Without Casey this summer, I mostly sat with Kelsey and her BFF, Sophia. Sometimes Molly would hang out with us too. I guess it is weird that Molly and Kelsey have totally separate friends, since they are sisters and in the same grade, but they are so different that it makes sense.

Kelsey likes to think she’s friends with everybody, and that everyone likes her. She always cares about what people think, and she is obsessed with being in on everything.

I still remember the fit she threw in third grade when she wasn’t invited to Anna’s birthday party. It turns out she was; Anna had just accidentally dropped Kelsey’s invitation on her way to school.

Molly is much more of a free spirit. She could not care less what people think about her, and pretty much always says what’s on her mind, which does tend to get her in trouble. Nans says she has absolutely no filter from her brain to her mouth. But Molly is also a lot of fun, and she’s the first one to organize a kayak race across the lake or a s’mores contest to see who can build the biggest one.

She’s really good with little kids, too, so they’re always running over to her at the lake. Molly says that when she’s old enough she’s going to babysit instead of working at the Park, but Aunt Melissa says, “Molly, family first. If we need you, we need to know you’ll be there.”

There are only twenty-five girls in my grade, so the truth is, even if we split ourselves up, we are all kind of forced to hang out together. There are a ton of cousins and one set of twins, so there are also a lot of people related to each other. My point is, you can’t really get away from anyone. Sure, I’m going to avoid some of the meaner girls, but at some point I’m going to be in class or on a team with them.

“Okay, Rich,” said Dad. “You got this?”

“I got it,” said Rich, eyeing the door because a bunch of his friends from the soccer team had come in and were swarming the counter.

“Hiiiiiii, Lindsay!” called Mason R.

There were three Masons on Rich’s team, so they went by Mason R., Mason L., and Mason B.

Mason R. leaned over the counter. “Hey, can you give me a dozen donuts even if I only pay for a half dozen?” He smiled.

I smiled back. “Nope,” I said.

Mason R. laughed.

Rich’s friends always tried to get us to give them free donuts. Uncle Charlie brought them to every game, and each of those guys ate about four. Uncle Charlie joked that the soccer team would eat us out of business.