Sticks & Stones (9 page)

Unless, of course, Snotty Ami tells her about CAV before I do and ruins everything.

I can't tell her yet. I started to, but then Farrah turned the music up.

I probably could have tried again, but I didn't.

Yeah, so I chickened out. What about it?

Anyway, updated goals:

1. Remember that I like Nice Andy.

2. Convince Mr. Todd that I am perfectly capable of being the Explorer Leader.

3. Stop looking at Liam, and listening to him breathe, and being mad when he talks to girls who are not me.

4. Stop being weird (and calling myself weird, because now
WEIRD
has popped up
again
and it is really
not
a good time). Stop thinking, and focus on how I can get Explorer Leader!

From,

November Self

*   *   *

I threw my notebook in my purse in the nick of time. Dad slammed on the brakes in front of the big Soup Palace sign, and I unbuckled my seat belt.

“So?” I asked, adjusting my long-sleeved light green sweater dress to make the sleeves go as far down as they could. Nice Andy obviously wouldn't care about my words, but you never knew about strangers. “How do I look?”

Dad's face froze. “Um … you look, uh, light green!”

I rolled my eyes. “Duh, Dad.”

“Have fun,” he said as I got out of the car, shut the door, and took a deep breath. I wasn't nervous, exactly, but I wasn't excited, either. “Love you.”

“Love you. Bye.” I went inside, where Nice Andy was waiting for me at the table closest to the door.

“Do you believe our parents let us go on a real date!”

“Uh, yeah, no. Pretty cool,” I said. Only it wasn't pretty cool at all, or even a little cool. I had only agreed to it because he wanted to go to Soup Palace, and they have the best beef stew I've ever had in my entire life. Dad only agreed to it because Mom convinced him that it was just hanging out with a friend, plus she gave me extra money to bring home some amazing beef stew for him. He loved it almost as much as I did.

Nice Andy probably didn't need to know that.

“So what would you do if you had a million dollars?” Nice Andy asked after we had taken our soup back to our table, like it was a perfectly normal topic of conversation.

Buy a way out of this date,
I said in my head. And all the beef stew I could eat. Out loud, I said, “I don't know. Give some to my mom and dad. Get some books. Maybe buy a candy store or two. Or”—my eyes grew wide—“buy a soup store! This soup store! Yes! Then I could have free beef stew anytime I wanted it.”

He slurped his soup thoughtfully. I had never seen someone take such teeny spoonfuls before. We were going to be there until midnight, easily. I fidgeted in my seat.

“I think I'd get a time travel machine! Maybe see some history with my own eyes and try to help end wars and solve mysteries and stuff! And go back in time to relive the amazing day of my Explorer Leader interview!” He got a dreamy look in his eyes. “I can't believe Mr. Todd still hasn't told us who's going on to the next round! How long does it take to get recommendations from teachers?”

“I know. It's so annoying. Maybe he's waiting to announce it at the fund-raising show or something.” I stared down into my almost-empty bowl. Was it time to go home yet? Things should end when I want them to end.

“Oh yeah! I bet he is! My interview was so awesome,” he said, totally not picking up on my I-don't-want-to-talk-about-this vibe. “Mr. Todd said there were lots of great candidates! But he thought my responses were really enthusiastic! I don't know exactly what he meant by that, but I think it's a good sign!”

“Cool,” I said. I thought about how excited he'd been after his interview, and how a teeny-tiny part of me had hoped his had gone badly, even worse than mine, just so I could know that that was possible. Even now, a couple of weeks later, the same mean thought was still nagging at me. I tried extra hard to push it away.

When I finally got Dad's text—
Here! Hope you're having a SOUPER fun time in there!
—I practically tripped over my feet and flew through the door because I was out of there so fast. I didn't even get Dad's soup.

“I'll text you!” Nice Andy yelled as I slammed the car door.

“Go, Dad, go!” I cried, like we were in a race or something.

