“Yeah.” Kaylan nods. “So weird. She seems happy in Florida, though. I mean, based on her social media vibes.”
I laugh. “Yeah, true. Sad she doesn’t really stay in touch, with, like actual communication.” I think about my camp girls, and what it would be like if we just lost touch, weren’t part of each other’s day-to-day lives. It’d be impossible to muddle through the gloom of winter without them.
“I know. Okay. Back to the list,” Kaylan instructs. “So then that means we need to come up with one more item on our own. Like right now?”
I look over the list again. “Yeah.” I hop up from the beanbag chair. “Why wait for tonight? Time to turn this room into a beach! Right now!”
I open up the sand floor mat and turn the thermostat in my room up super high. I open my bottom drawer and take out my turquoise-and-green color-blocked two-piece.
“Um, I wanted to be prepared, so . . . I’m already in a bathing suit! Your polka-dot bikini.” Kaylan falls back on the bed.
I shrug. “What else do we need? We could put some sunblock on. Just for the fragrance. I still have some in the medicine cabinet.”
“Eh, I can live without the sunblock,” Kaylan says. “Just being in a bikini makes me feel beachy.”
“Same,” I reply. “And doesn’t the floor mat make it even more realistic? Ooh, let’s get towels and lay them out on the mat, like we’re really sunbathing.”
“Yes!” Kaylan claps. “Oh, can I go get us lemonade from downstairs? Do you have mini umbrellas to put in the drinks?”
I crack up. “I don’t think so, but that would have been great. You get the lemonade. I’ll get the towels.”
When we’re all stretched out, tall glasses of lemonade next to us, Kaylan bolts up. “Oooh, epiphany alert! I know what we need to add!” She pauses and takes a sip. “Now that I’m getting my brain to be in a summer mode . . .”
“What?” I ask, tucking my feet under my legs to avoid seeing how badly I need a pedicure.
“Thank our teachers! Properly. Like in a big, meaningful way . . . before the end of the year.” Kaylan raises her eyebrows, waiting for a response. “Since this is a winter list, and we’ve always done summers, we’ve never had the opportunity to do it before. Could be awesome!”
I think for a second, not really sure what she has in mind. “Yeah, like a gratitude kind of thing.”
“Yeah, they work so hard. This would be really special.” She pauses. “And, like, Ms. Graham—she’s so amazing how she lets us express ourselves and write whatever we want to, and she gives such great feedback on our pieces. I want her to know she’s appreciated!”
I write it down. “Love it, Kay.”
Kaylan says, “We’re crushing this,” and I can see the gears turning in her brain. “Wait! That’s our list name!”
“What?” I giggle.
She stands up and curls her fist into a microphone like she’s making a bold proclamation. “Thirteen Must-Dos to Keep Crushing It as Thirteen-Year-Olds!”
She dances around in a circle, and I stand up to join her, and soon we’re doing a mini hora like we did at my bat mitzvah, only without music and by ourselves.
We fall back on the towels, out of breath, laughing, and we sip our lemonade, trying to get ahold of ourselves.
Kaylan says, “Would you hate it if we had the lunch table girls come over today since we’re on such a roll? Maybe they’re free?”
I think for a minute, and don’t answer her.
She continues, “I could text them to say they’re in charge of coming up with the last five, reminding them what we discussed at lunch. I just kinda feel like we’re in such a good groove, ya know.” She smiles at me.
I think she’s right. Why wait to finish the list? “Okay. That makes sense.”
I get up from the towel and go to type it up with the new title. “Winter lists may be our jam, Kay.”
“It’s surprising because we’re summer people.”
“You just never know,” I tell her. “You never know.”
Kaylan texts all the lunch table girls, and I finish typing up the list. We lie on our towels and stare at the ceiling as if we’re really on a beach, soaking in the rays.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock on my door. I say “Come in,” completely forgetting that Kaylan and I are lying on the floor in bikinis with the thermostat turned up to eighty degrees.
“Ari!” my mom yelps. “What is going on in here? It’s a thousand degrees. It’s sweltering hot downstairs and I couldn’t figure out why! Gemma is dripping wet!” She looks over at us. “And you’re in bathing suits!”
