FRIENDS FOREVER
Young Adult Novel about friendship lost, then found again, with a touch of romance. Available as an e-book for Kindle BUY
Chapter One
“Growing up isn’t easy,” Debbie’s mother said as she worked a touch of yellow into the flowers coming to life on a canvas in front of her. “Goodness knows it’s never been easy, but the worst thing I had to worry about when I was your age was whether I’d get a new pimple on the night of my first date. We didn’t have to deal with drugs or wonder if someone was hanging around school with a gun.”
Debbie stood there half-listening, impatient to be off to meet Lauren. She knew her mother meant well, but really. How many times did she have to listen to this same litany?
Her mother’s voice droned on. “I’d never heard of uppers or downers. The only pills I’d ever seen were aspirins. The first time one of those melted in my mouth, I decided I’d never...”
“Mom,” Debbie glanced at the door. “Could we talk about this some other time? I promised to meet Lauren and I’m already late.”
“There, it’s finished.” Her mother picked up a rag and wiped smears of paint off her hands. Somehow she always managed to get as much paint on herself as she did on the canvas, and Debbie could measure her mother’s progress with a painting by the number of different colors splattered across her smock.
Her mother gestured to the picture. “What do you think?”
Debbie glanced briefly at the landscape. “It’s pretty, Mom. Can I go now?”
“Such enthusiasm. I don’t know if I can stand it.”
“Aw, Mom.”
Her mother laughed. “Okay. But you can only stay an hour. Then I want you back to help me with dinner.”
Debbie stopped her mad dash to the door. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair, my little Chickadee says. Fair? Let’s find our contract and see what it says about fair.” Her mother made a big show of shuffling papers on the desk next to her art table. Debbie groaned. The woman always acted a little goofy when she finished a painting, but this was a bit much.
“Okay, Mom, I get your point. Can I go now?”
Barely waiting for her mother’s nod, Debbie raced to the door, stepping out into bright sunshine and a cool, fall breeze. The leaves were just starting to turn, and Debbie noticed that the colors on the maple almost matched the vibrant yellows and oranges in her mother’s painting. Sweet. Maybe she should have said something nicer about the picture.
Lauren lived across the street in a rambling ranch house similar to its neighbors, but distinct in landscape design. What Debbie’s mother could accomplish on canvas, Mrs. Parker created in dirt. Asters and chrysanthemums bloomed brilliantly against a backdrop of deep green shrubs. Pansies and primroses created a riot of pink, purple and white in and around a rock garden. And a low, sculpted hedge followed the curved walkway to the front door.
Most days, Debbie would pause long enough to enjoy the gardening spectacle, but today she had more important things on her mind. She hoped Lauren wouldn’t be mad at her for being late. Her friend seemed to get mad over every little thing lately, and Debbie wasn’t quite sure of her footing anymore.
She didn’t understand it. They had been best friends since first grade. As far as she was concerned nothing had changed, and she couldn’t figure out what she’d done to create this tension between them. The only thing she knew for sure was that ever since Angie Cooper started including Lauren in her group, things hadn’t been the same.
“Boy, I hate that Angie,” Debbie muttered, punching the doorbell. “I wish she’d move away. Or grow a big fat wart on her nose.”
Mrs. Parker opened the door and Debbie gulped. Had she heard her? Debbie decided probably not when the woman smiled and motioned for her to step in. “Lauren’s in the kitchen. Go on back. And help yourself to some cookies if you like.”
Debbie walked into the large kitchen that was spotless, except for the plate of cookies on the counter. Lauren closed her cell phone and smiled at Debbie.
“Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” Debbie grabbed a cookie and settled on a barstool at the counter. “Who was that?”
“Angie. We’re going to the school in a little while and watch the team practice.”
Debbie’s heart sank. “But I thought we were going to do something this afternoon.”
“You can come if you want.” Lauren poured them each a glass of milk. “We might even get a chance to talk to Brad.”
That possibility created a shiver of anticipation in Debbie. New this year, he was the talk of the school, cute, nice, and a smile that could melt the Arctic. All the girls were dying to see who he was going to ask out first, and Debbie harbored a hope that she could surprise them all. But with Angie hanging around, he wouldn’t even notice her. She wasn’t exactly a standout when it came to looks, especially next to Angie. The girl had incredible long blonde hair, a body that was lithe and graceful, and eyes that were almost golden. Who could compete with that kind of perfection?
