Different

by Janet McLaughlin

  Finally, he starts talking.

  Chapter 37

  “Have you ever done something really stupid?” Jamie says. “Something you’re so ashamed of that you’re glad nobody knows about it?”

  I nod, though I don’t think he wants an answer. He’s not even looking at me.

  “After I took that poster from Mrs. Morgan’s room and found out how much it meant to her, I felt so guilty. I wanted to put it back, but my sister loved it so much I couldn’t take it away from her.”

  “Wait. You took it for your sister?”

  “Yeah. Mom took her out of the day care center she was in and started homeschooling her. I wanted to make the room feel more like school for her. So I took some posters. No big deal, right? They made her so happy, like she was a part of something normal.”

  I totally get that. “I bet if you told Mrs. Morgan, she would understand.”

  He shrugs. “I didn’t want her to think I was a thief, which I guess I was.”

  “Is that why you didn’t stay at the restaurant for your sister’s birthday party? Because you thought I’d say something to your parents?”

  He shrugs. “I told my mom the teachers gave me the posters. I guess they would have if I asked. But I didn’t want to go through the whole explanation about Katie. I hate when people pity her. She’s so cool. So smart. To me, she’s just my little sister.”

  I tap, tap, tap him gently on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t tell, Jamie. But I guess you didn’t know that because you don’t really know me.”

  Jamie mumbles something that sounds like “Yeah.”

  We sit quietly for a moment, but something still bugs me about it all. Something I can’t let go. “What about all the bruises?”

  He doesn’t answer me.

  “I told you everything about me,” I say. “Everything. I trusted you, Jamie. Now you have to trust me.”

  “It’s embarrassing,” he says.

  Frustrated, I grunt. Tap, tap, tap his shoulder. Bend over and touch the ground and grunt again. “Please don’t talk to me about embarrassing. I’ve lived with it my whole life.”

  He looks my way. “I guess you do know.” He hesitates then blurts out, “I got them trying to make Katie laugh.”

  “Why is that embarrassing?”

  He shakes his head. “Because I’m a class-A klutz. I’m always messing up in team sports. The only reason I’m on track is because it doesn’t take a lot of coordination. And I have stamina so I can do cross country races. I may not come in first, but I always finish. Plus, they’re not picky. They need all the runners they can get.”

  “Sounds a little like our softball team.”

  Jamie smiles at that. “Yeah. I noticed you didn’t have a deep bench.”

  He noticed that we don’t have a lot of players? He actually noticed? I file that away to think about later and turn my attention back to the conversation.

  “So the bruise on your side and the black eye?” I ask.

  “It was so stupid. I was riding my bike, and Katie was sitting on the porch in her chair. I shouted to her to watch. ‘I’ll do a wheelie for you.’ But I fell and caught my side on the handles bars.”

  I don’t say anything. Afraid if I do he’ll stop talking.

  Jamie looks up at me. “I told you it was stupid.”

  I reach over and gently touch his shoulder, only once this time. “I don’t think it’s stupid. If I had a sister or brother, I hope they would feel the same way about me.” Of course, I have to know it all. “What about the black eye?”

  Jamie looks away. I wait. Give him some time and space.

  “Sometimes my sister can’t control her movements. Sometimes her arms jerk and lash out. I was sitting by her, and her fist hit me in the eye. I don’t like to talk about it because it makes her feel bad.”

  “Poor Katie,” I say.

  “I don’t think she’d want you to feel sorry for her. She’s a great kid. Really smart, though some people just assume she’s dumb because of the way she looks and acts.”

  “Wow. Do I understand that!”

  Jamie looks at me like maybe for the first time he really sees me. “I guess you do.”

  I smile and grunt at the same time, which must look really strange, but I don’t care. I feel free. Sharing secrets can do that, I guess.

  “Jamie.” He looks at me. “Thanks for telling me. I promise I won’t say anything.”

  “Same here.” He puts his hand out, and I shake it.

  I drop his hand quickly, not sure about the tingling feeling that’s working its way up my body. I tap, tap, tap the bench. Bend over and play with my laces.

  “Something wrong?” he asks.

  I shake my head. The words “I love you, Jamie” tickle my tongue. I bite my lip until it hurts. I will not say them. Not. Not. Not.

  “Hey, Izzy!” It’s Abbie, calling from the door of the building. I am so happy to see her, I jump up and skate over to her.

  “I was looking all over for you.” She stares at Jamie who’s standing next to the bench. “Why are the two of you out here?”

  “We’re just talking,” I say. “In fact, we were just about to come in. I’m starving.”

  Abbie glides over to Jamie. “Glad you could come.” She glances down at his shoes. “Aren’t you going to skate?”

  Jamie shrugs. “I’m kind of a klutz, as you might have noticed.” He points to his eye. It’s almost totally healed, but it still has a little yellow bruising left. He’s acting like it was his fault. Protecting his sister. He smiles and glances my way. “But I guess I’ll give it a try.”

  I tap, tap, tap him on the shoulder. This time he doesn’t pull away. Again that tingle starts at my toes and works its way up my body. And it has nothing to do with a tic.

  “Great!” Abbie says. “Now come and eat before there’s no food left.”

  Abbie grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door. “I want all the details,” she whispers to me.

  I glance at Jamie, trailing behind us. Not this time, Abbie. I have a promise to keep.

  Chapter 38

  A week passes. Jamie’s been really nice to me ever since the party, even though some of the boys tease him about it, saying, “Jamie’s got a girlfriend.”

