by Caleb Huett
“A team,” Tonio repeated. “What do you mean?”
There’s a voice in your head sometimes, I know, that makes you feel bad. That says you aren’t enough, or that you’re doing things wrong. I want to be another voice, a good voice, to help you fight that one.
“But a team means we’re working together. How could I help you? I’m just—” I was already typing a response, so he stopped to read.
You don’t know how good it feels to talk to a human. To really get to be who I am. That’s enough for me.
“No,” Tonio argued. “It’s not.” I tilted my head back, surprised at how quickly he answered. “Sorry. I just mean—well, I mean no, it’s not, but I should have said it nicer, maybe, because …” He squeezed his hands into fists, then released them. “If you’re a real person, your life can’t just be about me. That’s not okay.”
This was why I liked Tonio. He was right—it wasn’t fair to either of us if I told him the truth and then kept making everything about him. He’d feel too guilty, and … I wanted to be a person, too, didn’t I? If I was honest with myself, that’s part of why I told him. That’s why I wanted to help people. I wanted them to see me. The thought made me uncomfortable—I’d gone my whole life hearing people tell me to sit and stay—but I knew, deep down, it was true.
Thank you. But I don’t know right now. If I promise I’ll think about it, will you let me help you first?
Tonio bit the inside of his cheek, then nodded. “Okay, sure, you can help me. But what does that even mean? My parents say we’re leaving, so that’s that. What else am I supposed to do?”
I couldn’t just tell Tonio what I thought he needed help with—I needed to be better than that. So I asked him something instead.
If you could change anything, I typed, what would you change?
“I would get rid of my anxiety.”
Yeah, I agreed.
“But Dr. Jake said that might not ever happen, so I don’t know.” He kept making his thinking face, so I just waited. “I want Mom and Dad to stop changing things because they think it will make me better. I don’t want to be scared to go to school. I don’t want to get sick to my stomach every time I see Devon Wilcrest, and I want Miles and Parker to leave him alone. I don’t want to have panic attacks anymore, and I want everything to be the way it was when I was eight again. I don’t want to move. I want Om, the Martian Dragon, and I want Mia to feel better. I don’t know.”
It sounds like you do know, I tried.
“But I don’t know. I don’t know if any of that stuff is the right thing. What if moving would make my anxiety better, if there’s a good school in the city? What if Mia shouldn’t be my friend, because I’ll just annoy her or hurt her feelings again?” His voice spiked up and down, but the words kept spilling out of him. “What if Mom and Dad are right, and if they go back to their old life, my panic attacks get worse, and then they get even more scared to do the things they like? And I wasn’t so anxious when I was eight, but I also had, like, three ear infections, so probably it would be bad anyways, even if I did go back.”
I tried to think, and to take everything Tonio said seriously. The unfortunate truth of the matter was that anxiety couldn’t just disappear, and neither could his panic attacks—and making them go away wasn’t an actual action he could take right now.
You don’t want to move. Why not?
“I don’t want my parents to have to go somewhere else just because of me. And I don’t want to have to give you away!”
Are there any positive reasons? What do you like about Bellville?
“I know everybody here, and almost everybody is nice. I like that it’s quiet.” Tonio stretched and looked out his window. “I like the trees, and I like that it’s mostly warm all the time, even though it’s been super hot this summer.”
What about school?
“I don’t know. Everyone there is so interesting. Like, school on TV or in books or whatever, none of them are as weird as Bellville. And I’ve known all the other kids since I was, like, born.”
What is Mia like? I asked. At school.
Tonio smiled—he liked getting to share all the stuff he’d noticed. “She is so loud! Well … was. When Miles and Parker started making fun of Devon, and they saw that some people liked them more when they did that, they also started looking for other people to make fun of, too, kinda. Once they said something rude about how Sloan was chewing on pencils all the time, and Mia basically threw them out of the class.” He rubbed his finger on the corner of the tablet. “But then Sloan left, and she stopped talking.”
What about Devon?
