Evelyn is teased for trying to join the Boys’ Chess Club Meet Evelyn Thompson. In kindergarten, she tore down the micro-soccer field in a dress and Mary Janes. By first grade, she could play Bach on the piano as smoothly as a river. During second grade, she smoked all the kids in her class playing checkers, and as she started sixth grade, she joined chess club. Evelyn walked confidently through the door of the Colorado Boys’ Chess Club. She didn’t mind the looks the nearby boys flashed at her. If it mattered to them that a girl was walking through the door, that was their problem, not hers. Once the boys saw her performance, they would forget about the dividing line that existed between genders. Evelyn soon found out she was in real-life checkmate. When she introduced herself, Logan, a tall boy with untidy, dull-blond hair shouted, “Evelyn—what type of pretty-girl name is that?” The other boys burst into laughter. Evelyn sat awkwardly and tried to laugh, but only a grunt escaped. These boys had a different sense of humor, a kind that stung your heart. Before the chess games began, Liam whispered to Evelyn, “Good luck, powerless pawn.” He then turned toward the boys and said, “Who’s going to teach Evelyn a lesson?” Logan, the team captain, stepped forward. “I will.” He mocked Evelyn by flipping his tiny strands of hair. She ignored him and made her first move: knight to c3. Logan moved his pawn to h4. The game went on and on, each grainy, wooden chess piece progressing slowly across the black-and-white board. Finally, Evelyn called out “checkmate,” certain she had proved her right to play in the chess club. Mason raced over to her. “You’re a cheater, Evelyn. Logan has never lost a game.” “Neither have I,” Evelyn replied nonchalantly. “She’s a cheater. I saw her,” Logan declared. * * * Later that day, Evelyn collapsed on her bed. No one had the right to accuse her of something she didn’t do. Chess was about strategy, and she had simply outplayed Logan. Evelyn did not want to go back to the club—she was treated like a mouse, and the boys were hungry cats. But, if she left this club now, these boys would know they could scare off other girls in the future. Evelyn wanted to change their minds. But how? Her eyes filled with tears, upset at the situation, and even more that these boys could make her feel this way. * * * When the time rolled around to go back to chess club, Evelyn skipped it. That afternoon, she headed out, her dog, Kaia, several steps ahead. They were walking to the park to play fetch and then to drop off a weekly meal— lasagna—for Mrs. Gates. As Evelyn was about to throw Kaia’s ball, she spotted that head of untidy, dull-blond hair. Uh-oh. Logan. Evelyn dropped the ball she was holding and pulled Kaia in the other direction, but it was too late. Kaia was already barking at Logan’s Labrador. Logan looked up and recognized Evelyn immediately. What bad luck. Logan waved—a surprising gesture given what he’d done to her in chess club. He started walking toward Evelyn, his Labrador now headed for Kaia, Kaia headed for his Labrador. Big mess. Dogs barking. Should Evelyn run? No. She wasn’t going to be intimidated. Should Evelyn run? No. She wasn’t going to be intimidated. “Hey,” Logan said. “Why weren’t you at chess club today?” The answer was so obvious—why didn’t he understand? “Why would I go to chess club and tolerate your awful behavior? I didn’t cheat, which you already know!” Evelyn shouted. “Uh . . .” Logan stammered. “Why did you treat me that way?” Evelyn snapped. “Look, I used to be a loner. No one liked me, so I started acting like the others. I don’t know how the boys would react if I stopped teasing you; they might kick me out of the club. I have to be like them,” Logan said. Evelyn looked Logan up and down. He seemed truthful. She was quiet for a moment before speaking. “It sounds like we’re both unhappy in chess club. But you can’t treat me like that, not even if all the other boys in that room will hate you.” She then tried a different move. “Maybe we can team up.” Logan’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re crazy. How can we do that?” “We just have to think about this as a chess problem.” The two began to brainstorm. Evelyn was certain they would find a solution. On the way home, Evelyn was hopeful and even excited. She was so focused on chess club that she forgot to drop off the lasagna dinner—and received a phone call from a very unhappy Mrs. Gates. * * * It was time for chess club again, and Evelyn’s stomach was twisting harder than ever before. She looked at Logan. He looked at her and nodded. Her throat clenched. But then she imagined a new sign hanging above the chess club’s door that read: Colorado Boys’ and Girls’ Chess Club. Evelyn started: “I’m here to do the same thing as you, play chess. We all deserve to be on this team, but it doesn’t feel like a team . . .” “It isn’t a team, powerless pawn,” Liam interrupted. “We’re the kings, and we rule.” He cracked up, and Hugo high-fived him. Evelyn was about to continue when Logan jumped in. “What’s the problem with having Evelyn in our club?” “She belongs on a girls’ chess team; we don’t need her help,” Ben said. “Chess isn’t won just by a king or a queen. You have to use all of your pieces. Don’t we want to be the best team possible?” Evelyn shot back. Logan stepped to Evelyn’s side. Mason glared at
Friendship
It Will Never Be the Same
