by Wendy Mass
Thank you.
I trace the final words with my fingers. I know why she’s thanking me. She can finally let go of the guilt of not being able to cure David’s great-great-grandfather. I am grateful that I can give that to her, but I can’t help worrying, too. Who am I to play with people’s lives in this way? I’m thrilled for the Goldbergs of course, but what about all the other people I didn’t help?
I keep dwelling on this question as my hand slides over the letters. “Ouch!” I yelp, yanking my hand away. It felt like a little spark jumped off the paper and into my finger. I look back down at the card, expecting to see a scorch mark. Instead, there are new words where the large blank space used to be!
Young Grace, these questions are too big for you to ask. The vortex chose us for reasons that are its own. Perhaps we will know them one day, or perhaps not. Until then, trust.
I touch my fingers gently to the words. I don’t get a shock this time. “I’ll try,” I whisper. “Good night, Angelina.”
But the postcard stays silent.
Dear Diary,
I have a lot to catch you up on. Good and not so good. First, whenever I see David at school he’s grinning so wide his cheeks must hurt. He showed all of us his big family tree on his wall and it’s AMAZING. I see his parents around town and everyone treats them like they’ve always been here. It’s SOOOO weird!!! But very cool!!
On the Team Grace front, we’ve been pretty much all doing our own thing. Grace has been lying low since her forgetting spell worked so well. She and Bailey have been off doing normal kid stuff, which is really great. I ran into them at the Willow Falls Diner eating chocolate chip pancakes and they had chocolate all over them and they didn’t even mind. That’s what it’s like at their age. I remember when I didn’t care, and it wasn’t even so long ago. Tara and Rory cornered me in the cafeteria last week and asked me if everything was okay because I’ve been kind of quiet lately, and I said that everything’s fine, but I’m not so sure it is.
Something happened today that I feel really weird about. That’s the “not so good” thing I said was coming. A week or two after school started, I saw this flyer at the music store when I stopped in to get new drumsticks. The flyer said some kids from the high school were forming a band and needed a drummer. You know how I’m good friends with the owners of the store — Larry and Laurence? Remember how they always said one day I’d be old enough to be in a real band? I guess since you’re a diary and not a real person you wouldn’t know that, but trust me, they did say that. Still, I wasn’t really going to do it because between homework and Leo and Team Grace and marching band, I don’t really have time even if I DID get in, which I probably wouldn’t. Anyway, then Kylie saw the flyer on my desk. I thought she was going to tell me I was crazy and that I’d never make it. But she told me that even though she didn’t really get how banging the drums was music, other people seemed to think I had talent, and hadn’t I always said I wanted to be in a band that didn’t march?
Leo texted me while I was riding my bike over to the audition, but I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to lie and make up some reason why I wasn’t home. I just wanted this to be mine.
The downstairs room of the music store was full of people practicing on invisible drums while they waited their turn. There were some other girls, but I was the youngest by a few years.
I’ll cut to the chase, Diary. I didn’t make the band. But as I was leaving, this guy in Kylie’s grade asked if I wanted to get coffee and talk about playing the drums. I don’t “get coffee” because ICK, it’s so gross, and also Rory once drank way too much and went, like, totally bonkers, and we should really learn from the mistakes of our friends.
But did I mention the guy was really cute and boys don’t ask me out? And it’s not because they know about Leo, it’s because they just don’t. Or haven’t before this, anyway.
Also, I heard Kylie’s voice in my head telling me I should go because she always says you never know if the perfect guy for you is just around the corner, and I know she thinks I’m with Leo just because he’s “comfortable.” So I said okay to the guy whose name was Christian or Tristan or Justin (it was loud in the music store when he first told me his name). We went down the street to the Friendly Bean, a coffee shop in town that the high school kids go to, but where I’ve never been.
We both got iced teas, and he made some joke about how he should have invited me for tea instead of coffee but then we’d sound like little old ladies. I laughed. That joke was the high point of the date because, Diary, I swear, not five minutes after we sat down, LEO’S MOTHER WALKS IN and orders a coffee! Darn this small town!!
She saw me at the exact second I saw her, so there was no chance of ducking. I’d describe her first reaction as surprised and happy to see me, then her second one as just surprise, then her third as confusion, then her fourth as embarrassment. I would describe mine as: horror, followed by more horror, and then even more horror.
She gave me a little wave and left without even getting her coffee. Christian/Tristan/Justin was talking about this new snare drum he’s saving up to buy at the music store, but my head was buzzing and I couldn’t hear him.
When I got home from the date or whatever it was, I told Kylie what happened and I thought she was going to say I was stupid for even worrying about it since I’m my own person and Leo is Leo and he’ll always be there, but instead she threw a pillow at me and yelled, “What is wrong with you? You have a perfectly good boyfriend and you risk messing it up?”
Well, Diary, my mouth fell open on that one! When I tried to argue that she was the one who said I shouldn’t let Leo hold me back, she said, “Don’t listen to ME! I’ve never had someone love me since I was born like you have! I mean, except for family of course and that doesn’t count!”
