The Perfect Star

by Rob Buyea

  “Nothing a football player can’t handle. Right, Gavvy?” Megs said, wiping the rain from her eyes.

  “That’s right!” Scott cheered. “This is nothing compared to our Snowbowl. Let’s go.”

  I glanced at Randi ’cause she was the one with the map on her phone, except there was no map ’cause the bad weather and these crazy tall buildings were teaming up to block satellite reception. It didn’t matter, ’cause Megs and Scott weren’t waiting. They were already hurrying down the sidewalk.

  Me and Randi followed them. Randi kept trying to get her phone to work, but still no luck. I didn’t say anything, but after walking several blocks, I started getting nervous. It was like the city had transformed overnight. Nothing looked familiar under these gray skies. This was the trickiest defense I’d ever played against. I couldn’t tell if we were going the right way or not. I couldn’t even remember the name of the street where we were supposed to turn.

  “We’re almost there,” Scott cheered. “C’mon!”

  Why was I worried? Scott was even better at reading defenses than me. He didn’t need a phone or a map. One trip, and he had this route programmed into his brain.

  He turned at the next corner, and I immediately recognized the place. Even in these miserable conditions, Times Square was lit up and looked alive. I wasn’t surprised to see a mob of people already crowding the studio, but missing was the swarm of signs waving back and forth, looking for airtime. They’d been replaced by umbrellas. As soon as Megs pulled her poster from my backpack, I understood why. Her marker SAVE MY DADDY letters had leaked all down the paper.

  Megs shrugged. “I can still use it,” she said.

  I shielded my eyes from the rain and watched my little sister snake her way through the people. Even wearing the same clothes that she’d had on all day yesterday and slept in on a bathroom floor, even as a drowned rat, she was still the cutest thing I’d ever seen.

  Meggie made it to the front just as the crowd erupted, yelling and cheering. The weatherman and camera guy had come outside. She joined the frenzy, and the show went live.

  All I could do now was watch and hope.

  NATALIE KURTSMAN

  ASPIRING LAWYER

  Kurtsman Law Offices

  BRIEF #18

  December: Saving Mr. Davids

  Mark switched the feed, and suddenly all of Lake View Middle was watching Good Morning America. I gasped. The camera was following the weatherman as he made his rounds with the crowd outside the studio. I frantically searched the people, desperately trying to find Randi or Gavin. They weren’t there.

  “What’s that sign?” Trevor asked.

  “Where?” I screamed.

  “There.” Mark pointed.

  I saw her streaky letters. “It’s Meggie!” I squealed. “She’s there!”

  “She made it,” Mrs. Woods said, relieved.

  “Hi. What’s your name?” the weatherman asked a random person.

  There was small talk, and then he moved down the line. He stopped at another random person. “Hi. Where are you from?”

  More small talk before he moved on again. “Hi. What’s your name?”

  More small talk, but instead of moving down the line, the weatherman stepped back. “Okay, how about a check on the weather? In case you couldn’t tell, here in New York we’re looking at rain—and lots of it. It will be cats and dogs all day. The sunshine is out west, where you’ll be enjoying a gorgeous week. And down south you’ll be warming up in temperatures reaching the high seventies.

  “Now here’s a look at your local news and forecast.”

  The show cut to our local meteorologist and reporter. “Quick,” Mrs. Woods urged. “Switch the feed back to Natalie. You’ve got to tell everyone to keep watching.”

  We scrambled into position, and Mark gave me the go-ahead. “Don’t turn off your TVs,” I implored. “We spotted Meggie Davids in the crowd. She’s there—and she’s got one last chance to get the weatherman’s attention. This is it.”

  The screen went black, and Mark reconnected us to Good Morning America just in time.

  “We’re back in the pouring rain,” the weatherman could be heard saying, but the camera wasn’t on him yet. “Before we go back inside to get out of this nasty weather, I’ve got to ask about this sign. The rain has all but ruined it, so I’m having a hard time reading it. Can you tell us what your name is, how old you are, and what your sign says?” he asked someone.