Left alone after her best friend moves away, the narrator struggles with loneliness Just a day ago, I saw my best friend, Yaëlle. But as my eager eight-year-old eyes scanned the crowded recess yard, there was no sign of her. My heart dropped as I remembered she had moved to her hometown in Switzerland. I slouched, and my eyes stared at the dirty asphalt so the kids around me couldn’t see my tears. I sulked over to the fence and tried to get comfortable, but the unforgiving, gritty cement lining the edges of the yard seemed to want to make me as uncomfortable as possible. Why did she have to move? I put my head on my knees and squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to block out the chatter of kids as I rocked back and forth. All my closest friends had moved away already. One to Japan last year, and now one to Switzerland this year. Who would I play with now? Could anything replace my friendship with her? My world became a blur and my stomach knotted itself. But deep down, I knew what I really wanted to know was this: Would I ever see her again? I replayed the sound of her voice in my head, not wanting to forget the chipper, upbeat sound I had heard so many times. Our conversations flashed through my head, and I smiled when I thought about the time Yaëlle tried to make me laugh while I had to keep a straight face. * * * “Bloop, bloop, bloop,” Yaëlle said, making a fish face. “I’m inflating like Marge in Harry Potter!” she continued in her ridiculous imitation of a British accent. She used her hands to pretend she was getting bigger. I held back a laugh, and, not wanting to lose the game, I took a deep breath, trying to remain serious. Yaëlle stood on her bed and bounced up and down, her wavy brown hair flying all over the place. She looked more like a monkey than Marge. She jumped off the bed, and when she started falling down, she screamed, “Uh oh! I guess Marge can’t fly after all!” She landed with a thump on the carpet, dramatically collapsing. We both burst out laughing, rolling across the floor. I turned red from smiling so much, and my stomach hurt from laughing so hard. “That was good,” I said breathlessly. “No, it was brilliant!” “Well, that’s what I meant.” “Duh! It was the best thing ever!” She raced over to her desk and picked up pieces of cut-up paper. She threw them in the air over my head and screamed, “Yes!” “You seriously made confetti?” I asked in disbelief, shaking off the colorful paper stuck in my hair. “Why wouldn’t I?” “I really don’t know.” “Anyway . . . I did it! I did it!” She did her ridiculous victory jig, and I doubled over in laughter again. I couldn’t have felt happier that day. * * * Unexpectedly, a dodgeball hit the fence, sending a tremor through it, which made me lose my train of thought. I whirled around wildly, startled by the sudden movement. After I realized it was nothing, I leaned against the fence again. I watched as fellow students dashed across the massive yard, and I longed to be doing the same with Yaëlle. In second grade, we had chased each other around the yard every day and giggled in delight as we ran. We would exchange hugs before skipping to our separate classes, and I would leave recess feeling elated. She told jokes and riddles everywhere we went and was a joy to be around. When a pair of bright blue sneakers stopped before me, I looked up hesitantly. June, one of the fifth graders and the most popular kid at school, looked down at me, hands on her hips. My muscles tensed as I tried to decipher her expression. Pursed lips, disapproving eyes. This couldn’t possibly be good. What does she want from me? June had never wanted anything to do with me before—why would she now? “What are you doing?” she asked sourly. “Nothing,” I replied quickly. June scrunched up her face. “Oh, right. You’re that girl’s friend. What was her name again? Yall?” My heart pounded against my chest. “Yaëlle,” I whispered. If Yaëlle had been there, we would have laughed about her wrinkled expression. How she looked like a shriveled-up raisin when she did that. But I just stared at the ground to avoid her gaze. “Yeah, whatever her name was. Why don’t you go play with your other friend?” That time, I didn’t respond. “Right, she moved away too. I remember now. Well, that’s too bad for you.” She smirked and skipped away, joining her group of friends. I watched them burst out in laughter, and my heart sank like an anchor in a sea. Right down to the very bottom. That day at lunch I sat alone, staring at the other kids, longing for a friend. Kids strutted past me, seeming not to acknowledge my place in the world. If Yaëlle had been there, she would have comforted me by putting a reassuring hand on my back, her soothing voice guiding me through my problem. As soon as I felt better, she would be back to cracking her jokes, and it would be as if my problem never happened. Unfortunately, the only person who saw me was the patrol lady, who gave me a strange look. She approached me, and I suddenly wanted to shrink into the shadows and remain there forever. “Are you okay?” she whispered, trying to act concerned by knitting her eyebrows together. Her eyes looked tired, and I realized I was just another kid out of all the kids she had to tend to. She didn’t actually care. I wanted to throw up at her attempt,
The Hello Kitty Shirt
