Don't Kiss Him Good-Bye

by Sandra Byrd

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked her. “I mean, that’s what big sisters are for, you know. To help.” Wish I had a big sister, I thought. I was on my own. “Want to talk about the dog show? I could take some new pictures of Growl—Giggle.”

  She shook her head, went to the bathroom, got a tissue, and blew her nose. I noticed she had a couple of tiny, veiny scratches on the back of her right hand. She saw me looking at them and put her hand into her pocket.

  “Want to play a game, then?” I asked. “Monopoly? Scrabble?”

  She looked up. “Scrabble would be okay.”

  “Good!” I reached into the armoire below the telly—it was still on and blaring Top Gear—and pulled out our Scrabble board. “You can even go first,” I said.

  I dumped all our tiles into a bucket—we had combined three games’ worth so we’d have lots of letters—and then we each chose our stack and spread them across our racks. Louanne spelled her first word across the red star in the middle. W-O-R-R-Y.

  “Good job!” I said. “Lots of points there.”

  She smiled and drew five replacement tiles while I puzzled out my word. W-R-O-N-G, I spelled down from her W.

  F-E-A-R was her next play, using one of the Rs in WORRY.

  Y-O-K-E-D, I put down. A sense of dread began to steal across the room as twilight fell.

  Louanne played D-I-E- and then looked at me. “Are you having fun, Savvy?”

  “Sure . . .” I looked her in the eye, a little shocked at her last word. “Well, not really.”

  “Me neither,” she said, upending the board. “Let’s play another time, okay?”

  Just then my phone beeped. I had a text message. From Rhys. “Sure,” I answered my sister before looking at the text. “Ice cream in half an hour?”

  Louanne nodded, and I left, taking my phone with me. The room seemed brighter, and my head was a little light. Rhys hadn’t contacted me for a long time. What could he want?

  Do you have time to talk? I could call you.

  My fingertips tingled as they hung over the dial pad for a minute before I texted back.

  Okay.

  I headed upstairs and barely made it into my room before the phone rang.

  Chapter 31

  “Hi,” I said, shutting my door.

  “So I was just checking in,” he said.

  Rhys never just checked in.

  “I’m fine.”

  I was trying to think of small talk to lighten things up. Talking on the phone seemed way more serious than texting. “Just getting ready to work on science. We’re culturing bacteria.”

  He laughed, but his laugh had a sharp edge. “So appropriate. Reminds me of a lot of people at this school. Bacteria is the only culture they have.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  His voice softened. “How was your April Fools thing the other night? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”

  I noticed he didn’t say why, and I didn’t ask. “It was good,” I said. “I think we raised a lot of money for good organizations.”

  “Was anyone a fool?” His voice had a hint of sarcasm to it. I wasn’t sure if he was referring to my faith, but in case he was, I thought I’d address it right away.

  “Not that I know of,” I said. “But I don’t mind being a fool for Christ.”

  “I like that about you, Savvy. You’re different—you’re strong. Which is why I’m calling you. I was wondering, well . . . do you have a date for the May Day Ball yet? And if not, would you consider going with me?”

  I sat there waiting for a few seconds before finally speaking up. “Wow, Rhys, I’m really surprised. Surprised you don’t already have a date . . . and surprised you’d ask me.”

  “I could have asked other people, Savvy—I still could. But you’re my first choice. I like you . . . a lot. Think about it for a few days. And then let me know, because it’s getting pretty close and I can’t wait forever, all right?”

  “Right,” I agreed. That seemed fair. I wondered who else he could ask. Who else wasn’t going? It didn’t really matter. What mattered was . . . did I want to go with him?

  “I’d best get going. Got loads of homework to do,” he said, laughing lightly. “I’m sure you do too.”

  “Okay. Talk to you soon,” I said.

  “I’m hoping so.” Then he clicked off.

