Jellybean – Spilling The Beans

Hi, Jelly Beans.
This was not your average game of BeanBoozled.

In the hallway at school, Posie and one of the Connor twins were standing shoulder to shoulder, reading from an orange index card tucked inside a beautiful navy and paisley planner. Naomi’s planner.

Naomi, walking the other way, froze.

Now listen, Jelly Beans—hallway drama hits different when it’s your best friend reading your secrets out loud. Naomi wasn’t just embarrassed—she was as warm and broken like an old box of candy that is squished at the bottom of your bookbag.

How could Posie do this to me? she thought. How could she do this?

Naomi marched right up to Posie and the twin, eyes locked, spine straight.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I believe you have something that’s mine.”

(Cue the collective gasp from the Jelly Bean gallery.)

Without waiting, she snatched the card from Posie’s hand. It read:

You are kind. You are patient. You are loving. Don’t let the others get you down…

And so on, and so forth.

Naomi exhaled, finally—planner in hand, note safely back in her possession. But her relief was brief. Right there, in the middle of the hallway, stood her childhood best friend.

Her best friend from second grade. Third grade. Fourth. All the grades, really—before things got complicated in fifth, sixth, seventh, and now, eighth.

She used to trust Posie.

But lately, Posie was a mystery flavor—sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, sometimes just… mean.

You see, Naomi and Posie had a weird friendship. The kind you try to unwrap and end up sticky.

It all started back in kindergarten, on a super snowy day.

Posie and her older sister Poppy were playing a game: Ice Sculpture Store.

Naomi, excited and bundled up in her puffy purple coat, marched over to a group of kids and said, “I want to play Ice Sculptures too!”

One kindergartner shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Posie. Posie and Poppy are in charge.”

So Naomi walked right up and asked, all hopeful: “Can I play, Posie?”

Posie shook her head. “We don’t need any more ice sculpture sellers today.”

Ouch.

Naomi was flustered. She’d just been excluded—for the very first time.
And honestly? It tasted like one of those weird buttered popcorn jelly beans you think is going to be bananas.

From that day on, Naomi quietly declared Posie her sworn enemy.

That is… until second grade.

Naomi was sitting on the bench—not quite lonely, but lonely enough—when Posie walked over like nothing had ever happened.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Naomi, straight out of a movie, said, “Yeah. I’m kind of sad no one will play with me today.”

And just like that, they became inseparable. (The kind of best friends who spent every waking moment thinking about what games to play with each other) Until they weren’t.

By third grade, they were fighting about who had the cuter My Little Kangaroo

By fourth grade, they were on again, off again.
By sixth grade, Posie was with the cool kids.
And by now—well. You saw the hallway.

Back to the present.

Naomi held the orange index card close and walked away. She didn’t cry. She didn’t yell.
She just… kept moving.

She never brought it up again.

Because here’s the truth, Jelly Beans: sometimes you don’t get closure. Sometimes people read your affirmations out loud like they’re just words and not tiny pieces of your heart.But Naomi knew she didn’t need to make a scene. Because they’d have to live with what they did. Some friendships fade, Some people flake. But a Jelly Bean who knows her flavor? She keeps going.

Meet Naomi! She has pale skin and beautiful, silky yet curly hair. Naomi is a middle schooler at The Peretti School. She loves the color yellow more than anything, and her favorite food is grilled cheese. She beats to her own drum. Naomi is a smart girl; however, she does not always feel smart. This is because she has to work hard at everything. Naomi has always felt like she had to grow up faster than she wanted to.

Naomi’s memory is impeccable. One day at school, Naomi took a fall. As the hall monitor walked over to her, a memory suddenly overcame her mind. With fog surrounding the image, the flashback remained vivid in her mind, right in the center of her forehead. She pictured herself as a young girl, holding a tray of play food. She was walking over to a small boy in her preschool class and said, “Honey, it’s time for lunch… ‘boom.’” Just like that, with a tap of black, Naomi had a gash that was gushing blood from the center of her forehead. She didn’t remember how, but somehow, she ended up in the lap of her teacher, a very soft-spoken, strong woman with strawberry-colored hair.

In that moment, love felt infinite, and chaos was vigorous. “Which band-aid should we give her?” one teacher shouted. “Maybe the butterfly,” another teacher suggested. Naomi was so afraid. The teacher with strawberry-colored hair remained calm and was a rock in the chaos. Naomi then got up and continued with her day, though she had a sad demeanor. She didn’t know how she was going to get through the rest of it. She often looked within and daydreamed. Daydreamed of the love she longed to receive and the strength that was buried deep inside her. She daydreamed of the teacher she so desperately wanted a hug from and wished she knew what had happened to her. She wished she was safe.

Naomi went to her next class, and with a slap of the rubric paper, Naomi was met with a C. “What?” she said. “I’ve worked so hard,” tears welling in her eyes. Naomi called her mom. “This is garbanzo! I got a C on that project about Andrew Banana.”

-To be continued…