Reasons to Be Happy (17 page)

Izzy gave a witty,
quick
speech as she always did. Images from my time in Ghana flooded my brain. I swear I could even smell palm oil.

Izzy guided Modesta to the microphone where my friend spoke with poise as if she’d been doing this all her life. She thanked the glamorous crowd for caring about so many children without parents, for the attention and resources that would help these orphans be able to “lead our world into a better place.”

I sat there inspired to make up for the time I’d wasted.

Because of Modesta, I’d finally come up with a Make a Difference Project.

Jasper had shown my cities to his parents. They’d shown my cities to his Aunt Sena who had a gallery in Silver Lake. His Aunt Sena showed my cities to some clients who wanted to buy them. Buy them for ridiculous prices.

When that first one sold, I told Dad my idea. “I want to help pay for Modesta’s college.”

His face was unreadable. I told him all about the Make a Difference Project, how this would be
perfect
, since if Modesta became a doctor, she’d end up helping a bunch
more
people. “It would get the most mileage, you know? The ripple effect would be huge.”

Dad still didn’t speak. I jabbered on, over explaining, because I didn’t know what to make of his silence. “So, I could put all the money I make from selling the cities into an account for Modesta. I don’t know how all that would work yet, how to get money to her and all, but we could figure that out, right? I probably couldn’t pay for it all, but I could help. It would be nice if maybe for once she didn’t have to work so hard, you know?”

I ran out of words. Dad stared at me. Was he even listening to me? Did he think it was stupid?

“Dad?” I whispered.

“Hannah,” he choked out. “That’s beautiful. That’s so beautiful. I wish your mother were here to see this. She’d be so, so proud of you. You know what she’d say, don’t you?”

I nodded. Now
I
was the one unable to speak. I
did
know what she’d say. But what I’d never known before, though, was that pretty was also something you could
feel
.

But Dad had more news for me that day. My mom left a trust for me. A pretty big trust. Dad and I thought maybe we could help more than just Modesta. We could start a scholarship in Mom’s name for other girls too.

Modesta accepted our intervention on her behalf with a calm grace, but she had conditions of her own: she’d keep supplying me with Philomel’s figures for my cities, as well as beads and other trinkets from Ghana. I’d received a monthly package from her for the last two years.

As it turned out, Modesta might not need as much help from us as I’d originally worried. Her high academic scores had already earned her the promise of a scholarship in Accra.

Speaking of…my high school track coach had hinted I could probably run for a college team if I wanted. We’d see. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep running competitively, although I knew I’d run—for myself—until my legs couldn’t do it anymore.

Bebe’d joined the track team too. We weren’t, by any stretch of the imagination, real
friends
, but she was the first leg of the mile relay, and I was the last. She’d set a blistering pace, and I’d close any gaps the middle two legs allowed. Together we were unstoppable. She’d defected from the B-Squad a month or so after I did. That surprised me. I’d expected Brittany to leave, but she stuck by Brooke even now.

Leaving had been so much easier than I ever dreamed. Once I broke away, Brooke just ignored me. What had I really expected to happen? What had kept me afraid for so, so long?

• • •

Once Aunt Izzy collected her Oscar, the ceremony seemed to be moving at fast forward.

Best Supporting Actor came up.

Dad leaned over to whisper into my hair, “Remember, be polite. They might film our reaction if Kevin wins.”

Oh, yeah. Did I forget to mention that? Kevin was nominated too. I guess I was just focusing on the
good
parts.

Kevin hadn’t even
looked
at me at school for the rest of eighth grade. The first time I saw him after that nurse’s office talk with Dad, Kevin froze in his tracks. I swear the expression that crossed his face was
fear
. He practically fled from me. I begged my dad to tell me what he’d said to Kevin, but he always stuck to his story: “I just told him to leave you alone.”

“But
how
did you say it? What did you
do?
”

He’d sigh and laugh, then step close to my face and half-whisper like Clint Eastwood, “Leave my daughter the hell alone.”

And Kevin had
done
it.

Then, this past summer before we were sophomores, Kevin had caused a drunk driving accident of his own. His scandal splashed all over the tabloids and entertainment shows. His parents hustled him into rehab.

One day last fall, Dad had come into my room and said, “I know you’re no fan of Kevin. And I’m not either. But I think I might be able to help him. I’d like to go talk to him in rehab, if that’s okay with you.”

I couldn’t believe Dad was asking my permission, but I loved him for it.

