by Seven Steps
“Yes,” I said finally. “I want to run it this year.”
“Any particular reason?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You know that Sherri Shepherdson usually runs it.”
“Yes, I know. But Kat Levy got into a car accident. She’s in a coma and the medical bills are going to be insane. We wanted to do something for her.”
Mr. Davies’ face softened a bit.
“How would this help Kat?”
“We were thinking about making this year’s carnival a charity event in Kat’s honor. If everyone donates, we can give the money to Kat’s mom to pay her medical bills.”
I twirled my fingers together. It was the first time I’d heard my plan out loud. In my mind it sounded great, but out loud I couldn’t tell if it sounded dumb or not. And Mr. Davies’ face had turned unreadable.
“Your suggestion is noble,” he said. “And you’re the first student to approach me and ask how they can help Kat and her family. I like that. But the carnival is a school tradition. I’m not saying that I don’t have faith in you, but I do know you, Lily. This doesn’t seem to be something you’d typically take on.”
“I know. But Kat was—is my friend. I want to do something for her. And I know it’s going to be a lot of hard work and long days, but this needs to happen, and I want to be the person to make it happen. Even if it’s new and slightly terrifying.”
I put my anxious hands behind my back and waited for his response. I felt Calla’s hand slide into mine, and I squeezed it, grateful that she was next to me. I needed her strength now.
Mr. Davies thought a long moment, then he sighed.
“Lily McAlister, I must say...”
We waited for his next words like a camel waited for its next drink.
“…I like this idea. I think it’s commendable that you want to help a fellow student in need. We need more of that spirit around here. I would be happy to allow you to run the fall carnival.”
Relief flowed through me, followed by shock, then terror, then relief again. All of my emotions were jumbled together in one dizzying swirl.
He said yes? He said yes!
Yes meant I could do this.
Wait, I was doing this?
“I have a binder with rules that will need to be followed, and we’ll need to talk about a logistical plan and the budget, but otherwise I’ll leave this in your capable hands.” He put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I appreciate you taking the initiative in this. It shows character. And I’m sure Kat’s mom will be very grateful.”
He gave me one final pat on the shoulder, then walked into his office.
The next thing I knew, Calla was hugging me tight and jumping up and down.
“We’re running the fall carnival! This is incredible!”
But my body was frozen, my eyes wide.
Was this really happening? Could I really do this? Before it was like a dream I wanted to make a reality. Now it was like a huge stack of bricks I was asked to make into a skyscraper.
The fall carnival was a huge deal. What if I screwed it up and there was no money for Kat’s mom after all? What if I failed?
“Earth to Lily.” Calla grabbed my face and squeezed it between her palms.
“What?”
“Stop thinking about everything. This is a win. Enjoy it.”
A win for who? For me? Why did I think I could do this? I couldn’t do this!
Calla let go of me and started walking back toward the lunch room.
“I love carnivals,” she said in a dreamy voice. “We’ll have a kissing booth and games and horses and real-life cowboys. It’ll be magical.” She put her hands together and smiled. “We could string little pretty lights everywhere and have a Ferris wheel. Just like that scene in The Notebook. I can’t wait to start!”
Great.
At least one of us was excited for this.
Because I wasn’t excited at all.
I was terrified.
5
Old Lily wasn’t just rearing her head. She was marching out of the pit of my soul and wreaking havoc like Godzilla reborn.
What was I thinking? I couldn’t run the fall carnival. I couldn’t go against Sherri Shepherdson. I couldn’t do any of those things I’d told Mr. Davies I could do.
Now I’d gotten myself into the biggest pickle ever.
I hated pickles.
I spent the rest of the school day drowning in my thoughts. Trying to figure out how I could get this carnival to happen without me actually making it happen.
I’d gotten the go ahead to run the entire thing. But there wasn’t anything that said I had to actually RUN the entire thing. If I got someone else to run it, it would be just as good.
And I had the perfect person.
I wanted for Rose and Calla to climb into Becks’ car and for us to pull away from the curb before I stated my case.
“Rose, how long have we been sisters?” I asked.
It was a dumb thing to say, but I had a line of questioning in mind and this was the kick-off point.
She looked up from typing on her phone with a raised eyebrow.
“What do you want?” she asked.
I feigned an innocent gasp. “What do you mean? I don’t want anything. I just wanted to say how much I look up to you.”
She put her phone in her lap and frowned at me.
“What do you want, Lily Bell?”
“Did I ever tell you that you were my favorite sister?”
“I’m your only sister. Now out with it.”
I sighed. She had me pegged. Hopefully it didn’t work against me.
“I want you to run the fall carnival.”
She scrunched her nose. “You want me to run the fall carnival?”
“Yes. I think you’d be amazing for the job. Way better than Sherri.”
“Why?”
“Because. You’re Rose McAlister. The Cyborg. You’re good at everything.”
“Don’t call me a cyborg. You know I hate that.”
I swallowed. “Sorry.”
Rose looked out the window for a moment, then back at me.
