TTYL #5

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TTYL #5 Page 6

by Melissa J Morgan


  Alex sat down on the grass and stretched out her legs. Franny, who’d been on her team, sat down next to her. “That was fun, huh?” Franny said casually.

  “Yeah,” Alex said. “It was cool.”

  “Did you play at your old school?” Franny gently pulled a few blades of grass from the field.

  “Yup,” Alex replied. She looked over at Amanda, who looked sort of sad as the coach talked to her. Coach Gregorson patted Amanda on the shoulder, and then they both stood up. Amanda walked slowly toward the school building.

  “All right, Alex?” Coach Gregorson called. “Come on over.”

  Suddenly, the butterflies returned to Alex’s tummy. She slowly stood up and walked over to Coach Gregorson, Henry, and Lisa.

  “Sit down, Alex,” the coach said kindly. Alex sat down and crossed her legs, and Coach Gregorson followed suit.

  “Henry, why don’t you start?” Coach Gregorson asked.

  “Okay. Alex, you obviously have played soccer before,” Henry said, looking at his clipboard. “You’ve got good skills with the ball, and you’re fast. That’s really great.”

  “That is really great,” Lisa put in. “We are a little worried that you aren’t as skilled as some of the other players when it comes to strategy.”

  “I can learn that stuff!” Alex exclaimed. “I am a really fast—”

  Coach Gregorson cut her off. “We know you can, Alex. You’re on the team.”

  Relief flooded into Alex’s body. “I am?” she asked tentatively.

  “You are,” Coach assured her. “But, to begin with, you might not get to play as much as some of the older girls. That isn’t a bad thing. It just means that you need to pay attention and learn about game strategy. That’s your goal for the year: Learn about strategy.”

  “I don’t get to play?” Alex said softly.

  “To begin with, you’ll just watch. Then, when we feel like your performance in practice shows that you’re learning, you’ll play a little. It’ll be hard work, Alex, but I know you can do it,” Coach said, reaching over and patting her on the shoulder. “After all, all of our star players have to start somewhere. Any questions?”

  Alex felt tears welling up. “No,” she said quickly. “See you at practice tomorrow.” She got up and walked to the school as fast as she could. She didn’t bother to change out of her practice clothes; she just threw on her regular sneakers and put her school clothes into her bag. She couldn’t believe how disappointed she was! She’d made the team, after all. But she wanted to play.

  Alex walked home quickly, and called to her mom, who was in the kitchen making dinner. “I made the team,” she yelled.

  Her mom came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Honey, that’s great!” she said. “I’m so proud of you.” She reached toward Alex for a hug, but Alex drew away.

  “They said I wouldn’t get to play, Mom,” she said sadly.

  “What?” her mom said, pulling away.

  “They said I have to learn about strategy, and so my goal for the season is to learn about strategy, and if I do, I’ll get to play a little.”

  “Oh, honey,” her mom said, walking to Alex and wrapping her arms around her. “Don’t worry, you’ll show them how good you are, and you’ll play before you know it.”

  “I know, Mom,” Alex said. And she did know. That didn’t stop her from feeling disappointed, though. She was used to being a star—it was going to be hard to start at the bottom.

  “Dinner’s almost ready, so why don’t you go upstairs and change and wash up?”

  “I’m not really hungry right now, actually. Is it okay if I eat later?”

  With a concerned look on her face, Alex’s mom nodded. “Sure, honey. I’ll save a plate for you. Is your blood sugar okay?”

  Alex sighed. She had to eat regular meals because of her diabetes, even when she wasn’t hungry sometimes. “I feel fine. But I can check it. And I’ll eat in a couple of hours or something.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. Come find me if you want to talk.”

  Alex picked up her bag and ran up the stairs to her room. She flopped down on the bed. Too exhausted to think about anything, she just fell asleep.

  chapter FIVE

  grace> MONDAY

  “Pass the pepper, please, honey,” Grace’s mom said. Grace’s father handed the wooden pepper mill to Grace, who placed it into her mom’s hand. Dinner was chicken, peas, and rice: Grace’s favorite combo.

  “How was school today, Grace?” her father asked between bites of his chicken.

  “Um, well, I learned about ecosystems in science,” Grace replied. “About how all life relies on other life and stuff, and food chains.”

  “That’s interesting!” Grace’s mother said.

  “How is your English class going?” Grace’s dad asked abruptly.

  Grace took a big forkful of peas and chewed and swallowed before answering. “It’s . . . it’s okay,” she replied slowly. “I’ve been working really hard, and I’ve been thinking about asking my camp friends if they want to do the book club again.”

  “What are you reading?” her dad asked.

  “We’re still reading Hatchet,” Grace said. They were almost done—she only had one more chapter to read. “And then next we’re reading The Pinballs,” Grace said. “That’s the one I’m going to ask my friends at camp to read with me.” She took another bite of rice. “I just want to read it at the same time as my friends.”

  “Aren’t your school friends reading it, too?” her dad asked. “I think the book club is a good idea, but don’t you also have friends at school who’ll be reading it in the same class?”

  Grace thought about her drama club friends, and how they were reading more advanced stuff. “No,” she said. “Most of my friends are reading Animal Farm. They’re in different classes.”

