The Skirt

Emma put her tray down at her usual table. Jilly and Min were already eating their lunches, laughing together over some joke. Emma had been best friends with Min since they rode the bus together in kindergarten. But lately Min had been acting weird.

The weirdness probably had to do with Jilly. When middle school started, super-popular Jilly had taken a liking to Min. Maybe because Min got gorgeous over the summer, shooting up 3 inches and growing out her shiny, black hair. Emma basically came as a package with Min, so Jilly tolerated her, but they never really clicked. Jilly had a mean streak that Emma didn’t like. Now it seemed as if Min was following Jilly’s lead and becoming mean too.

Today their heads were bent over their salads as they whispered together. When Emma sat down, she could hear that they were talking about the new girl. Rosalind had just started at school on Monday and already she was kind of an outcast.

“I mean, what is she wearing?” asked Jilly.

“I know,” agreed Min. “And she brought a tuna fish sandwich for lunch. So gross.”

“I kind of like her skirt,” said Emma.

“You would,” said Jilly. Min was quiet. She didn’t like it when Jilly was rude to Emma. She wanted them to get along. Things were easier that way.

“It looks like she made it herself,” continued Emma. “That’s pretty cool. It takes talent to sew.”

Jilly rolled her eyes. She looked at Min. “Would you wear a homemade skirt, Min?” she asked.

Min smiled uneasily. “Only if I didn’t have enough money to buy one, I guess,” she said quietly.

Emma looked at Min. She looked at Jilly. Middle school was weird. But she didn’t want to waste time with people who weren’t kind. She made her decision and stood up.

“Where are you going, Emma?” asked Min nervously.

“Who cares,” said Jilly under her breath. That was it. Emma was done.

“I’m going to go ask Rosalind how she made her skirt,” said Emma. “Maybe she can teach me. Do you want to come, Min?”

Min didn’t say anything. She looked down at her tray and poked at her salad with her fork. Emma walked away and put her lunch tray down at a new table. “Hi Rosalind,” she said. “I love your skirt.”