I tried to argue that of course family counts, but I knew that wasn’t really her point.
“It was just coffee,” I argue.
Then she says, “How would you feel if Leo didn’t reply to your text and then went out for ‘just coffee’ with some random girl?”
Feeling defiant, I crossed my arms and said, “I wouldn’t care. He’s his own person and we’re only thirteen. We have our whole lives ahead of us.”
“That’s right,” she said. “And you can either have it with someone you love and who loves you even when you’re a pain in the butt, which you’ve been lately, or you can spend it trying to replace that person. Your choice.”
She’s right. I know she’s right. So of course I stormed out of her room and that’s why I’m writing this to you.
Maybe Mrs. Fitzpatrick didn’t tell Leo she saw me. That’s possible, right?
Heartbreak & Despair
By Leo Fitzpatrick
She doesn’t even like coffee.
I admit it — my heart does kinda ache,
It actually feels like it’s going to break.
I’ve been here before,
But I guess I’m back for more.
Why was she with some other guy?
I’ve got to man up, I can’t start to cry.
I know three years ago I hurt her really bad,
I hope she didn’t feel half this sad.
She’s my best friend,
And I’ll stand by her to the end.
I just want her to be happy,
Even if it makes me feel crappy.
I hope the guy had bad breath.
ANNABELLE: Don’t freak out.
RORY: How can I not freak out if you start a text with “don’t freak out”?
Just do your best. And remember, it doesn’t mean anything.
Just tell me!
Remember a few weeks ago when Jake surprised you and then your family brought him hiking down near the reservoir and you fell and he had to carry you out?
I didn’t fall! I was just showing him the drainpipe I got stuck in that one time. And then, okay, I sort of fell. What about it?
Wait, you were stuck in a drainpipe?
/> Moving on … so what am I not supposed to freak out about?
This.
Whoa! Where did that picture of me and Jake come from? My parents were there, but they were in the visitors’ center when that happened! We were totally alone!
Well, someone else must have been there. It goes with this article from Teen Scene Today …
You okay?
Ror?
Um, Rory?
I’m on my way.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Checking in
Hello, my name is David Goldberg. You sent me a new patient questionnaire a while ago, and I’m still waiting to hear your response. Can you let me know when you’ll be writing back? Thanks.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Checking in
Dear David,
We are very sorry for any confusion, but we have no record of you as a patient. Perhaps you signed up with a different online therapy program? If you are in need of our services, we are happy to help. Otherwise, best of luck to you.
Sincerely,
Linda, Online Family Therapist
Dear Linda,
May I call you that? I’m not actually going to press SEND on this email anyway, so I guess it doesn’t really matter. I could call you Linda, or Lin, or Linny-loo, and you’d never know it! Haha I crack myself up. :O) I figured out why you have no record of me. It was wiped out thanks to my friend Grace. More on her in a minute.
So, Linda, you’ll never guess what I’ve been doing since my last email (even though YOU don’t remember me filling out that questionnaire, I still remember). I’ve been very busy. After school I’ve been delivering meals to old people. And feeding meters on Main Street. Last weekend I sang songs on the street corner to raise money for Dog Adoption Day at the animal shelter. And I’m allergic to dogs! (You should consider adding allergies to your initial questionnaire.)
Basically, Linda, I’m doing my best to pay it forward. I’m trying to deserve the bounty of blessings that has come my way. You see, it was one thing when Grace and Angelina cured my dad of his disease (yes, it’s magic — how ’bout that?!! — that’s another thing I can’t tell you about of course, but again, not hitting SEND!), but then to free him of the burden of KNOWING he’d been miraculously cured? What a truly astonishing gift! And I don’t throw a word like astonishing around lightly! What thirteen-year-old boy does? But that’s what it is! Until I saw my father that first morning after Grace’s forgetting spell, I hadn’t realized how hard his sudden recovery had been for him, and how much he was covering that up for my sake. But that happy-to-be-alive glint was back in his eye, and a calmness that I hadn’t seen all summer had settled on his face.
When I was little and asked my mom why she took so many pictures and videos of me, she said parents are the keepers of their children’s memories until they’re old enough to hold their own. I’m the keeper of my family’s memories now. I’m the only one who knows the real version of events.
At first, the hardest part of adjusting to this “new normal” was losing the bond my mother and I had formed. For the last five years it’s been the two of us against the world. Now she won’t remember it.
On the other hand, I now have all these memories of life as a family that I never had before. Trips to visit grandparents, seeing Dad at all those school concerts and ball games that he’d missed, laughter around the dinner table, Dad helping me practice for my bar mitzvah. That’s definitely the biggest change. At least my friends still remember me practicing in the empty pool hole across the street. If my friends had forgotten everything we’d been through together, I probably would have lost my mind.