Dad went.

“Was it fun?” he asked.

“It was … fun-ish,” I said. “I don't know. I kinda wish it had been Olivia there instead of Andy.”

Dad smiled. “I'm glad you've made a nice new friend.” Then he started talking about the weather.

I closed my eyes, letting Dad's soft voice soothe me like a lullaby. I was happy that the night was over and I'd be home soon. Maybe Nice Andy would take the hint and be a little less annoying. I mean, if a girl is having a better time with her beef stew than she is with you, that has to tell you something.

Maybe he'd had a bad time, too. Maybe he was at his house right now thinking about how even though he liked my words, he didn't like me. I kinda hoped so.

But less than an hour after I walked in the door, there was his name attached to a new text on my phone:

i had so much fun with u. u are so awesome and cool!
  ☺  
if u were an ice cream flavor what flavor would u be?
  ☺

What was so hard about leaving me alone? I would be leave-me-alone ice cream!

But then I looked at it again. He had called me awesome. And cool. I couldn't remember the last time someone had called me awesome and cool, let alone in the same sentence. And it felt pretty nice. It felt
really
nice, actually.

It was one thing for him to think CAV was cool and be way too nice to me about it. But if he wanted to be super-complimentary about it, well, he could go right ahead.

I responded:

Strawberry
  ☺

I put my phone away, just as
AWESOME
replaced
UNLOVABLE
, and
COOL
settled in right above
LOSER
, which was a little lighter than it had been yesterday. I moved my arm back and forth. It felt much better. In fact, my whole body did. Thanks to Nice Andy, this could possibly be a No-Cream Night for the first time in months!

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Plus, everyone knew that it was better to have a goofy boyfriend than no boyfriend at all. So I guess Nice Andy could stay.

 

15

THE SHOW

The next day in English, I said hi to Olivia and took my seat. She wiggled her shoulders at me and giggled. It was one of the many so-bad-they're-good new dance moves we had invented at her house. Maybe the shoulder shake could be our secret greeting. I did it back to her, and it made me giggle so hard that I didn't notice Ms. Sigafiss staring at me from the front of the room.

“Elyse, I have a note for you,” she said after a minute. “It was in my mailbox in the office this morning.”

“Elyse, Teacher has a note for you!” Kevin repeated in a loud voice, causing everyone to burst into hysterics.

“I think she heard me the first time,” Ms. Sigafiss said, glaring at him. “I'd be careful if I were you, Mr. Bata. I happen to know you've shown interest in being on the sixth-grade baseball team this spring. I would hate for that opportunity to be jeopardized.”

While everyone looked at Kevin for his reaction, I looked at Jeg. This had to be a little distressing to her, seeing her boyfriend get threatened like that.

Sure enough, her face had concern scribbled all over it. I wanted to remind her that Kevin was really tough. He could handle things, and he'd never
actually
get in that much trouble from one little comment. But then I remembered that reminding Jeg about this kind of stuff was up to her new friends now, the friends she'd chosen over me.

So instead of looking at Jeg and trying to help her calm down with my mind, I looked at the piece of blue paper in my hand that Ms. Sigafiss had given me and began to unfold it. My gut knew what it was, but my brain couldn't believe it, even when I opened it and saw the familiar typed letters.

Elyse, ever thought about performing in the fund-raising show? It might get you one step closer to being Explorer Leader, but more important, wouldn't it be cool to hear everyone clapping for you up on stage? There's still a week left to sign up and two weeks until the show. Don't wait!

What the high heels?
I opened my mouth, then closed it. I folded up the paper and stuffed it in my pocket. Nope. This one was just not gonna happen.

*   *   *

I realized too late that stuffing things in your pockets, if you're me, is a terrible idea considering how much Mom does laundry.

So I really shouldn't have been surprised when, the next night, she held up the crumpled piece of paper and asked all casually (like she hadn't been waiting to ask me this question the whole entire day), “What's this?”

