I lick the ice cream off the back of the spoon and head downstairs to the workshop.
A few days off are just what I need to get started on my apology.
Katie
"And what did Mr. Spence say?" Dad asked. I sat on the edge of his bed filling him in on what had happened that day.
"I don't know what he said, but the guys all got suspensions."
"Devan too?"
I nodded.
"Are you nervous about seeing Shane again?"
For some reason, I wasn't. Mr. Spence knew, now. Thanks to Devan, everyone saw Shane for what he was just another kid. An angry kid, but still just a kid. I still couldn't believe Devan did that ... for me.
"Well, it's great to know there are good people out there who do the right thing," Dad said.
"Speaking of the right thing," I pushed myself out of the chair and walked to the door. "I have something I've been meaning to do for a long time."
Dad smiled. He knew where I was going. Will's room.
We weren't going to be in the hospital many more days. Dad's cancer was in remission. This morning the doctors told him he'd be going home in a day or two. But I'd still come and visit Will. If he'd have me.
I knocked on the door to room 242, relieved and kind of nervous to finally be getting this off my chest. No one answered, so I let myself in. Will deserved to know that I was sorry, that I cared about him as a friend and nothing was going to stop me from telling him that now.
The room was empty. The bed, stripped. Oh God!
I ran down the hall to the nurse's station. "Maureen! Will's bed is empty—he's not in his room!" Panic rose in my voice. An empty bed usually meant one thing for a patient who was not ready to be discharged.
"Katie," Maureen waved her hands to calm me down, "Honey, it's okay. He's okay. His dad got a job transfer." "What?"
"They're moving, to his hometown university. I thought you knew."
I shook my head. "When?"
"They left two days ago," she put her hand on my shoulder, "for England."
"Did he leave a note or anything?" I asked. She shook her head. Even after all that had happened, I couldn't believe he'd just left without saying good-bye. But maybe I deserved it, after what I did to him.
I never told him, not while he was awake anyway. I never apologized. I never let him know how much our friendship really meant to me, or that someone cared.
And now he would never know.
Devan
"Well now, it's great to meet you, Devan," she hands me a glass of lemonade. "Katie's told me all about you."
I can't believe I'm here, in Katie's house. I can't believe she told her grandmother about me. What did she tell her? I clear my throat and shift on the couch, holding the glass in both hands so it won't shake.
Her grandmother sits in the chair across from me and smiles.
Whatever Katie told her, I guess it wasn't all bad. I mean, even with my cuts and bruises, her grandmother isn't looking at me like I'm some kind of thug.
"They should be here any minute," she says looking at her watch and smiling. "Her father's coming home from the hospital today. The cancer is in remission."
I didn't even know her dad was sick. "Maybe I should just come some other time. I don't want to be in the way—"
A car door slams.
"Oh, there they are now." She stands up and pats my arm. "Katie will be glad to see you."
Only I'm not so sure. I feel like I might puke.
"I'm hooo-oome!" a man's voice calls as he comes in the living room. He gives Katie's grandmother a hug and then looks at me.
"John, this is Devan. Katie's friend," her grandmother says.
I stand up, spilling lemonade. "Oh, I ... uh—"
"Nice to finally meet you, Devan," he puts out his hand. I wipe mine on my pants and shake hands, hoping he thinks it's wet from lemonade and not clammy from nerves.
Then she walks in the room. She sees me. Her mouth drops open and her cheeks go all red, like she can't believe I'm here. I can't tell how she's feeling, other than shocked. To be honest, I'm a little shocked I'm here myself.
I had practiced what I wanted to say a million times. It was totally cool. But all I get out is, "Hey."
"Why don't you let me take that for you?" her grandmother says. My glass is half empty and I haven't even taken a sip. I'm standing there, still spilling it as I look at Katie.
"Oh, right." I give it to her and shove my hands in my pockets. "Sorry about that."
"Come on now, John," her grandmother says leading him out of the room. "I'll help you unpack."
The door clicks behind them, leaving Katie and me still standing in the middle of the room.
I take a deep breath. "So ... uh ... how are you?"
Katie
How am I?
Good question. The last few days had been such a roller-coaster. I hardly had a moment to think: Shane's attack, Dad's good news, Will leaving, and now Devan here. Devan Mitchell, standing in my living room.
What's he doing here?
"I'm good," I finally said. My heart thudded as I looked up at him. I'd never noticed his eyes were so blue. "How are you? Wow, your face looks so sore."
"Nah," he shrugged, and looked at me for a moment. Neither of us said anything. Then he took a deep breath. "Listen, Katie, I've been meaning to tell you for a long time, and well, it's just that I ..." he stared at his feet. "I know you think I trashed your science fair project, but it wasn't me."
It was good to know that for sure. "Who did it?" I asked, like I didn't already know. "Shane?"
He nodded. "But I still owe you an apology." He looked me in the eyes. "I was there. I saw Shane do it and I should've done something to stop him. I should've saved your farm, Katie. But I didn't and ... I'm sorry."
