Just as Long as We're Together by Judy Blume Read Free Book Online Page B

"Look at my notes," she said, holding up a stack of 3x5 cards. "I've been working every night till ten."
    "Don't worry so much," I told her. "After all, it's just five minutes."
    "Do you have any idea how long five minutes really is?"
    "Five minutes is five minutes," I said.
    "Imean," she said, "do you know how it feels?"
    "How it feels?" I asked.
    "Yes," she said. "Look, I'll show you. Stand right there . . . right where you are . . ."
    I was standing in the middle of her bedroom.
    "Don't move," Rachel said.
    "Okay."
    "Now. . . tell me when you think five minutes is up. And don't look at your watch," she said. "Ready, set, go. . ."
    I stood very still. I didn't move, except to scratch my leg. Burt and Harry were asleep on Rachel's bed. Rachel sat at her desk, shuffling
    her note cards. I wondered how Alison was doing at Dr. Kiaff's. Alison says Peter Kiaff likes me. She says he's always looking at me and that's how you can tell. But I'm not sure she's right. When Peter asked what I was bringing to the bake sale I told him I was partners with Alison and that we were baking brownies from an old family recipe. He didn't seem impressed.
    I looked over at Rachel again. She was still at her desk, making more note cards. "Okay," I said. "Five minutes is up."
    Rachel checked her watch. "Hal It's only been one minute, twenty-four seconds."
    "I can't believe it!"
    "I told you five minutes feels like a long time!"
    Mom made me puree of carrot and a baked potato for dinner that night, because after my
    • braces are tightened I can't eat anything but soft, mushy foods. "Rachel's trying out for the debating team," I said, as I mashed my potato with butter. "She's got to make a five minute speech about seat belts."
    "I'm sure she'll do fine," Mom said.
    "I'm sure, too, but Rachel's worried. She wants to be the best."
    "She's such a perfectionist," Mom said.
    "I wouldn't mind being perfect," Bruce said.
    "You mean you're not?" I asked.
    "Very funny," he said.
    "Be glad you're not," Mom said. "It's a hard way to go through life."
    I tasted the carrot puree. Even though it looked like baby food it was delicious. Bruce watched me eat it. "I hope I never need braces," he said.
    "It's temporary," I told him. "Some day I'll have a beautiful smile."
    "Yeah . . . but what about the rest of your face?"
    "Bruce!" Mom said.
    "It's just a joke, Mom," he told her.
    "He really wishes he looked like me," I said.
    Bruce chuckled to himself.
    We had vanilla pudding for dessert. "I'm thinking of trying out for symphonic band," I announced, as the pudding slid around in my mouth.
    "Since when do you play an instrument?" Bruce asked.
    "I'm trying out for percussion."
    "Since when do you play drums?" Bruce asked.
    "Ms. Lopez says I can learn . . . as long as I have a good sense of rhythm." I finished my pudding. "Do you think I have a good sense of rhythm?" I asked Mom.
    "When you were little I'd give you a pot and a wooden spoon and you were happy for hours. If that's an indication I'd say yes."
    "A pot and a wooden spoon," Bruce repeated, shaking his head and chuckling again.
    The next time Dad called I asked him if he thought I had a good sense of rhythm.
    He said, "You used to have a great time with a pot and a wooden spoon."
    "That's exactly what Mom said."
    "I guess we remember the same things."
    I told him about the seventh grade bake sale and that Alison and I are going to bake Sadie Wishnik's brownies.
    "Who's Sadie Wishnik?" Dad asked.
    "Leon's mother."
    "Who's Leon?"
    "Alison's stepfather. And you know who Alison is," I told him, "she's my new friend."
    "So Sadie Wishnik is her stepgrandmother?" Dad asked.
    "I guess so," I said. "Anyway, we're going to Sadie's house to bake, on Sunday. She lives in New Jersey, near the ocean. And speaking of oceans . . . thanks for the box of shells from Hawaii. I've never seen such pretty ones. Did you find them yourself?"
    Dad hesitated. "The truth?"
    "Yes."
    "I never did get to the beach. I bought them at a gift