I kind of understood why Dad had wanted to help Kevin too.

I’d felt the same way about Brooke.

Brooke had changed freshman year, and not for the better. I’d been forced to be her lab partner once and had seen the faint scars on her forearms as she handled the microscope. Whatever. I hadn’t lost too much sleep over it, but months later I came across her in the bathroom during a class period (I was in there, honest to God, to simply pee). She stood at the sink, shirt hiked up exposing her midriff, a paper towel pressed to her ribs. The terror on her face when she wheeled to see who it was broke my heart. “What are you staring at?” she’d asked.

I could’ve said, “I’m staring at the bloody paper towel you’re holding.”

I could’ve said, “I’m staring at the fact that you obviously hurt yourself.”

I could’ve said, “I’m staring at the fact that you have a serious problem.”

But I didn’t.

I just shut myself in a stall to pee.

When I came out, the red-splotched paper towels on top of the trash were the only evidence she’d been there.

Weeks later, I went to the counselor to explain what I knew. It was then I understood why Dad had gone to see Kevin.

Once you’ve been there yourself, once you’ve been so lost, miserable, and fumbling, and you’ve managed to crawl your way out, you can’t help but want to help others who are as buried as you once were. No matter how hideous she’d been to me, I knew what she was going through was
more
hideous. She’d just chosen a different way of hurting herself than I had.

At the Oscars, they showed a clip of Kevin from
Blood
Roses
and I fell for it
again
, just like I had when I’d seen the full film. When I’d attended the premiere with Dad, I’d tried to resist liking Kevin’s performance at all, bracing myself to criticize it later. But the creep was very talented. I believed every word he said on screen. And those eyes—those eyes that had filled my brain with white noise—well, their affect was amplified on the big screen. It wasn’t fair. Why should someone so scummy get so much talent?

I caught myself clapping at the end of the clip in spite of myself.

Guess who won?

I rose to my feet along with Dad, smiling and clapping, even though I seethed inside. I’d wanted
anyone
else
in that category to win besides Kevin.

As Kevin went to the podium, Modesta leaned toward me and said, “He is beautiful.”

I made a face and whispered, “Only on the outside.”

Modesta raised her magnificent eyebrows. I saw her remembering our conversation at the village pump. She tipped her head toward Kevin asking,
Him?

I nodded.

Dad tapped my knee.
Be
polite
.

Kevin at the podium wasn’t at all like the Kevin in the swimming pool…but, then again, he was an
actor
and very skilled at pretending to be someone else. As he thanked everyone who had helped him, he was humble and even sheepish.

“But there’s one person I need to thank above all others,” Kevin said, drawing to a close. His voice grew husky. “I don’t think I’d be alive today if it weren’t for Caleb Carlisle.”

I felt as if the breath had been punched out of my stomach.

Dad squeezed my hand.
The
cameras
are
on
us
, he was reminding me.

“Caleb is a survivor,” Kevin said. “An amazing man. He stepped up to the plate when I was in trouble and even though he didn’t have any reason to—and believe me, he
really
didn’t have any reason to”—this he delivered with a self-deprecating laugh—“he
helped
me. He’s a great actor and an even greater man and I will always,
always
be grateful to him. Thank you.”

The place went wild. Standing ovation. I knew that the ovation was for my father, not just Kevin.

When we went to commercial break, Modesta said, “That was beautiful,” of Kevin.

“Yes,” I had to agree, “it was.”

• • •

Finally, finally, as we grew terrifyingly close to the fourth hour of the ceremony, the Best Actor category was called. Third to last, with only Best Director and Best Film to go. I thought I’d felt sick over the documentary, but it was nothing compared to the I’m-so-nervous-I-can’t-breathe-or-swallow sensation that gripped me now.

They showed the clips. Oh, man, every single actor was so, so good. But please, oh,
please
let my dad get this!

He didn’t.

It’s so weird how everything leading up to a certain moment can be so intense, so crucial, so life-or-death—this feeling of he
has
to win. It’s the only thing that can happen!

Then it doesn’t.

And you know what?

Everything is okay.

When they announced that Sean had won this year’s award for Best Actor, I looked at my dad and he was genuinely happy for his best friend.

But more importantly, I looked at my dad and saw he was genuinely happy
in
general
.

So was I.

Even better was the fact that, as we looked at each other, I knew we were thinking the same thing. We were happy. We’d survived.

We didn’t need a little bald gold man to tell us that.

