"So, Emily! Guess what!" Darla ran right over Beth, not even checking her rear-view mirror to see if she was still alive. I looked at Beth with surprise clearly evident in my green eyes. She was looking down at the floor, a hand on her hip as she lightly chuckled to herself. I didn't know what to do, or if I should.

"Uh, what?" I stammered. My blood began to burn as I felt an automatic need to protect Beth from Darla's harsh judgments, but lacked the courage to do anything.

Darla walked over to the breakfast bar in front of us, leaning down on the counter top with her elbows.

"Remember that guy? Scott Mathews?" I nodded as I opened the top of the c.o.ke she had set in front of me. "You know, the guy with the really cute b.u.t.t?" again I nodded. "Well, the other day me and Laura and Sandra and Mary were at the mall, and oh my G.o.d! There he was! He looked so cute in his shorts and shirt. Oh, I could have just died!" I could hear Beth groan next to me, just barely audible, but I picked up on it. I tapped her leg with the toe of my Ked under the bar when she plopped down on the stool next to mine. "Well, he walks over to us, and he has Spencer Milton, and Brett Kylor with him. So it was like, oh my G.o.d! The three most popular, rich guys in our school, right?" Nod. "Okay, so they walk up to us, and Scott says h.e.l.lo to me!" Darla screamed and clapped her hands. "Isn't that great?" I smiled, trying to show my support.

"That is so cool, Darla." I said happily. I ignored Beth as I felt her eyes on me.

"Don't you think that he is just like soooo cute?" she exclaimed, eyeing me expectantly, her dark blond brows raised to near her hairline in antic.i.p.ation.

"Um, oh yeah. Scott Mathews is so totally cute, Darla. You are so lucky."

"Em, you said you thought-" Beth began to say. I quickly turned to her and cut her off.

"Beth, do you want a drink of my c.o.ke?" she looked at me strangely.

"No." I gave her a look that told her to shut her mouth. She shook her head slightly, her eyes taking on a dull sheen, but said no more about it. Darla walked back over to the fridge, and began to pull out different kinds of meats and cheeses, throwing them on the counter behind her. Then she headed for a cabinet above the microwave, throwing boxes filled with different typed of crackers next to the meat and cheese, rambling the entire time about school, boys, hair, make-up, and clothes. Beth tossed her cap onto the bar in front of us, and ran her hands through dark hair. I could tell she was being pushed far beyond her limits, and the only reason she hadn't throttled Darla Newman was because of me. Finally with a sigh, she put her cap back on, and rested against her forearms on the bar, starting down at her fingers.

"Oh my G.o.d, you have got to see this!" Darla exclaimed as she turned back to us, nearly scaring the bejesus out of me. Her brown eyes were wide with excitement, and she hurried out of the room, half-made snacks forgotten on the counter.

She led the way toward the very s.p.a.cious family room . I had been in Darla's house before, but I watched Beth as she looked around, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide. I could tell she was trying to hide her reaction to all the beautiful things the Newmans had, but she wasn't doing a very good job of it.

The white carpet was thick, like walking on a cloud. The fifty inch t.v. was in an oak cabinet against the far wall. On either side were shelves lined with hundreds of different figurines, and strange knickknacks. Darla looked over her shoulder at Beth who had a strange expression on her face as she gazed at all the figures.

"Daddy is sent to other countries for his job, and so he always buys some stupid little statue for my mom. She collects them, or something. So I wouldn't become too attached to them if I were you." She looked at me, and winked. Then she broke out into a wide grin. "I'm just kidding.. Sit." she said pointing toward the comfortable looking couch that was covered with a pastel green pattern with bits of blue and gray mixed in. I did as I was told. Beth walked over to the Elizabethan wingback that was upholstered in gray with the same colors of green and blue of the couch. I looked at her with a question in my eyes. Why wouldn't she sit with me? Beth wouldn't look at me. I could tell she was angry at me for dragging her here, and was just biding her time before she could escape. I knew Darla had aimed that comment about the figurines at Beth, and I knew Beth was smart. She didn't miss a beat. But didn't she understand that Darla was shallow, and simple? Had to belittle others to feel better herself? Why couldn't Beth just fit in like everybody else? I wanted all my friends to get along.

"This is my father's newest toy. It's called a VCR. I don't know what that stands for, though." She grinned sheepishly.

"Video ca.s.sette recorder." Beth said dully as she looked at the international figurines again, her chin resting in her hand.

