Meg was tight ponytails, bubble gum lip gloss, and winking at boys before she knew what it meant.
Beatrice was skinned knees, short knotted hair, and tear-stained cheeks.
It came in like a hurricane.
One day at recess, Bea falls and bruises her knee when playing football with Peter’s friends.
The whole team (with the exception of Peter and Bea) takes this as proof that girls are weak and fragile, and therefore cannot play football.
Pete offers to leave the game with her to go hang out, but Beatrice just shakes her head. She walks off to a back corner of the playground and finds a spot where Peter and the rest of the team can’t see her. Then, hidden from a world that thinks she is weak, she curls up and cries.
“Excuse me.”
Bea’s head shoots up in alarm.
“Are you ok?”
Meg. She was tall and pretty, and she had more friends then Bea had stuffed animals (which was quite significant). Bea didn’t have much experience with her - sure, they said hi in the halls sometimes, but they never really hung out.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” says Beatrice, jumping up and wiping the dirt off her jeans.
“I heard you just now…when you were crying. You don’t need to lie to me. What’s going on?” Meg sits down in the spot Bea just vacated, patting the ground beside her.
“The boys on the football team are jerks!” Bea exclaims, sitting down before continuing, “I fall over making a goal and somehow it shows all the fault in the female sex, thus making it perfectly reasonable to tell me to leave.”
Bea is starting to cry again, and Meg’s looking at her with wide eyes.
“I- I’m sorry, I don’t really talk to people about feelings or whatever.” Bea says, feeling more awkward than ever.
“It’s okay, boys suck.” Meg says, looking off at the football field.
“Yeah, they do.” Bea sighs, and they sit there in comfortable silence until recess is over.
It becomes a daily occurrence: just the two of them, sitting in the same spot near the tree, talking about how much boys suck, and eating cookies if Bea remembers to bring some.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This goes on through the rest of Year Five, and continues all the way through Years Six, Seven, and Eight.
By Year Nine, Meg has already gone through countless relationships. She tells Bea that maybe they were wrong about boys, but they always end up eating Oreos and crying at their tree; Meg’s head in Bea’s lap as she sputters on about how she should have listened to nine year old them.
Bea only goes through this once herself, and for that she’s thankful. She and Meg make a vow to never speak of Ben The Dick again, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt every time she hears his name mentioned in passing conversation. Peter is trying to be better at it, and Bea knows that, but it still stings to hear him to tell a story with Ben in it.
One day at the tree, Meg is feeling particularly off about boys, and out of nowhere decides, “I’m going to date a girl.”
At this, Bea takes her head off Meg’s shoulder from where she was resting it.
“Who?”
“I don’t know, someone.”
“You’d think that be a important thing to decide on before you date them.”
“You’d think.”
Bea pulls out her phone and opens Facebook.
“Her?” she says, pointing at the girl on the screen.
“No, she stole a cookie from me a few years back.”
“That was technically my cookie, you know.”
“You gave it to me! Whatever, not her.”
This goes on for about an hour until class starts, with Meg saying no to everyone Bea pulls up.
Later, Bea is over at Peter’s house for the night. As he’s showing her where to put her sleeping bag because his mom won’t let her sleep in his room anymore, Bea announces:
“You know what Meg said today?”
“What?” replies Peter, only half listening while setting up Mario Kart.
“That she wants to date a girl.”
“Really? Who?”
Bea shrugs her shoulders, “I don’t know, she’s said no to half the female population of our grade.”
“What about you?” Pete hands Bea the good controller.
“Me!? Why me?” Bea sputters.
“Oh, come on Bea. You’ve liked her since Year Six. I bet she’s finally picked up on it,” Peter says with a grin.
“You think?” Bea says, panicking because all this time she thought she was being subtle.
“Calm down, I could just be imagining things. Besides, I’m the only person you ever talk to, so there’s no way of her finding out.”
“You’re not the only person I talk to!” replies Bea, offended.
“Who else?”
Bea thinks for a minute.
“…Meg?”
“Exactly. Now choose a car before I do it for you.”