• • •

You know what else I realized later, after we finally left the parties where Dad had to put in an appearance, and met up with Izzy and Modesta back at Jasper’s house? I didn’t need my list anymore either.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m not throwing it away. It’s a wonderful reminder of all I have to be grateful for. But as I stood there, overflowing with happiness, accepting a kiss from my smart, funny boyfriend, I knew there were
too
many
reasons to write down.

Having a tribe of good family and friends

Helping someone

Accepting help yourself

Forgiving someone

Forgiving yourself

Someone snapped a picture of me with Jasper.
Feeling
beautiful
.

So, so many reasons right here in this room.

Buttered popcorn

Theme parties

Jasper’s big fat cat Jazz

The Parmesan-artichoke dip Jasper’s mom makes

Putting on a pair of cozy jeans after being dressed up too long

Sitting with a bunch of friends snuggled on a couch with your legs all entwined

But the most important one?
Knowing
who
you
are.

“Hey, we should make a toast!” I called. I raised my Sprite. “In Modesta’s beautiful words, here’s to ‘leading our world into a better place.’”

Making a difference.

Have I put
Kissing
on my list?

Let’s not forget
kissing.

1. Swimming with dolphins

2. Outrunning a forest fire

3. A hot air balloon ride

4. Seeing a shark fin while surfing but making it back to the shore intact

5. Hiking by moonlight

6. Making lists

7. Jumping on a trampoline in the rain

8. Ghost stories

9. Painting your toenails

10. Winning a race

11. Dark chocolate melting in your mouth

12. Pad Thai so spicy hot it makes your nose run

13. The way frosted grass crunches under your feet

14. Big wool sweaters

15. Exploring attics and basements

16. Fang-like icicles that make whole houses look like monster mouths

17. The way a knitted scarf gets crusty with ice when you breathe through it while you’re sledding

18. Making snow angels

19. The Styrofoam squeak your shoes make on really cold snow

20. The smell of Band-Aids

21. Cat purr vibrating through your skin

22. Hiking with Dad up on Arroyo Seco and seeing a mountain lion at dusk

23. Vampires

24. Playing with the rubbery residue after you let glue dry on your fingers

25. Running my hands through a barrel of beads

26. The way your skin smells when you’ve been in the sun

27. Pirates

28. Aunt Izzy’s purple house

29. An ice cream cone on a really hot day

30. Ice cold milk and Oreo cookies

31. Rainbows

32. Naps just because you have time to take them

33. Tandem bikes

34. Postcards from friends in cool places

35. Beach glass

36. Orange bougainvillea

37. Really great thrift stores

38. Chocolate-dipped strawberries

39. Rock climbing

40. The way ducks sound like they’re chuckling

41. The scent of vanilla

42. Revenge movies

43. The word “peevish” (I just like it)

44. Manatees

45. The way patriotic marches played by whole orchestras make me feel like I’m going to cry

46. Flannel sheets

47. Wearing pajamas to school

48. The word “serendipity”

49. Finding surprise stuff inside boxes at yard sales

50. Cashmere against your skin

51. Sleeping in on rainy mornings

52. Real whipping cream

53. Silly Putty

54. Slinkies

55. Hammocks

56. Running hurdles when you hit your stride just right

57. Icing sugar cookies

58. Lemon meringue pie

59. Gnawing on buttery crab legs, feeling like a real carnivore

60. Catching a fish

61. Old-fashioned keys (and wondering what they open)

62. Sun through stained glass windows

63. Blowing soap bubbles

64. Blowing bubblegum bubbles

65. Those great vivid first seconds of a brand new piece of bubblegum

66. Finally seeing a trailer for a movie you’ve been waiting for

67. That screeching sound of packing tape

68. Dogs wearing sweaters

69. Finger painting (especially when you know you’re “too old” to be doing it)

70. The smell of Play-Doh

71. Sand under your bare feet

72. Seeing a shooting star

73. Riding the front car of a roller coaster

74. Raw cookie dough

75. Glitter

76. Watching documentaries

77. Root beer floats

78. The smell of crayons

79. Blowing out birthday candles

80. Extra stuff after the credits at the movies

81. Those cool old-fashioned diaries with locks and keys

82. Popping bubble wrap

83. Autumn leaves changing color

84. Haunted houses

85. Making jack-o’-lanterns

86. Trick-or-treating

87. Wearing a costume

88. The scuttle sound autumn leaves make on the sidewalk

89. Getting yourself all freaked out after a scary movie

90. Warm, fluffy towels straight out of the dryer