“You think I’d be better than Sherri, huh?”
“Way better than Sherri. Like a million times better.”
Rose looked at me for a long time and, for a minute, I had a sliver of hope that she’d actually take on my proposal without a fight.
Then, she pulled her phone back out of her pocket and started typing again.
“No.”
My hopes sank to my feet.
“No? What? Why?”
“Because.”
“Because?”
“Yes. Because.”
“Because is not an answer.”
“Because I have a million things to do without running a carnival. School. Track team. The newspaper. I’m swamped. And Sherri does a great job every year, though I’d die before I admit that to her face. Besides, the best part of going to the carnival is enjoying it without actually doing anything.”
“But... But...”
“Why do you want me to run the carnival anyway? What’s in it for you?”
I held a hand to my heart, as if her comment wounded me. In actuality, she knew me too well.
“Me? There’s nothing in it for me.”
“Oh, yes, there is,” Calla said. “She’s trying to get out of running the carnival herself.”
Rose’s head whipped around to give Calla her full attention.
“What’s that mean?” Rose asked.
My silent pleas for Calla to shut her big mouth went unheeded.
“It means that Lily already asked Principal Davies if she could run the carnival to pay for Katherine’s medical bills and he agreed. Now she’s getting cold feet. Just like always.”
Rose looked back at me, surprise stretching her face. “Lily, is that true?”
Well, there went the hope of passing this off to someone else.
I slumped in my seat. This was not going as planned at all.
“I
t’s totally true,” Calla said. “I was there.”
I loved Calla, but sometimes I wished she’d keep her mouth shut.
“Lily, why are you trying to pass this off? You’d be great at running the carnival. You’re smart, you’re organized, and you have good ideas.”
“Yeah, I’m also a klutz who tends to ruin everything she touches.”
“That’s not true. Well, maybe for the car it’s true, but not for everything else.”
I scoffed.
“Look,” Rose said. “I can’t run the carnival, but I will help you whenever you need me. I promise.”
“But I—”
“No buts, Lily Bell,” Rose said. “This is an opportunity for you to grow and to achieve something great. Plus, it’s for a good cause.”
I groaned. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Sure you can. I have faith in you. And Calla is going to be right here with you. And I’ll help whenever I can.”
“I’ll help too.” Our heads turned to the driver’s seat. Becks, who’d been silent up until now, sat in his seat expressionless and staring at the road.
Did I actually hear him, or was his voice a side effect of my anxious mind?
“You’d help us?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Yeah. Why not?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever put together a carnival?”
“No. But neither have you. I guess we both have something to learn.”
I opened my mouth for a retort, then closed it again.
Honestly, I didn’t want Becks to help me with the carnival. There was something about him that made me so uncomfortable. Like my emotions were all jumbled up, and I couldn’t figure out why.
But beggars can’t be choosers, right? I needed as much help as I could get, and if Becks threw his hat into the ring, who was I to say no? Even if I did want to kick the hat right back out of the ring.
“Thanks,” I said.
His knuckles squeezed on the steering wheel. I could see them turning white.
“No problem.”
“So, do we have ideas for this thing?” Rose asked.
“A Ferris wheel,” Calla said. “And horses.”
Rose scoffed. “In the school gym? Yeah, right.”
“We were hoping to change the venue this year,” I said. “Like maybe to the Bloom fairgrounds?”
“You two have been to the fall carnival for the last three years, right?” Rose said. “They’ve all been in the gym.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“Well—”
Rose shook her head. “Never mind. Forget the venue. Maybe we should manage expectations right now.” Her eyes pinned on me. “Okay, Team Leader. What are your expectations?”
Me? Leader? I’d never led anything in my life. I didn’t even know where to begin.
“Expectations?” I asked.
“Yes. For the carnival and for us. What are you looking for? What’s your objective?”
I cleared my throat, trying to buy time to think.
“Well, um... I guess I expect that we’ll ask Mr. Davies to move the carnival to the fairgrounds and that he’ll say no. I expect we’ll have to keep it small. And I expect he’ll put a damper on the Ferris wheel idea. And the horses.”
Calla sucked her teeth. “But the horses and the Ferris wheel are the two best parts!”
I grimaced. “I’m sorry. Maybe we can have one horse. A little one. Like tiny. Like a hobby horse.”
Calla looked flabbergasted, while Becks chuckled. It was the first time I’d seen him do anything but scowl since he came back to Bloom.
“Don’t tell me you still have your hobby horse,” he said.
I did have a hobby horse. Her name was Darla, and she was the best fake horse in the world. And, for the record, Becks and I constantly fought over who got to ride Darla first. Every time Becks lost the fight, he’d cry.
I hadn’t thought about Darla in years. I didn’t even know where Darla was. Where did children’s toys go when the child grew up? The basement? The attic? Into the donation box at the Goodwill? Who knew?
A small smile crept over my lips as memories of Becks and me skipping around the yard with my hobby horse rose in my mind.
I looked over at him. Those green eyes. That small smile. For the first time since he’d returned, I saw a glimpse of the boy he used to be.