  I don’t know for sure if he feels that way about me. Like a girlfriend, I mean. Abbie said she’d find out. As far as I’m concerned, he’s the cutest—and the nicest—guy in school. He did invite me to come over and meet Katie. He said she could use some friends. I like that idea. A lot.

  The talk with Jamie also helped me make up my mind about something else. I don’t have the courage yet to tell everyone about my Tourette’s, but I want to tell my softball team. They deserve to know.

  So here I am, standing in front of them. And I’m more nervous than I was the first time I took the field.

  “Everyone take a seat,” Coach says. We’re in the dugout getting ready for practice. “Izzy has something she wants to tell you.”

  It’s a hot, sticky afternoon. I wipe nervous sweat from my face with my sleeve, turn a grunt into a cough. Everyone is staring, waiting. I look at Abbie and Hannah. Hannah smiles her encouragement, and Abbie points two fingers at me, then at her eyes, her sign for “stay calm and look at me if you need to.”

  I clear my throat, punch, punch, punch my glove and stop myself just in time from reaching down to touch the ground.

  I look over at Abbie and pretend I’m talking just to her. “I wanted to tell all of you that I have—” I hesitate. This is harder than I thought. I look down, take a breath and start over. “I have a disorder called Tourette Syndrome. Those things you see me do—like the tapping and the grunting—I don’t want to do them. I’d stop if I could, but my body doesn’t always listen to me.”

  “I don’t get it,” Ashley says. “How can your body do something you don’t want it to do?”

  “That a good question,” I say. “Maybe this will help you understand. Everybody, try to not blink for a whole minute.”r />
  I watch as each of them hold their eyes wide open. Some look all around, struggling not to close their eyes. But, no matter how hard they try, they can’t stop themselves.

  “Wow,” Ashley says. “That’s really hard. I didn’t last 10 seconds.”

  “Yeah”—I tap, tap, tap Ashley on the shoulder—“That’s kind of what I go through most of the time.”

  After that, I get tons of questions from my teammates. I answer them as best I can.

  I don’t tell them about the OCD stuff. It was hard enough talking about Tourette’s. Funny thing is that OCD helps me with softball. I’m kind of obsessed with hitting the ball over the fence so I’ve been spending a lot of time in the batting cage practicing. Even Coach noticed my swing is better.

  After the talk, most of the girls come up to me and thank me for telling them. Even Meghan.

  “I wish you’d have said something sooner,” she says. “I thought you were just goofing off in the field. By the way, you’re doing a lot better out there.”

  I smile and nod. Sometimes people can surprise you.

  “Thanks, Izzy, for sharing that with us,” Coach says. “We all have problems to overcome. Some of them more visible like yours. Some not so much.”

  I’d never thought about any of that before. There are probably a lot of people out there with problems. We just don’t always see them.

  “Okay, everyone. Warm-up time,” Coach says.

  I actually like doing the stretches and jumping jacks now, and I’ve discovered I’m a fast runner. Even though I still touch the ground once in a while, I can keep up with everybody while we race around the field.

  I feel happy and focused. Now that I don’t have to hide my tics anymore, I’m hoping I’ll do them less often.

  We take the field, and Coach starts us off with batting practice.

  I’m last at bat, and Meghan is on the mound. She’s one of our fastest pitchers. At first, I mostly hit infield grounders, but as I get used to her speed I start hitting past the short stop or second baseman and into the outfield.

  Meghan sets for another pitch.

  I take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and focus. I watch closely as she does her wind-up. I see her release the ball. And I time it perfectly.

  Crack! Just from the sound of it I know. This ball is not a grounder. This ball is flying, flying.

  Over the second baseman’s head.

  Between the center and right fielders.

  Over the fence!

  “Oh. My. God. I hit a home run ball. I hit a home run ball.”

  There are a lot of “way to go” shouts from the team. Even Meghan calls out, “Nice hit.” Me? I’m doing a happy dance.

  Coach comes over, all smiles. “I knew you had it in you.” She tap, tap, taps me gently on the shoulder. “I think we’ll end batting practice with that one. Time for drills.”

  I high five Abbie on my way to right field. As I trot to my position, I spot Jamie standing by the fence. He has a softball in his hand. The softball I just slammed over the fence.

  “Nice hit,” he says.

  I smile. Punch, punch, punch the sweet spot of my glove.

  He smiles back, tosses the ball to me, and starts running toward the disappearing backs of his track team.

  Jamie saw the homerun hit! And he waited for me! I do another happy dance.

  “Palmer!” Coach calls to me. “Keep your head in the game.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, but I can’t stop the sound that comes out of my mouth. It’s more of a whoop than a grunt.

  I’m standing in right field, watching as Coach hits a grounder to the third baseman who throws it to first. Her throw is high and it sails over Abbie’s head. But I’m there, backing her up, just like a right fielder’s supposed to.

  Everybody misses a ball now and then. But it’s nice to know that there are people there, backing you up. Even people like me.

  Maybe, just maybe, I’m not so different after all.

  About Janet McLaughlin

  Janet McLaughlin is the author of the Soul Sight Mysteries series, including Haunted Echo and Fireworks. She has been involved in the communication field most of her adult life as a writer, editor, and teacher. Her love of mysteries and the mystical are evident in her novels. She is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators and the Florida Writers Association. She lives in Florida with her husband, Tom, and along with her writing, enjoys playing tennis, walking, traveling, and meeting people.

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