The hospital’s doing better than it was this time last year, my baby girl is doing well, and…well, that’s enough, I think. I’m not sure I can think of any one best thing, but I think just getting through this year is going to be enough. Oh, a few weeks ago you got those great test results! Maybe that was the best thing.
—John Garfinkel, 49, Physician in Chief at Linefield and West Memorial Hospital
Hmmm, I don’t knooooooow…
—Claire Lennon, 16, dead
So Georgia—the country, not the state—has been participating in the Olympics since 1994. They’ve won a fair number of medals in the Summer Olympics, but nothing ever in the winter. It’s not really a Winter Olympics kind of country. So when Rusudani Mudziri was born in 1990 in Georgia, and she wanted to be an Olympic figure skater from just about the moment she could walk… I mean, first of all, they weren’t even an independent country then, let alone one in the Olympics. And on top of that, Rusudani has kind of the classic tragic backstory—raised in poverty, born to a teen mom, war-torn country. But she works her whole life, practicing constantly, training, all sorts of skating things I don’t know the ins and outs of. But tons of work. Her mom makes all her outfits because they don’t have the money to buy them; her whole family throws every kind of support behind her they can. And, all right, it’s Olympic qualifiers, and she wouldn’t be the first skater from Georgia to go to the Olympics, but she’d be, I believe, the seventh, so it’s a small number. And she gets hurt. Messes up her knee, and she thinks, you know, that’s it. All of this training, all of these people rooting for me, nothing. And on top of all that, she gets pregnant. So now she’s messed up her knee, she has a little baby, she’s getting old—in Olympic terms—everyone has counted her out. But she shows up, and she gets in. And this year, Rusudani Mudziri won the gold medal in figure skating at the Winter Olympics, and I feel like just in terms of…of small, sweet, lovely things, that might be the best thing that happened this year. Also I got a girlfriend.
—Sasha Sverdlov-Deckler, 16, boyfriend
Chapter Fourteen
Sasha and I spend just about all of winter break together.
He takes me to the castle in Central Park. We bring his brothers to Cedar Hill for sledding. We watch horror movies on his couch with Nutella hot chocolate spiked with cayenne pepper when his dad’s there, and RumChata when he’s not. We take naps every single day. He even comes to the hospital with me for dinner with my dad once or twice. But mostly it’s his family, and they fold me in easily and gently, like his dad folds blueberries into muffin batter on Sunday mornings.
What’s amazing is how much hasn’t changed. We haven’t turned into romance people. We have the same conversations we’ve always had. We can be in the same room together and act like friends. And most of the time we do. But when we don’t…oh God.
We’re both new to relationships, so we’re taking it slow, but sometimes when he kisses me goodnight he runs his fingers lightly up my sides and I want to melt into a puddle on my snowy front steps.
He still makes me laugh.
…
While we’re in the throes of domestic bliss or whatever, there’s an issue on the other side of my life. Luna’s parents have shut down the New Year’s Eve party. I can’t really blame them. We really fucked up that apartment last year. But she’s the only one of us with parents who go out on New Year’s, so we don’t really have another option.
Even I love Luna’s New Year’s Eve parties. She’s been throwing them every year since she moved here. Luna has her hands in a lot of different crowds, so a huge number of people always show up, though it’s mostly the drama kids and they know how to have a good time. I don’t know why movies about teenagers are always on about the parties the jocks throw. Drama kids are trouble.
We have lunch, the five of us plus Sasha plus Tyson, the new guy Ashley’s seeing, at the diner in Sunnyside before New Year’s. Luna just got home from seeing her family in Jamaica for Christmas, and she still has sunglasses on her head, like she can’t quite accept being back in New York.
“We could try doing it at my place,” Ashley says. “My parents would probably leave us alone if we asked them really nicely and I promised I’d clean everything up.”
“So would my dad,” I say, though I can’t imagine all those people in our tiny, pristine little house.
Sasha wipes his mouth with a napkin. “We could do it at my place. My dad’s going to a party with his new girlfriend.”
“What about your siblings?” I ask.
“My brothers are going to be with their mom, and my sister will probably just stay in her room, but she’s in high school, she’ll fit in if she wants to.”
Luna says, “Sasha, seriously? You’re my hero.”
He looks down at his waffle and does this sheepish grin that makes me want to die right on the checkered floor. “It’s no problem,” he says. “My dad will probably be happy I’m doing things like a normal teenager.”
“And you can invite all your friends, too,” Luna says. “Totally, it can be like an…interschool mixer. We can marry people off.”
“Cool,” Sasha says.
I say, “You don’t have a fake ID, do you?”
“No…”
I give him a look that’s like see, you’re welcome and say to the girls, “So someone else needs to get stuff.”
“I can do it,” Luna says. “I’m not going to foist the whole party off on you just because it’s your house. Oh, see if you can get decorations, though? Something, like…twinkly.”
“Do you need an ID for those?” Sasha says, and I kick his leg—carefully, since he’s got those bird bones—under the table. He looks up at me, grins, and stuffs way too much waffle into his mouth.