After years of trying, Kiera is finally popular . . . so why isn’t she happy? From afar, Kiera fit in perfectly at MS 452. Watching her pick at her peanut butter and jelly sandwich while fanning herself with her homework folder on this late September day, an unsuspecting onlooker might give her a glance and deem her an average seventh grader, not particularly interesting and far too obsessed with clothes, hair, and makeup. This onlooker, seeing her talking naturally with the group of girls surrounding her, would suspect that this was simply an ordinary day for Kiera, that she had known these girls for years. In assuming this, the onlooker would be entirely wrong. While it didn’t show, this may have been the most important moment Kiera had experienced in the 11 years that she had been alive. Ever since her family’s SUV had finally pulled up in front of her new house in Brooklyn after the drive from New Jersey early that summer, Kiera had waited for this moment. Finally, after nearly a month of relentless effort, she had been accepted by the popular kids at their lunch table, and therefore into their group of friends. If she were to embarrass herself in front of these people, this new friendship she had formed would crumble in front of her eyes—something that she wouldn’t let happen, no matter what. Every day of being thought of as the quiet one, the friendless one, the lonely one who sat with a book in the corner of the playground during recess, vanished from Kiera’s mind. Now she was speeding down the road to what she had only dreamed of in years before: popularity. “Oh my gosh. Eric is so weird. Like, he literally wears the same pair of sweatpants every day. How gross is that?” Mia’s voice rang through the bustling lunch room, somehow managing to be louder and more significant than any of the other voices in the crowded cafeteria. Sitting across from Mia in the center of the table, Kiera tried to time her giggle with the rest of the group. Together, they sounded like a bottle of soda fizzing, or perhaps a pack of joyful hyenas ready to pounce on their prey. Other people from different tables cast the group of girls annoyed glances, but this was not apparent to Kiera. Even Eric’s upset face didn’t matter. She was absorbed in her own circle of friends, who were so perfect and so beautiful and so amazing, and, more importantly, so existent. In this way particularly, they were different from her friends from when she lived in New Jersey. “What happened to our little Hello Kitty?” Life went on for Kiera. She became closer with the girls, and by mid-October, she had mustered up the courage to invite them to her house for dinner one night. That Thursday, a few hours before the group was due to arrive, Kiera did some last minute, very necessary work. She pulled her parents out of their room, sat them down across from her on the couch, and stared at them intensely. “You are not the world’s most embarrassing parents,” Kiera started. “Well, yes, when we gave up our model Santa collection, I think that we stepped down to the world’s second most embarrassing parents,” Kiera’s mom said with a grin. Rolling her eyes, Kiera continued. “But, as I was trying to say, you certainly aren’t cool or anything. So please, please, stay out of my business when the girls come over. It means the world to me.” Kiera’s parents nodded, but as she stood up to tidy her room, she heard one of them mumble quietly, “What happened to our little Hello Kitty?” The girls came, gossiped, ate, and then left without Kiera’s parents saying anything more than “Yes, this is vegetarian.” Ella had just gotten her ears pierced, and all she could talk about was how beautiful they were, and how it hadn’t hurt a bit when she got them. Kiera found herself thinking about how boring the conversation had become, and how she really didn’t care about the brand new holes in Ella’s ears. Alarmed, she pushed the thought out of her mind and leaned in closer to hear about all the different options for earrings that Ella had had to choose from. The next day in school, Ms. Perez, everyone’s least favorite teacher, decided to switch the current Science tables. Harper and Kiera exchanged annoyed glances, as they had only recently been seated next to each other. Many students groaned bitterly for the same reason. Ms. Perez, they thought, must be made of nothing but pure evil. Harper, Mia, and Ash were seated at the same table, and Kiera heard Harper squeal “Yes!” in her highpitched voice. Kiera looked down sullenly. Hadn’t Harper just been moaning about being moved away from her? As she grumbled, Kiera felt a sudden movement to her left. She jerked her head up as a tiny girl hopped onto the chair next to her, and promptly rested her feet on the shiny plastic table as if she were sitting in her living room at home. Looking around to see if anyone else had noticed, Kiera found a giggle bubbling in the back of her throat. The girl, who Kiera remembered being called Claudia, looked at her warily, one eyebrow arched to the extent that it seemed as if it might come off of her face entirely. “What are you looking at?” she smirked, the accusation clearly fake. Kiera clamped her lips shut to hold in her laughter, but she was unable to control herself. As her mouth was shut, a rambunctious snort burst out of Kiera’s nose. Claudia grinned at the peculiar noise, and Kiera grinned back. They were silent for a moment, pursing their lips to keep from laughing as they stared at each other. Then, all of a sudden, they erupted in laughter. It wasn’t as if anything was particularly hilarious, yet