"Yeah! That's right." Darla exclaimed. "I'll have to remember that. Anyway, we got 'Ordinary People' with that really, really cute guy, Timothy Hutton. And my mom made me get that boring movie, 'Kramer vs. Kramer'. But it had Dustin Hoffman in it, and he's kinda cute."

"That's a great movie!" Beth exclaimed, sitting up a little more in her chair. "That has Meryl Streep in it. She is one of the greatest actresses to ever walk across the screen."

"Whatever." Darla said dryly. She took one of the videos out of its box, and slid it into the large, silver machine. The t.v. clicked on with a static filled whoosh, and the movie began.

Beth was transfixed by the images she saw on the screen of the television that was bigger than any her mom or my parents had ever owned. Darla sat on the couch next to me, and talked incessantly about boys, and hair, and clothes, and make-up, and jewelry, and Scott Mathews. On and on until I finally found myself on autopilot, nodding my head and saying "Uh huh" now and then, until finally she said something that caught my attention cold.

"So why do you hang out with her, Emily? She is a freak." My head snapped around from watching Dustin Hoffman fighting with his little boy over eating ice cream instead of dinner.

"What?"

"You heard me. Beth is a total freak, and will bring you down. You must know that?" I quickly turned to look at Beth to see if she had heard any of this. "Don't worry about her. She's so wrapped in that stupid movie that I doubt a tornado could bother her."

"Please don't talk about Beth that way, Darla. She is my best friend." I said weakly. I didn't know what to do. Beth was indeed my best friend, and I didn't want her to get hurt, but Darla was the only other friend I had around the neighborhood, and with Beth gone for the rest of the summer, I didn't want to be left alone.

"Emily, that is the problem! People talk about her at school all the time. And," she leaned in, almost conspiratorially, "They're starting to talk about you, too."

"Darla," I stopped as I turned toward Beth who had stood from her chair. She looked at us, her face expressionless, but her eyes were burning.

"Been a hoot, I better get going. Later." She walked toward the front door, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. She never looked at either of us.

"Beth!" I called out as I raced after her. I could feel my heart sink.

"Emily!" Darla called out after me. I ignored her. Beth was just about to descend the steps of the porch when I caught up to her.

"Wait, Beth please don't go." I said, breathless. She turned on me, she was furious. She took a step forward until her face was mere inches from mine.

"I am not going to stay here, Em. That little rich b.i.t.c.h may have you wrapped around her little finger, but I know her game. I've known conniving little debutantes all my life, and why you'd put yourself in the path of one on purpose is beyond me." She turned and began to walk again, her foot on the first step.

"I'm sorry, Beth." I threw my arms up into the air, at a loss of what to do anymore. Beth kept going. She hit the second step, her boot about to touch the path that would lead to the sidewalk and Beth's salvation. I watched her, feeling my anger build. "G.o.d, I feel like I am always saying that to you, saying that I am sorry!" She stopped and looked up at me, her face had resigned, her eyes sad.

"Maybe that's because you keep s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up." I stared, dumbstruck. "Em, I am used to people looking down on me, laughing at me. I have a mother who is a drunk and couldn't keep her husband. I am different. I'm not like all the other girls. And all that is fine. I don't care about them. But you, Em. You're my best friend. Aren't you supposed to stand up for me like I stand up for you?" she turned from me again only to turn back. "And one more thing, Em. I got news for you, no matter how much you try to be like the Darla Newman's of the world, you're different, too. Some day you just might realize that." I watched, paralyzed, as Beth walked to the end of the path, and out onto the sidewalk to head home. I turned back to Darla's house, staring up at its ma.s.sive structure, so torn. My eyes were drawn to the silhouette that was coming to the door.

"Why did she leave?" I stared at my friend, something in me telling me that she had been standing there the entire time, and knew exactly what was going on.

"Look, Darla. I'm not feeling too good. I'm gonna go home." She didn't say anything for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay. See you later." I heard the heavy front door slam shut as I headed for the path.

As I walked home I thought of what had just happened. When had Beth and I grown so far apart? It seemed to me on that hot summer night that one day we had met, been so much alike that my parents used to tease us and say that they could take home Beth one day, and no one would ever know it wasn't me. Then the next day I woke up, and we are two completely different people with two completely different goals in life, and ways. It wasn't fair.

I picked a ripe apple off of the Nivens' tree as I pa.s.sed it, taking a large bite of the sweet, ripe fruit. I glanced over at my house across the street, and decided to keep walking, not ready to go home yet.

