TTYL #5

by Melissa J Morgan

  i’d better go—my mom just got home. i’m going to convince her to order in thai food.

  luv, nat

  chapter EIGHT

  Alex> WEDNESDAY

  Alex had never been so pumped in her life. It was the final moments of their first soccer game, and the Rockets were up by four points, meaning they’d definitely beat the Chargers. She couldn’t believe it, but she was so into the game that it almost didn’t matter that she wasn’t actually playing. Almost.

  The minute the thought had popped into her brain, everything changed.

  “Okay, Alex, you’re going in for Carla,” the coach said.

  At first, Alex thought she’d heard wrong. “Seriously?” she asked excitedly. Her stomach did back flips. She was nervous, but she couldn’t wait to get out on the field. After looking up into the stands and giving her mom a thumbs-up, she checked to make sure that her hair was tightly in place and that her shoelaces were tied. The coach blew her whistle to signal a time-out. Coach Gregorson motioned for Carla to come off the field, and Carla ran off.

  She and Alex high-fived as Alex ran onto the field. Once the coach blew her whistle again, the game was back on. Alex was afraid her knees were going to buckle beneath her, but as her feet found the ball, her confidence returned. Soccer was as natural to Alex as breathing. Suddenly, Alex found herself kicking the ball down the field, weaving through her opponents until she was directly in front of the goal, unguarded. Yes! she thought. There was no doubt in her mind: She was going to make this goal.

  Everyone in the stands was cheering and whistling, but Alex blocked out all the noise as she made for the goal. She raised her right foot to kick the ball into the goal, watching only the opposing team’s goalie and waiting for the perfect moment. She lowered her foot toward the ball, readied herself, and . . .

  Suddenly found herself on her back, with her ankle twisted in excruciating, red-hot pain. For a minute, she couldn’t figure out what had happened, and then Alex realized she’d been tripped. She looked up and saw Cindy standing there, a terrified look on her face. “Oh, man,” Cindy said. “Oh no. Are you okay?” The cheering in the stands turned to worried silence, and the referee blew his whistle, stopping the game.

  Alex couldn’t believe what had just happened. “Did you trip me?” she whispered incredulously.

  “No!” Cindy said, backing away. “I didn’t mean to, I swear, I swear Alex, I’d never do that.”

  “What happened?” Coach Gregorson asked, standing above Alex. She bent down. “Are you all right, Alex?” she asked softly.

  “I’m okay. Cindy—I don’t know what happened, but I was about to kick the ball and then I was on the ground,” Alex replied. Her chin trembled. “My leg really, really hurts.”

  The coach looked to the sidelines, motioning for the school nurse to come to the field. As the nurse made her way to the field, Coach asked, “Cindy, what happened?”

  “I was just coming up behind her to help,” Cindy said plaintively. “She slowed down and I didn’t realize it, and all of a sudden I was right behind her, and as she lowered her foot I just—”

  “Okay,” Coach said. “I’m sure it was an accident. Regardless, it looks to me like Alex has sprained her ankle. Alex, is your mom here?”

  Alex sat up a bit and looked toward the bleachers, shading her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “The lady with the brown hair by the bottom of the bleachers.” She looked up to see that her mother was already on her way down, a nervous expression on her face.

  Nurse Clain, breathless and red-faced from hurrying onto the field, arrived and kneeled down beside Alex. She picked up Alex’s foot, asking, “Does this hurt?”

  Alex nodded her head. “It doesn’t feel broken. I broke my ankle once and it wasn’t like this.”

  “I think it’s just a sprain,” the nurse said comfortingly. “If it was a break, you’d be in agonizing pain right now.”

  Alex’s mom ran up then and crouched down. “Honey, are you okay?” she asked, her eyebrows knit together in a worried frown.

  “My leg hurts,” Alex replied. She bit her lip as tears started to sting her eyes. “It hurts a lot,” she went on, the tears that had been threatening to fall finally making their way down her face. “But I can move it, a little.”

  “Good,” Nurse Clain responded. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and leaned over to wipe the tears from Alex’s face. “I’m sure it’s just a sprain, but let’s take you to the emergency room to find out.”

