The New York Times Bestselling Author

To Carolina

Two can play this game

There I stood in the icy wind, facing a new school year, 2010 - 2011 was my game, and I was

determined to play it. As the brisk air crept into my green uniform fleece, I decided I had to face

it; I couldn't take the cold for much longer. I approached the familiar row of yellow triangles

painted on the ugly green tarmac, with the names of the classes on them “It’s now or never”

It was my first “first day of school” at Greengates, as I had arrived the first day of term 2 the

previous year. Coming in the middle of the year was hard. The stereotypical Mexican sun never

shone down on the capital city. Rain fell down in monsoon proportions, not only did it drench the

ground; I felt it dampen my spirit.

But that day energy bubbled in my stomach, “Scott Ahearn, what kind of teacher name is that!”

And just like every other girl I was fretting over my new grey skirt that had recently been traded

for the old pinafore. I felt nothing but excitement, and then it hit me “what will happen when

Anna finds out I’m not in her class anymore?!” As the question dawned to me, I got worried,

what would happen when Anna found out?

The year before Anna had been my only friend, an abusive manipulative cruel “friend”. Gossip

revolved around her. The chubby Brazilian girl would spread rumours about herself to get her

more attention. I couldn't go down that road again; it was a risk I wasn‟t willing to take, so as her

so last season bangs wandered into my direction, I put on my best poker face and smiled. My

good luck streak began when her 2 year old voice squealed out the very words

“OMG we’re in the same class! Miss Patricia, right?”

“S - sorry, I‟m with Mr Scott this year” I mumbled under my breath.

Wandering away, and up the staircase an evil, satisfies grin broke out on my face. The mix of

joy and confusion was overwhelming. She thought she would be able to make me miserable

again, she was wrong. I was in charge of my life this time and I liked it. From that moment on I

knew it would be a good year. I had hope, or well, at least I thought I did.

Walking up the flight of stairs and into the classroom I was instantly reminded I was still in a

PYP primary school. Colourful posters and IB learner profiles covered the walls, and even the

desks were labelled with cute animal names, Lions, Tigers and bears -oh my, and wolves and

last but not least dolphins. Soon realizing the seats were alphabetical I took my seat at the

dolphins table which was closest to the door as I watched and waited. Peering at the two long

desks in front of me of me, I noticed that they looked eerily empty. Across my desk there was no

other name card Score a desk to myself. But then one other seat was empty, but this seat did

have a name card.

Seeing him sitting on the opposite side of the room those long dark curls reminded me of one of

the many awkward memories that were J4.

We strode parallel to the deep artificially green Astor - turf arguing (like always) about what Jess

wanted to argue about … Ramiro.

“He‟s really cute, trust me” she yelled frantically as the lunch bell rang

“Oh really, well how am I supposed to know how „adorable‟ he is if you never point him out to

me” I snapped back

“Ok, calm down, he‟s ever there playing football” she replied calmly

“Where? Because considering the fact that every boy is playing football right now, I have about

50 Ramiro‟s to choose from” I screamed back at her, trying to hustle across the pitch

“He‟s the one over there” she claimed, losing her temper by the second

“Where, over the rainbow? Look I don‟t have time for this, I‟m going now” I spat back at her as I

turned and walked away

I had only gotten 10 paces when she yelled out “Ramiro!” at the top of her lungs. A short boy

with dark brown curly hair turned to look at us he turned us into hot pink statues with o shaped

mouths, staring at a guy who really couldn't care less.

As Ram walked over from his best friend Santi and over to his respected seat at the dolphins

table with one look I decided he would be the one I would like this year. Yes emphasize the

word decided, I chose him like the wand chooses the wizard.