I didn't know what to say. I could tell it took a lot for him to come here and tell me that. Before I could answer, he picked up a big package wrapped in brown paper and handed it to me.
"Here."
I sat on the couch and opened it.
"I know it's not as good or as big as your real one," he said shifting foot to foot, "but, well, I ... uh ... I made it for you."
It was an ant farm. The wood framing the glass was shaped like a barn and painted bright red. It even had barn doors that opened and closed on either side. And a little sign hung from the top that read, "Brayside Farm." My eyes filled with tears.
He noticed me crying. "You're right," he said reaching to take it back. "It's stupid. I shouldn't have—"
I put my hand on his. "Thank you, Devan," I smiled. "It's perfect."
We set it on the table. He seemed relieved as he sat beside me on the couch. "Will gave me the basic design, but I added all that other stuff myself."
Who?" I asked.
"Will," he said. "I've been visiting him the last few weeks, you know, taking him books and stuff."
"You've been visiting Will?" I couldn't hide the shock in my voice and the shame. I should have been visiting too. "I can't believe he's gone. I never even said good-bye."
"Oh, yeah, here," Devan handed me an envelope. "He asked me to give you this."
The envelope had Katie scrawled across the front in Will's handwriting.
I opened it up. There was a poem inside:
Metamorphosis
What if a queen
remained
an egg?
Afraid of change.
Unwilling to grow.
Cocooned in fear,
how many lives
would she leave untouched?
Sometimes it hurts
to grow,
to rebuild paths,
of follow those
that lead to
new colonies.
But we do it anyway.
"Go to the ant.
Consider its ways
and be wise."
Katie, you are a queen.
Trust your instincts.
For in your heart
you know
each end
is really
just
a new beginning.
Love, Will
Devan
I think she really likes the farm. What a relief! I was so freaked out about giving it to her. Now I'm so glad I did.
I have to email Will as soon as I get home and let him know how much she loved it. He said she would. I kind of wondered if it was something he wanted to give her, but I never asked. Maybe 'cause I didn't really want to know.
"Wait a second," Katie says. "There's something else in here." She pulls out a smaller envelope stuffed inside the big one. "It's got your name on it."
I rip the side of the envelope and pull out a slip of paper.
"What is it?" Katie asks, leaning in as I flip it over.
It's the Mexicasa gift certificate.
"I could, I mean, we could ..." I trip over my words again. "If you want to—"
Katie puts her hand on my arm and smiles. "I'd like that." I smile too.
It hurts my cheek, but I just can't stop.
Caroline Pignat graduated from the University of Ottawa with degrees in English and Education. Her articles, poetry, and fiction are published in numerous magazines and websites.
Though Egghead is fiction, the idea evolved from one pivotal junior high memory. Caroline explains, "I remember these guys teasing a boy in my grade eight class. Why doesn't he stand up for himself? I wondered. Should I step in? Would being defended by a girl make things worse? What if they targeted me as well?"
When she started writing Egghead, Caroline realized she needed to tell the story from two bystanders' perspectives. "People experience and interpret the exact same event in completely different ways. One person's joke is another person's pain. Everyone agrees there's a line that shouldn't be crossed, but we rarely agree on exactly where that line is or who is going to draw it."
Caroline lives in Ottawa, Canada with her husband, Tony, and their children Liam and Marion. Egghead is her first novel.
Visit www.carolinepignat.com for more information and for an Egghead book club guide.
Copyright © 2008 Caroline Pignat
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system I transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of Red Deer Pi or, in the case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a license from Access Copyright (Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency), 1 Yonge Street, Suite 800, Toronto, ON, M5E 1E5, fax 868-1621.
Published in Canada by Red Deer Press
195 Allstate Parkway, Markham ON L3R 4T8
www.reddeerpress.com www.fitzhenry.ca
Edited for the Press by Peter Carver
Copyedited by Mark Giles
Cover design by Jacquie Morris
Text design by Erin Woodward
Red Deer Press acknowledges the support of the Canada Council for the Arts. We also acknowledge the financial support also provided by Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Pignat,Caroline
Egghead / Caroline Pignat.
ISBN 978-0-88995-399-4 (print), 978-1-55244-310-1 (ePub)
1. Bullying—Juvenile fiction. I. Title.
PS8631.I477E34 2007 jC813.6 C2007-905344-0
U.S. Publisher Cataloging-in-Publication Data
(Library of Congress Standards)
Pignat, Caroline.
Egghead / Caroline Pignat.
[256] p. : cm.
ISBN-13: 978-0-88995-399-4 (pbk.), 978-1-55244-310-1 (ePub)
1. Interpersonal relations — Fiction. 2. Schools — Fiction. 3. Conduct of life — Fiction. I. Title.
[Fic] dc22 PZ7.P54638Eg 2008
Egghead Page 9
