chapter 11
S
am and I were different in class now. The time we’d spent together at the party had changed us. Or maybe it had just changed me by teaching me to relax a little and not judge him so harshly. In any case, we chatted easily before first period, and in sixth period, we worked together on an assignment, and he even showed me the picture he’d been doodling while Mr. Henchey droned on during the first ten minutes of class. In the time it had taken our teacher to explain our assignment, Sam had sketched him in pencil, only he had given him a Colonial soldier’s uniform instead of normal clothes. I couldn’t believe how good the drawing was.
“What, this?” Sam asked dismissively. He crumpled it up and looked embarrassed. “This is nothing. I draw a million of these a day.”
By lunchtime on Tuesday, I was practically bubbling over with excited nerves about the meeting after school. Cody had nodded at me as we passed each other in the hall, and Kelsi had shot me a small smile.
“So can you help me with trig after school today?” Jennica asked as she and Brian plopped down across from me in the cafeteria.
“I can’t,” I said. “I’ve got that meeting after school today. Remember?” I’d told her about it on Saturday night when we went to the movies. I couldn’t believe she’d forgotten.
Jennica looked at me blankly. “What?” she asked. “Oh, that death-group thing you’re doing?”
“It’s not a
death group,”
I said. “It’s just some people getting together to support each other. And Kelsi.”
Jennica nodded, and I could tell she was trying to look interested. “Yeah, sounds great,” she said.
I tried not to let her forced enthusiasm bother me.
“It
is
going to be great,” I said firmly.
“So who’s going?”
I ticked off the short list.
“Pretty sad, huh?” she asked. “That there are that many kids whose parents have died?”
“Actually, in a school this size, I would have thought it would be more, you know?” I said.
Brian looped his arm around Jennica’s shoulder and pulled her close. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled. It was like they’d both forgotten I was there.
As I dumped my tray and made my way alone toward the doors of the cafeteria, I looked up and saw Sam midway across the room, eating lunch with a small group of popular seniors. Summer was gazing at him from two seats away. But his attention wasn’t on her. He was watching me.
Startled, I stopped for an instant longer than I should have. He raised his hand in a wave and smiled. Summer and a few of the others looked to see who he was waving at, then, apparently satisfied that it was no one important, they returned to their conversation.
• • •
As I walked down the street after school to the Plymouth Diner—about a half mile away—my heart was thudding so loudly that I was afraid everyone passing by would be able to hear it.
The restaurant was mostly empty, save for an elderly couple who were sitting on the same side of a booth, sharing an order of spaghetti and meatballs. I stood in the doorway for a moment, memories washing over me.
There was the booth in the back where we used to sit almost every Saturday; the waitresses knew to reserve it for us. I blinked a few times, images playing like a movie across the backs of my eyelids. Dad making airplane sounds and flying a spoon of oatmeal toward Tanner when he was little. Logan and Dad laughing and flinging whipped cream at each other from their strawberry pancakes, until a giant glob of white landed right on the tip of Dad’s nose. Dad cutting Tanner’s fried eggs into bite-sized pieces. Dad putting his arm around me and giving me an affectionate noogie with his other hand while I complained, pretending to hate it, even though I couldn’t hide my grin.
“Can I help you?” The hostess had appeared out of nowhere, someone I didn’t recognize. But it had been almost a year since we’d last been here. I didn’t know why I’d expected that the diner would be frozen in time, the way the memory of my dad was.
I asked for a table for five—just in case Logan and Mindy decided to show—and then waited nervously at the table.
The next seven minutes felt like an eternity. Finally a tiny girl with a mass of jet-black curls walked through the door and looked around, her eyes wide and unblinking. I recognized her immediately from her Facebook profile.
“Hi!” I exclaimed, hopping up. “Mindy?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Hey,” I said. A tidal wave of relief washed over me as she stepped closer. “I’m Lacey Mann. I’m the one who organized this.” I felt proud to say those words.
“Where is everyone?”
“You’re the first one here.”
“Oh.” She hesitated.
“Here, sit down,” I said before she could change her mind and bolt for the door. I couldn’t think of anything to say. Not without everyone else here. I didn’t want to get into anyone’s stories without the whole group present.
