The Best Friend Read Free Page B

you again! You look wonderful!” Honey cried.
    â€œWell, thanks,” Becka’s mom sputtered. “So do you, dear.”
    â€œI moved in right next door!” Honey exclaimed, her arm still around Mrs. Norwood’s slender waist. “Isn’t that amazing?”“Yes. I guess it is,” Becka’s mom replied uncertainly. “That’s really nice.” She made an excuse and quickly retreated from the room.
    Honey turned back to Becka. “Your mom is so great. I always thought she was really neat.”
    â€œYeah. She’s okay,” Becka replied.
    Mom didn’t recognize Honey either, Becka realized. That made Becka feel a little better, a little less guilty.
    But not much.
    â€œShe looks a lot older,” Honey said, her smile fading. “She shouldn’t let her hair go gray. She should color it.”
    â€œShe does color it,” Becka replied. “She’s been really busy lately, so—”
    â€œI’d like to color my hair,” Lilah said, running a hand through her brown ponytail. “Brown is such a blah color. But my mom said she’d kill me if I did anything to it.”
    â€œAt least your hair is straight,” Trish complained.
    â€œOh. I love that pin. What’s that pin?” Honey asked, ignoring Trish and Lilah and picking up a pin from Becka’s dresser top.
    â€œIt’s a parrot,” Becka told her, stepping up beside her. “Bill—uh—my old boyfriend, gave it to me because I like birds.”
    â€œYou always loved animals,” Honey said, holding the pin up to admire it. “Remember that injured bird we found? You took it home and tried to nurse it back to health? Remember how we cried and cried when the little bird died?”
    No, thought Becka. I don’t remember.
    â€œYeah,” she told Honey. “I remember.”
    â€œCan I try it on?” Honey asked, holding it up to her orange sweater. “Is it plastic?”
    â€œNo. It’s enamel,” Becka told her.
    â€œYou were always so stylish,” Honey said, standing in front of the mirror with the pin. “You always knew the latest thing to wear. You always looked so great. I love your haircut. It’s just so perfect for you.”
    â€œThanks,” Becka said, glancing at Trish, who was staring out the window.
    Honey admired the parrot pin in the mirror, a pleased smile on her face.
    â€œI think it’s going to snow again,” Trish said. “Look how dark it’s getting.”
    â€œIt better not,” Lilah said, standing up and stretching. “We’re supposed to drive to my cousin’s tonight. The roads are already so slippery.”
    â€œI’ll bet we have a white Christmas this year,” Trish said.
    â€œMy sweater. I’ll never get it finished in time!” Becka complained.
    â€œWhy don’t you buy one and say that you knitted it?” Lilah suggested.
    â€œIt would be too good,” Becka replied.
    â€œBuy a bad one!” Lilah said.
    Becka and Trish laughed.
    Honey didn’t seem to hear the conversation. “I love your room,” she said, her eyes studying the posters above Becka’s bed. “It’s small, but you’ve got everything you need. You just have such good taste.”
    â€œThanks,” Becka replied awkwardly.
    â€œI want my room to be just like this,” Honey said thoughtfully. “I even want the same posters.”
    â€œI’m kind of tired of them,” Becka told her.
    â€œReally? Can I have them?” Honey asked. “I mean, if you don’t want them anymore?”
    Becka wasn’t really ready to pull them down. She had just been making conversation. But now Honey was staring at her intently, eagerly waiting for an answer.
    â€œYeah. I guess,” she said with a shrug.
    â€œGreat! You don’t have to take them down now. I’m still unpacking cartons in my room,” Honey told