The Pages Between Us (18 page)

I can't believe we made it on time. Or almost on time. There were a few hurdles in our way, as you see now with this ticket Dad got. I was fairly sure Officer Danville was going to throw us in jail when Mom demanded we get a police escort instead of a ticket. Dad had to do a lot of “Yes, Officer, in the future we will make it to a kid's birthday party without police intervention.”

Yep. Dad sped through a neighborhood just to get me to Pottery Palace in time to find you. Dad never speeds. He never even fast-forwards TV programs.

That's how much my parents wanted to make sure I got there.

Here's why . . .

We were on our way to the chess tournament. I was in the backseat, where I should have been bouncing my knees, giddy as ever. I should have been happy that the night before, my dad had come to check in on me and said, “I'm excited about tomorrow.”

I should have been beaming as I sat in that backseat.

But I wasn't. I was biting at my lower lip to stop it from quivering. And Dad kept sitting forward to get a glimpse of me in his rearview mirror. I did my best to stare out the window and hope he didn't ask questions.

Except when he pulled up to the convention center where the tournament was being held, I saw the sign outside. “Welcome Kennedy Middle School Chess Team.” And by the time my dad had pulled the car into park, my eyes started to well up with tears.

You won't believe it, but it was my mom who turned around first. She even put her hand on top of mine. “What's wrong, Liv?”

“I . . . I . . .” I couldn't talk. I was too busy wiping the snot away. Sorry for the TMI.

Dad turned all the way around to face me. “You're not worried about the competition, are you?”

Sniffle, sniffle. “I'm at the wrong place—”

“Oh, no. Did I read the directions wrong?” He scrolled through his phone, looking at the map.

“No, Dad. I think I made the wrong choice. And now I don't know how to fix it.”

Mom patted my hand. “You can tell us.”

“Piper's birthday party. It's at the Pottery Palace and then
they're having pizza. It's a big deal. But I told her I had to come to this chess tournament. I thought this chess tournament would fix everything. . . .”

Dad tilted his head at me. “Fix what?”

Boy, did I ever do the deepest, most cleansing breath ever. Preparing to tell your dad the truth requires lots of oxygen. That's when Mom squeezed my hand. I looked up at her and saw that her eyes had softened. She didn't say any words, but that look she gave me . . . wow. It was like she finally understood why I was sad. I'd been waiting so long for one of those dramatic moments like the ones in the movies where I unload my feelings on my parents and they just . . . get it.

It happened, Piper—right there in the backseat of my dad's Ford.

One more quick breath and I said it. “Dad, I did this—joined a chess club and made it to this tournament . . . just so you'd go with me. So we could have something to do together. I ended up making some friends and it's been great. But the reason I joined in the first place was so maybe you'd stop thinking about Jason for a minute and—”

He rubbed his temple. “You mean you did this . . . for me?”

Wipe, sniffle, wipe. “Yeah.” I pressed my forehead against the window and added in a soft voice, “I just wanted you to be proud.”

He reached back over the car seat and grabbed my hand. Both of my parents were now holding my hands, if you're keeping count. BOTH OF THEM. “I am proud, Chicken. I always have been.” He squeezed my hand harder.

I flashed him a little grin. He'd called me Chicken.

I know you'll get what a huge thing that was. I know you feel like it's so hard to get your parents to pay attention to you sometimes. Different situation. But totally the same feelings. And I love that about our friendship, more than anything—that you get me too.

But then Dad's smile faded into a frown. “Oh, no. I forgot to tell you something.”

I sat up straight. “Tell me what?”

“Piper came by the house. She had a surprise to give you, but I told her you were busy. You were doing that nervous pacing thing, and I know how you don't like people seeing you doing your nervous pacing thing.”

He was right, and it kind of made my insides twitch with joy that he remembered my nervous pacing thing. But for you I would've made an exception. Dad didn't know that, though.

I leaned forward in my seat. “What did she bring me?”

He raised a brow. “A flower. An orchid—a fake one. She said you'd know what it meant.”

I pressed my lips together, hoping I could stop from
crying. But tears flowed down my face. I turned into a snot river.

(TMI again?)

“A fake potted plant?” my mom said. “Couldn't she get you a fresh bouquet from the farmer's market?”

Mom had no idea how much that fake plant meant to me. But my dad, on the other hand . . .

“So if you want to know what I think?” Dad said with a smile. “I think you're right. We're in the wrong place.”

My face lit up. “Do you mean I can go to the party?”

“There is the issue of you letting your team down, though,” Dad said.

I reached for the door handle. “No, there's not, actually. There's someone much more deserving of my spot on the team. I have to get in there and find Ellie. She's the one who really deserves this.”

Dad shot me a sneaky grin. “Then go. Tell her to take your place. We have a party to get to!”

I sprinted inside the building to find Ellie. The guys were already pacing backstage going over chess moves, but there was no Ellie. The bathroom—that was the only place she could be.

And yep, she was hanging out in the last stall, stress-eating a bag of Cheetos with tears in her eyes. “Take my place. You're the one who's been in the club since the beginning. You
taught me all the things I know. And I don't even want to be here. Will you please play for me?”

She had just stuffed a bunch of Cheetos in her mouth. “Weally??” And then she smothered me with a hug. But when she stepped back, we realized she had smeared Cheeto dust all over her shirt. “I can't go out there with this streaked orange shirt.”

Being someone who had cried in a bathroom with a bag of Cheetos before, I knew exactly how that felt. “Take mine.” So we switched shirts. She ran out there wearing a sharp-looking blouse with ruffled sleeves, and I sprinted back out to the parking lot looking like a streaky orange monster.