  Who was it? We still couldn’t see!

  “My name is Meggie Davids,” a strong little voice said. “I’m six years old, and my sign says ‘Save My Daddy.’ ”

  Suddenly the camera connected, and we could see Meggie on TV. Lake View Middle erupted in cheers. Cries of joy and celebration could be heard from every corner of the building. Tears sprang to my eyes.

  “My daddy got hurt in a bad accident, and he’s in the hospital in intensity care, and he needs surgeries. I’m here with my brother and Randi and Scott. We broke lots of rules to get here because Gavvy is only thirteen and he’s not supposed to drive, but we had to make it because my daddy doesn’t have health inchurents, and without America’s help our family is going to lose everything. Eddie—she’s an old lady at the senior center where my brother and his friends visit—she said if you ever want the world to know something, then just get it on your show—so that’s what I’m doing. My daddy needs help. Please.”

  Meggie got all of that out, and then her voice cracked on the last word and she fell to pieces. I lost it. I was sobbing. Meggie hadn’t just tugged at the heart; she’d broken it—all the way.

  The weatherman lifted Meggie over the iron railing and held her in his arms. He hugged her and then he turned and faced the camera. “America, we’re going to help.”

  The camera panned the crowd. People were cheering and crying and applauding. And then a chant rang out: “Meg-gie! Meg-gie! Meg-gie!”

  We watched the weatherman carry Meggie toward the studio, and they disappeared inside.

  “Okay, Natalie. We’ve got to bring it back to you now,” Trev whispered.

  “Bring us home, dude,” Mark said.

  I giggled and wiped my eyes.

  “In three, two, one,” Trev said.

  I looked directly into the camera. “You can help by going to Meggie’s GoFundMe page. I set it up yesterday. Details are on the bottom of the screen.

  “I’m Natalie Kurtsman, saying, ‘Have a razzle-dazzle day, Lake View Middle.’ ”

  What else was there to say? Either Meggie’s play had worked—or it hadn’t. Only time would tell.

  After Meggie got whisked away by the weatherman, Gavin and I high-fived, and Randi gave us a hug. Our secret-weapon play had put us in the red zone. Now we needed America to do the rest. We did a little end-zone dancing to celebrate, and then we waited. Randi had texted our moms earlier, and my mom was on her way, but for now we were stuck standing in the rain.

  “Gavvy,” Meggie suddenly called from the studio door. “Gavvy, you’ve been invited inside. Randi and Scott, too.”

  Saved. Meggie was a team player. I didn’t know where we were going, but I was happy to go anywhere as long as it got me out of the cold. The rain was turning to sleet, bringing back memories of the Snowbowl. To my delight, there was a tray of cookies in the room where they took us, and some nice woman served us hot chocolate.

  I was on my fourth cup when I heard Mom’s voice. “Scott.”

  “Mom!” I yelled, spilling my cocoa. I jumped up and ran to her, and she grabbed me in a giant hug.

  “You had me worried sick.” She held my face in her hands. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry you were worried, Mom, but we had to get Meggie here to ask for help. It was our secret-weapon play. And I had to come to make a documentary of i
t so Natalie could use it on our show.”

  “It’s my fault, Mrs. Mason,” Gavin said. “Don’t blame Scott.”

  “Get over here,” Mom snapped at him. “And you too,” she told Randi. She pulled all three of us close and squeezed us tight together. It was hard to breathe. “You scared us to death, but no moms could be prouder of their children,” she whispered to us.

  I looked up at her. “We did it, Mom,” I said.

  “You did it,” she replied.

  Wait till I tell Grandpa this story, I thought.

  The Good Morning America people brought me in with Megs so they could get the full story. I filled them in. I asked to do it without Meggie present, ’cause like Scott had said after his fire, what you don’t know can’t hurt you.

