Get Happy (4 page)

I could’ve strangled him. I turned and gave him a private
thanks for inviting the competition
glare.

“All you guys did great,” she said, giving Hayes’s shoulders a squeeze. “I’m sure you’ll make it.”

Obviously regretting the fact that he had set me up for failure, Fin put his arm in mine and said: “It’s Minerva’s birthday. We have to sing!” Cassie and Hayes joined in, singing on the elevator ride down.

As we got out, Hayes said, “Wait. You need a
present.” He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a dime, a ticket stub, and a small flat stone, the kind you find at the lake. He put the stone into the palm of my hand. “Happy birthday.”

I smiled. “Gosh, you shouldn’t have.”

Cassie laughed.

We all headed out the front doors into a blast of freezing cold air. “It’s not just a stone,” he said. “It’s a … plate for tiny cakes.”

“A tiny cake plate?”

“Yes, it’s called a … plakette,” he said. “To go with your tiny violin and everything.”

Laughing, Cassie reached over with her slender fingers, bracelets jangling, and snatched the stone. “Aw, I had a Barbie dollhouse with tiny plates and tiny cakes.” Her heel hit an icy patch on the sidewalk and she slipped, grabbing Hayes to catch her balance. The stone flew out of her hand, was lit for a brief second by the gleam of the building’s landscaping floodlight, and then disappeared into a two-foot pile of snow that had been shoveled against a bush.

An awkward silence. I could see the tiny shadowy depression left in the snow precisely where the
stone had fallen through, and I was about to dig down through the snow to rescue it.

“I’m so sorry!” she said. “I hope it didn’t have sentimental value or anything?”

Hayes laughed and waved the whole thing off. It was just a joke, ha-ha. We all laughed. Ha, ha, ha. Not wanting to look foolish, I left the stone in its snowy grave.

Cassie pulled keys out of her purse. “Anybody need a ride?”

I wanted to say I don’t take rides from people who snatch birthday gifts, no matter how small, from other people’s hands, but I kept my mouth shut while Hayes and Fin both said yes at the same time.

The sun had gone down and the temperature had dropped with it.

“We
all
want a ride,” Fin said, looking at me pointedly, shivering. I tried to give him a look back, but he was already getting into the car. “Come on, Minerva.”

I love Fin, but he tends to put comfort above principles. I pretended that I wanted to walk — even though the Dead Sea salt itch was still working its way out the bottoms of my feet — and headed off before anybody could see my face.

I walked a block, composing a new song in my head.

When I opened my backpack to take out my songwriting journal, I saw the box with the necklace and the cards, and an angry black thundercloud of vermin, locusts, and murderous rage flew out.

The Kenneth Chip storm followed me all the way home.

4

“W
HERE WERE YOU?
I’ve been worried.” My mother pounced. “You didn’t answer your phone.”

“Fin took me to Pan Asia Café for my birthday.” The first in a string of lies.

“But I’m cooking a special dinner.”

“I only had sushi. I’m still hungry.” I stomped the snow off my boots, took off my coat, tried to smile, and told her I was going upstairs to get one little piece of homework done so I could relax.

“Where’s your sweater?” she asked.

I looked down at my green dress. “Oh … I left it in my locker. It was really hot in my last class.
I think the heater was stuck in the high position or something.”

She smiled. “Well, take good care of it. That is an expensive sweater, sweetie.”

“Yep. Will do.”

I didn’t tell her about the audition because I figured I wouldn’t make it and didn’t want her to worry in advance — she would assume Get Happy was a scam — and I had no idea how to bring up the fact that my dad had sent the gift, because she would freak. Little lies buy a little time.

As I took my backpack up to my room, my phone buzzed. Text from Fin. Call me!

He started talking as soon as I called. “I’m sorry about the Cassie thing, but you did really good, and I think we’re all — ”

“Fin, I can’t talk about this,” I whispered. “I’m freaking out.”

“Why? You’re going to make it!”

“Not about that. About this whole Kenneth Chip thing.”

“I can’t believe I forgot about that!” he said. “I’m sorry. Hold on.… I’m getting my laptop.”

“Wait, Fin — ”

He came back on. “I’m going to the Shedd Aquarium Web site.…”

I closed my eyes. “No. Don’t. I don’t want to know.”

“Hold on.… Here’s the staff page.… Nobody is popping up for Kenneth Chip. I don’t think he works there. Or if he does, he’s not important enough to be listed.”

“He’s probably a custodian,” I said. “He probably empties the trash bags.”