“We have to stop by the house first. Quick change!”

Mom, of course, was all in favor of this. “Step on it. No daughter of mine is going to an important pottery party without a crisp clean shirt. Or maybe we could just swing by a department store to find something—”

“No time!” Dad and I both yelled.

So that's why we got a ticket in a residential area. And that's why I showed up in my favorite Christmas Eve blouse. (It was the only one I could find that was pressed and ready to go on such short notice. Also, I didn't look around all that much. I HAD TO GET TO A PARTY!)

I'm glad I made it almost on time, at least before the party
had moved on to Crown Pizza. And I'm sorry I tried to go to some stupid chess tournament instead of your once-in-a-lifetime party event. Which it WAS. Even Tessa and Eve were nice to me. It was as if the third grade incident had never happened.

Sitting there next to those girls made me realize that I hadn't joined those clubs just to talk to Jackson.

It wasn't about the guy.

It was about moving on . . . breaking away from third grade me and becoming the NOW me.

Does that make sense? It's all sort of starting to make sense to me now. It's about time, I guess.

So your muddy-colored heart jewelry box was perfect. Guess what? Brown is my go-to color when I'm lonely and missing my best friend.

I wasn't sure if you were missing me all that time that we weren't talking to each other, but now I'm glad I know you did.

So I guess there's really only one thing left to say:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PIPER.

It was awesome.

But wait . . . you have a plan for how to talk about Crown Pizza and that whole thing with Jackson? I'm lifting my brow at you . . . I'm very curious. . . .

I have a feeling it's time to pop some popcorn.

Olivia

Setting: Crown Pizza

(No, Olivia, it's supposed to be fiction. So call it Dragon Lairs of Evil Ninjas . . . Palace.)

Seriously?

Yes. Remember, I'm the Game Master and experienced LARPer. Please trust me as I introduce you to this magical world.

Yawn. Wow. I'm sort of tired. Maybe I'll get my jammies on and get to bed.

No! This is the number-one activity of our slumber party. The fact that your parents are letting you spend the ENTIRE night is a modern miracle. That means NO SLEEPING. Besides, I played chess with you!

Played
isn't really the word I would use . . .

CAST:

Orc—Jordan

Ninja Prince—Jackson

Birthday President of the World—Piper

(What does that have to do with warriors?)

(Nothing, but it's my birthday. I can be what I want, right?)

Rook—Olivia

(Wait, what's a rook again?)

(The horsey thing, sweetie. And yes, that was sarcasm. The horsey thing looks like a horse and is actually called a knight. The rook looks like a castle-y thing.)

They are playing skeeball, I mean . . . throwing a gauntlet? Or whatever warriors do. That's what we're all doing.

Good job. I can tell you're already getting into the inner mind of your character!

THE SCRIPT:

BIRTHDAY PRESIDENT OF THE WORLD (
having so much fun, giggling
): Methinks this is the noblest birthday party I've doth ever seen! Hey, did I tell you Danny gave me a coupon to his lemonade stand? For a birthday present? I don't know if he's being nice or it's a joke.

He came and stayed, right? I think he was being nice. Your hair looked great, by the way. No wonder he stayed. *wink*

I don't LIKE him, if that's what you're saying.

I didn't say that. You just did.

Well, I don't.

Of course you don't. Who are we talking about again?

Dan . . . funny. Yeah. Exactly.

BPOTW: Okay, sorry. Back to the Dragon Lair . . . We live in dangerous times, even amidst this jubilation! You never know what is lurking in the shadows. . . .

Wow. You're really getting into this.

ROOK: Oh . . . my! I see a Ninja Warrior Guy. And he has one of those balls and chains with spikes on it, what are those called?

BPOTW: Balls and chains with spikes on it.

NINJA PRINCE: Hey, girls. Skeeball's cool.

ROOK: I just got a high score.

NINJA: Cool.

ROOK: I saw you playing basketball.

NINJA: Yeah.

ROOK: You like playing basketball? You're good at lots of sports, right?

NINJA: I guess.

(
awkward pause, but not too awkward
)

(
YAWN. Is this a direct retelling of your conversation?
)

(
Yeah? So?
)

(
Er . . . nothing. Carry on.
)

NINJA: You're pretty good at math.

ROOK: Yeah, I guess.

NINJA: I'm not so great at it. We should meet up for tutoring sometime.

ROOK: Totally. I could totally do that.

(
The president GRABS horsey by the mane and tries not to rip her hair out with excitement.
)

Seriously, Piper. I have bruises from all your poking and nudging! And rooks have no mane, no—forget it. Not important.

But look above. Do you see what I see? A FULL CONVERSATION WITH JACKSON. Where you initiated most of the talking. And then HE brought up the tutoring, which was our initial plan. Bam! Boom! The peasants rejoiced!!

I know! And I wasn't even nervous. It all just came . . . natural to me. I think talking to all those new people at Chess Club gave me a little more warrior spirit.

And kingdoms fell, children wept, for the fair horse had climbed the highest mountain and . . .

Come back to earth. Then stupid warrior guy I didn't even know—

Travis.

Whatever. Thanks for inviting him.

I didn't invite him. He crashed my party. PEOPLE CRASHED MY PARTY.

Anyway, Travis the stupid warrior grabbed Jackson to go into battle/play a game of air hockey.

And lo, how we rejoiced!!!

Settle down. We get it, Piper. THE END.

NO! Not the end. You forgot the part where the drooly Orc offered you jewels, no one knows what in exchange for, perhaps for pittance upon his people.