"Katie, Jenny's whole family has the flu; I doubt very much that Jenny's been up since dawn peering out the window to see if we go by and what difference would it make if she had? Have you and Jenny had a tiff?"

"Mom, don't use words like that. They're so lame."

"Tiff is a perfectly good word. So have you had a spat, quarrel, rumble, confrontation, take your choice." The silence that met this inquiry answered it. "What was it about, honey?"

"You wouldn't understand," Katie grumbled. She'd crawled back up to a vertical position and was craned around, looking back at Jenny's house.

"Try me," Jane said.

Katie just sniffed pitifully, begging to be begged.

Jane dutifully begged.

Finally, just as they turned the last corner and the school loomed up in front of them, Katie relented. "Mom, she told Jason I liked him."

Jane tried to cast her mind back and appreciate the gravity of this treason. "Why would she do that?"

"She's mad at me. There's this new girl at school she likes better than me and I said she was fat. Well, Mom, she is!"

Jane sorted through the pronouns, assigning them, and came to the conclusion that the new girl was the fat one. Jenny herself was a bit plump, but Jane didn't think Katie even noticed that anymore. There were a thousand true, sensible and "motherly" things to say to her daughter, but Jane knew Katie didn't want to hear them and it would slam the door on further confidences. "I think the best thing is to act like you don't care," she ventured. "Jenny will remember pretty soon that you're her best friend and she'll be sorry she told Jason."

All her careful selection of words went for nothing. Katie wasn't paying any attention. As Jane stopped the car in the circle drive in front of the school, Katie put the back of her hand to her forehead. "I think I'm getting sick. You better take me back home."