  “I’ll go pull around the car,” Alex’s mom said.

  “Great. We’re going to help you up, Alex,” Coach said. “Put your arms around our shoulders, and try to hop on your other foot.”

  Alex sat up and looked at Cindy. The older girl looked petrified, her face ghost white. She clenched her hands to her mouth as the coach and the nurse reached down to help Alex to her feet.

  As she hopped off the field, the onlookers rose to their feet and clapped for her.

  “Alex,” Coach Gregorson said, as they headed toward the parking lot, “you were great out there.” Alex gingerly got into the passenger seat of her mom’s red station wagon. “I’m really impressed. I think you may be playing more this year than any of us thought you would.”

  “Really?” Alex replied. “Thanks, Coach!”

  Her leg throbbed and her face was still wet and tear-stained, but Alex didn’t care. Even though she got hurt, she had definitely kicked butt on the field that afternoon. She had proven her worth to her coach—and to herself!

  The nurse was right: It was just a sprain, much to Alex’s relief. When she and her mom got home from the hospital, her mom set her up in a comfortable chair in the living room, put in a DVD of Alex’s favorite movie, and handed her the remote. “I’ll make you dinner,” she said, tucking a comfortable, multicolored blanket around Alex. “What do you want? Anything at all.”

  Alex thought for a minute. “Um . . . how about chicken stir-fry?” she said.

  “Okay, honey. Sit tight.”

  Alex started watching the movie, and when dinner was ready, her mom sat down in the living room to watch with her.

  The phone rang, and Alex’s mom went to pick it up. “Hello?” she said. “Al, it’s for you—it’s Bridgette.”

  “Really?” Alex asked. “Uh . . . okay.” She hadn’t even seen Bridgette at school that day, except for in math, where they hadn’t had time to talk. Bridgette took gymnastics after school and therefore couldn’t come to Alex’s game. Her mom handed her the cordless phone and walked back toward the kitchen.

  “Hi, Bridgette,” Alex said tentatively.

  “Hey, Al,” Bridgette replied, a note of concern in her voice. “I heard about what happened during the soccer game! Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Alex said, reaching for the remote to pause the movie. “I just sprained my ankle. It hurts, but it’s okay.”

  “What happened?” Bridgette asked.

  Alex shifted in her chair. “Well, I was about to score a goal and all of a sudden this girl, Cindy, came up behind me and I guess she didn’t realize I was slowing down to kick, and she accidentally tripped me.”

  She heard Bridgette draw her breath in sharply. “Oh, Alex, good thing you’re okay!”

  “I know. It wouldn’t be so bad except that at first I was positive Cindy did it on purpose. The other day she made fun of me for wearing my hair in pigtails, and then when I messed up a pass she laughed at me again. So when it happened today . . .”

  “I’m sure she didn’t do it on purpose. I mean, I know she’s been not so nice to you, but that would be awful,” Bridgette agreed.

  “Yeah, I hope it was just an accident.” Alex sighed. “It’s funny, if that happened last year I wouldn’t even have wondered for a minute if it was on purpose. If I got hurt, and a girl on my team had done it, I would know for sure that she hadn’t done it on purpose. I guess it’s just another thing that stinks about middle school.”

  Bridgette was quiet for a moment. “You
don’t like middle school?” she asked.

  Alex paused before answering. It’s time for me to be honest with Bridgette, she decided. If she’s really my best friend, she’ll understand. “No!” Alex finally replied, emphatically. “I hate it. I don’t know anybody, there’s way more homework, you have to try out for soccer, people are mean . . .” She stopped.

  “But it isn’t only bad, Alex,” Bridgette said gently. “I mean, we have better classes, way more freedom, we can use pens . . .” She and Alex laughed in unison. “And that’s not all,” Bridgette went on. “It’s hard right now because it’s, like, totally different. But it’ll be awesome once we have tons of new friends and stuff.”

  Alex bit her lip. “But you’re the one meeting people,” she said, shifting the phone to her other ear. “Not me. I’m just boring.”