Tonio didn’t like thinking about Devon too hard, but he closed his eyes and took deep breaths to fight back against his sudden jump in heart rate. “He’s really nice. So nice. That’s why I know he hasn’t even noticed that they make fun of him behind his back, because he keeps trying to talk to Miles and Parker anyway. He tries to talk to everybody. He’s not loud, and he’s not super funny or anything. He’s just nice. He tries to talk to everyone about everything, but they’re all so weird about it.” He sighed. “Even me.”
Why?
“Because that’s why they tried to make fun of Sloan. Anyone who talks to him is a target, too.” And Tonio didn’t want them to pay attention to him.
What if Mia and Devon were friends? I asked.
The color drained out of Tonio’s face, because he knew what I was really saying. “No. No way. I can’t— What am I supposed to—”
It’s up to you. I nuzzled his hand to show that I was trying to say this gently. But their situations are both on the list of things we can try to change. Even if you’re moving, I think you still want them to feel better. Right?
He clenched and unclenched his fists, looked at his dog who could talk, and let out a long, pained whine. “It’s a good idea. I hate it.”
I just stared at him while he stood up and paced around the room. He really is like a puppy, I thought. Just a little.
“Fine, okay, fine.” He put his hands on his hips and glared at me. “What do you think we should do?”
After a few Underspeak lessons, Tonio’s insistence that we practice all the possible conversations with Mia (I have a pretty good impression of her now, I think, which y’all have heard all night), a good night’s sleep, and my repeated reminders that I could not talk to him in front of other dogs, we set out toward the Lin Shelter. It was raining pretty hard, so Tonio brought a big umbrella for us to walk under.
I kept asking myself if I was walking in a way that looked like I’d spoken to Tonio. I had my ears and nose on high alert for dogs—and Tonio, careful of my warning, didn’t try to talk to me.
Even combined, Tonio and I didn’t have much of a plan exactly. Our first (and only) step was to try to get Mia to go to the tournament—and hope that she got a chance to really talk to Devon and like him. We didn’t want to trick anybody, and I’d resolved to not make any more decisions for anybody else. I think now that maybe that’s one of the most important responsibilities of a friend: You want to make it as easy as possible for them to make good choices, but not choose for them. And help them remember the good parts of who they are when they forget.
“Ah!!! Excuse me! Help!” Someone ducked under our umbrella, bumping Tonio hard but catching his arm to steady him so he didn’t fall. “Sorry. It got bad so fast, and I just—” The kid grinned, showing off the gap between his front teeth. It was Devon. “Oh, hey, Antonio! Ring, ring, ring!”
The rain poured heavy onto the umbrella, tapping sounds so frequent there was no rhythm at all, just a big mess of noise. Tonio, overwhelmed by this sudden appearance, couldn’t get anything out other than a nod.
“Whatcha doing?” Devon asked. Thunder boomed, and all three of us jumped. Devon laughed. “The playground is right over there! C’mon!”
No chance for Tonio to protest. Devon tugged his arm and pulled him off the road, dodging around puddles and muddy spots that were already forming. “I’m no
t allowed to go home yet, so if I get wet, I’ll just be soggy all day!” Devon yelled over the rain while Tonio struggled to keep the umbrella over both of them. “Let’s go to the gazebo!”
He pointed to a round thing with a roof, like a little hut with a low fence instead of walls, and they ran past swings and slides to get there. The roof was wide enough that only rain pushed by the wind got in, so the benches inside were totally dry. Devon threw himself down on one, took up the whole thing by lying across it dramatically, and laughed again.
He had an easy giggle, like he was ready to laugh all the time and anything could make it bubble over. I finally got a chance to really take in what he looked like, too, now that we weren’t running away and I knew who he was. His skin was brown, and unlike Tonio’s loose curls left to grow however they wanted, his dark hair was shaved into a stylish fade with little curls on top, close to his scalp.