Tara has been my rock. She gave me my favorite bar mitzvah gift — shards of colored glass around a picture frame. It’s supposed to represent the ancient idea of Tikkun Olam, how each of us can do our part to repair the world. I look at it now and I see something I didn’t before. When I stand back, the surface of the pieces reflect the world around me like a solid mirror. But I can also see myself in each of the tiny, broken fragments. Recent events lead me to believe that the world is like that, too — people are the individual fragments, but we are also part of the whole mirror. We are connected, not only to one another but also to the fabric of the universe. Grace can see these invisible bonds, and somehow she can rearrange the pieces. I am so grateful she arranged them in my favor. I will continue to repair the world in her honor.
Thanks for listening, Linda! You were really helpful, even though you’ll never know it!
May the force be with you. Live long and prosper. (Mixing Star Wars and Star Trek there. Connor would turn green and keel over!)
Till we meet again,
David Goldberg
CONNOR KELLY’S INVENTOR’S JOURNAL
Type of product: 3-D Screen
Inventor: Connor Kelly
Description of invention-in-progress: My mentor, Roger St. Claire, told me to follow my passions when it comes to what to invent. My passion is video games. Not just because they’re fun and challenging, but because I enjoy entering another world that someone else dreamed up. It’s not like I’m addicted or anything, no matter what my mom might mutter under her breath when she’d rather I be doing homework. Anyway, it seems to me the end goal for a gamer like myself is to feel fully immersed in that other world. And for that, we need three-dimensional virtual reality. Since I am not a computer programmer, and there’s no way I would be able to build an actual VR device, I am going to follow another of my mentor’s bits of wisdom. He said that an inventor doesn’t need to invent the entire product, that sometimes inventing one piece of the puzzle can bring more success because that one piece might be useful in lots of different products. (He put it better than that, but that’s the gist of it.) So then I thought, Why can’t someone invent a screen that would fit over your computer or TV or phone or tablet or even a whole movie screen that would project the content in 3-D without glasses?
What problem does it solve: While it wouldn’t be the virtual reality of my dreams, this product would save people the cost of having to buy 3-D glasses and would make it possible to view 3-D content wherever they are, without having to worry about having glasses with them.
Who will want or need this product: All fans of 3-D movies (which is of course everyone).
Materials: polarizing filters, organic polymer, calcium carbonate crystals, knowledge of 3-D tech
Steps: Analyze existing 3-D glasses to see how we can create filter for TV from them.
Results: Fingers crossed at this point!
Final observations: I’ll tell ya when it’s done!
Personal note: Even though my invention must remain a secret even to those closest to me (inventors are like magicians that way — can’t reveal our tricks!), I am grateful that right now my life is back to normal enough that I can do this. Thanks, Grace! You’ve got skills, girl!
Most kids might not think that riding the bus to school is all that awesomesauce, but that’s only until your mom makes you go with her every morning and then lectures you about not using your magical powers the whole way to school and then picks you up and lectures you the whole way home. But now I’m back on the bus, baby! Woo-hoo! Bailey gets on soon, and all is right with the world!
All doubts about whether I did the right thing with the forgetting spell went away by the end of the first day. The difference in my parents’ behavior is shocking. I knew it was bad, but now that they’re back to normal, I can see how awful it had actually gotten. Our house feels like a home again, with yummy home-cooked food smells instead of takeout. Dad is back to blasting his old classic rock songs, which Connor and I used to complain about but are now a hugely welcome change from the awkward silences. Dad’s quickly putting the weight back on that he’d lost, and our backyard vegetable garden is flourishing.
Without the added st
rain from our parents’ constant worrying, Connor has returned to his inventions with a new spring in his step. I’m curious what he’s working on but am doing my best not to be nosy and peek in the Inventor’s Journal that Tara’s uncle gave him.
I’ve been surprised how quickly my own life went back to how it was before Angelina and the vortex entered it. I can actually LEARN stuff at school without everyone making a fuss over me. I can walk through the halls without any second glances. Once a day or so, a kid will comment on my summer growth spurt, but that’s not a bad thing. And Mom and I are busy doing what we always did — we make up silly songs together, shop, bake, and she helps me with my homework. I’ve hidden Angelina’s two postcards (along with the instructions on brewing the forgetting spell and the key to the store) in the pouch. Then I hid the pouch in my bottom desk drawer.
I haven’t even been tempted to try the key lately. I know I still need to get to the library like Angelina told me to so I can start learning how to work with my powers, but it’s kind of nice being normal again. Or I guess I should say pretending to be normal, because I know I’m living on borrowed time.
I look out the bus window as it pulls up to Bailey’s stop. Suddenly a vision flashes through my head. My shoulders sag as I realize I’ll be leaving “normal” behind sooner than I’d expected.
“Yo,” Bailey says, plopping down on the seat next to me. “Why the serious face? You don’t want it to freeze that way.” She laughs at her own joke.
I force a smile.
“Better,” she says, tucking her backpack under our seat.
“Time’s up,” I say softly.
“What do you mean?”
I point out the window at a woman walking her dog on the sidewalk.
“So?” Bailey asks. “Do you know her?”
