Stories

A Little Sliver

By Clare Mishica

I stared at the bulletin board in the hallway outside the office. I couldn’t believe it. My friend Ruby was the Washington Middle School Student of the Month! Sometimes it’s hard to be friends with a person who does everything well. I’d never even been nominated. Ruby’s picture was posted on the bulletin board, and she’d won a plaque and a gift certificate from the Book Nook.

“Way to go, Ruby,” I said as we walked to our English class, trying to sound enthusiastic. But a little sliver of jealousy was caught under my skin, and I hadn’t quite wiggled it out yet.

“Thanks, Marta,” she said, smiling. “What time is the art show tonight?”

“Six o’clock,” I said, as someone else gave Ruby a high five and congratulated her.

The bell rang, and Ruby and I hurried into our classroom and plopped down in our seats.

“We’re going to start on our essays today,” announced Mrs. Mills, our English teacher. “I have a list of topics on the blackboard. I want you to pick one and develop three supporting ideas.”

Everyone in class groaned at the same time, as if a conductor had waved a baton, but Mrs. Mills ignored us. She could probably ignore a Mack truck rumbling past her desk.

“Please try to get some ideas down,” Mrs. Mills continued. “After fifteen minutes, you can raise your hand if you’re still stumped and need some help.”

I scanned the list and my eyes caught on “What Is a Friend?” I could write about that with no problem. Ruby looked over at me with a big grin. I knew that she’d picked the same topic. Then I picked up my pencil and wrote, “A friend is someone who understands you without using words.” Maybe it wouldn’t be too hard to write this essay after all.

After English, Ruby and I ate lunch together, and more kids stopped by to congratulate her. It made that little sliver poke at me, but I tried not to pay attention. Instead, I concentrated on peeling my orange and picking off all the white, spider-webby parts.

After school, Ruby showed me her plaque.

“Cool,” I said, glancing at the shiny brown surface. Her name was written on the top in bright gold letters. I couldn’t think of anything else to say, and Ruby put it in her backpack. Then we stepped out into the brisk air and headed home.

That night, when I got to the art show at the library, Ruby was waiting for me at the doorway with a smile that kept showing up even though she was trying to hide it.

“What’s up?” I asked, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she followed me around as I walked through the displays of paintings and sketches. I’d entered a black-and-white charcoal drawing of a collie, and just then I spied it. There was a second-place red ribbon hanging off its black mat board!

“Surprise! You got second place!” Ruby squealed. There were tons of entries, and I’d never expected to win anything. All at once, happiness started to bubble up inside. I felt like a soda bottle that’s been shaken too hard, and then those dancing bubbles exploded in a gigantic smile. Ruby grabbed me and gave me a big hug, beaming.

“I’m so glad you got a ribbon,” Ruby told me. “No one else can draw animals the way you do. Your collie looks like it could jump off the paper and lick my hand!”

“Thanks,” I laughed as Ruby went on, telling me how much everyone admired the horse I’d painted for her birthday last month.

As I listened to Ruby, I suddenly realized how happy Ruby felt for me—truly happy. It made my ribbon and the art show seem like a real celebration. It also made me feel a little ashamed of myself. I’d let that sliver of jealousy stop me from celebrating Ruby’s award with her, and I’d let it poke away the happiness.

“Come with me,” I told Ruby, and I pulled her over to the refreshments table. I poured two cups of fruit punch and handed one to her.

“I want to make a toast to the Student of the Month, Ruby Williams,” I began. “She’s not just smart, she’s also a terrific friend.”

“I’ll agree with that,” said Mrs. Mills, who was standing at the end of the punch table. (She can hear just fine when she wants to.)

“Shhhh,” said Ruby, and then we both burst out laughing as we walked off to look at the other pictures. I felt so much better without that sliver jabbing me.

I also knew how I’d end my English essay: “A friend is a person who is happy for you.” From now on, that was the kind of friend I’d be, no matter how many slivers I had to yank out!

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