“Beach-themed sleepover, Mom,” I tell her. “Remember when you said I could order this floor mat?”
She groans. “Oh, right. This is too hot, though.” She walks over to the thermostat and turns it down. “Way, way, way too hot. I’m about to pass out, Ari!”
We laugh at my mom after she leaves the room.
“What if our daughters laugh at us the way we laugh at my mom?” I giggle.
“They won’t.” Kaylan’s only half paying attention because she’s texting all the lunch table girls at the same time. “We’re literally the best people; we’ll be the best moms, too. And our kids will be BFFs, no doubt.”
“Oh, that can be on one of our later lists.” I tap her knee. “Be amazing moms!”
She nods. “Mental note. Making a mental note.”
I lean over and rest my head on her shoulder, trying to picture Kaylan and me as moms, filling out forms and driving our kids all around.
I crack up at the thought; it’s just too ridiculous.
11
KAYLAN
AFTER OVER AN HOUR OF incessant Gemma annoyances and her begging over and over again to be part of our new list, we decide to go to my house for a change of scenery. We bring the sand floor mat and the bikinis, just in case we want to continue the beach-themed sleepover at my house, since Ari’s mom didn’t seem to be the hugest fan of the idea.
I check my email for the zillionth time, still waiting for a reply from my dad. I know he’s always looking at his phone, so I’m completely confused about why it took him this long to respond.
Dear Kaylan,
I’m free any evening after seven. I have to update you on some things as well. Looking forward to talking to you. Love, Dad
“Um, Ari.” She’s looking through my closet, trying to organize it by color. “Please look at this.”
She hops up on my bed and reads the email on my phone.
“What do you think it means?” I ask her.
Ari pushes her lips out in a sort of thinking, sort of duck-like face. “Um. Could really be anything . . .”
“You think he’s changed his mind? He’s moving back home?” I ask her. “But then what happens to Robert Irwin Krieger and my mom? They’re still really happy together, I think. They went together to see a show in the city a few weeks ago.”
I think about how Ari and I wanted to find a nice guy for my mom, and how we put it on the last list, and we actually succeeded. Ari’s Camp Silver BFF Zoe’s dad and my mom are actually going out. It’s funny when I think about it.
Ari laughs. “I love that they’re, like, a couple and you’re fine with it.” She shakes her head. “So bizarrely great.”
“Well, yeah, I want my mom to be happy. Duh. It’s weird, though, but I think I’m fine with it.” I stare at Ari, waiting for her to dissect my dad’s email a little more. “So what do you think? About this email, I mean. Do you think he’ll pay for comedy camp?”
She bites the inside of her lip. “I don’t know, Kay. I wish I did.”
I shove my phone back in my hoodie pocket and push all the swirling thoughts out of my head. “Okay, we’ll put that issue on hold for now. We need to focus on the list.”
Ari takes the paper out of her jeans pocket, and she shows me what we have so far:
13 Must-Dos to Keep Crushing It as 13-Year-Olds
Hula-hoop on a unicycl
e.
Start a movement.
Figure out how we feel about God.
Spend more time with Bubbie and Zeyda.
Perfect the art of persuasion, especially with Kaylan’s mom.
Train for and run a race.
Come up with many fruit-infused water varieties.
Properly thank our teachers before the end of the year.
“It’s really looking fab, Kay,” Ari tells me. “And I kind of can’t wait to see what the lunch table girls come up with.”
“I know.” My stomach rumbles again when I remember the email from my dad. “Can I text everyone to bring bathing suits and we can turn up the heat again and continue the beach theme for our meeting? Even though they’re not sleeping over. I feel like I need more beach vibes, like, right now. It calms me.”
Ari laughs and rolls her eyes at the same time. “Sure.”
“K, let’s go snack-up.” I laugh at myself. “That can be one of our new words, okay?”
“Fab. Oh! And let’s make a pitcher of fruit-infused water! Everyone can try it!” Ari wraps an arm around me. “How listy is that?”
