Push Girl (16 page)

Jack’s face grew redder and redder as I filled him in. “How does this guy still have a job? My God,” he said as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “That’s not true, Kara. You know it’s not true.”

But before I had a chance to reply, Mrs. Mendoza walked into the room, holding a coffee mug the size of her head. “Oh, good morning, Kara. Nice to see you.” I watched as her eyes darted from my face, down to my legs, and back to my face again, wrapping up with the head tilt. Like, did people think my legs would have disappeared? Or they would be all shriveled up? Or I would suddenly stand up and tap dance? I don’t know what they expected, but they always looked.

“I think I’m going to take my name off the nomination list for Homecoming.” I’d been hoping my voice would sound decisive and commanding, but instead it shook and came out at almost a whisper.

“You are?” She put down her coffee and leaned over the counter that separated us, resting on her elbows and looking at me with concern. “Why?”

“She’s not,” Jack said, and he actually grabbed the back of my chair and started to push me away. “She’s kidding. Very funny, Kara. Let’s go.”

“Don’t you dare,” I said through gritted teeth. “Move me back.”

He righted my chair and let out a defeated sigh. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll be outside.”

“Are you sure about this, Kara?” Mrs. Mendoza said after Jack went back outside to continue his posters.

I nodded. “I’m sure water polo is just leaving me on the ballot to be nice.” Nice wasn’t the word I’d use to describe my last encounter with the water polo team, but Mrs. Mendoza didn’t need to know that. “They nominated me before the accident because I was Curt Mitchell’s girlfriend. But Curt and I aren’t together anymore, and I think they feel bad taking me off.” This was way too much information to share with a teacher, but for some reason I couldn’t stop talking.

“Okay, if you insist.” Mrs. Mendoza picked up a clipboard from her desk. “I’m sure they left you on the list because they wanted you representing them—”

“More likely they just forgot.” I let out a humorless laugh that sounded more like a snort.

She took a big sip from her coffee. “So, I’m going to take you off the list as water polo’s nominee and let them know they need to pick someone new. And you’ll be officially out of the running for Homecoming Queen.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

I remembered the feeling of excitement that flooded me back when Curt told me I was their nominee. Homecoming was something I’d always secretly hoped for and never thought would actually happen. Since it was a ridiculous dream to begin with, it wasn’t so hard to give it up now.

“I’m sure,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.

I flinched as she crossed out my name.

That was it. The last of Old Kara, gone. Kara who was a dancer and who had a boyfriend and who had a chance of being Homecoming Queen and having a normal senior year and a normal life. That Kara was finally eliminated with one drunk driver to the side of the car and one firm stroke of ballpoint pen across what was left.

Jack waited for me outside the activities room, and when I came through the door, he was angry. I could tell by the wrinkle between his eyes.

But I was angry, too.

“How dare you try to move me without my permission, Jack. Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“I’m sorry about that, Kara. I really am.” He let out a sigh. “But I didn’t want to see you make a mistake.”

“Taking my name off the ballot isn’t a mistake. It’s my choice. Just like where I want to be and where I want to go is my choice. Not yours.”

He stared at his Converse for a few seconds before he looked back up at me, his face hardened. “You know they’re just going to nominate Jenny Roy in your place.” He pretty much spat her name out.

I rolled my eyes. I was in no mood for his drama. “I told you at the mall that I didn’t really want to do it. I let you talk me into thinking that I could be normal, that this would all be normal. But we both know it won’t be, Jack, and I don’t want to pretend that it will. Even as Kara 2.0, I’m not Homecoming material. Everyone knows that.”

“God, Kara, it’s not like you’re damaged goods. And I know you. There’s no way you’re okay with just handing Jenny Roy something that should be yours.”

“Actually, it’s perfect,” I said bitterly. “Now everyone gets what they want, right? Water polo doesn’t have to regret nominating me or feel guilty for taking me off, Jenny Roy gets her moment of Homecoming glory, and I get to not get stared at and humiliated in front of the whole school. Win–win–win.”

