Dear diary, she wasn’t invited.

Mum didn’t even-. No. I can’t deal with that right now. I’ll get to it later, after the part where I marched over to Penelope’s house Sunday morning and knocked on her door. I couldn’t figure out why she didn’t just mention something Friday afternoon during our tutor session. It wasn’t making any sense. The only thing that stopped me from grabbing her shirt the second she opened that door and demanding why she hadn’t come, was the sad, resigned eyes that met me, and the way they widened into shock at my expression.

“You’re angry with me?” she asked, as if it was the most bizarre turn of events.

“I-. I uh...” I wasn’t expecting her reaction, so naturally I just blurt it out. “Youweren’tatthebarbequeandIthoughtyouhatedmeorsomething!”

“I’d never hate you, Emma,” she assured me. I don’t know how she understood me, but her expression had softened. “And it’s good to know that you weren’t in charge of the guest list.”

“Of course I wasn’t. Mum just threw it without...” And it hit me. “She didn’t invite you.”

Penelope leaned against her doorframe. “Nope. I think she was trying to make a point of it too. I noticed her pass right by my house like ten times in the span of one hour and she was pretty loud when inviting everyone else. I thought I’d upset you Friday afternoon by being a little too honest about your division skills and she was just trying to be a good mum.” She sighed. “And I think that she’s trying to be a good one in her own way when it comes to me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I already knew. I just didn’t want Penelope to know.

“She doesn’t like me, for whatever reason. So I guess her instinct kicks in to protect her children from that strange neighbour that’s just a little too honest.”

“That’s not fair on you!”

Penelope shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m not going to try and make people like me. That’s not who I am. If your mum doesn’t want to invite me to some barbeque with a bunch of other people who shoot me odd looks, then that’s a plus.” She must have seen my expression fall, because she pushed herself off the doorframe. “It still sucks that I couldn’t hang out with you and Danny. But at least I’ll get to see you on your actual birthday. It’s on Tuesday, right? I’m making your present this afternoon.”

“Making my present?” She almost managed to distract me. “My mum needs to see that you’re making this effort for me and she needs to know how much you’ve helped me and Danny with our schoolwork. It’s just not fair that she judged you last weekend and won’t see you any differently now.”

“Emma, it’s fine. I really don’t mind.”

“I do! She organised a barbeque and invited the entire street except my friend, for my birthday, and didn’t even tell me. That’s not fair. She needs to know that.” I took a breath. “I need to tell her that.”

“Wait a moment,” Penelope said. “I’m all for standing up for yourself, but this is your mum we’re talking about. She isn’t some school bully. Your mum cares about you, even if she shows it in her own, weird as-, weird way. I’m really not worth poking holes in your relationship with her. I am perfectly used to this kind of behaviour, so don’t think you’re doing me any favours by getting yourself grounded over some silly barbeque.”

“But-.”

“Please Emma, just leave it alone.”

“Okay,” I lied. Whether she noticed, I don’t know, but she didn’t act like she had.

“So, how was this barbeque held in the honour of your twelfth birthday?”

“Pretty boring,” I said. “I got an old lady angry with me and had to talk to a lot of people that didn’t care that it was for my birthday. Towards the end I did meet a grade twelve boy from my school. His name was Isaac. He was the only fun guest. I think you would’ve liked him.”

Penelope smiled. “Oh, I already know Isaac. I remember when he was your age. He used to ride his bike up the hill all the time, but never down it. I asked why once and he said that he didn’t like losing that much control. Good kid.”

“How old are you?” I marvelled.

“Old enough to know that the ‘old lady’ that got angry probably wasn’t that old,” she answered.

“She had to be in her fifties!”

Penelope laughed. “Trust me Emma. The older you are, the older that old seems. I’m sure that when you were six, you would’ve thought of me now as an ‘old lady’.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever thought of you  as an old lady.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said. Her smile faltered for a moment then widened. “Speaking of old ladies, your mum is across the road tapping her foot.”

“She’s not an old lady,” I whispered loudly, afraid Mum would somehow hear me.

“Not yet, but you’ll never think of her that way. The second you admit that your parents are old is the second you admit that soon you will be too.”

I turned to leave. “Well when I end up being old, you’ll be ancient.”

I don’t know why Penelope was still laughing even after I’d walked across the road and closed our front door. She might be a little weird after all. But that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t have been invited. I’ve just got to wait for the best moment to bring it up. Then I’ll make sure it never happens again. Penelope’s my friend. She doesn’t deserve to be left out.