  I just sat there on my floor. Did I want to go with him? There was nothing wrong with going as friends, right? Yeah, there might have been a little bit of a draw toward more—one I didn’t necessarily want but couldn’t get rid of. But I was pretty confident I could keep things at “just friends.” I was sure he’d totally understand that, and he probably only thought of me as a friend too, which is what would make it fine.

  But were we actually friends?

  Maybe not exactly . . . but I felt like we probably could be. Besides, I knew he wasn’t really my type, but there was a little thrill when I was with him because I never knew what he was going to do or say next. He was nice looking. A little dangerous, maybe. And other girls envied me.

  I shook my head to clear my thoughts and texted Penny. Maybe she’d have an idea of what to do.

  Hey, Penny. What’s up?

  A few minutes later my phone vibrated.

  Can’t text now, with Mum. Check this out, though!

  A minute later I got a picture message of the beautiful teal dress with silver strappy shoes and a pair of dewdrop earrings.

  So, so pretty. I was kind of happy she was too busy to answer.

  I didn’t text Supriya.

  Chapter 32

  I headed downstairs to eat some ice cream with Louanne only to find that she’d already gone to bed. I scooped a bowl of chocolate brownie delight for myself and took it back to my room. Might as well look at some of the Asking for Trouble letters, I thought. And tidy up a few things to give to Natalie tomorrow.

  I’d put together a big packet of information on Be@titude, profiling one of the moms they’d helped. I also looked up the history of May Day, staying away from the Communist implications, as I’d been warned to stay away from politics. I also ignored all the pagan junk. Instead, I focused on the celebration of spring—and new life—after a long, wet winter. And the Maydayrun motorbike race that took place every year. Big bikes, fabbo helmets, loud engines, and speed. I wouldn’t mind seeing it someday.

  I logged into my e-mail system. Wow! There were about ten letters to choose from this week. I quickly scanned the subject lines and then the senders’ addresses. I always wondered if Ashley or Penny or even Hazelle would ever send a letter.

  What? I enlarged my screen to 125 percent. I couldn’t believe my eyes. But there it was.

  A letter from my sister—Louanne! I clicked it open.

  Dear Asking for Trouble,

  I have a big problem and I don’t know what to do. It’s not dangerus, but it could be a bigger problem really soon. My family is nice, but if I tell anyone, they’ll make me do something I really can’t do and then I would have to disobey and get in even more trouble. What should I do?

  Was she in trouble? Should I confront her? She said it wasn’t dangerous, but still . . .

  I stayed up late and prayed about it, and I looked up Scripture to write my answer. Then I mailed in my response to Jack. Would he be surprised to see it a day early?

  I’ll answer her question in this week’s paper. If I don’t see an improvement in a week, or ten days at the most, I’ll confront her and tell Mom and Dad.

  Growl scratched at my door, which was odd. Normally he was glued to Louanne, even while she was sleeping.

  Chapter 33

  I got to school early the next day. Good thing, too, because if Penny was the good witch Glinda, then Natalie was the Wicked Witch of the West, and she was waiting for me in the WA Times office.

  “I’m not sure if this is all you could come up with, Savannah,” she said, throwing a sheaf of papers at me, “but mostly it’s rubbish. You just focused your attention on your frien
ds as couples, your pet project clothing store, and some happy-go-lucky nonfacts about May Day. Care to try again?”

  I suddenly had a new understanding of the wounds caused by a paper cut.

  Everyone in the office kept their heads down—listening, I knew, but not intervening. “No, actually, I don’t,” I said. “I’ve done my best, and if this won’t work, I’m sorry, but I won’t be a help to you on this article.” I was sorry Melissa would be let down. Neither she nor Jack was there that morning.

  “Fine, then,” Natalie said. “Since you clearly can’t follow directions, I’ll take the snaps at the ball myself.”

  I nodded but said nothing so as not to betray the sorrow caught in my throat. Just peachy. Why did she have to come back? I headed toward the back and asked Rob if I could use his computer for a minute. “Sure, Savvy,” he said. “Sorry about Little Miss Sunshine. You could always talk to the adviser about her.”

