When You Reach Me

Things You Pretend

The Monday after Thanksgiving we were stuck in the school cafeteria for lunch. The naked guy was back, running down Broadway, and they wouldn’t let any kids out of the building.

“Kind of cold out to be running around in your birthday suit!” Colin called over to us on his way to a table of boys. Annemarie giggled. I could see Sal over there. He’d glanced toward us once, but acted like he didn’t see me.

I watched the boys for a few seconds, all of them trying to talk louder than the other ones. Sal was doing it, too—every once in a while I could hear his voice on top, and it reminded me of this game we used to play on the crosstown bus on our way to the city pool. Sal would be holding on to the silver bus pole, and I would grab the pole right above his hand. Then he’d move his hand so it was right above mine, and I’d put mine on top of his, until we were on our tiptoes, holding on to the pole near the very top, and usually some grown-up would say to stop fooling around, couldn’t we see the bus was crowded and one of us was going to fall and knock somebody over.

Annemarie picked at her food. The worst part of being stuck inside for lunch was that we had to get school lunch, which was gross.

“I wonder if Jimmy will count the bread order himself,” I said. “I bet he won’t. I think he just likes to make me do it.”

She nodded. “To give you something to do.”

“Gee, thanks.” I threw my milk straw at her.

“Hey! I didn’t mean—”

“Sure you didn’t!”

Then her smile faded. She was still looking at me, but something had changed, like a switch had been flicked inside her. Like she was still there but was doing something else in her head.

“Annemarie?”

“Don’t.” Julia was standing behind me with a carton of milk in her hand. Before I could say anything, she slid onto the bench next to me, still looking right at Annemarie. “She’ll be fine in a minute.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Just wait.” Julia hadn’t even glanced at me. Her eyes never left Annemarie’s face.

Annemarie moved her head a little. She put her arm down on the table, blinked, and said, “What?” as if she had maybe missed something I’d just said.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Julia hit my knee with hers under the table. “Don’t ask her questions,” she hissed.

Annemarie noticed her just then. “Hi, Julia,” she said, and a smile came over her face.

Julia smiled back. “Hi.” Then she turned to me. “So, Miranda, how’s the playground going? For Main Street, I mean.”

She wanted to talk about Main Street? Now?

Her eyes held mine. “I heard your proposal was approved. Congratulations.”

Congratulations? “Uh, thanks.”

“Will there be swings? How are you going to make them?”

It was dawning on me that Julia was showing me something, teaching me how to help Annemarie.

“Paper clips,” I told Julia. “I’m using paper clips to make the chains for the swings, and I’m going to cut pieces of rubber tire for the seats.”

Julia was nodding. “That sounds great,” she said. I could almost imagine us being friends, having this conversation for real.

“What else?” she asked.

“What?”

She looked annoyed. I wasn’t catching on fast enough. “For the playground. What else?”

“Oh—well, seesaws. Definitely seesaws.”

Then Annemarie spoke. “You know, balsa wood would be perfect for the seesaws—it’s really easy to cut. I think my dad might even have some.”

“Really?” I said. “That would be great. We could paint them orange, just like the ones in Riverside Park.”

“Yes!” Annemarie said. “We can start them at my house—maybe even today if you want.” She looked at Julia. “Want to come? And start Miranda’s seesaws?”

Before Julia could answer, I said “There’s no rush. I just got the plans approved. We can start next week. Anyway, Annemarie, you were coming to my house today, remember?”

I felt Julia pulling away. “See you guys,” she said, and stood up.

“Bye!” I said.

Annemarie looked up at her. “Bye, Julia.”

A few minutes later, the PA system crackled to life and Annemarie was called to the nurse’s office.

Annemarie shrugged, smiled, and walked away, saying, “See you in a minute.”

But she didn’t come back.