Luckily the paper had ripped a little, so all she had was the part that said “performing in the fund-raising show” and not the part that was like “one step closer to being Explorer Leader.” That whole thing would have been kinda hard to explain.

Of course, she insisted we go back to Dr. Patel's right away.

“I think it would be great for you to be in the show, sweetie,” Mom told me in the car, “but I think we should just double-check that it's a good idea. You know, there have been a lot of bad words popping up lately, and that Explorer Leader contest didn't go as well as we would have liked. Maybe it would be smart to lie low for a while.”

I glared at her. Wasn't she supposed to tell me I would do great and that worrying about it was silly?

But I knew, deep down, that worrying about it
wasn't
silly. It was real.

I was hoping that Mom might pretend it wasn't, though. That she'd pretend that I was a normal kid who could do normal things and have normal reactions if the things didn't go amazingly.

But we both knew I'd never be that kid.

 

16

THE ONLY CERTAIN THING

“It'll just be a quick check-in, I promise,” Mom said for the thousandth time as we walked into Dr. Patel's office.

There was that ten-thousand-piece puzzle again, and again I was rushed into the firefighter room right away and there was no time to do it.

“Hello, ladies!” Dr. Patel said.

Hello, torture!
I thought. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about everything that was wrong with me or had been wrong with me in the past or could be wrong with me in the future.

Mom started telling him the whole story right away, so I grabbed the fake fire-truck steering wheel (a new addition since my last visit!) and zoned out till she got to the end.

“And so, while I think it would be wonderful for Elyse to perform on the piano, I know how hard she can be on herself. And kids can be mean, and even a small mistake can become a really big deal. Just look at what's been going on with her for these past few weeks!” Mom grabbed my arms and pushed up my sleeves.

“Hey!” I jerked them back, but it was too late. Dr. Patel could see everything—
DUMB
,
WEIRD
,
AWESOME
,
COOL
—all of the words. I was a mix of happy and sad and itchy and not. My date with Nice Andy and the hangout with Olivia had helped, but not enough to make all the bad things go away. Jeg had still ditched me. Liam still didn't like me. I still wasn't Explorer Leader.

“You see?” Mom asked. “She's so easily influenced. This could take her back to when we saw you last—all bad stuff. Slathered in cream. Miserable.”

I glanced at the fuzzy fire-dog puppet on Dr. Patel's desk and wondered if I got a say in any of this. Mom's worries made sense, I guess, but it would be nice to be asked what I thought, too. Even if I wasn't exactly sure what I thought.

“I see your concern completely,” Dr. Patel said. “It's risky. The show could go badly, definitely. Not that I'm doubting your piano-playing skills or anything, Elyse.” He flashed me a quick smile. “But it could also go really well. Get her more nice words, boost her confidence.” He looked at me again. “The only certain thing in life is doubt. A performance might not go well. The floor of this office might crack open in the next minute and we could all fall through it.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked when I finally got to speak.

“I'm just saying, none of us know for sure what's going to happen. Ever. Anytime. With anything. So it comes down to how comfortable you are taking the risk. What's the worst thing that could happen?”

I considered it.

“I mess up. Bad. Everyone laughs and says horrible things about me. I think horrible things about me.” In my head, I added,
And the mystery-note writer would be disappointed and probably wouldn't help me get Explorer Leader, the one thing that would cover me in good words from head to toe!

“And if you mess up, bad, and everyone laughs and says horrible things, what would happen?” Dr. Patel asked. This seemed kind of silly. He already knew the answer, didn't he?

“Bad words would pop up on my arms and legs. They'd itch a lot. It'd be awful.”

“But haven't bad words popped up before? And itched?”

“Yeah.”

“And did you live?”

“I guess.”

“So,” Dr. Patel said, leaning back in his chair. “It's up to you. And I'll be here to help no matter what you decide. As your mom likes to say, sticks and stones…”

*   *   *