  Bridgette laughed. “Alex, don’t be ridiculous! You’re my best friend! You’ll meet people with me! I’m not going to go to any parties without you, or anything . . . and I’m not leaving you behind. We’re in this together! Besides, it’s not like you don’t have your own thing going on—what about soccer, after all? I mean, other than Cindy, of course.”

  “But I never see you anymore,” Alex said quietly.

  “That’s just because I’ve had a lot of homework, and we don’t have classes together, really,” Bridgette reassured her. “Don’t worry. You’ll always be my best friend, Alex.”

  Alex sighed with relief. “Well, that makes middle school a bit easier, I guess,” she said. “Hey, maybe I’ll meet people since I’ll be limping around school all week!”

  Bridgette laughed. “I’d better go,” she said. “My mom’s calling me for dinner.”

  “Okay,” Alex replied. “See you tomorrow.” After they hung up, she couldn’t believe how much better she felt after talking to Bridgette. Having a best friend definitely made most things easier, at least.

  Natalie> THURSDAY

  In school on Thursday morning, Natalie couldn’t help but notice that conversations seemed to stop the minute she passed by people in the hall, and that when she walked by, most people’s eyes were following her. After an entire morning of weirdness, she finally leaned over to a classmate, Chloe, and said, “Okay, so, why am I suddenly such a celebrity?”

  Chloe laughed. “Are you kidding?” she asked. “It’s you and Kyle. Everyone’s totally obsessed with how you two are a couple.”

  Natalie was taken aback. “What?” she asked incredulously. “I’m not Kyle’s girlfriend. We went skating. That’s it.”

  Chloe shrugged. “Well, that’s not what he’s telling people,” she said. “I heard that you guys went out yesterday, and now you’re his girlfriend.”

  “Well, it’s not true,” Natalie said. She slumped into her chair. “I mean, I like him, but we just went Rollerblading. It’s not like we’re married or anything.”

  Hannah walked into the class and sat down far away from Natalie. Nat turned in her chair to look at her friend, but Hannah pointedly avoided Nat’s gaze and opened up her notebook. She began writing in it, and Natalie turned back around.

  “What’s up with you and Hannah?” Chloe asked. “Aren’t you guys best friends anymore?”

  “I thought we were,” Natalie said. She sighed.

  Everything was wrong! Her best friend was not her friend at all, and a boy she’d hung out with, like, once was suddenly her boyfriend. Things were as complicated as ever, and Nat didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  After class, Natalie rushed out of the room before anyone could ask her questions about her “date” with Kyle. She headed to the locker bay and was intercepted by Kyle himself.

  “Hey, Nat,” he said, walking alongside her to the lockers.

  “Hi, Kyle,” Natalie said, embarrassed.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Good,” Natalie replied, forcing a smile.

  “So . . . what are you doing after school?” Kyle asked. They reached Natalie’s locker, and he reached out to take her books as she twirled the combination lock to open her locker.

  “It’s okay, I can carry them,” she said. “Um . . . I don’t know what I’m doing. My mom told me to come right home.”

  “Oh,” Kyle said, sounding disappointed. “I was thinking we could go to Central Park again.”

  “Well, I don’t have my Rollerblades or anything,” Natalie replied. She put her books into her locker and took out the one she needed for her English class second period.

  “That’s okay,” Kyle said quickly. “We could just walk around. We could even go to Starbucks.”

  “I can’t today,” Natalie said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh. Okay,” he replied. He was obviously disappointed.

  “I’d better get to class,” Natalie said, slamming her locker and rushing off before he could say anything or offer to carry her books for her. As she left, she was aware of him standing there and watching her.

  Natalie felt bad. Kyle was really nice—she especially appreciated that he wanted to take her to Starbucks—but she’d finally talked to Simon last night and they’d had a great conversation. No one made her laugh the way Simon did. If Kyle was looking for a girlfriend, well, then she just wasn’t ready.

  At lunch, Natalie scanned the cafeteria for Hannah, who was sitting alone at a corner table. She hurried across the room and put her lunch bag down onto Hannah’s table. Hannah looked up at her and began to pick up her things, as if to leave, but Natalie sat down and said, “Hannah, please don’t leave. Please let me talk to you.”

