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than five minutes. Well, Elaine, how have you been? Lorraine says physics is giving her fits. Are you getting it? Maybe you girls can work together….”
    â€œMom!” Lorraine is suddenly in the conversation. “I don’t need a tutor.”
    And I don’t want to tutor you either
. I remember what else I don’t like about Lorraine. We used to be close friends until I figured out why she started hanging around at my house: Simeon. Every time he showed up, she turned into giggle girl and I turned into one person too many at my own house. What was really rough, though, was when she dropped me as a friend and started dating Sim the next week. Then it was like
both
of them had something better to do than hang out with me. I was really happy when Simeon dumped her. I never could figure out what he saw in her.
    â€œI’m sure Elaine is hearing from all kinds of colleges—Lorraine is hoping for early admission to Stanford.” Mrs. Hesseltine is still babbling, smiling at Mom. “You know, we should catch up sometime. Give me a call next week. I’d love to come by for lunch!”
    I’m happy when Mrs. Hesseltine finally stops talking. At the rate we’re going, we’ll never get the groceries done, and I’m hoping Mom will have some time to hang out in the kitchen with me before she leaves for work. Everyone is exchanging pleasantries, and I mutter an unenthused, “Bye, Lorraine,” when Mom pokes me with her elbow. All I want to do is get home.
    â€œWhy didn’t you talk with Lorraine?” Mom asks as soon as we get away. I knew she would.
    â€œShe was on the phone, Mom,” I say defensively. “I know you think I don’t make an effort, but I do. Lorraine and I aren’t exactly friends anymore.”
    â€œI know,” Mom says slowly. She glances over at me as she pushes the cart toward the checkout counter. “Sometimes I wonder if you don’t need more of a social life, Lainey. Maybe you should get out some…do something fun. You know, the teen years just go by so fast. Next year you’ll look back, and
whoosh!
you’ll be diving into college, and it’ll be over, and you’ll have spent all your time with your old mom. We need to get you out there. I know Ana’s boy is so friendly—I’m sure he would—”
    â€œMom.”
All I need is to be paired up with “Ana’s boy,” Christopher Haines. Really, my life can get no worse. “
Please
don’t start this again.”
    â€œI’m only making a suggestion,” my mother says, looking resigned. “Lainey, I just wonder if you’ve gotten too isolated. Don’t you keep up with any of your friends anymore?”
    â€œI’m fine, Mom.” I start unloading our cart onto the conveyor belt. “Everything’s fine.”
    Â 
    Smashing bananas was one of the first jobs Mom ever gave me to do in the kitchen when I was three, and I still do it by hand, with a fork, so the bananas in my banana bread are nice and chunky. Today I am doing it hard and fast, with violence.
    It’s a good thing banana bread is easy. I need something easy to make right now, something that doesn’t take my total concentration and that will turn out well no matter what I do. Mom talked to me all the way home about “opening up to new experiences” and not “setting my standards for friendship unrealistically high.” Where does she get this stuff?
    I address my invisible audience again. “Place the banana purée into the bowl with the other wet ingredients and stir gently. If you need something to pulverize, you can crush your allspice with a handy mortar and pestle.”
    The cool stone pestle in my hand and the scent of the spices calm me a little. I know Mom means well, I do, but I feel freakish when she points out how different I am from other people in my class. Yeah, I know most of them would rather hang