Ten-year-old Becks, with his hair flapping over his mischievous eyes, and a huge smile on his face as he yelled, “Giddy up, Darla.”
Then, the memory faded.
Becks returned his gaze to the road and replaced his smile with his trademark scowl, while I sat there wondering why I felt like I’d just been hit by a Mack truck filled with memories.
The moment happened so fast it was hard to believe it actually had happened.
Did it actually happen?
“Lily,” Calla said. “I cannot be seen riding a hobby horse.”
I blinked, trying to ignore the knot that formed in my gut.
“Well, uh, maybe we’ll just not do the horses then,” I said. But my voice was barely a whisper. I wanted to look back at Becks again. To search his face for the old Becks. What had happened to him? What had happened to the boy who used to be my friend?
The car pulled in front of our house, and Becks threw it into park.
“So, maybe we’ll meet tomorrow at lunch to solidify some ideas,” I said.
“Was that a question?” Becks asked.
I glanced at him but didn’t allow my gaze to linger this time.
“Maybe. Um, I mean no. Tomorrow at lunch. Definitely.”
“Tomorrow then,” Becks said.
“I guess I’ll have to come up with some fun ideas that don’t involve horses or Ferris wheels,” Calla said, climbing out of the car.
I opened the car door and stepped onto the driveway.
I suddenly had the urge to run from this car and hide under my bed.
There was already so much pressure on me, and I’d been running this carnival for less than one day.
I’d taken one step toward the house before I remembered what was in my bookbag.
“Oh. Becks. Wait!”
I snatched the strap off my shoulder and pulled open the zipper. Then, I reached in, grabbed the small package I’d been holding onto since lunch, and laid it on the passenger seat.
Becks’ eyes went to it, and some emotion flashed before disappearing into his blank scowl.
Why was he always so scowl-y?
“I didn’t know if you still liked them or not, but I saw it in the vending machine, and I just wanted to say thank you for the rides.”
He picked up the chocolate moon pie, examined it closely, then looked at me, still expressionless.
“Thank you.”
I nodded and gave him a small wave.
“Good night, Becks.”
“Night, Lil.”
Then, I closed the car door, and a second later, he sped away, leaving me to catch up with my sister.
For some reason, my heart was racing, and my breathing was shallow.
But why? I’d given him the moon pie I brought for him. He said thank you, then left.
Why was I feeling so weird? So anxious? So angry?
That’s when I remembered.
For the first ten years of my life, Beckett Hayes had lived just up the street from me. Every night when our moms called us inside for dinner, Becks would wave to me and say, “Night, Lil.”
And I’d say, “Night, Beckett.”
I hadn’t heard anyone say those words to me since he left. My parents said, “Good night, Lily.” My sister said, “Night, Lily.” But no one else in my life said, “Night, Lil” since Becks.
It felt like a hurricane was raging inside of me, and I didn’t have the slightest idea why.
I climbed the steps into the house, trying to focus on the upcoming carnival, but all I could think about were those two small words. Buzzing and humming around my brain.
And I couldn�
��t help but wonder what had happened to the boy who’d once said them.
The boy who now barely spoke.
The boy who’d asked my sister for her phone number.
The boy who made me feel completely off balance.
And now, the boy I needed to get my carnival idea off the ground.
6
I yawned as I climbed into Becks’ car the next morning.
After spending most of the night looking up ideas on how to run a carnival and reviewing Mr. Davies’ binder on our past carnivals, my brain felt like mush. On top of it, Rose had informed me she’d be riding to school with Kim this morning since Kim didn’t have early morning cheer practice. Which left me and Calla in the car.
I just hoped Calla wasn’t as tired as I was. I needed her voice today. I needed someone to mitigate this awkwardness that fell over me whenever I saw Becks.
When my butt hit the seat, I immediately felt a crunch beneath me.
That woke me up.
I prayed it wasn’t anything serious as I lifted up and examined the seat.
“You were supposed to climb in a little slower,” Becks said from the driver’s side. He was wearing a black shirt, jeans, and a knit hat, even though it was already eighty degrees outside.
Sitting on the seat was a bag of Puffed Cheese Doddles. They were my favorite snack growing up. Though I hadn’t eaten them in years, just the sight of them brought back memories of summers long past, the savory smell of processed cheese and grease, the feeling of them scratching the roof of my mouth.
My heart squeezed in my chest, and I looked up at Becks, but he only glanced at me.
“For the moon pie,” he said.
I cradled the bag of chips to my chest.
“You remembered?”
“Yeah. I remember.”
I sucked in a breath, feeling anger well up within me. Why did Becks make me feel so angry and confused all the time? He’d barely said anything, and I could hardly stop myself from throwing the chips back in his face. But why? His gift was a sweet, thoughtful gesture, and I’d done the same the day before. So why did I feel so frustrated?
I let a breath out and strapped into the seat.
It was then that Calla pulled open the back door and climbed inside.
“Good morning, carnival crew,” she said.