  I shook my head. I had my secret assignment. I had friends on staff. I’d make my own way in my own time.

  “I’m off to class, then,” he said. “Log off when you’re done, all right?”

  “Okay.” I logged on to my e-mail to see that Jack had already confirmed receipt of my column and had forwarded a few new messages to me. I quickly looked through them to see if there was anything new from Louanne. Mostly just the usual suspects—boy trouble, friend trouble, parent trouble. One caught my eye. The subject line simply said, I Know.

  I read it quickly, one eye on the clock, knowing that Mr. Thompson was going to come down hard on me if I was late again.

  Hullo. I have a few of your papers—rough drafts of questions and answers that let me know your real identity as the author of the Asking for Trouble column. I’ve kept it a secret. Do you want your papers back, or should I destroy them?

  Someone knew my secret! But who? And how?

  I logged off and then raced to class, sliding into my seat just as the bell stopped ringing. I didn’t offer Brian gum, and I didn’t look at Hazelle to see if she had any sympathy at all for me after my interaction with Natalie that morning. I pretended to jot down what Mr. Thompson was saying, but my entire brain was focused on one question: Who knows?

  Could it be Hazelle? or Rob or Rodney or Melissa? Someone at the paper was the most likely choice because they could have stumbled upon something in the newspaper office. But no one had given the tiniest hint.

  Who else? Louanne . . . from last night’s e-mail? Possibly. But the e-mail voice was pretty mature. And Louanne would have said, hi or hello and not hullo like most Brits.

  Where had I kept those papers? In my notebook. And where had I taken my notebook? Everywhere.

  I worried about it all day. On my way out of school I bumped into Rhys, who happened to be standing near the exit I normally took on my way home.

  “Hey, Savannah.” He looked at my face. “You okay?”

  I took a deep breath. “I guess so.”

  “Can I help?” He really did seem concerned. “Do I need to step in and break some skulls for you?”

  I smiled but wasn’t sure if he really meant it or not. “I assume you don’t beat up girls,” I said back. Since he’d appeared really concerned, and since one of the deals had gone down in a public newsroom, I decided to just say, “Well, I had a major disagreement with someone on the newspaper staff today. I was supposed to be a partner and the photographer for the May Day Ball article. But Natalie took me off—and told me off—in front of everyone.”

  He rested his arm on my shoulder. I could smell the rosemary mint of his shampoo. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was hard to breathe with him this close. “I’m sorry. But maybe it’ll all work out for the best. Even if she was mean. It might make it possible for you to enjoy the ball yourself.”

  I nodded. I was aware that I hadn’t answered him and that I needed to so he could ask someone else if he wanted to. “I’ve got to chat with my mother tonight,” I said. “And then I’ll let you know after school tomorrow. Okay?”

  He stood back and smiled. “Take my picture to show your mum.”

  My first thought was, Wow, a little overconfident? But then he made a crazy face and it made me laugh. I took a pic with my phone and headed home to talk with my mom.

  I had noticed that he’d kept a complete poker face when I’d mentioned the paper. But Rhys would. I got the feeling he never let anyone know what he was truly feeling.

  Chapter 34

  “So why aren’t you saying anything?” I asked my mom as she stared at the picture of Rhys.

  “I’m looking,” Mom answered.

  “Is it the ponytail? Because it’s really short and neat. All those guys in the Bible wore long hair. And so did the guys in the American Revolution.”

  My mother looked up and rolled her eyes at me. “And so did your father for a time, and I obviously don’t think he’s a bad guy.”

  “He did?” I couldn’t believe it. “Dad?”

  She nodded. “Dad.”

  “And look at him. Could he be nicer? cleaner? healthier? The man drinks tomato juice for breakfast every day.”

  Mom patted the couch beside her. “Sav, it’s not the ponytail. It’s just that every time you talk about this boy, you’re not yourself. You’re either really up or really down or really confused. You don’t know what he thinks or what he believes or what you have in common.”