“Hold on.… I’m Googling ‘Kenneth Chip and Chicago.’… Nothing.” He went on. “There’s a Kenneth Chip in Orlando … a plumber.… Wait, it’s Kenneth Chip Hanson. I think Chip is his nickname — ”

“Dinner’s ready!” my mom called.

I told Fin to stop looking and said good-bye. I slipped the cards and necklace into the toe of this funky sheepherder-type boot that was under my bed. My mother wouldn’t touch that with a broom. Yes, when your mom has 24/7 access to your room, you have to be creative about where you hide things.

T
HAT WHOLE EVENING
, I acted as if nothing were wrong, but after midnight, I crept downstairs into the
dark kitchen. I remember the feeling in the air: It was as if the silence were a person in the room who was watching.

I turned on the computer and searched the Shedd Aquarium Web site. On the staff page, a dozen names were listed with their job titles, a short bio, and a photo after each name.
Jane Doe, President
, etc.

And then I got to this name —
Keanu Choy
— and I started having trouble breathing. The photo was a close-up of a guy treading water in a turquoise ocean, wearing scuba gear, smiling up at the camera, flawless brown skin, shining black hair, dark glittering almond-shaped eyes, a man who looked completely satisfied with his life.
VP Global Field Experiences and Director of SOS Project. Originally from Hawaii, Dr. Choy began his distinguished career with Shedd as an intern, just seventeen years ago. Specializing in the study of seahorses, he went on to found the Save Our Seahorse (SOS) Project. The Shedd Aquarium is delighted to be the new home of the SOS Project and to have Dr. Choy back on staff.

The hair, the eyes, the seventeen years ago, the seahorses.

I sat there in the dark, staring at his photo while the
refrigerator hummed and the house slept. Eventually, I texted Fin, but of course he was sleeping, too.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, I woke in a numb, exhausted fog. There was my mom drinking coffee at the sink, chattering about how much she liked the new color scheme at Crate & Barrel, which is where she works, and there I was, trying to pack my lunch, not knowing how to bring up the whole father subject. Then I noticed the bag of potato chips on the pantry shelf and blurted casually: “So I wonder where Kenneth Chip is these days?”

She dropped her coffee cup. With a crash, it hit the tile floor and shattered, coffee spraying the white cabinets.

“Why did you say that?” she asked, the panic on her face as obvious as the mess.

We stared at each other, not moving. It was as if I had pulled her to the edge of a cliff, and I was afraid that if I answered truthfully, it would be like shoving her off.

“I just saw the chips and it popped into my head.” It wasn’t a total lie. It wasn’t a total truth, either. I
grabbed a paper towel and started wiping up.

“Be careful, Minny!” She pulled my hand away and grabbed a sponge. Her hand was shaking. “I have no idea where your father is and there’s no need whatsoever to talk about that.” She carefully pushed pieces of the cup into a pile. “He is not worth the time of day.” She pulled the trash can over, started lifting the bigger pieces into it, and asked without looking: “It popped into your head because of the chips?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “Just now.”

She glanced at me. “Your father is not a nice person. If you let him in, he will hurt you. Promise me you will put him out of your mind.”

I nodded.

“Good.” She took a breath and stared at the splattered cabinets. “It’s staining. Go get the cleanser from the bathroom, the green one with bleach in it. We can get this clean.”

5

F
IN AND
I
SAT
on the concrete bench by the flagpole. We had only a few minutes before school started.

“Tell me everything,” he said. He blew into his bare hands to warm them up. “Did you show her the necklace?”

“No. Her brain would have exploded. She freaked at the mere mention of his name. And I think she’s lying about it.”

“What do you mean?”

I took a breath, the cold air slicing into my lungs. I explained about the Web site and discovering Keanu Choy. “He’s a Hawaiian seahorse expert.”

“Hawaiian?”

“I have the same hair and eyes.” Unfortunately, not the same skin.

“Hawaiian! I always thought you were half Japanese for some reason, but Hawaiian makes sense. Remember when we watched
Lilo and Stitch
, I said you looked like Lilo? Keanu Choy. I want that name. He sounds rich and exotic and cool.”

A bus pulled up and a load of annoyingly loud freshmen got out. I closed my eyes and pressed my mittened hands against them. “You don’t get it, Fin. He can’t be cool. Either she lied about his name to keep me from finding him, or else his name was Kenneth Chip and he changed it to Keanu Choy.”

“Why would he change his name?”