I knew just on a gut level that once we started high school me and Beth would be no more. She would go her way, and I would go mine. All the same, Beth Sayers was a part of me; a part of my heart, and soul, and I hoped always would be. I thought about the future. What would it bring? Would I end up some big lawyer in some big city as I hoped I would? Where would Beth be? I plopped down on the curb in front of the McKinzey house, and at my apple as I thought of one time when we'd been about eleven or twelve. We had promised with a pinky swear that we would buy houses on the same block, maybe even next door, and always go over each other's place and have lunch, and watch movies together. I smiled ruefully as I chewed. That had sure gone out the window. Even at a few weeks away from fifteen, I knew that was no longer to be. Did I have to chose between Beth and my new life? My new friends? I know Beth had been hurt by Darla, and my non-action. She had every right to be. But did she have a right to place me in a situation where I had to chose? I didn't know. I stood from the curb, threw the apple core into the McKinzey trash barrel, and walked on.

Wal-Mart was busy as usual. Was this place ever empty? I pushed my buggy strategically around slow, and inconsiderate shoppers who felt the need to park their cart in the middle of the isle, and talk. I barely managed to miss being hit by an old woman who was staring down the isles she pa.s.sed instead of where she was going. Finally finding the HBA department, I ducked down an isle containing mouth wash and toothpaste. So many brands to chose from. I smiled as I thought about Beth. She had some of the most straight, white teeth I'd ever seen. She had been one of those lucky people who never had to see the inside of an orthodontists lair. Lucky kid. I found a small, travel-size bottle of Scope, and tossed it into my buggy. As I found the rest of our travel toiletries, I wondered if maybe I was giving my past too much thought. I remember my father once saying, let the past lie with the dead. I thought perhaps he was right when I saw two little girls who looked to be around eight or nine, walking arm in arm. One little girl had bright red hair, and sparkling green eyes. Her friend's black hair was woven into tight braids with brightly colored barrettes at the ends. Her chocolate complexion was bright with youth, her dark eyes laughing as they giggled together. I stood for a moment and watched them. The perfect combination; one dark, one light to balance each other. Beth and I were the same. My light side met her darker personality, and together we had been like yin and yang. One began where the other ended, creating the perfect circle.

I wondered around my house restlessly for four days, not sure what to do. I knew somehow that Beth did not want to see me, so I wasn't going to force yet another apology on her if she didn't want it. My mother kept glancing at me with an odd expression on her face. She wanted to ask, but something held her back. She gratefully accepted my extra help around the house, but finally the day before Beth was to leave for camp she placed her hand over mine, stopping me in the middle of folding a pair of socks. I looked into her concerned eyes.

"Honey, Beth is going to be leaving tomorrow, right?" I nodded. "Why don't you just go and talk to her?" I shrugged, once again amazed at how perceptive my mother could be.

"I can't." I said simply. She shook her head sadly, and continued to fold laundry. I knew deep down that I was wrong this time, and part of my resistance was my own courage, or lack of it. The plain and simple of it was, I didn't know what to say.

It was a hot night as June was half over. It was turning out to be a record-breaking summer with temperatures in the upper nineties to the one hundred mark every day. I was miserable.

My parents had bought Billy and I a huge trampoline a couple of summers ago, and I laid on it as I stared up at the stars. My parents were asleep. Usually Billy would have joined me, but he was gone. I missed him terribly. At the beginning of the month he had left for the Army, sent somewhere in the south for boot camp. I sighed heavily as I thought of beginning school come the fall. High school. The idea scared me, as well as excited me. I wanted to make my grades everything to me. I didn't care about anything else, as long as I could get a good scholarship, and go on to law school. Everything else was just fluff.

My thoughts turned to Beth, again. What would she do once she hit high school? She hated school. I figured she would probably pursue the theater. I smiled to myself as I thought back to the production of Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat' that had been put on as the summer musical last year. She had played Mrs. Potiphar, not a big part, but she had been wonderful. I had stared up at her on that stage with so much pride. She was so good at what she did. I honestly thought that theater had been the only thing that kept Beth here. She had nothing else, no connections- "What are you thinking about out here all by yourself?" I looked up to see Beth staring down at me. She wore cut off Jean shorts with a tank top, her hands buried in her hip pockets.

"School." I said quietly. She nodded and climbed up onto the black tramp with me.

"Yeah. I've been thinking a lot about that, too." She sighed as she plopped down on her back, the entire tarp bouncing us both slightly at the quick movement. It always reminded me of water. That must be what it was like to sleep on a ship, I mused.