“So you’re a freshman, right?” I asked finally. The seconds ticked by.
“Yeah,” Mindy said.
“You like Plymouth East so far?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
Just then, the door opened and Kelsi strode in. “Hey,” she said, joining us. She sat down hard, throwing her book-laden backpack on the floor, where it landed with a loud thump.
Before I had the chance to say anything, the door opened again, and Cody came in, looking annoyed. “I’m here,” he said. He was tall and a little stoop-shouldered with long, dark hair that flopped over his piercing dark eyes. He pushed a shaggy shock of hair behind his ears and ducked his head.
“Hi,” I said. I felt immensely relieved; I realized I’d been expecting him not to show.
“This better not be dumb,” he muttered. I felt a tight feeling in my chest. In my head, this had all gone so well; everyone would be glad to be here, we’d laugh together and cry together and feel better at the end. But now I was beginning to wonder just how dumb that was.
“So I guess we can get started,” I said, suddenly unsure of how to begin.
“Whatever,” Cody said. “Can’t we order or something, though?”
We ordered Cokes and a few orders of fries to share. Just as we handed the waitress our menus, the door of the restaurant opened again, and Logan appeared in the slice of sunshine from outside, followed closely by Sydney. My jaw dropped.
“What’s up, man?” he said to Cody as he strode over to our table. He nodded at Kelsi and Mindy, throwing a “What’s up” their way, too. Since there was only one chair left, Logan grabbed one from another table and wedged it beside the empty one so that Sydney could sit next to him. She was eyeing me warily, a little smile on her face.
I could feel my blood boiling. “Logan, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level.
He shrugged. “Whatever.” But he allowed himself to be led away, back toward the entrance.
“I’m glad you came,” I said evenly. “But what’s Sydney doing here?”
“She’s with me,” he replied.
“I know
that,”
I said. “But this is a meeting for people whose parents have died. Sydney’s mom and dad are fine!”
Logan shrugged. He knew he was bugging me. “Yeah, well,” he said noncommittally.
“Can you maybe get rid of her for like an hour?” I asked. “And meet her after?”
Logan shook his head firmly, but I couldn’t help thinking he looked a tiny bit guilty. He glanced toward the table, where Sydney was standing, hands on her hips, lips pursed, watching us with narrowed eyes.
“She wanted to come with me,” he said. “And she’s my
girlfriend.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.”
Logan glanced at Sydney again and then back at me. He lowered his voice. “Seriously, Lacey, can you loosen up a little?”
“Whatever,” I muttered. I didn’t have the energy to fight.
We made our way back to the table, and Logan whispered something in Sydney’s ear. She giggled and the two of them sat down. Everyone looked at me expectantly. The waitress arrived with our Cokes, and Sydney and Logan ordered. I tried not to roll my eyes as Sydney asked for a sparkling water and a salad with low-cal dressing.
I took a long sip of my soda. “Hi,” I said. “I know we all know each other, but I thought maybe we could start today by going around and introducing ourselves briefly and saying why we’re here.”
Cody snorted. “I thought you said this wasn’t going to be like therapy.”
“I already went to grief counseling,” Mindy mumbled.
“I hated it.”
“Is that what this is?” Cody demanded. “Because if it is, I’m leaving.”
“No,” I said quickly. “It’s not like I expect us to sit around and talk about death, you know?” I glanced at Kelsi, and she looked away. “But for today, I thought it would be a good idea if we at least all know each other’s stories.”
The smirk slipped from Cody’s face. He looked down at his lap.
The rest of the group watched me in silence. I didn’t think it was my imagination that Sydney looked uncomfortable.
“Fine, I’ll go,” I said finally. I took a deep breath. “I’m Lacey Mann. I have two brothers, Logan and Tanner. My dad died in a car accident last November. We were all with him in the car. All of us except for my mom, I mean.”
I said the words matter-of-factly. I didn’t expect them to make me feel weird, because it wasn’t like they were anything new. These were all facts I had accepted. But there was a lump in my throat when I finished, and my eyes stung a little bit. “Logan?” I said. “Do you want to go next?”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked. “I have the same story as you.”
