseball practice,” I said. “I’ll see you Monday, I guess.”
That afternoon, I decided to surprise Robert and watch the practice. I hoped that all the excitement over the big game might have him fired up. If so, I wanted to be as encouraging as possible.
But when I arrived at practice, I couldn’t find Robert. I looked all around but there was no sign of him. I did see Logan, though. When he saw me, he waved and ran across the field to me.
“Hi. Have you seen Robert?” I asked.
A strange expression came over Logan’s face. “Didn’t he tell you?” he asked.
“Tell me what?”
“Robert quit the team. Three days ago. No one could believe he just up and quit before the big game. It really messes us up. He’s one of our best hitters. I can’t believe he didn’t tell you.”
“No,” I murmured. “He didn’t say a thing.”
My mind reeled. Three days ago! That was Wednesday. On Thursday he’d seemed to be a little better. Was it because he’d quit the team?
And, I wondered, if Robert could keep a secret like that, what else wasn’t he telling me?
That Saturday, Jessi and Mallory took their brothers and sisters to the grand opening of the picking fields at Strawberry Fields Forever. Mr. and Mrs. Pike drove them, which required both of the Pike station wagons. The Pike triplets, Byron, Adam, and Jordan, had a baseball game, so they didn’t go.
“It’s always merry to pick a berry,” sang out nine-year-old Vanessa Pike as they piled out of the cars at the fields. She wants to be a poet and likes to rhyme everything. “If they’re sweet, they’re good to eat. When they’re not ripe, they’ll make you gripe.”
“What does gripe mean?” asked Margo Pike, who is seven.
“It means to complain,” Vanessa explained.
“That doesn’t make sense,” said eight-year-old Nicky Pike. “Why would a green strawberry make you complain?”
“Because it would make you sick if you ate it,” Mallory explained as she adjusted the strap on five-year-old Claire’s sun hat.
“Remember that,” Mr. Pike warned them. “Don’t eat the green ones. And don’t eat too many red ones, for that matter.” He turned the peak of Nicky’s baseball cap from the back to the front. Then he took out a tube of sunblock and slathered it on Nicky’s neck.
“Ew, Dad, that’s cold,” Nicky complained (or, should I say, griped).
“Remember the sunburn you came home with the last time you picked berries,” Mr. Pike reminded him. “I want everyone to wear this stuff.”
“And stay together,” Mrs. Pike added. “Mallory and Jessi need to be able to see you kids at all times.”
“Stop worrying,” Mallory assured them. “We’ll be fine.”
Mr. Pike handed her a twenty-dollar bi
ll. “If this isn’t enough, you’ve picked too many berries,” he said.
“Berries!” Squirt Ramsey cried, throwing out his arms wide with excitement. (Actually he said, “Bewwies.” That’s how Jessi imitated him when she told me that story. He’s not so good at r’s yet.)
“I’m not sure he even knows what a berry is.” Jessi laughed as she rubbed sunblock into his cheeks.
“Yes, he does,” Becca Ramsey defended her little brother. “He made blueberry muffins with Aunt Cecelia last week.” She giggled. “Well, he tried to help. He smeared the batter all over the floor.”
“Oh, big help,” Jessi commented. “I’m sure Aunt Cecelia was thrilled.”
Mr. and Mrs. Pike left in one station wagon to do some shopping downtown. Jessi, Mallory, and the kids walked a few yards to a table where they were each given several empty green plastic baskets by a thin, tanned, white-haired woman.
The group set to work. Mallory stayed with Claire, and Jessi helped Squirt find red berries nestled beneath the green leaves of the low-growing plants. Vanessa, Margo, and Becca went off together in a threesome. “I’m picking more than anybody,” Nicky announced before walking off in his own direction.
“No, you’re not.” Margo took up the challenge. “I am.”
For a while, Jessi and Mallory were so caught up with helping Claire and Squirt that they forgot about the older kids. They were reminded when they heard shouting and wild squeals of laughter.
Jessi looked up first and saw Nicky and Becca hurling berries at each other. Margo and Vanessa were soon into the fight. A strawberry bounced off Becca’s head and popped into the air. Another berry hit Nicky on the forehead.
“Stop!” Mallory cried, charging across the field to them. “Stop!” A strawberry flew over her head. “Not funny, Nicky!” she scolded her brother.
The kids stopped throwing berries, but they were still covered with them. “These aren’t free,” Mallory reminded them. “You can’t throw them around.”
Margo pointed at Nicky. “He started it.”
“Tattletale!” Nicky shouted at Margo.
“I don’t care who started it. Just cut it out.” Mallory marched back to Claire. Immediately, she saw that all the berries she and Claire had picked were missing. “What happened to the strawberries?” she asked.