"I was also thinking about that musical you did last summer." I could almost hear the smile spread across Beth's young face.

"Oh, yeah. 'Potiphar had very few cares, he was one of Egypt's millionaires," she began to sing. I joined her, "having made a fortune buying shares in, Pyramids.'" We broke into a healthy stream of laughter. It felt so good to laugh with her again. We didn't laugh as much as we used to.

"That was probably the best time of my life so far." She said wistfully. I turned to look at her profile. She still wore the smile, her eyes lost in memories.

"This summer theater camp is going to be really good for you, isn't it?" I asked. She looked at me, and nodded.

"Yeah, I think so. I can't wait I only feel complete when I'm on that stage, doing a play."

"Has your mother calmed down any?" Beth turned to look at the stars again.

"She'll get over it. She always does." She placed her hands on her stomach and began to beat out a simple rhythm that kept time with the tune in her head, probably something from 'Joseph...' "Do you remember that song 'Close Every Door' from the musical last year?" she asked, eyes glued to the stars.

"Yes. It's a beautiful song."

"You think? I always thought it was so sad. 'Close every door to me, take those I love, from me. Bar all the windows, and shut out the light...,'" I closed my eyes as I listened to Beth's smooth voice sing. "Do what you want with me, hate me, and laugh at me. Darken my day times, and torture my nights... for we know we shall find, our own piece of mind, for we have been promised a land of our own.'" She began to hum the song softly, her thoughts a million miles away, but suddenly she stopped. "I always felt that way, like that song was about me, you know? I could relate." She was quiet for a moment, then she looked over at me with a grin. "Have you ever noticed that the tarp on a tramp smells like the seats on the school bus?" she turned to me when I didn't answer, and found me staring at her like she was crazy. "You've never noticed that?" I shook my head. "Yeah, well you smart, uncreative types." She sat up and looked down at me. "I'm sorry about that whole thing at Darla's, Em. I know that you're just kind of stuck in the middle."

"It's okay, Beth. You don't have to apologize. It's not your fault. It's mine. Darla isn't a real friend, I realize that." I said softly.

"So why are you friends with her?"

"Someone to hang around with, I don't know."

"With friends like that," Beth smiled. I smiled back. "I better go. I'm leaving in the morning, and didn't want to leave mad, or you mad at me. This has been a tough few days." She scooted to the side and lowered herself to the ground. I stared at her back in awe. How can she be so forgiving? Beth had the biggest heart of anyone. What would I do without her? She turned to look at me.

"What?" I asked, confused at her expectant expression.

"Don't I rate a hug?" I grinned, and jumped down from the tramp and into her arms. We stood in each other's embrace for nearly five minutes, neither wanting to be anywhere else in the whole world. "I'm going to miss you." she whispered in my ear. A shiver ran down the length of my body.

"I'll miss you, too."

"You'll write, right?" Beth asked when finally we parted. I nodded, knowing speaking at that moment would be a mistake. I swallowed my rising emotion down.

"Sure. But you have to write back, Beth Sayers!" I admonished. She grinned shyly.

"I will. I promise. Maybe I can call you on your birthday." she said, her voice hopeful.

"You better." I said, trying again with every ounce of self-control in me to not cry. Beth smiled as if she could see my inner turmoil. She ran a quick hand through my hair and began to turn away.

"See ya." I watched her walk over to the fence that separated our two yards. She climbed up on top of the trashcan there, and with a mighty heave, pulled herself up to balance for a moment on top of the wooden fence. She looked at me over her shoulder again and smiled, then jumped down to the other side.

I grabbed the few pieces of mail I took from the box between my teeth, and fumbled with one hand to get the right key into the lock, my other hand and arm boggled down with blue plastic bags filled with our stuff to go. The door opened after my third attempt, and I hurried inside to drop my load before my arm came off. Dumping everything on the kitchen table, I headed out to the car for the rest.

With a sigh I dropped my keys on the table amidst the ma.s.s of bags, and hung my purse on the doork.n.o.b of the pantry.

"Hey, lover boy." I crooned when I felt Simon's tail weaving it's way between my calves, leaving a black trail of fur on my jeans. "Well, looks like we're going to have to make mommy brush you tonight, huh little man?" I gushed, rubbing the top of his head, and down between his eyes, his eyes tightly shut, loud purring filling the quiet kitchen.

