When Audrey Met Alice by Rebecca Behrens Page A

scholarships would be available for students in need of financial assistance to attend. Friends Academy did have a few students in each grade enrolled through merit scholarships, and to the school’s credit, every effort is made to allow them to have the same experience at school as their privileged counterparts.
    When the assembly wrapped up, everyone spilled out of the hall into the commons, splintering into cliques to collectively freak out about how cool the trip was this year. A few of Quint’s friends wandered over, and pretty soon all of the eighth-graders crowded together, talking about the trip. Madeline sauntered over to where Quint and I stood. She and Quint had band in common—Madeline played clarinet. I cursed myself for never picking up an instrument. Ignoring me, Madeline asked him, “Do you think we’ll get to go to Carnegie Hall? Or hear the Philharmonic?”
    “That would be so cool. I wanna go check the concert schedule…” Quint trailed off. Madeline and some other band members closed in a circle around him, and I stood off to the outside. I slouched there, imagining what traipsing around New York with Quint would be like. I could picture us strolling through Central Park together, or maybe taking one of those rowboats for a spin. I imagined us sharing an armrest as we watched ballet at Lincoln Center. I saw us taking pictures of each other with the Statue of Liberty or Times Square in the background. Then I looked back at him talking to Madeline and reimagined all those scenes with Madeline replacing me. And I wanted to puke. I have to go on the New York trip. Seriously. I started to brainstorm reasons why I should go, making a list of talking points for my mom. What did Alice call her little trip to christen the yacht in New York? A boon to the presidency? I could tell my mom that me going to New York would help her too. I just wasn’t sure how, other than promising to be well-behaved.
    When I got home from school, I made a beeline for my mom’s office. “Denise, I need to talk to my mom,” I begged. Denise was the gatekeeper to my mom’s office—even when it was me trying to get in.
    “Your mother is preparing for an important call,” Denise answered, barely looking up from a handful of memos.
    “This is an emergency!” I am the Girl Who Cried Emergency, but only out of necessity. That’s the only way to get through Denise.
    Denise sighed. “Okay, you can go in for a minute.” She pressed the intercom on the secretary’s desk. “Madam President, your daughter would like a word.”
    I burst in and ran up to my mother’s desk. “Mom, I have to go to New York.”
    “Huh? Right now?” My mom pulled off her reading glasses, confused.
    “No, this spring. The school trip. They announced it today. We’ll get an info packet soon.” I bit my lip. “Please just say I can go. I think it would be a good publicity thing for you. If I…” I thought for a second. “Went to the Statue of Liberty! Ellis Island! Think of the photo ops. It could make up for Bikinigate.”
    “Honey,” my mother started. “Obviously I’ll look at the information. But the concerns that kept you from going to Chicago last spring haven’t gone away.” She frowned sympathetically. “I have to be honest—it’s very unlikely. Your dad and I simply aren’t comfortable with you going on a school trip, even with your security. But we could plan a trip for you and I to take together. I have some fund-raisers to do—”
    “You don’t understand!” My voice cracked. “It’s not the place. It’s getting to go with everyone from school.” Visions of Quint and Madeline and everyone else having a ball, without me, danced through my head. I wanted a chance to be a normal kid on a school trip so badly. Those kinds of trips are when everybody bonds and inside jokes are born. I needed to be a part of that. “I have to go. Please,” I pleaded.
    “I do understand. But we’re all making sacrifices here,