  “Don’t you want to sit with your boyfriend?” Hannah asked snidely.

  “He’s not my boyfriend, Han,” Natalie said, frustrated. “And even if he were, you’re my best friend, and I want to work this out.”

  “That’s not what he said,” Hannah replied. “I heard all about it first period.”

  “I know,” Natalie said forcefully. “But it’s not true. I am not his girlfriend, and he is not my boyfriend. Look, this boyfriend stuff is pretty heavy. I really like Kyle, but I can still carry my own books to class, and I can still sit with my best friend at lunch.”

  Hannah softened. “Oh,” she said quietly. “I just assumed . . .”

  “Well, you assumed wrong,” Natalie cut in. “We just went Rollerblading for, like, an hour. He didn’t even want to get a Frappuccino beforehand! It was fun, but I wished the whole time that I was Rollerblading with you, instead.” She smiled at Hannah. “I really miss you, Han,” she went on softly. She opened her lunch bag and took out her sandwich, slowly unwrapping the plastic.

  Hannah sighed. “I miss you too, Nat. I just feel like you’re into things I’m not into right now.”

  “Hannah, that’s ridiculous!” Natalie cried, putting down her sandwich.

  “No, it’s not,” Hannah said. She sipped her soda. “I don’t like boys, and I don’t care about makeup and stuff. Sushi and shopping, sure. But not boys. Not yet.” Hannah looked down at her open bag of chips. “I just feel like you’re growing up way faster than I am, and I don’t want to be your boring, babyish friend.”

  “I’m not growing up faster than you,” Natalie protested. “I happened to meet a couple of boys that I was interested in. It isn’t anything drastic. And besides—I’ve always been into makeup!”

  Hannah opened her bag and drew out an apple, which she polished gently on her T-shirt. “It seems like a really big difference.”

  “Just because our lives might be a little different right now—it doesn’t change anything,” Natalie said. She thought for a moment. “I mean, our lives have always been different. That’s one of the greatest things about our friendship!”

  “I know,” Hannah replied.

  “I mean, I’ve been a little self-absorbed,” Natalie admitted.

  “And I’ve been a little jealous,” Hannah said quietly. “It is pretty stupid, huh?”

  “Absolutely.” Natalie bit into her cheese sandwich and then took a sip of her soda. “But you should know—all of th
is boy stuff? Just makes me need you as my friend more than ever! Seriously, I’m so confused, and you’re the one who keeps me sane.”

  “Barely,” Hannah quipped dryly.

  “Fine, point taken,” Nat conceded. “Do you want to go Rollerblading after school?”

  “I’d love to go Rollerblading,” Hannah said excitedly.

  “On one condition, though,” Natalie said in her best serious voice.

  “What?” Hannah said, frowning.

  “Frappuccinos first,” Nat said, winking.

  To: Alyssa11

  From: NatalieNYC

  Subject: Hannah, boys . . .

  hey, alyssa—i just wanted to write and thank you for your advice about hannah. i talked to her today, and we managed to figure things out. i think she was just feeling, like, with all this boy stuff going on, i didn’t need her anymore. but i pointed out that that’s exactly why i need her now, more than ever! i mean, kyle and i hung out one time, and all of a sudden i’m his girlfriend? no way. especially ’cause of how simon and i have been having these great phone conversations and text messages and stuff. i just started getting into boys—i’m not looking for anything serious. so it’s good to have hannah to help me deal.

  anyway, just wanted to let you know how much your advice helped. hope everything is okay with you. write soon and let me know what’s up!

  luv, nat

  chapter NINE

  Alex> THURSDAY

  “Bye, honey,” Alex’s mom said, kissing her on the forehead.

  “See you after practice, Mom,” Alex replied. She shifted her backpack onto her back, picked up her crutches, and started slowly hopping toward the entrance to her school building. She was aware of the looks she was getting from everyone as she hobbled in, but none of the looks were mean.

  A boy she didn’t recognize held the front door open for her.