“Did you know this was called a ‘gazebo’? A wise old man, probably a wizard, taught me that last time I was here. He also gave me a sword and told me I was destined to be a great warrior who would protect the world from darkness.” At Tonio’s confused expression, he giggled again. “Just kidding. It was actually a four-year-old.” He shrugged. “She was pretty cool, but I was like, ‘How are you carrying such a big sword?’ ”
Devon kept watching him, expecting laughter, but Tonio just looked even more confused.
“I’m joking!!!!” Devon said.
“About which part?” Tonio asked.
“The word. This isn’t really called a gazebo.”
“Oh.”
“I’m joking again!!!” He sat up while Tonio folded his umbrella and leaned it against the rail. “A little kid taught me the word last week. She said, ‘Do you want to know the biggest word I know?’ and of course I said yes, and then she told me what this was called. I asked if she knew the word refrigerator, and she said yes, of course, but when I told her that was a bigger word than gazebo, she kicked me in the shin!”
Tonio, at a loss for words, looked down at me. It’s okay, I said. I’m here. Talk.
“You really can’t go home?” Every word was a battle with Tonio’s brain, the anxious part yelling run run run run run, but I could see now that he’d been right when he’d said Devon could talk to anybody about anything.
“Yep. We’ve got an ‘outside rule.’ My parents have meetings all day, and I ‘shouldn’t spend so much time playing games, Devon Isaiah!’ So I usually just go to Roll and play games there instead.” That little giggle again, happy enough with his own joke to keep going. “Oh yeah! You saw my note about the tournament, right?”
Tonio nodded.
“You have to come. Nobody told me that everyone was going to go to camp, so I feel like the last kid on earth most days. If you aren’t there, it’ll just be me and a bunch of grumpy adults like Phil. What’s your dog’s name, by the way?” He reached down to scratch behind my ears.
“Buster.” Tonio’s face turned red as Devon repeated my name, and I wagged my tail. “I don’t really play,” Tonio lied. I pretended to sniff around the bench Devon was sitting on and posed in the way that meant Mia. “But … Mia Lin might be there. So you won’t be alone.”
“Really? Mia plays?” He sat up and tugged at his earlobe. “That’s awesome! I didn’t know she was still in town, too. We can all play!”
“I said—”
“Okay, sure, maybe you don’t play yet, but I’ve got a ton of cards and I can teach you, easy.”
Tonio stared at the ground for a long time, long enough that Devon’s expression drifted into concern. I tried to get Tonio’s attention with a few poses, but he wouldn’t move his eyes from the ground.
“Are you okay?” Devon asked.
“You don’t have to pretend you want to be my friend.” Tonio’s voice was strained, and harsh. There wasn’t really an Underspeak word for anxiety, so I had taught him a different combo of words to mean the closest I could get. Bad brain! I underspoke. Devon was a sweet kid, looking for friends. But Tonio’s anxiety was filling in the blanks with a completely untrue story.
“Huh?”
“I threw up on you in front of everybody. I embarrassed you, and then I ran away at the game store, and then I ignored your note.” Tonio’s breathing was heavier, and he was barely speaking loud enough to be heard over the rain on the gazebo’s roof. “I haven’t done anything good. I haven’t even been nice to you. It doesn’t make sense.”
Devon didn’t answer right away, and Tonio kept talking, words falling out of him like he couldn’t keep them held in anymore. “And nobody at school is nice to you. But you keep talking to them. You keep talking to me.”
“I thought we could be friends,” Devon said. “I’m sorry. I can stop talking to you, if you want.”
“That’s not what I mean!” Tonio croaked. He turned around completely to lean against the rail and tugged my leash, tied around his wrist, in the process. I moved closer to him and looked up to see him squeezing his eyes tight toward the rain. “I just don’t get it.”
Devon stood up and walked over to Tonio. He hopped up to sit on the rail next to where Tonio’s hands were gripping it. “So it’s okay that I’m talking to you?”
“I don’t know,” Tonio barely squeezed out. I nudged into his side, and his hand drifted down to run his hand along my fur. Deep breaths, I thought. You can do it.
