Mission (Un)Popular by Anna Humphrey Page B

wasn’t easy, considering I was carrying four textbooks. (I had a long night of paper bag book-covering ahead of me.)
    â€œMargot!” Grandma Betty exclaimed when I walked in the door. “How was your first day?”
    I didn’t have to say anything. She could tell by the look on my face. “Oh, I know, sweetheart.” She gripped my shoulders. “You must have been missing Erika. I’m sorry. The world can be a difficult place sometimes.” She flashed me a brave smile. “But we persevere.” I nodded, feeling like a wimp.
    When my grandpa died three years ago, Grandma Betty said the same thing to everyone as she accepted their hugs with a determined smile. “We persevere.” I never even saw her cry. On the day of the funeral she had her hair pulled back into her usual neat French twist, then she put on her pearls and her bravest face. Meanwhile, I was sobbing my eyes out, and she was the one comforting me—and everyone else.
    Grandma Betty took a step back so she could look at me properly. “I know.” She clapped her hands together once. “Your mother’s next client—the one with the lips—will be here in a few minutes.” She was talking about Sheila Wheeler, this woman who wears black lipstick and needs an emergency reading every time she gets a new match on Lavalife. “The girls are watching The Little Mermaid .” I could hear Sebastian the crab singing in the next room. “I’ll make you all a snack. You go call Erika to see how her first day went.”
    â€œThanks, Grandma,” I said. “I’ll only be ten minutes. I know you’re supposed to leave at 3:45.”
    â€œTake your time,” she said, opening the fridge door and giving me a conspiring look over her shoulder. “I think I’d better just stay until Bryan gets home so you can keep an eye on me. Maybe you’ll get some of your homework done while you’re at it.”
    The phone rang twice before Erika’s mom picked up. “Hi, Mrs. Davies,” I said, trying to sound extra polite so I’d seem like a good influence. “It’s Margot. Is Erika there?” I already knew exactly how I was going to start the conversation…by saying how I almost died at school without her, but that at least I had a bit of good news…and that it just might be about Gorgeous George.…
    â€œOh, Margot.” Mrs. Davies sounded distracted. “She’s not home yet. She’s out with a friend from school. I’ll let her know you called.”
    â€œOh,” I said, at a loss for any other words. “Thanks.” I set the phone back in the charger, feeling numb. All day long I’d been taking mental notes about everything I was going to tell Erika. All day I’d been wondering how her day was going. After so many years of telling each other about every crush, consulting with each other before every haircut, venting about every disappointment or parent-related frustration…one day at a new school and she had a new friend? I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
    I dragged myself into the living room, where the triplets were watching the cartoon fish convincing the prince to “kiss the girl,” and sank down onto the couch.
    â€œMagoo?” Alice said softly, putting her little hand on my arm.
    â€œWhat, Alice?”
    â€œYou smells like butter hearts,” she whispered. I was pretty sure she meant the butter tarts Grandma made. The gooey ones with raisins. And it was the nicest thing anyone had said to me all day.
    â€œYou smell like butter tarts too, Alice,” I said, wrapping my arms around her and rubbing my cheek against her soft hair.
    In the end, Grandma Betty stayed until 5:30. I sat at the kitchen table wrapping my textbooks in brown paper bags while she fed the triplets ravioli. It took me an hour and a half to do four books. (It’s no coincidence that every year,