  “Then I think your book club idea is great,” Grace’s mom said. She shot a look at Grace’s father, who was opening his mouth to say something. “Don’t you, honey?”

  “Yes,” Grace’s dad said. He looked at Grace’s mom. “At any rate, your mother and I wanted to talk to you about something,” he went on.

  Grace’s mom put down her fork and nodded. “We met with some people at your school today,” she said gently. “Principal Snyder, the guidance counselor, and Mrs. Burr.”

  “You talked to my teacher about me?” Grace said, mortified. Did any of the teachers mention drama club?

  “It was a good meeting, Grace,” her father said, and Grace let out a sigh of relief. “They all said you’re a hard worker, and that’s great.”

  “Can they move me to a better class?” Grace asked.

  “No, honey, they can’t. They think, and your dad and I agree, that you need a little more work on your reading before you can get bumped up a level. But that’s okay! You’re in a brand-new school, and you’re already working hard.” Grace’s mom looked proud of her.

  “They told us that you’ve been working hard, and speaking up more in class, which is great,” Grace’s dad continued. “We’ve also noticed that you’ve been making an effort. We’re very proud of you for staying late at the library.”

  “Uh . . . right,” Grace said. She felt a stab of guilt go through her. “The library.” She’d forgotten that she told her parents that’s where she was when she was really at drama club meetings. She’d even gone so far as to check out a stack of books that she left on her bedroom floor.

  “Working hard like that really proves that you’re growing up, and that you’re really trying,” Grace’s dad went on. “And we’ve decided that if you can hold onto a B average until the end of the semester, we’ll consider letting you join the drama club.”

  Grace looked up from her plate. “You will?” she said disbelievingly. “But you said that I wouldn’t be able to until next year!”

  Grace’s parents exchanged a look. “I know. But we’ve talked about it quite a bit, and we were encouraged by your teachers today. They think you deser
ve a big reward if you can hold on to a B that long, and we agree.”

  Guilt crept up into Grace’s tummy, and she put down her fork. “Well, that’s really great, you guys, thanks,” she said. “I’m full. Can I be excused?”

  Grace’s mom gave her a worried look. “Are you feeling okay?” she said. “Come here, let me feel your forehead.”

  “I’m fine, Mom, I’m just full,” Grace said, pushing herself away from the table. She stood up, carried her plate to the trash, and dumped the leftover chicken and rice into the garbage. After sliding her plate into the dishwasher, she said, “Good dinner, Mom,” and went upstairs to her room.

  Lying on her bed, Grace read a few pages of Hatchet, but then sighed and placed the book down on her pillow. She got up slowly and crossed the room to her desk, turning on the computer as she sat down at her desk chair.

  She logged on to Instant Messenger, and instantly received a message from Natalie.

  : hey, grace!

  : Hey, Nat

  : what’s up?

  : Not much, u?

  : oh, boy problems. how’s school & drama club??

  : It’s really fun . . . I have a bunch of new friends and Em and I still talk all the time

  : i knew you would make friends no prob

  : The bad thing is, I still have to lie to my parents

  : oh no, grace!

  : Yeah. They said if I have a B average in English I can join second semester . . .

  : you can do it!

  : Have you read The Pinballs?

  : yes!!! that’s one of my favorites

  : Would you want to read it again?

  : definitely! are you reading it?

  : We start reading it next week

  : cool!

  : Do you think maybe you’d read it with me, at the same time?

  : totally

  : Really?

  : definitely. let’s have a book club! i’ll post about it on the lakeview blog tonight! you start it on monday?

  : Yes.

  : awesome. so we’ll start reading it monday!

  : Thanks, Nat

  : no prob, grace. now, can you help me?

  : With what?

  : my boy probs . . . .

  : Definitely . . . what’s going on?

  : oh man. where do I start?

  Natalie and Grace chatted for an hour, and afterward, Grace crawled into her bed. She picked up Hatchet and started reading. The ending was the best part! Before Grace knew it, she was closing the book with a satisfying smack. She looked at the digital clock next to her bed. It was almost 10 PM, so Grace changed into her pajamas. Before getting into bed, she checked the Lakeview blog.

  Posted by: Natalie

  Subject: book club!

  hey, everybody. grace and i were talking tonight and we thought it would be fun to start our book club again! our first book will be the pinballs and we’ll start next monday. every night, post a little bit about what you think about the book! let us know if you want to join.

  love,

  nat

  Posted by: Karen

  Re: book club!

  I am in.

  Your friend, Karen

  Posted by: Alyssa

  Re: book club!

  Me too!

  xx A

  Posted by: Sarah

  Re: book club!

  I LOVE that book. I’m in! Sarah

  Posted by: Marissa

  Re: book club!

  Great idea, Nat and Grace! I loved that book. I’ll totally read it again.

  Love, Mars

  It seemed as though everyone was signed up, except Chelsea, but Grace just assumed she wasn’t interested. That would be typical for the sometimes-snobby blonde. For the first time, Grace was excited to go to English class the next day. Not only had she finished Hatchet, but she was really excited to read The Pinballs . . . with a little help from her friends.