“I’m not sure you know what you’ve signed on for, here,” I tell him later, when we’re riding the subway back to Manhattan. The train’s pretty empty right now, but once we get to the Times Square station it’ll be packed full of tourists and shopping bags. People who come between Christmas and New Year’s always think they’re going to be the only people who thought of coming then.
“I’m a hundred percent sure that I definitely have no idea what I’ve signed on for,” Sasha says. “Do I look like I throw a lot of parties?”
“Host,” I say. “You host, Luna throws.”
“See, I don’t even know the lingo.”
“I’ll help you,” I say. “It was really sweet of you to step in like that.”
He shrugs. “I like your friends. I want them to like me.” He blows on his hands. “Can you help me find something twinkly?”
“Yes.”
He kisses me.
…
“I don’t know about this,” my dad says. It’s New Year’s Eve morning and I’m about to head over to Sasha’s to help him set up. It’s also the first I’m telling my dad about the party.
“Dad,” I say.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to just let you sleep over at a boy’s house.”
“It’s not like an intimate sleepover. Fifty people are going to be there. And it’s a lot safer than me coming home at one a.m. on the subway with a host of drunk tourists.” I pull on my boots and put my Snow Ball flats in a tote bag, along with my meds and a skirt to change into.
“Yes, I’m not suggesting you go and come back at one a.m.”
I straighten out, holding on to the edge of my bed for balance. “You let me go every other year when it’s at Luna’s house,” I say. “You know there were boys there, too, right?”
“And none of them were your boyfriend.”
“I thought you liked Sasha.” I know I’m being manipulative. But I can’t miss this party.
“I do!”
“And don’t you trust me?” I’m awful. I’m the worst.
He tilts his head to the side. “You know I do.�
�
“It’s a big crowded party,” I say. “We’re gonna sleep on the floor like kids. I’m going to have two drinks and that’s it, and I’ll text you before I go to bed.”
He sighs. “It’s times like this I wish your mother was here.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing and shift from foot to foot and wish he would just make the call so I could get as far away from this conversation as possible.
“All right,” he says. “Go. Don’t make me regret it.”
…
“Where are you setting up food?” Nadia asks.
Sasha and I are on opposite sides of his living room, putting up a snowflake garland. “Uh, I don’t know,” he says. “What’s wrong with just having it in the kitchen?”
“Well, the drinks are gonna be in the kitchen,” Nadia says. “So it’s going to be pretty crowded.”
I say, “Plus you don’t want it to be one of those parties where everyone hangs out in the kitchen because that’s where everything is and no one even comes out and sees our awesome snowflake garland.”
Nadia hands me some tape. “Exactly.”
“Um…” Sasha looks around. He has a piece of tape hanging off his lip. “In here, I guess, then? We could put up like…one of those folding tables.”
“That works,” I say.
Nadia says, “Not unless someone is bringing a folding table with them.”
“We don’t have a folding table?” Sasha says.
“Why would we just have a folding table?”
“They’re very convenient!” Sasha says. “Folding tables are a vital piece of household equipment!”
“You guys have got to stop saying ‘folding table,’” I say. “My side’s done.”
“Yeah, mine too,” Sasha says.
“It looks good,” Nadia says. “Very festive.”
The buzzer goes off, and Sasha’s face loses any color it had in the first place. “Why is someone here? They’re not supposed to be here for an hour.”
“It’s just Luna,” I say. “She brought cupcakes.”
“Oh, okay.”
Nadia buzzes Luna in, and she comes up the stairs instead of using the elevator. We can hear her heels clicking from a floor away. She comes in with her hair piled on top of her head and sparkles on her cheeks. “Hiiii!” she says. She hands me the cupcakes and puts her coat in the closet. She’s wearing this yellow dress that makes her skin glow.
“Hi, Luna,” Sasha says. “You look beautiful. Quick question: is everyone gonna be looking that beautiful?”
Luna looks at me.
“The girls usually dress up,” I tell him. “The guys, they wear whatever. They’re animals.”
He says, “Yeah, but I still want to blend in with the humans.”
“I was gonna tell you to change.”
He groans and heads to his room. I laugh a little.
“What are you wearing?” Luna says.
“Uh, this top. I brought a skirt.”
“A skirt? Isabel.” She looks around. “It’s not exactly sparkly in here. We’ll have to dim the lights.”
“It’s the best we could find. And I wore the only nice dress I have to the Snow Ball. I didn’t have tits last time I went shopping.”
“You can borrow something of mine,” Nadia says. “I have tits.”
I hold up my finger. “I didn’t say that word in front of you.”
“I’m fourteen, not seven.”
“I like her,” Luna says, and Nadia blushes.
“Come on,” she says. “I had to go to, like, twenty-five bat mitzvahs last year. I have plenty of dresses.”
“Where are we putting the food?” Luna calls as we go to Nadia’s room.
“Did you bring a folding table?” Nadia yells back, and I smack her shoulder and say, “Just put it on the coffee table.”
Nadia flops on her bed while I go through her closet. “Did you throw parties when you were my age?” she asks me.