  “We’re friends,” I insisted. “So we’d only be going as friends.”

  “Friends talk about issues; they help each other; they feel comfortable with each other. I don’t know your heart, but from my point of view, that doesn’t seem to be happening here. And does he know you’re just friends?”

  I tapped my foot for a minute. Then I took off my shoes and tossed them into the corner, scaring Growl. That hadn’t even been my intention—this time. That dog is as dumb as dirt, I thought. Then I looked up. Why had I thought that?

  “I am sure he does.”

  My mother looked doubtful.

  “I’ll tell him in very straight words,” I promised. “Can I go?”

  “This has to be your decision, Savvy,” she said. “But I want you to think hard about it. When you go out with someone, dress up, or even just become friends with him, you are giving away a precious piece of yourself. Make sure that each person you give a piece of Savvy to deserves it.”

  I leaned into her arm. “I will, Mom.”

  She reached her arm around me and stroked my hair. “Firsts are especially important, things you’ll always remember. First dances, first formal dresses . . . first kisses . . .”

  “I am not going to kiss Rhys,” I said.

  She stood up. “But he may try to kiss you.” She ruffled my hair and then padded into the kitchen to do the dishes while I went upstairs to text Penny. I wanted to tell her but didn’t actually want to talk with her.

  I’ve decided to go to the May Day Ball with Rhys.

  Her answer came right back.

  Are you sure, Sav?

  Yes. And we’re just friends. I’ll tell him that.

  As long as you’re sure that’s what you want. . . . So can my mum invite your mum to the Day After Garden and Tea Party?

  I texted back yes immediately. I didn’t tell her, of course, but that was one of my main reasons for wanting to go. There were lots of good reasons to go, of course. To have fun with everyone. To enjoy dancing. To dress up in a formal! And to hang out with Rhys for the night too.

  Only one little thing I wasn’t looking forward to. Seeing Tommy and Chloe in her I’m-sure-it’s-not-awkward dress.

  On my way downstairs I stopped by Louanne’s room. She was lying on her bed doing her homework. She wasn’t exactly beaming with joy, but she looked a little more chipper than she had for a few days.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Mmm-hmm,” she replied.

  “I’ll bring a paper home for you on Thursday.”

  At that, she smiled. “Thanks, Savvy.”

  I hoped she
’d thank me later when she saw my advice.

  Then I headed down the creaking steps for a snack and to share the good news with my mother, who was getting caught up on her reading while Dad worked late.

  “I have good news,” I said.

  She set her book down on the sofa beside her. “Do tell!” she teased.

  “Well, Penny’s mother belongs to this really swish garden club,” I said. “Lots of fancy people, but nice ones too, like Penny’s mum. Anyway, they have a garden party and tea the day after the May Day Ball. The mums come and discuss gardening and the girls all show up in their fancy—I mean formal—dresses and serve them. And you’re going to be invited.”

  “Me?” Mom said. “Really?”

  “Really,” I said. “And here’s the best part. One of the members can suggest you for membership, and if you’re voted in, you can join their club. You can tour the castle and manor gardens with them and everything.”

  “Oh, that would be fantastic!” Mom snapped her book shut and leaped off the sofa. Next thing I knew, she was browsing and mmm-hmming titles on the bookshelf next to the telly.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for my garden books. I need to brush up on my Latin plant names!” She pulled a volume off the shelf and cracked it open. When I left her she was happily muttering, “Dellis hortensis, Hyacinthus elatus.”

  I grinned. It made me happy to make her elated, er, elatus.

  Chapter 35

  On Wednesday Penny had a dentist appointment at lunch and I felt like sitting by myself in the courtyard. It was so, so beautiful out. The sun gleamed down from on high, and I felt its rays spread across my skin like Icy Hot all the way to my bones. I tilted my head toward the sun, hoping to lure those rays to my face.