“Super listy! And I love it!”
We get downstairs to the kitchen and my mom is cleaning out the cabinets. Like, full on. Taking out all of the plates and bowls and everything, stacking them on the table, and wiping and collecting crumbs. The whole thing.
“Mom.” I have to say it three times to get her attention. “You know my friends are coming over in like ten minutes, right? It looks like we’ve been invaded by some kitchenware-obsessed robber or something. . . .”
“Okay, well, I need to clean out sometimes, Kaylan.” She turns around, looking annoyed. “Hi, Ari.”
“Hi,” Ari replies, laughing a little.
“Go set up in the dining room,” my mom instructs. “Take whatever snacks you want from the pantry. Or go in the den, but just make sure to be neat and clean up after. Whatever you girls want to do. I just need to get some cleaning in today. It’s essential.”
I bulge my eyes at Ari and she does the same right back at me.
“Speaking of cleaning and sprucing things up,” I say, hopping up another step stool so I can be closer to my mom. “What do you think about Mrs. Etisof painting a mural in the basement?”
My mom turns around. “Huh?”
“It’s really drab down there. Don’t you agree, Ari?”
She giggles. “Um, yeah, it’s basement-y.”
My mom puts her hands on her hips. “If you finish cleaning out the basement, you can paint whatever you want.” She turns back around. “Conversation over for now. Must clean.”
The doorbell rings a few minutes later.
“OMG soooooo excited to be here for List-Making Day,” Cami sings, hanging her puffer jacket on the coat tree. “Have you guys always had like an official day for the list making or it just happened or, um, what? I mean, tell me everything!”
“Come, I’m grabbing snacks.” I crack up at Cami and pull a few things from the pantry. Once we’re settled in the den, Ari and I start to explain.
“We never had an official day; did we, Ari?” I turn to face her and she’s already snuggled under my favorite throw blanket.
“Um, no, we just made the lists. It was never this big of an event. But this list is different in every possible way. Actually, for the first one we did have the sleepover and work on it outside by the fire pit. Remember?” she asks me.
Cami widens her eyes. “Ooh, that sounds ultra fab. Too bad it’s winter. Love that we’re trying to trick our minds that it’s summer, though. When should I change into my bikini?” She grabs a mini doughnut out of the box. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Coming,” I tell her, wondering how many more questions she would ask if I didn’t jump in. “So, any list ideas? You can get a head start.”
“Ummmm.” Cami stretches her legs out onto the coffee table. “Like my socks? They were on sale. I bought ten pairs.”
“I love them,” Ari adds, only a tiny bit sarcastic.
“I’m totally leaning into the unicorn fad, what can I say?” Cami giggles. “Oooh, that should be on the list! Find a unicorn!”
“What?” I gasp. “Cam, it needs to be, like, actual things we can do.”
She shakes her head like we’re not understanding her. “I know, I know. But I mean, a unicorn can mean different stuff. It could be like a mentor or a really unique thing or someone special or, I don’t know. It just sounds so cool.” She looks at us, waiting for a response. “Think about it.”
Ari and I make eyes at each other.
“Pencil it in,” Ari instructs. “The friends are allowed to add a maximum of five things; we already have the other eight. Just so you know. Setting up some ground rules.”
Cami rolls her eyes and turns to me. “Since when has she become so serious?”
“Since she turned thirteen,” I explain. “She’s like this new, ultra-introspective teenager now. Chill Girl Ari is gone for good.”
“No way. Stop.” Ari throws a piece of popcorn at my head.
“Hey! You’re going to need to clean that up,” I tell her. “Remember what my mom said?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. I always clean up.”
Soon, June, M.W., Marie, and Amirah come traipsing in.
“The door was open,” M.W. tells us. “We brought cake pops.”
“Ooh.” Ari sits up and peers into the box. “So fab, thank you.”
After everyone changes into bathing suits and cover-ups, we all gather in the den. I sit up straight on the couch and tuck my feet under my legs. “So let’s get this party started. Thank you all for coming. As you know, Ari and I are embarking on our third list and we’re so grateful you’re here. It’s interesting to see how our lists have evolved. We started as wee ones about to enter sixth grade and here we are, in the middle of seventh grade. We’re old now.”