“Duh,” Sydney said under her breath.
“I just thought …,” I said. I stopped, because I wasn’t sure
what
I’d thought.
“I’ll go,” Cody said. “I’m Cody. My dad died in Iraq when I was in eighth grade.”
He paused, and I thought he was done. I was about to open my mouth to thank him when he spoke again.
“He was with his battalion,” Cody continued. “It was just a normal day. They were driving along a road. And then all of a sudden, a bomb went off in the road in front of them. They had driven over some wire and tripped it. The bomb totally ripped apart the convoy. A few other soldiers were hurt. But my dad died. Right there.”
He took a deep breath and then looked down at his lap.
It was Mindy who finally spoke. “That must have been really hard on you,” she said. “To have him so far away. And not be able to say goodbye.”
“Yeah, it sucked,” Cody said. He paused. “What happened to your mom?”
Something inside me lurched. It was working. The people around the table were talking.
“She died,” Mindy said simply. “Last year, when I was in eighth grade. She had been sick when I was younger. But the cancer went away, and we thought she was done with it. After a while, she stopped going to the doctor as often as she should have. And then, when they found it again, it was too late. It had already spread. She died really fast. I mean, in a couple of months. They tried chemo, but it didn’t work. My little sister and I were with her. We had to move in with my dad after. He and my mom were divorced.”
“Was he sad?” Kelsi asked in a soft voice.
“My dad?” Mindy asked, turning to her. Kelsi nodded. Mindy considered this for a minute. “I don’t know. I never saw him cry or anything. He told me and my sister he was sad. But he’s remarried. He has a new wife and a little baby now. I think it’s weird for him that we live with him.”
“Do you like your stepmom?” The question came from Logan. It surprised me that he was participating instead of mocking.
Mindy shook her head. “Not really. She’s really young. She doesn’t like us. Me and my sister, I mean.”
“That must be hard,” Cody said.
Mindy glanced at him. “Yeah,” she said. “It is. We don’t talk about my mom very often anymore. My dad gets uncomfortable when we bring her up.”
I caught her eye. “You can talk about her here,” I said.
“With us.”
Mindy smiled at me, a little sadly. “Yeah. I know.”
“My mom died,” Kelsi said in a tumble of words. “But you all know that.
Everyone
knows that. Don’t they?”
There was a brief silence, then Cody laughed. It sounded out of place after her somber declaration. I looked at him, startled.
“Yeah, we’re pretty much all famous,” he said. To my surprise, Kelsi laughed too.
“Everyone knows you,” Cody went on, “but no one knows what the heck to say to you.”
“Sure they do,” Kelsi said. She batted her eyelashes and adopted a high-pitched voice. “We’re
so
sorry!”
We all laughed. I hadn’t expected this. I was feeling better about this meeting idea every moment.
“Yeah,” Mindy chimed in. “And then they just stare at you. And avoid you. Because they don’t know what to say after that.”
Everyone laughed except Logan and Sydney. “That’s not true,” Sydney interjected. The laughter died down, and everyone looked at her. “People don’t do that.”
Cody narrowed his eyes. “Yeah they do.”
“You’re just being paranoid,” Sydney retorted.
“Really?” Cody shot back. “And what makes
you
the expert?”
Sydney’s face was turning red. “I’m just saying that I think you’re all blowing things out of proportion,” she said, her voice rising. She looked to Logan for support, but he was looking at his feet. “Besides, it’s not like anyone means badly by it.”
I hated to make things smoother for Sydney, especially when she didn’t belong here. But I also hated to have us fighting at the first meeting. So before Cody could reply, I cut in. “Sydney, I think Cody just means that people don’t know how to act around us,” I said. “Because they don’t know what to say.”
“Well, what are we supposed to do?” Sydney said. “Act like you’re some kind of royalty or something? Just because you had one bad thing happen to you?”
I stared at her. “None of us expect to be treated like
royalty
. We just want to be treated normally. And it’s not like having your parent die is just some random ‘bad thing,’ you know. It’s a huge deal.”
“Or maybe you’re just
making
it a big deal,” Sydney said. “Honestly, Lacey. I think this whole thing is a little silly. Don’t you?”