"I'm just calling to say, Mallory Pike, that I'm never speaking to you again,"
Mallory stands in the hallway, face splotchy red and eyes irritated from a night spent sobbing into a pillow pressed tight against her skin.
"You completely humiliated me, yourself, Sam, and probably scarred Ben Hobart for the rest of his life. He's going to have issues, not be able to perform properly. Sam, too. All thanks to you. All thanks to a little baby named Mallory Pike, who can't -"
Mallory hangs up.
"Stacey McGill and I aren't friends anymore," she informs her mother when Mrs. Pike comes up the stairs with a basket of laundry. The telephone rings again. "So, don't take any calls from her." Mrs. Pike pauses in surprise, but before she can ask questions Mallory walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.
I'm not a baby, thinks Mallory, splashing warm water on her face. I'll prove it to her. I'll prove it to them all.
Mallory runs all the way to Ben Hobart's house in the hot Connecticut sun. It's a muggy day. In the front yard, Mrs. Hobart's pulling weeds and chatting with Mrs. Perkins. Mathew and Johnny turn cartwheels on the lawn.
"Go right on in, Mal," Mrs. Hobart says with a wave.
Mallory takes the stairs three at a time. She doesn't knock on Ben's door, just barrels through. Startled, Ben whips around in his chair, nearly smashing his starship model with a flying elbow. Before she loses her nerve, Mallory turns the lock and lifts her t-shirt over her head. She didn't bother to wear a bra. Ben doesn't ask questions.
Mallory doesn't feel like a grown up.
She doesn't feel sophisticated either. Or beautiful. Or graceful. Instead, Mallory feels sore, guilty, and uncomfortably exposed. Mallory glances at the clock and wonders how much longer Ben will take. She hopes she doesn't have to do this more than once.
Thirteen will truly come now. It will fulfill all its wonderful promises. Mallory wonders if she'll feel the effects right away or if there's a twenty-four hour waiting period. She hopes her mother won't guess the reason for her sudden maturity and sophistication.
Ben still hasn't finished.
Mallory begins to worry. All she feels is a cold sickness churning in her stomach. And guilt stinging at her eyes. She closes them tight and prays she doesn't throw up.
This isn't what she expected. This isn't what Stacey promised.
Ben groans and...it's over?
Mallory sits up and shoves Ben away. "Do I look any different?" she asks.
"Huh?" Ben reaches for his glasses on the bedside table. "No, same old Mallory Pike." He grins.
Pulling her clothes on quickly, Mallory crosses the room to the mirror hanging over the dresser. Indeed, the same old Mallory Pike. Completely unaltered in appearance. Worst yet, she doesn't feel any different in any way that's good. All Mallory feels is sick and sad and ashamed. And none of those are anywhere near the glamour and sophistication promised. She is not grown up.
Stacey McGill is a liar.
"I have to go home,"
Ben's smile fades. He nods, bewildered. What did he expect?
Tears spring to her eyes on the stairs. She crosses Bradford Court without acknowledging Mrs. Hobart or Mrs. Perkins. People think Mallory is smart. Right now, Mallory feels very stupid.
Such a foolish girl.
Of Stacey's true motives, Mallory cannot be sure. But now, Mallory doubts all Stacey ever said, every word Mallory so appreciatively swallowed. And Mallory must carry the weight of her actions and Stacey's actions all through eighth grade and beyond...beyond what Mallory can even imagine.
Mallory turns onto Slate Street, wipes the tears from her eyes. She thinks of the last month, dissects all of Stacey's lies. Kristy...Dawn...Mary Anne...how foolish of Mallory to believe. Stacey just didn't want to feel like a whore alone.
"Goodness, Mallory, why is your shirt on backward?" exclaims Mrs. Pike.
Mallory bursts into fresh tears.
Mallory is only thirteen.