“Kara, you know—”

“Just leave it, okay, Jack? I’ve obviously disappointed you, but this is how it is. Awful Mr. David is right for once. I have no business being on Homecoming Court. I don’t want everyone’s pity, and I’d rather just let it go. Can you respect that? Please?”

Jack blinked a few times and pulled his lips tight into a line. He let out a long breath and said, “Fine. I’m sorry.” I didn’t see what he did after that, because the bell rang, so I turned myself around and pushed on to my first class with one less thing on my mind. Now I could go back to trying my hardest to disappear into the crowd.

CHAPTER 15

In an effort to fake some normalcy and family togetherness, Mom and I spent most evenings on the couch. We watched trashy reality TV with Logan curled up between us while I worked on my homework and looked at videos on the Internet until Dad got home and pretended that everything was exactly as it should be. Tonight I was boycotting Mr. David’s
Pride and Prejudice
homework out of spite; Mom and I were both quiet, staring at the screen while Logan snored away. None of us had expected the doorbell, and when it rang, Logan let out two enthusiastic barks, Mom’s head swung toward me, and she opened her mouth for just a second but closed it quickly.

“You were going to ask me to get it, weren’t you?” It was supposed to be a joke, and I tried to smile at my mom. I mean, sometimes I forgot I wasn’t the only one who had to adjust to the independence that I’d lost with my legs. Sure, I could get the door, but Mom would have to get up and pull my chair closer so I could scoot myself into it. By the time I got in my chair and got over there, the people at the door would probably start getting impatient, and it would be way easier for Mom to just get the door herself. So, I tried to make a joke about it. But I could tell as I looked at her reaction that my tone was all wrong and my face was all wrong and that somehow my joke and my smile got messed up somewhere between my head and my mouth.

Mom pushed herself up from the couch and didn’t look at me. “Of course not, Kara.”

From the entryway, I could hear a muffled “Surprise!” and Mom laughing, and a few seconds later she returned to the TV room with Jack and Amanda, who was carrying a huge pizza box. Logan, who had jumped off the couch with Mom, was trailing close behind the food, tail wagging enthusiastically.

“Look who stopped by for dinner,” Mom said in a fake-cheery voice. “Now I can tell your father not to rush home.” Her voice strained when she mentioned my dad, and I wondered how much had been going on behind the scenes between the two of them lately. The blankets were still folded by the couch, but if the two of them were still fighting, at least they weren’t doing it in front of me anymore.

“We figured you could use some dinner,” Amanda said. She disappeared into the kitchen with the pizza, and Mom followed behind her, offering to help.

“Hey,” Jack said. He lurked in the entrance to the TV room, shifting from one foot to the other. Speaking of strained, things had been bumpy between us since the Homecoming debacle, and I hadn’t made too much of an effort to ease the bumpiness. I wondered if him showing up out of the blue like this was some sort of peace offering.

“Hey,” I said. “Why don’t you sit down instead of standing there all awkward? We’re watching trashy reality TV.”

Jack smiled. I guess I’d said the right thing, because the awkwardness melted off of him. Well, the extra awkwardness, anyway.

He settled into the couch next to me. “So, what terrible show is this?”

I patted the empty space between us, and Logan hopped up, stepped over a stray pillow, and curled himself up in my lap. I scratched the soft fur between his ears. “This dude is looking for love, and all of the girls are wearing masks and fat suits, so he has to judge them based on personality.”

“Are you serious? This can’t really be a thing.”

“I swear. It’s so ridiculous, but we can’t look away. It’s like a—” I’d almost said it was like a car wreck. That was a saying I should probably weed out of my vocabulary.

I caught Jack up on the events of the awful reality show as Amanda and Mom came back in the room with plates of pizza and glasses of soda. We finished the dumb show and started another one, and we laughed and talked and for a little bit I even forgot about my legs because I was sitting on the couch eating pizza with my friends and my mom and my dog, just like before the accident.

I should have known it wouldn’t last long.

“So, Amanda, how is everything going with your video production class?” Mom had always been interested in Amanda’s video stuff. And Jack’s involvement in Student Government and leadership. And, of course, Dance Mom-ing me like she was the one up onstage.

