by Susan C. Hall

Tyler Elementary School was condemned by the city on a Saturday. By Monday the school district had decided to bus the kids to other schools, including ours, Parkland Elementary.

We have four kids from Tyler in our fifth-grade class -- three boys and a girl named Nina. The first time I saw her, I could tell she was shy. I'm shy, too, so I recognize the quality in others right away.

I wanted to get to know Nina, but my friend Margaret didn't want to include her in our group. She said we shouldn't associate with any of the Tyler kids.

Margaret is like that -- always telling other people what to do. I don't know why we all listen to her. We just do.

One day I finally worked up the courage to ask her why I shouldn't be friendly with Nina. I mean, isn't that what your parents, the Bible and your teachers say you should do?

"Shelly, Parkland Elementary is our school," Margaret said to me. "Those Tyler kids are outsiders." Then she stuck up her nose. "We don't want them here. They'll just wreck our group."

Naturally, everyone went along with Margaret, including me. I wanted so much to tell her she was wrong. But did I?

No.

Pit-iful Problem
During lunch, all the fifth-grade Tyler kids sat at the same table as if they were huddled together for warmth. And face it, the atmosphere was chilling.

Our group sat at the next table. Margaret started talking about a big party she was planning. "No Tyler kids allowed," she announced in a loud voice.

I thought it was rude, but did I tell her so? Of course not.

I reached into my brown bag and pulled out a peach. "Oh, not again," I said with a moan. "Look what my mother put in my lunch. A peach! I've had a peach in my lunch every single day for two weeks." I looked at my friends, smiling. "Anyone want to trade?"

Margaret, annoyed at being interrupted, gave me a disgusted look. "For heaven's sake, Shelly," she said, "you can't trade a peach."

"Why not?" I said.

"They're messy," she said, "and they have that big pit in the middle. They're gross." She leaned forward and dropped her voice. "Give it to one of the Tyler kids. They'll think you're actually being nice." She let out a snicker. "Go on, Shelly. Do it. It'll be hilarious."

Then she laughed, and so did everyone else within earshot. Except me. Margaret had gone too far this time. Treating the Tyler students like outsiders was bad enough, but teasing them was just too much.

I decided I really would offer my peach -- but not as a joke. It would be a token of friendship. I got up and went over to their table.

"Would you like a peach?" I asked, holding it out to Nina.

She shook her head and turned away.

"Oh, well, I just thought I'd ask," I said and then returned to our table.

I felt like a jerk.

"That wasn't any fun," Margaret said. "I thought for sure we'd have a good laugh. Just like I told you, Shelly, you can't trade a peach -- or even give it away."

I sat down and looked at the peach. I was so mad that I squeezed it, and juice dribbled onto my shirt. I said nothing, but I was burning up inside.

Rotten Fruit
I stayed after school to get some extra help with math. When I came out of the building, Nina was sitting on the front steps, and a new girl glared at me.

I was pretty sure the other girl was a sixth-grader from Tyler. I had seen her hanging around with other Tyler kids. I decided the two girls must have missed the bus and were waiting for a ride.

They turned when they heard the door close behind me.

"Hi, Nina," I said.

She looked away from me, but the other girl stood up.

"I'm Patrice," she said. "Are you the one who tried to give the peach to my little sister?"

"That's right," I said, beginning to feel uneasy. I didn't like her tone of voice.

"I understand you thought the whole thing was pretty funny," Patrice said. "Pretending you were being nice."

Oh, no, I thought. Nina must have heard what Margaret said at lunch.

Before I could speak, Patrice piped up, "Well, you guys will have to find some other way to get your laughs, because we don't want to be your friends."

Nina stood up and turned to her sister. "Patrice," she said, "maybe --"

"Let me handle this," Patrice said with a growl. She then turned her attention back to me. "You can just keep your rotten fruit. You got that?"

I knew they misunderstood. "It was a good peach. Honest," I said. "But I've had one in my lunch every day for two weeks, and I'm sick of them. And I really was trying to be friendly."

Patrice put her hands on her hips and glared at me. "Know something?" she said. "I don't believe you. No one at this crummy school is friendly."

At that moment, a car pulled up in front of the school.

"There's Mom," Nina said.

"Let's go." She turned and ran down the walkway toward the car.

Patrice gave me a withering look and turned to follow her sister.

I made a last-ditch effort to explain myself. "I know Margaret was being mean," I yelled, "but I don't feel the way she does."

I went to bed thinking about Patrice. I woke up the next morning still thinking about her. On the way to school, I told Margaret all about it. Why? I don't know.

When I finished, a smirk spread across her face. "You know what? That Patrice is pathetic," she said. "She's dying to be accepted. They all are." She shook her head. "But who'd want to be friends with them?"

Did I tell Margaret that maybe Nina and Patrice could be friends of ours? I didn't dare. I just kept my mouth shut.

You Can Trade a Peach
At lunch I opened my bag to find another peach. I sighed, leaned away from the table and caught a glimpse of Nina. She was looking at me. The expression on her face seemed to be telling me something.

She believes what I said about the peach, I thought. I'm sure of it. Margaret sat across the table from me, prattling on about her party.

I pushed my chair back and stood up.

Margaret stopped midsentence. "Where are you going?" she asked.

Without answering, I walked across the lunchroom and handed Nina my peach.

She took it!

"Thanks," she said, smiling.

"I'm sorry my sister talked to you like that."

"That's okay," I said. "You overheard what Margaret said yesterday, didn't you? So when I offered you the peach, you thought it was a big joke."

She nodded.

"I hope you don't still believe that," I said.

"I don't," Nina said. "I believe what you told me and Patrice yesterday."

Suddenly I had an idea. "I'm not giving you that peach," I said. "I want a trade."

Nina frowned. "But my lunch is all gone. I don't have anything to trade."

The chair next to Nina was empty, so I sat down. "Sure you do," I said. "Friendship."

"You can't trade a peach for friendship," Nina said.

"I don't see why not," I said.

"Patrice would probably say ..."

I held up my hand to stop her and said, "We already have one of the most important things for a friendship -- something in common. You have a big sister who tells you what to do, and I have Margaret. Maybe if we stick together, we can ..."

I stopped because Nina was grinning and nodding her head like crazy. She knew exactly what I was getting at.

"Come on," I said. "Let's go outside and find some place to sit and talk."

We got up and headed out of the cafeteria. The horrified look on Margaret's face was one to remember.

When we got outside, we sat down on the steps, exactly where I had found Patrice and Nina the day before.

"Would you like half of this?" Nina said.

I laughed. "No thanks," I said. "I've had enough peaches to last me for a long time."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"She bit into the peach. "Thanks," she said. "It's good."

I smiled to myself. Who says you can't trade a peach?

	Q: What do you call a bag that’s asleep? A: A knapsack. Valerie L., 9, Wisconsin Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe