The Cookie-Comment

We were a trio. Zoey, Elle, and me. (Really there were four of us but Lucille doesn't count because we all thought she was annoying and in need of a nail trim.) When we all moved a grade up, Zoey and Elle stayed together, and I got put in a completely different class all by my friggin' lonesome. (With the exception of Lucille, who had continued to neglect her nails all summer.) Not only that, but Zoey and Elle had made a new friend in their new class. Her name...was ERIN.

To assure me that I had not been replaced, and that we would all get along, and that everything would still be peaches and cream, we decided to have a sleepover. (It wasn't until afterwards that I found out it was ERIN'S idea.) Lucille somehow got invited as she always did. (Maybe that was why she followed us around and thought she was part of our group. Because we always invited her to our sleepovers. Why did we do that?) We all talked about it and we all made party plans and we all got really excited and Lucille stayed annoying throughout all this and didn't really contribute much at all besides giving us the benefit of exercise because we kept walking away from her, and I REALLY don't know WHY we EVER invited her to our sleepovers in the FIRST place. Why did we do that?

It started out like any other sleepover. Countless caffeinated beverages (no diet drinks. we were 11 and could drink whatever the hell we wanted), bowls and bowls and GIANT bowls of candy (including chocolate. we were 11 and could eat whatever the hell we wanted), homemade cookies Elle's dad had made (chocolate chip. still warm), and a boombox. (that's right, kiddies. back in MY day we didn't have iPods and iPhones and iWhateverTheyThinkUpNext. hell, we didn't even have the letter i.) We giggled for about an hour and as soon as there were signs of Winding Down, I asked everyone if they'd like to see my new dance.

"Yeah! Yeah! Show us and then maybe you can teach us it!"

"Okay. It's to 'He Loves U Not' by Dream."

So I put it the CD and turn my back to the audience. (Good dance numbers always start with your back to the audience.) The music comes on, and the beats are all off. Then I realize...this isn't He Loves U Not...this isn't even Dream!

"Sorry. I hate Dream."

Only a freak could hate Dream.

"But you see, ERIN, my dance moves are in sync with the beats to He Loves U Not. I can't do it to any other song."

"Yeah you can. You can dance to anything as long as it's music. I put it Blink-182."

"But that's not even dancing music, ERIN. It will only be 3 minutes. I'll just do my dance and then you can put in your music."

"Quit freaking out. Just do your dance and get it over with."

I never ended up doing my dance. Instead I went into the bathroom and called my dad crying asking him to come get me and take me home. He told me I was overreacting. Okay, so I was overreacting. But I had this instinct that from that point on, things were only going to get worse. And you should never ignore your instincts.

"SHUT UP!"

"NO YOU SHUT UP!"

"YOU WON'T LET ME TALK!"

"BECAUSE ALL YOU'RE SAYING IS 'SHUT UP!' "

"NO I'M NOT, SHUT UP!"

I understand that yelling isn't the best option, but neither is grabbing the other person's head and yanking them backwards into a half-headlock, half-strangling, half-I'M INSANE hold, like ERIN did to me while I was yelling.

"GET OFF!"

"YOU WERE SCREAMING!"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"SHUT UP!"

"NO YOU SHUT UP!"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!"

Usually this works.

"HOW ABOUT YOU SHUT UP?!"

Not this time.

So after a bout of screaming, a broken necklace (the beaded kind. worst kind to break.), and more screaming, ERIN has the brilliant idea to have a "Share Circle."

"ERIN! What a good idea! Guys, listen to ERIN!"

"Yeah, ERIN says we should have a Share Circle!"

"Oooo ERIN! What do we do in a Share Circle?"

"You see, Zoey, we all sit in a circle and share one thing we like about all the other people in the circle."

This coming from the chick who put me in a headlock 2 minutes before.

"We'll all say one thing we like about Elle first. Natasha?"

"Your dad makes good cookies."

Okay, so I realize the Cookie-Comment was bitchy, and yeah, I thought she might cry. But I was mad and my neck was sore from that headlock 2 minutes before. And she did cry. But I didn't think she'd cry and friggin' RUN AWAY.

"Umm Mr. Pine?"

"Ahhh hello again girls! Come back for more cookies?"

Three immediate death glares all directed at me. At least I wasn't attacked from behind.

"Elle ran away."

"Yeah and we looked for her."

"But we couldn't find her."

"So we thought we'd come tell you."

"She was really upset."

Please don't say why, please don't say why, please don't say why.

"Natasha made her cry."

Okay so they didn't say WHY but I kinda meant don't mention my name at all. Do I really have to be that specific?

So Mr. Pine was kind enough to not join the herd of hyenas that were doing anything BUT laughing at me and instead took the car out to search for his daughter. He found her, brought her back, and didn't make more cookies. I wonder if she had told him. Instead we all went to her room.

"Elle, is this your diary?"

"Don't open that!"

But it was much too late.

"I am a buttcheek. I am a buttcheek. I am a buttcheek."

Pages and pages. And I was NOT the only one who started laughing.

"GIVE ME MY DIARY!"

Even ERIN was laughing.

"I AM NEVER INVITING ANY OF YOU GUYS OVER AGAIN!"

At least she wasn't gonna run away again.

"Yeah, no offense, Lucille, but you shouldn't have been invited in the first place."

Okay, so I was the bitch who said it. But did anyone get mad at me that time? NOPE. All I heard then was silence.

We all then decided it was best if we just went to bed. Of course by then it was already 7 am. So we all just lay on our backs silently. Our parents picked us up. We saw each other at school. And though we never spoke of that night, things never were the same again. (Except for Lucille's nails. They remained untrimmed.)