  After I got done talking, they wanted to meet Randi and Scott, and we told them about Kurtsman and Trevor and Mark and The Razzle-Dazzle Show. Randi showed us that Kurtsman had a GoFundMe page set up for Meggie, and when we looked, we saw something none of us expected—money was already being donated to it. My legs got wobbly, and I had to sit down.

  Before the Good Morning America broadcast ended that morning, they replayed Meggie’s clip on TV and shared information on how to help by going to her GoFundMe page. The team at the show wished us good luck and promised to check in on us real soon, and then we left with Mrs. Mason.

  I’d broken a bunch of different laws dragging my little sister and Randi and Scott all the way into New York City, and I’d made us spend the night hiding in a bathroom stall at Grand Central Terminal, but I still hadn’t faced the scariest part of it all. That was waiting for me.

  Mrs. Mason led our return trip, but she didn’t take us home. We went straight to the hospital, ’cause that’s where Mom was. She was sitting with Randi’s mom in the family-lounge area on the intensive care floor. When we walked in, Mom jumped from her chair and rushed over to us. I felt small in her arms. I didn’t want her to let go.

  “It’s okay, Mommy. We went and got help,” Meggie whispered.

  “I know, mija.” She held Meggie’s head against her belly and looked at me.

  “Sorry, Mom—”

  “Niño,” she said, cutting me off. “A parent does whatever he can, whatever it takes, to protect his family—and so does a special son.”

  I swallowed against the knot in my throat.

  “Your father wants to see you,” she said.

  I swallowed again. Was he mad? Did he blame me for the accident?

  “I’ll show you where he is.”

  Randi gave my hand a quick squeeze. This was it. This was the scariest moment. I woulda rather played against Stonebreaker with no pads and no helmet.

  I took a deep breath and followed Mom out of the lounge and around the corner. It was a short walk. We stopped outside Dad’s room. Mom kissed me on the cheek and gripped me by the shoulders so that she could look at me square. “Your father is doing okay, but he doesn’t look great, niño, so be strong.”

  I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

  Mrs. Mason and Scott left, but Mom and I stayed at the hospital until Gav returned from seeing his dad. He wasn’t gone that long because Mr. Davids was very tired. I was usually good at knowing how Gav was feeling and what he was thinking, but it was hard to tell when he came shuffling into the lounge.

  “What did Daddy say?” Meggie asked.

  “He said he’ll see you soon and to take care of Otis.”

  Hearing him mention Otis made my eyes get wet.

  “Okay,” Meggie said.

  “Let’s go home now,” Mrs. Davids said. “We’ll give Daddy a chance to sleep, and you two can take a shower and get some rest, too. We’ll come back later.”

  I held Gav’s hand and walked with him on the way out. “He told me he was proud of me and to stay strong,” Gav whispered.

  Mrs. Mason had told us the same, but I don’t think Gav believed it until he heard it from his father. He looked at me, and I smiled. “It’s going to be okay,” I said, giving his hand a squeeze.

  I felt him squeeze back.

  I got into the car with Mom, and exhaustion hit me full force—and so did a batch of funny feelings.

  Under normal circumstances school would’ve been slow and ultra-boring in the couple of weeks before Christmas, but not with Natalie. That girl never stopped.

  The Razzle-Dazzle Show was business as usual. Natalie wasn’t done helping the Davidses. She did a feature interview with Gavin, then with Randi, and then with Scott. I thought she’d saved Scott till last because his part had been the least important, but I was wrong. Randi made you feel sad and kind of mushy, and I felt really bad for Gavin when he mentioned missing the all-star game because of everything that had happened, and that was all good because feeling sad and mushy and bad was important for getting people to care and want to help, but it was Scott who stole the show.

  Natalie didn’t even need to ask him any questions. He did it all by himself. “You know what?” he said. “I think Santa Claus came early this year. I checked Meggie’s GoFundMe page this morning, and people are still donating. Her secret-weapon play was the best of all time.”

  “Scott, wait until you see this,” Natalie said.

  “What is it?”

  “A surprise.”

  “I love surprises!” he shrieked.

