It was kind of a betrayal to open up a friendship, something so private and special, and walk a stranger in like that; Stacia’s facial expression and body language confirmed this very notion. I didn’t know that things wouldn’t ever smooth over, that it would be so hard to fold in Tonya. In fact, the day our crew grew to four, that’s when everything terrible started. It was like Tonya was the catalyst for the summer’s events. I’d blame Stacia, but sometimes I wonder if Tonya was the real omen. I feel bad for thinking this way, but I can’t help it.

With four people, we could play Beat, competing to see who jumped the longest, and wouldn’t have to turn the rope. Days later, when Stacia got in my face about inviting “that dirty girl” to play with us, this was the reason that I gave, but truthfully, it had little to do with jumping rope. Tonya reminded me of Stacia when I met her, a kid with no friends. My heart went out to her, this lonely-looking girl; I wanted to help her. If I told that to Stacia, I knew she wouldn’t care. That summer, Stacia watched Tonya go up and down the stairs too. Sometimes, Stacia would roll her eyes at her or just make a face as if she’d tasted something awful. This may be why, before today, Tonya stopped looking at us at all and passed by our double Dutch game without a glance.

Maybe because of the disruption of meeting Tonya, or because there was a stranger among us, Precious wasn’t feeling so confident in her ability to jump into the rope the regular way. Usually, she’d run in while the ropes were going, but that day she said, “I want to stand in.” So while the ropes lay limp on the ground, she stood in the middle of them, then we slowly rocked them back and forth, saying, “Ready, set, aaand . . . go!”

Stacia couldn’t “run in” either. She could jump pretty well, but the challenge was getting her in the ropes. For a while, she had to stand next to one of the turners and dig potatoes, her hands scooping the air as she rocked toward and away from the ropes but not actually jumping in. The more time she spent digging, the angrier she got. When she finally jumped in, there was almost always a bad landing, and somebody got snapped on. That day, I knew it would be Tonya.