91. The skin on top of pudding

92. That smell when the first drops of rain hit concrete

93. Dancing like an idiot when no one is watching

94. Cinnamon and sugar on butter-soggy toast

95. Rubbing velvet the wrong way

96. Remembering dreams

97. Playing hooky with Mom

98. Catching a snowflake on your tongue

99. Laughing so hard you cry

100. Lambs

101. The sound of water lapping on the shore

102. The way Mom gave me butterfly kisses with her eyelashes when I was little

103. That lemon meringue lotion she used, so she always smelled like dessert

104. The way she called me beautiful

105. The way she’d actually listen

106. Mom’s smile when I walked into the room

107. The way she called me Hannah Banana

108. The look on her face the times I watched her studying my cities when she didn’t know I was looking

109. Our beach glass door frame in moonlight

110. Mom’s dorky birthday poems

111. The way Mom sang off-key to the car radio

112. The way Mom always smiled and never rushed her fans when they approached her

113. Dreams where my mom is still alive and healthy

114. BLUE ICING!

115. Being safe

116. Having a home

117. Never having been physically harmed by anyone

118. Having my entire body intact

119. The sounds of the rain forest at night

120. Fresh, hot (from the sun) pineapple out of the shell

121. Friends you can trust

122. Children singing in another language

123. Doing something you haven’t done in a really long time that you’ve really missed

124. Having more than you need

125. Seeing an elephant (not in a zoo)

126. Drum music

127. Weaver birds

128. That mouthwatering, stomach-growling aroma of grilling meat

129. Kissing

130. Perfect, unique, special personal gifts

131. A good run when you feel like you’re floating

132. Being in love

133. Kissing

134. Finding a live starfish and tossing it back in the water before it’s too late

135. Watching Dad bake fresh bread

136. The aroma of rosemary

137. Finding money you forgot about in your coat pocket

138. Sprinkles Cupcakes in Beverly Hills

139. Sun-dried laundry

140. The cool side of the pillow

141. Snapdragons

142. Girl Scout cookies

143. Spending hours in a book store

144. Receiving handwritten, personal mail

145. Receiving handwritten, personal mail from a foreign country

146. Sunday morning waffles

147. Fun jitters on race days

148. Hiking in the rain

149. Sleeping under the stars

150. Picnics

151. Polka dots

152. The smell of leather

153. Working your butt off for a test, then acing it

154. Cute videos of kittens when you’re having a stressful day

155. Fireworks

156. When your favorite song comes on in the car

157. White water rafting

158. Building sand castles

159. Indian food

160. Learning to make Indian food yourself

161. Learning a foreign language

162. The sound of anyone speaking Italian

163. Making homemade ice cream

164. Dr. Seuss

165. Cool museums

166. Splashing in puddles

167. Field trips from school!

168. Really good hair days

169. Beating your personal best in track

170. Sitting in a hot tub after running

171. Full body massages

172. Pumpkin pie

173. Roasting marshmallows over a campfire

174. Old photo albums

175. Puppies

176. The aroma of coffee

177. Hot cocoa with little marshmallows

178. Watching old black-and-white movies

179. Cotton candy

180. Ferris wheels

181. Henna tattoos

182. Finding a four-leaf clover

183. Love letters

184. Feeling strong

185. Trapeze artists

186. Homemade Valentines

187. Eating with chopsticks

188. Sushi

189. Wasabi

190. Holding Sean and Laila’s newborn baby

191. The sound of a baby laughing

192. The sound of my father laughing

193. Watching the Olympics

194. The thick, sweet syrup at the bottom of a Sno-Cone

195. Eating peanuts at a baseball game

196. Jasper’s music

197. Good movie versions of your favorite books

198. When dewdrops hang on spider webs and look like diamonds

199. New Year’s resolutions

200. A kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve

201. Fog

202. People-watching in airports

203. People-watching at zoos

204. That sweet anticipation waiting to see someone you love in an airport

Having a tribe of good family and friends

Helping someone

Accepting help yourself

Forgiving someone

Forgiving yourself

Feeling beautiful

Buttered popcorn

Theme parties

Jasper’s big fat cat Jazz

The Parmesan-artichoke dip Jasper’s mom makes

Putting on a pair of cozy jeans after being dressed up too long

Sitting with a bunch of friends snuggled on a couch with your legs all entwined

Making a difference

Kissing