  “I know,” Natalie said. She pointed to Mark, and he clicked something on his computer screen. Whatever she had planned was a surprise for me too. Suddenly an image of Stonebreaker and some of his teammates popped up on our screen. It was a video message. Mark clicked play.

  “Hey, Davids. We’re sorry to hear about your dad,” Stonebreaker said. “We saw the video of your sister on Good Morning America and wanted to help. Our team did a fund-raiser, and we’ll be donating to your GoFundMe page.

  “It’s cool that Mason had my back and made sure I got to play in our game, especially after what I did. We can be rivals on the field, but much respect off it,” Stonebreaker said. “And, Davids, sorry you missed the all-star game. You belonged there.”

  The video ended, and Mark cut back to Natalie.

  “Wow,” Scott said, clearly stunned. “Stonebreaker did that?”

  “Actually,” Natalie said, “the Titans aren’t the only team to donate. Every team you played has contributed.”

  “Holy smokes! That’s awesome! I told you Santa came early this year!”

  He had all of us laughing—including Gavin. And, boy, did that feel good.

  Bottom line was that Meggie had killed it with her secret-weapon play, and Scott had stolen the Razzle-Dazzle Show broadcast, but Natalie was the hands-down MVP behind the scenes—and she wasn’t done surprising me yet. After we’d packed up and were heading to our first-period classes, she sprang it on me.

  “Trev?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Would you be interested in going to the soup kitchen on Friday? The one your brother and Madison told us about.”

  “You mean…like…just the two of us?” I sputtered.

  “Actually, there’s this girl in my math class. Her name is Abby. She thinks Mark is cute, so I was thinking maybe they could go with us?”

  “You mean…like…a double date? With my best friend?”

  She nodded. “Sure. We’re going to help the homeless, but we’ll call it a date. Maybe we can get some ice cream afterward or something.”

  “Scott was right. Santa did come early.”

  Natalie giggled. “I’ll tell Abby. You tell Mark.” She waved and ducked into her classroom.

  I stood there, and then it hit me. Natalie had proven me wrong yet again. It was possible for the problem to also be the solution. Was there anything my girlfriend couldn’t do? I didn’t think so.

  I turned and headed for my classroom. I wondered if Santa might also
be able to deliver a second kiss.

  Mr. Davids made it home just in time for Christmas. I was there when Gav wheeled him up the temporary ramp he’d built and into the house for the first time. I thought my heart had already been smashed to pieces, but it shattered all over again when I saw Otis’s reaction. The dog started whimpering the moment he saw Mr. Davids, and he lumbered over and pushed his big head into Mr. Davids’s lap. Mr. Davids rubbed Otis’s ears and told him it was okay and that he was okay. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that Otis’s tail immediately began wagging. Otis licked Mr. Davids on the arm, and his tail got going faster and faster until he got so happy, he couldn’t hold it in any longer and he let out one of his thunder barks.

  Mr. Davids was stuck using a wheelchair to get around, and he would be for a while, but no one was complaining. We didn’t need any reminding that it could’ve been worse. If that van had fallen on his neck or head, we would’ve been raising money to pay for his funeral service, not his surgeries and recovery. Speaking of money, America had delivered. Meggie’s video from Good Morning America had gone viral. People were still donating.

  Truthfully, that was all the happy news and present I needed for Christmas. If you had asked me beforehand, I would’ve told you that all I wanted was for Gav’s dad and family to be okay. That was it. But Jacob was in the giving spirit.

  He arrived on Christmas Eve, and at dinner that night—with me sitting right there—he got down on one knee, pulled a glittering diamond ring from his pocket, and popped the question.

  “Yes!” Mom cried. “Yes!”

  Jacob slid the ring onto her finger and they kissed.

  I darted from the table and ran to my room. I flung myself down onto my bed and buried my face in my pillows. And I let it out. I finally let it out. I cried and cried, until I felt Mom touching me.

  “Randi, what’s wrong?” She rubbed my back. “Randi? I know you don’t hate Jacob or distrust him, so what’s got you so upset?”