Anna had been my only friend last year - and I definitely didn't want to go down that road again -

so I was falling, looking for a new group of friends, and it just so happened Carolina and Andy

caught me. Carolina was with me in Mr Scott's class, and may I say she‟s not really the sharpest

knife in the drawer, but she was all I had. Caro had this thing about her, she demanded

presence, and she needed to be heard. And you could hear her I'm better than you, at

everything except schoolwork vibe radiate off of her. Her tan Latino skin shimmered in the sun

like a vampire's, and may I say her skin really did compliment her personality. And now I realize

that I would have been better without anything, because Caro had a plan.

The excitement of the first week of school slowly faded and we all started to get into the rhythm

of being in school again and actually doing work. Boring became excruciatingly dull and I guess

Caro decided it was about time to spice things up.

I was walking towards the kinder area on the way to the parking lot to catch my bus when

Nirmol ran up to me (I knew it had to be urgent because Nirmol‟s tush didn‟t have an average

speed over snail pace, and her mouth couldn't move much faster either,) and started speaking

so quickly my head started to spin. After asking her to slow down 4 times she finally got to the

point where I would decipher words the words

“ Caro Told Santi You Like Ram ”

From the wheeze that was her voice, I froze. I didn‟t want to know the who, what, where, when

or why. All I know is Caro told and that‟s all that I needed to hear. My knees buckled, and my

heart was crushed, I had gotten enough betrayal to last a lifetime in J4. Why me? Why not

Sarah or Paula or any of the popular “too cool for school” girls? I couldn't bring myself to walk

those last 20 metres to the bus. Knowing that the world wouldn't stop for me, not now not ever.

Later on I found out Caro really had ratted me out, as it turned out Santi had accused HER of

liking Ram and to save herself she shouted in response “No Svenya does why would I like

him?!” to save no one but herself.

Now whenever I talk to her about it she has a stupid excuse like “oh we were little back then no

one cares” well guess what I care, and no matter what she says that moment will always be

there with me. It may not seem like a really big deal, but Caro taught me one thing over the 3

years I knew her, she always complains about how I always say bad things about her, but really

she gave me nothing good to remember her by, only betrayal, lies and pain. I don‟t know what

her goal was, but if it was to smash me to pieces she definitely succeeded. I learned from her

that friends are hard to find and I trusted too fast.

I salute you, Carolina Marlin, for being you. May your manipulative, I won‟t do my homework I‟ll

just copy it off of someone else's attitude shine through with the straight D‟s you deserve, now

I won't be there for you to copy your English homework off of.

And even now, years later, I still wonder what my friendship with Carolina would have been like.

But even moving halfway across the globe can't stop her, because if she wants something, she

gets it, nothing can stop her, not even superman.

Yes

We strode parallel to the deep artificially green Astor - turf arguing (like always)

about what Jess wanted to argue about … Ramiro.

“He‟s really cute, trust me” she yelled frantically as the lunch bell rang

“Oh really, well how am I supposed to know how „adorable‟ he is if you never

point him out to me” I snapped back

“Ok, calm down, he‟s ever there playing football” she replied calmly

“Where? Because considering the fact that every boy is playing football right

now, I have about 50 Ramiro‟s to choose from” I screamed back at her, trying

to hustle across the pitch

“He‟s the one over there” she claimed, losing her temper by the second

“Where, over the rainbow? Look I don‟t have time for this, I‟m going now” I spat

back at her as I turned and walked away

I had only gotten 10 paces when she yelled out “Ramiro!” at the top of her

lungs. A short boy with dark brown curly hair turned to look at us he turned

us into hot pink statues with o shaped mouths, staring at a guy who really

couldn't care less.

Selznick.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Svenya Braich grew up in LA and now lives with her family in NYC.

Braich is also the author of the novel Swiftie with drawings by

Brian Selznick and numerous picture books also illustrated by Brian

Best new

addition to

children’s

literature since

Harry Potter

-The Daily

News

A story with heart and hope, a

real old fashioned Memoir.

- NY Times

Heart-breaking…a

stunning Debut form a

gifted talent

- LA Times