Debbie heard another one of her mother’s litanies playing in her mind. About how she should see the positives in how she looked. The red highlights in her short, curly brown hair made it look shiny and healthy. And her green eyes sparkled like emeralds. But who wanted to sparkle and shine when they could look sultry and provocative?
Even Lauren had an advantage with her mane of wavy red hair that was natural on both counts. And she was now a good two inches taller than Debbie.
Watching her friend put the carton on milk back in the refrigerator, Debbie realized that Lauren’s recent growth spurt had reshaped her into something closer to a woman than an adolescent. Was that ever going to happen to her? Or was she destined to be trapped forever in a body thicker around the middle than the chest?
A blur of motion interrupted her thoughts as Lauren’s brother, Scott, and two other boys raced into the kitchen. They made a beeline for the plate of cookies.
“Get out of here,” Lauren yelled. “And take your crappy friends with you.”
“Don’t have to. This is a free country and I can go anywhere I want. So there.”
Debbie welcomed the intrusion. It saved her the embarrassment of telling Lauren the real reason she didn’t want to go to the practice field with her and Angie. “That’s all right,” she said. “I’ve got to go anyway. Mom has some jobs for me to do at home.”
“All you ever do is work. What does your mother think you are, the maid?”
“Yeah. Sometimes I wonder.”
Debbie waited for a moment, hoping Lauren would put up more of a fuss about her having to go. Or maybe say she’d back out of her plans with Angie, but her friend merely shrugged. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lauren said.
“Or I could call you later.”
“Sure.”
Debbie walked slowly across the street. Why did that Angie have to be so popular? And so rich? And why did Lauren have to be so impressed? Lately all she heard from her friend was, “Have you seen Angie’s new jacket? Her mom let her spend two hundred dollars on clothes. She got a brand new outfit for cheerleading tryouts. Course she’s a cinch to make it. After all those years of dance lessons, and looking like she does, who wouldn’t get picked?”
It was like Lauren had formed a one-girl Angie Cooper fan club.
Well, she can just have her Angie Cooper. She’ll learn soon enough. Angie’s the meanest, most two-faced girl in the entire seventh grade. And one of these days Lauren will be sorry.
Debbie wished she could believe that, but deep inside fear that she was losing her friend forever gnawed at her. “Damn,” Debbie grumbled. “Damn! Damn! Damn!”
Her mother would kill her if she ever heard her saying that, but it sure felt good. Much better than kicking the curb and having her toes ache for a week.
What was so hot about being rich, anyway? From what she heard, Angie’s father hardly ever was at home. He worked late or was away on business trips. And Angie’s mother? Rumor had it that Angie never invited anyone to her house because her mother was always yelling at her. That wasn’t much of a life, and if Angie weren’t such snot, Debbie would almost feel sorry for her.
“That was a quick visit,” Debbie’s mother said as Debbie walked into the kitchen. “I thought you and Lauren had big plans for this afternoon.”
“We did until that crappy Angie Cooper called and ruined it all.”
“That’s no way to talk about one of your friends.”
“She’s no friend of mine.” Debbie got a glass out of a cabinet and slammed the door. “And if she doesn’t leave Lauren alone, I’m going to punch her in the mouth.”
“Now, Honey, you don’t really want to—”
“Yes I do. Lauren and I were just fine until she came along.”
“I’m sure things will get better. Lauren will realize that your friendship is more important than anything else. In the meantime, maybe you can find some other girl at school to pal around with.”
“Mom? Don’t you get it? Lauren’s my best friend.” Debbie cried. “Best friends don’t stop being best friends just like that.”
She tried to hold them back, but the tears came, burning her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. She made an ineffective swipe at them, then dashed out of the room.
Once in the sanctuary of her room, Debbie threw herself on the bed. She pounded the pillow, wishing she could pummel Angie. Or maybe Lauren. Or maybe her mother for not understanding. Why couldn’t she see how terrible this was?
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