“I don’t even throw parties now,” I say. “This is all Luna. And Sasha, I guess.”
“He’s really nervous,” she says.
“I know. It’s funny. I’ve never seen him like this before. It’s just some dumb party. As long as there’s alcohol, people are gonna be happy. And there’s plenty of alcohol.” Luna dropped it all off yesterday.
“He doesn’t want to let you down,” Nadia says.
I say, “Hey, do you know if any of his friends are coming tonight?”
“Uh, no, I don’t think so.”
“Hmm.” I pull out a dress. “What about this one?” It’s black and made of some kind of stiff fabric.
“Yeah, that’s a good one.”
I step out of my joggers and pull my shirt off. “Did you invite any of yours? Sasha was supposed to tell you that you could.”
“Yeah, he did.” She shrugs.
“Well,” I say. “It was kind of last minute. They probably had plans already.”
She looks grateful. “Yeah. Do you want help with the zipper?”
“Yeah, thanks.” I pull my hair to the side while she zips me up. “Y’know…” I say slowly. “Sasha’s my first boyfriend.”
She pauses on the zipper. “He is?”
“Yep. I didn’t want to rush anything. Dating made me uncomfortable, and I didn’t… I realized I didn’t have to do things that made me uncomfortable just because other people were telling me that being uncomfortable was normal.” I don’t know if I’ve actually learned this, but it still sounds like something I wish someone had told me when I was fourteen.
She finishes the zipper and looks over my shoulder at my reflection. “That looks really good on you.”
“I bet it looks good on you, too.” I step back into my shoes. “Are you gonna hang out in here?” I ask her.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Cool,” I say. “I’ll bring you a cupcake.”
She smiles.
…
I really don’t know why we bother dressing up. It’s still an hour until midnight and we already have our shoes off, and our hair is a mess, and four of us are half naked on the couch. Plus there’s just something so useless about putting on a strapless bra to drink cheap vodka out of red cups.
I’m two drinks in, in that perfect spot where I’m too drunk to be aware of my joints but not so drunk that I’m doing stupid shit that’s going to make me wake up tomorrow and really, really wish I had been feeling my joints. Luna is trashed, which always makes her accent come out, so everyone’s having her say weird shit and then squealing at how cute she sounds, and she’s living off the applause like Tinker Bell. Siobhan’s next to her, drinking and blushing, and Maura and Ashley are dancing on the coffee table next to the suitcase. Ashley still has her heels on.
Sasha rushes by me with two empty bowls and hands me one of them. “Can you help me with this?”
“Yep.” I follow him to the kitchen and find the bag of cheese curls. “Have these people not eaten this whole break?”
“Maybe I should order pizza,” he says.
“At eleven on New Year’s Eve?”
“Oh yeah.” He pushes his hair back.
“You gotta relax,” I say. “It’s a party! It’s supposed to be fun.”
“What happened to us being boring people who don’t do anything?” he says. “That was fun.”
“We’re on vacation for the night,” I say. “We’re party humans tonight.”
“Party humans must drink more caffeine than I do,” he says.
I look into the living room. “Yeah, it’s not caffeine.”
He chuckles. “I’m getting another drink.”
“Good call.”
“You want anything?”
“I’m fine,” I say. He trails his fingers across my back
on his way to the drink table. I shiver a little and say, “Hang on.”
He stops. “Yeah?”
I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, slow and deep.
He laughs a little with his forehead against mine. “You’re drunk.”
“No I’m not.” I pull on his sweater. “Let’s go sit down. You’ve been running around all night.”
“I have to make sure no one pukes in my brothers’ room or pees on the credenza,” he says.
“These people don’t even know what a credenza is. Neither do I.”
“You can pee on something without knowing what it is,” he says.
“Hmm.”
He kisses my nose and heads back to the living room.
Ashley’s still on the coffee table when I go back in, but she’s replaced Maura with Tyson, and they’re doing some sort of dancing-making-out hybrid that I would really like to try, but my boyfriend’s too busy getting people drink refills.
Maura grabs my arm. “I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah, hey, what’s wrong?”
“Not here.”
“Okay, let’s go out to the hallway?”
She nods and follows me out, stumbling a little. She’s definitely had more than two drinks.
I don’t even have the apartment door closed before she says, “Am I going to be alone forever?”
“What?”
“Ashley has a boyfriend, you have a boyfriend, Luna and Siobhan have Luna and Siobhan, and I’m alone. I’m always alone.”
I’m an insensitive jerk, I know, but she does this every single time she drinks, and I really didn’t want to deal with this tonight. I take a deep breath. “Hey.” I hold her by the shoulders. “You are not alone. You have me.”
“Is there something wrong with me?”
“Besides being really drunk?”
“Your boyfriend is so nice,” she says. “Why are all the boys I meet horrible?”
“Because most of them are horrible,” I say. “Come on, let’s go back inside and get you some water.”
“Maybe I should become a lesbian,” Maura says.
“Good idea,” I say, because there’s no point arguing with her when she’s like this. She’s not gonna remember it tomorrow anyway.
Sick Kids In Love Page 14