Everyone cracks up.
“Okay, get to the point, Kay.” Ari nudges me with her toe and I pretend to fall over.
“That’s my Ari, always guiding me. My north star. My comforting and trusty BFF, always making sure I’m on the right path.”
“Stop!” Ari whines. “Come on, for real. I want to eat more doughnuts.”
“You can eat while we work,” I tell her. “Okay, but for real. This is gonna be fun. We think you guys should add a total of five list items; we already have eight. For example, fruit-infused water.” I point to the table. “Please enjoy a pitcher of delicious, refreshing cucumber lemon.” I move my hands in that direction like the pitcher is an intricate display. “Since Cami arrived first, she already came up with something on her own.” I look over at her. “Cameron Josie, take it away.”
Cami hops up and grabs a remote to use as a microphone. “Okay, so. My idea, and I know it’s brilliant, so please hold applause . . .” She pauses, all dramatic-like. “Find a unicorn.”
She bows, totally over the top, and I fall back laughing. Cami is literally the funniest but not because she’s trying to be. She just is. “So, hear me out. I don’t necessarily mean ‘find a unicorn’ like the real thing or even one of those giant pool floats. It could mean like something that brings good luck, or magic, or someone super unique in their lives . . . that’s for Ari and Kaylan to figure out.”
The rest of the group looks at us, I think expecting some kind of dramatic reaction. But we’ve already heard this so we just smile and raise our eyebrows at each other and then Ari says, “Sounds good to me. Kay?”
“Same.” I grab the paper and jot it down. “Anyone else? Any other ideas?”
After a big gulp of cucumber-lemon water, M.W. raises her hand high in the air. “Ooooh, oooh. I have such a good one!”
Ari giggles. “Yes?”
“Okay.” M.W. stands up, clasping her hands together high on her chest. “Go to Japan.”
We all eye-bulge, waiting for her to say more.
“I mean, you both love sushi, and hello—a trip to Japan! How amazin
g would that be? That could incorporate the rest of the list items because it would be such an amazing experience.”
“How are we going to afford a trip to Japan, M.W.?” I shriek. “For real. Obv it would be amazing, but I don’t think that’s really in the cards for us.” I look over at Ari, waiting for her to weigh in.
“Yeah, unfortunately my bat mitzvah gifts wouldn’t even cover a plane ticket . . . I don’t think.”
M.W. shakes her head. “Okay, don’t give up yet. Wait for it.” She pauses again, widening her eyes. “Win a trip to Japan!”
We look at each other, debating. I say, “Um, how, though? Explain, please.”
June chimes in, “How about just win an online contest? My aunt enters them allllll the time and she’s won a bunch of things—a barbecue, some skin products, even a slice of pizza pool float. But you never know. You gotta be in it to win it, right?”
“Yeah!” Ari exclaims. “That’s a fab idea, guys! I’m writing it down.”
For a second I can’t tell if she’s excited or faking it, but then I settle on real excitement.
She continues, “Even though I don’t know if you can really control if you win or not. What do you think, Kay?”
“Add it. Some positive thinking will go a long way.” I widen my eyes for emphasis and take another mini doughnut out of the box. “You never know.”
“True,” June replies. “I mean, my aunt really does win a lot of stuff.”
I nod. “Okay, so what else?”
“How about get lives and stop making these dumb lists?” Ryan throws himself onto the recliner, bringing his smelly, dirty socks into the middle of the room. “And please pass me one of those doughnuts.”
“Ry, get out of here. Now.” I throw him one. “Leave.”
“Fiiiiiiine,” he groans. “But how many lists are you going to do? Will you do nineteen before twenty, thirty-nine before forty? If you live to be one hundred, you’ll have to do ninety-nine things. . . .”
Everyone laughs even though he’s not funny at all. I really don’t like how so many girls feel a need to laugh at boys just because they’re boys. And this boy isn’t even like a real boy—he’s my brother.
13 and Counting Page 6