I grabbed the small pile of envelopes, and began to sift through them. "Bill, bill, junk mail, bill, hmmm." I dropped the other bits of mail back to the table and held one in my hand, the handwritten name and address catching my eye. I flipped the letter over to see if there was a return address on the back flap. Monica Nivens, Pueblo, Colorado. I drew my brows together then a small grin spread across my lips. I slid my finger under the flap, and tore the paper open. A single sheet had a short, neatly handwritten note.

Dear Emily, I want to tell you how sorry I am about Beth. She was an incredible woman, and was a very good friend to have. I am looking forward to seeing you if you come back home for the funeral. Please come. Emily, it has been far too long since you've been home.

Your mother tells me you are happily involved with a teacher named Rebecca. Why didn't you tell me! If you come down, and I hope you do, I am looking forward to meeting this special woman who was finally able to keep a hold of Emily Thomas. Lord knows the rest of us couldn't!

Take care, Emily, and know that my thoughts and prayers are with you right now.

Love Always, Monica P.S. If you'd like, Connie and I would love for the two of you to stay with us. Which brings me to - P.S.S. I can't wait for you to meet Connie. I wish you could have come to our commitment ceremony, but I do understand the life of a lawyer, boy do I! Connie and I constantly fight about it!

I laid the letter on the table with a smile. Monica. She was right; it had been far too long. I chuckled as I began to take all of my purchases out of the bags, and arrange them for packing, or putting away. I smiled again as I could hear my mother's voice,.....

"Did you hear that Claudia Nivens' girl is going to law school?" my ears perked up immediately. A real life law student? And so close!

"She don't look smart enough to be no lawyer." my father said, sitting in his recliner, feet up, newspaper in his hands. My mother looked over at him, putting her Redbook down into her lap.

"Henry. That's not nice."

"Well, it's true." my father said looking at her from around his paper. "She looks like a d.a.m.n idiot with those gla.s.ses of hers always just half way on her nose. Who in h.e.l.l wears gla.s.ses half on and half off?"

"I thought gla.s.ses were supposed to make you look smarter?" I said from my place on the floor in front of the t.v., watching my favorite character, Jo on The Facts of Life.

"Not her."

Claudia Nivens' husband, Ray had died in the early seventies from a terrible accident at the CF&I steel mill, and she and their only daughter, Monica lived off of what life insurance he had had, as well as Claudia was a nurse at St. Mary Corwin Hospital. Monica was much older than I was, so she had little to do with us kids. She started law school when I was only twelve. I sat on the banana seat of my bike from our driveway and watched across the street as Monica would hurry out the front door with a backpack slung over one shoulder, usually more books in her hand as she raced toward her beat up light blue Volkswagen Bug. She'd look over at me, her black hair pinned up on the sides, the dark length blowing around her pretty face and give me the slightest smile, and disappear into the car, and drive off.

I entered the kitchen again from running some packages of toilet paper to the bathroom upstairs, eyeing the letter on the table. I thought back to the summer Beth had gone off to camp.

Dear Emily, June 23, 1981 Hey, Em. Um, I'm not real good at writing letters, so you're going to get what you get, okay? Anyway, I made it all the way here to Tennessee all on my own. Man, was that scary! I never flew before. It's really kind of cool in a way. When you take off from the runway the plane starts to go really, really fast, and you feel almost like you're stuck to your seat. Then when that huge, metal bird lifts off, your stomach goes, too. Kind of like being on a roller coaster, but not as bad.

My dad was so happy to see me, I really thought he was going to cry! I have never seen him so emotional before, yikes! His wife, Lynn is really nice, too. She's pregnant, so in a few months I'll have a little brother or sister! Isn't that great? I never thought I'd be an older sister, though lord knows I'm surprised I haven't been five times over by my mother.

Well, I got to camp three days ago. It is really nice here. The camp is HUGE! There are kids here from all over the U.S. I met a girl from Alaska the other day! Isn't that wild?

I'm in a cabin with seven other girls, not counting our counsellor. They are all pretty nice for the most part. Only three of us are here to do theater. The others I'm not real sure about.

It is really hot and humid here. Ugh.

I guess it's like that here in the south. They have the coolest accents here. You know how I pick them up, so I'm sure it won't take long and I'll be saying things like y'all, and fixin' too, usedtacould. It's so funny. Like it's all one word! Love it.

I guess this will have to do for now. I miss you a lot!!!!! I'll write again soon. Oh, and I'm sending you a birthday card, too. Hopefully you'll get it on time!

Love, Beth ~~.

A birthday wish for a special friend on her special day.....

June 24, 1981 Happy Birthday from that special place in my heart.

Hey, Em.

I know this card is kind of dorky, but it was all I could find.