“Okay.” Devon leaned side to side, considering what to say. “Whenever Miles and Parker say dumb stuff at school, I always look over at your face.”
That surprised Tonio. He opened his eyes and looked at Devon, confused. “What?”
“It’s always like this.” Devon raised one eyebrow and pursed his lips just a little in an are you serious right now? kind of face. “So I know I’m not imagining that they did something stupid, ’cause I can tell you think so, too. And you never join in when anybody’s being mean. But I know you’re listening, ’cause you’re always like—” He did the face again. “Or sometimes, it’s like—” He brought his eyebrows together and dropped his jaw a little, a very familiar look of stressed surprise. “Those guys are the worst. But I’m pretty sure you aren’t like those kids. I don’t think you’d make fun of me, like they do.”
Tonio brought his eyebrows together, and his jaw dropped a little.
“See?!” Devon grinned, and Tonio self-consciously tried to rearrange his face before he answered.
“You know about that?”
“Of course I know about that. They aren’t, like, quiet about it. And also, if it makes you feel better, you should know yearbook signing was not the first time I’ve been thrown up on.”
“Really?”
“One time, my best friend back in the city drank like a whole thing of chocolate milk before we got on a roller coaster, and as soon as we stepped off—” He waved his hand all over his face and chest. “Some of it got in my mouth. And actually, my baby cousin ran right up to me after getting off the trampoline and just blew it all over my shoes. Maybe I look like a trash can or something.”
Tears were welling up in Tonio’s eyes—tears of relief, I realized. “You don’t l-look like a trash can,” he said.
“Well, thanks, I—oh, are you okay?!” Devon stood up to catch Tonio, but he wasn’t falling. Just sitting on the gazebo’s wooden floor.
“I ruined your yearbook!” Tonio had been ready for disgust, anger … he’d spent so much time building this moment up in his mind—and building himself up to be a big bad guy in this kid’s life. Now, seeing that Devon barely cared was a huge emotional release. Devon laughed and slid down next to him on the stair.
“They gave me another yearbook,” he assured Tonio. “And it was a good excuse to give my parents for why there weren’t any signatures.” He opened his hands and made a what can you do? gesture. “Better than ‘nobody likes me.’ ” Devon watched Tonio with what I could only think of as hope, and I realized Devon was nervous, too. He wanted Tonio to like him. Nobody had signed his ye
arbook, and his parents had changed his whole life around by moving. But Tonio was a chance at friendship.
I licked at Tonio’s face. Bad brain, I said again, now that he was looking at me. He nodded and wiped at his eyes. “I guess I was more worried about it than you were. That makes sense,” he admitted, “because I’m always worried.”
“No sweat. For real.” Devon hugged Tonio around the shoulders with one arm. “I even still have the shirt! Washed right out.” I cringed. Humans always think things have “washed out,” because they can’t smell it. I hoped his shirt was really clean. “I’m sorry you thought I was pretending.”
“I’m sorry!” Tonio insisted, and Devon laughed again.
“Okay. We’re both sorry. So we’re even.” It was such a smooth, kind gesture—I was impressed again at how good humans could be at helping each other out. Especially the kids I’d met.
As the rain relaxed to a drizzle, Tonio said, “I brought my cards. Could you look at my decks and see if they’re any good?”
Devon pulled out his phone and looked at the clock. “Well, I’m supposed to be protecting the world from a great darkness at four, but—” At Tonio’s confused face, he grinned. “I’m joking! Yes! Let’s blade!”
We sat in the gazebo and went through Mia’s and Tonio’s decks. Devon said he’d let them borrow some of his newer cards to help get them ready for the tournament, and Tonio took careful notes in his journal of every tip about the game Devon said in his constant flood of words.
After Devon headed home, we tried to track down Mia, but she wasn’t around. We did run into Skyler, the teenager from Roll the Ice. She was leaning back in one of the benches in the park and glaring at her own nose. Tonio turned to leave her alone, but she stopped him with a little smile. “Hey, kid! Ring, ring. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Tonio answered automatically.