“Oh, it’s great!” Amanda launched into a rundown of her latest video projects as I ate my pizza and zoned out. I was pretty interested in Amanda’s videos, but she’d filled me in on what she was up to at the mall on Saturday, so I didn’t need to hear it all again.

“That sounds fascinating,” Mom said while Jack and I rolled our eyes at each other. “What will you be working on next?”

“Well—” She wiped the pizza grease off her face with her napkin and kept on talking. She always got so into her projects. “—my media teacher is pushing me to enter this statewide video contest that has a big scholarship prize. It’s all about teens being active and stuff, so he suggested I do something with the cross-country team at school.” She let out a dramatic sigh as she leaned over and slid her empty pizza plate onto the table. “I don’t know, though. I mean, I know nothing about running. I hate running. I wish I never even had to think about running.”

I don’t know what it was about her comment, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. Without even thinking, I snapped, “Well, at least you have the option to run if you want to.”

She reacted as if I’d slapped her, and in a way I had. But she’d sort of slapped me, too, with her casual condemnation of something she took for granted and I so desperately wanted. To be honest, I’d always hated running, too. The happiest day ever was when I completed my PE credits after sophomore year and no longer had to run the dreaded mile at school. “I only run if someone is chasing me,” I told people with a laugh when they told me they liked to run for fun.

But now that I
couldn’t
run, not even if someone was chasing me, it seemed like a precious thing. I’d give anything to be able to whine about running again. And here she was complaining about it.

Amanda waved her hands around, like she was trying to shoo her comment out of the room. “Oh, Kara, I didn’t mean—”

“Kara.” Mom’s voice was quiet, but the look in her eye was a warning. She lifted herself up from her place on the couch and busied herself clearing her plate, leaving me to deal with the tension that was growing by the second. I watched her as she retreated to the kitchen; then I turned to Jack, who looked like he was about to say something, too.

I felt cornered.

“Well, it’s true,” I said to Jack before he had a chance to join the pile on me. “It sucks to hear people complain all the time about walking too much or running or ‘OMG, my feet hurt, I wish I could chop them off.’ I mean, my God, do you know what I would give to have my feet hurt?”

“I’m
so
sorry, Kara,” Amanda said. “I really didn’t mean to—”

“I know you didn’t mean to. You didn’t even think about it, right? You didn’t think about walking through the gate at school without me or going up the escalator at the mall. You never think about what you can do and I can’t.”

Jack still didn’t say anything. He stared down at his knees, frowning. But Logan must have sensed the drama because he let out a low growl, hopped off my lap, and ran down the hall, probably to hide under my bed. I wished I could have gone with him, because I didn’t even know where any of this was coming from. I hated confrontation, but I also hated how very different I was feeling lately—even though I was still completely myself, and how none of the people closest to me seemed to understand.

“Kara, that’s not nice.” Jack’s voice was tight and quiet in the loudest of ways.

I knew in my heart he was right. I was being mean for no reason, and I should apologize to Amanda. But something about him, again, trying to tell me what I should say and how I should feel made me even more upset. Old Kara would have just walked away or stormed out of the room. But now, since I was stuck on the couch for the time being, I just lost it. I couldn’t leave; I had all these people telling me what to do. I couldn’t handle it anymore. “Amanda’s the one who was being insensitive.”

It wasn’t what I meant to say. Not really. It was like words were pouring from my mouth and I couldn’t adjust the faucet.

“You know what, Kara?” Amanda stood up. Her voice shook and her cheeks were flushed. “I have done nothing but be here for you since your accident.”

“No one made you—”

“I know no one made me. But that’s what friends do. I went to the hospital every day because you are my best friend. I brought you flowers and magazines and made sure you never got lonely and never thought twice about any of it because my best friend could have died and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else or being anywhere else.”

I sank back into the couch, the force of her words piling on top of me, pushing me down into the cushions. Amanda and I hadn’t fought since third grade, when I accidentally left her back door open and her cat Curry wandered outside. Her family couldn’t find him for two days, and she spent those forty-eight hours alternating between calling me horrible names and ignoring me. But when Curry showed up with a dead lizard in his mouth on their front porch by the weekend, it was like it had never happened, and we’d never fought again.