  Jenna> TUESDAY

  At the breakfast table Tuesday morning, while she ate cereal with her mom and Adam, Jenna decided to put her plan into action. She looked at her mom and Adam, and then coughed loudly.

  Her mom lowered the morning paper and shot her a worried glance. “That doesn’t sound good, honey,” she said. “Are you coming down with something?”

  Jenna took a spoonful of cereal and chewed slowly before answering. “I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “I mean, a couple of my friends have been sick . . .”

  “Who?” Adam butted in. “I don’t remember anyone being sick.”

  “Just people at school,” Jenna replied through gritted teeth, throwing him a look. “Like . . . Helen.”

  “Who’s Helen?” Adam asked, clearly dubious.

  “She’s in my math class, Adam,” Jenna said, her teeth getting even tighter. “She sits next to me in my math class.” She knew that would bother her brother, who hadn’t passed the test to take the advanced class, Algebra 1, and was stuck in the regular sixth-grade math class.

  She was right. Adam dropped his gaze and picked up his glass of juice. “Oh,” he said. “I don’t know her.”

  Jenna’s mom looked over her newspaper. “What’s wrong with Helen?” she asked, folding the paper and setting it down on the empty chair next to her.

  “I don’t know, she was out yesterday,” Jenna lied, feeling a guilty blush creep across her face. Helen didn’t really exist at all—it was just the first name that came to her mind. “And so was Tanya, who you also don’t know, Adam,” she added, deepening the lie. “On Friday,” she continued, “they were at school but they were coughing a lot.”

  “Did they go to Nicole’s party?” Adam asked in his best innocent voice. He put down his spoon and stared right at Jenna.

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know, Adam. I wasn’t there,” she said pointedly. Before anyone could ask her any more questions, she noisily took a big bite of cereal and chomped on it loudly for way longer than she needed to. As soon as she swallowed, she immediately shoved another spoonful into her mouth.

  But her mom didn’t get the hint. “I didn’t know Nicole had a party, Jen!” she said. “When was it?”

  Jenna’s mouth was full, so she couldn’t respond, but Adam’s spoon still rested on the table. He crossed his arms. “It was last Saturday,” he said. “Everybody at school was talking about it, about how fun it was and stuff.”

  “That’s too bad you had to miss it, sweetheart,” Jenna’s mom said consolingly.

  Jenna swallowed. “Yeah, whatever, it’s fine,” she said. “Adam, let’s get going, we’re going to be late.” She shoved her bowl away from her, and stood up quickly.

  “Do you need a ride?” her mom asked. “Steph and Matt left already, but I can drive you if you need me to.”

  “That’s okay, Mom,” Jenna said. She started walking toward the door, but stopped and thought for a moment. “Actually . . . maybe I do want to get a ride. I don’t know if being out in the cold will be good for me.” She coughed again, more gently this time.

  She looked over at Adam, who was slowly shaking his head at her. He could always tell when she had something up her sleeve. Narrowing her eyes, Jenna added, “I hope Helen is back in math today . . . we were going to work together on a project.”

  Their mom stood up from the table and began clearing away the breakfast dishes. Jenna walked through the living room and into the entrance hall, where her shoes and backpack were. She knelt down to slip on her sneakers and tied the laces into double knots. As she was straightening up and sliding her backpack onto her shoulders, Adam walked into the hallway.

  “Are you faking?” he accused her.

  “I’m not!” Jenna replied defensively. She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “
I am feeling sick.”

  “That was the worst cough I’ve ever heard in my life,” Adam said. He bent down to put on his sneakers. “If this is just another prank—if you’re trying to get out of going to Dad’s so you can go to Nicole’s party—well, I don’t think it’s gonna fly. Mom wasn’t born yesterday.”

  “I’m not!” Jenna exclaimed angrily. “I am feeling sick!”

  The jingle of their mom’s car keys floated in from the living room. Jenna lowered her voice. “Anyway, just stay out of it, Adam,” she said. “I don’t feel well and you’re making me feel worse.”

  Adam stood up and put on his backpack. “You’ll feel even worse if you have to stay home all weekend and Mom doesn’t let you go out on Saturday because you’re sick,” he pointed out. “Just wait.”

  “Wait for what?” their mom said, entering the room. She shrugged her black trench coat on. “Ready?”

  “Nothing, Mom,” Jenna said. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

  “Me too,” Adam said. “Let’s go.”

  Their mom walked out the front door, and Adam and Jenna followed. Jenna let the door slam softly as she closed it. She walked down the driveway and got into the backseat of her mom’s SUV.

  Jenna didn’t talk to her brother on the ride to school, and when their mom pulled up in front of the school building, she jumped out of the car, yelling a quick good-bye and adding a small cough for good measure. Without waiting for Adam, she ran into the building.

  She had a few minutes before she had to be in homeroom, so Jenna walked to the library. The night before, she’d gotten excited about Natalie’s posting on the blog. She was so happy to be part of the book club. She browsed through the library’s stacks, and finally found The Pinballs and checked it out at the desk. “Great book!” the librarian, a tall, slender woman with curly black hair, said.

 

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