“I’ll see you at the school tonight?” Mom asks when I go upstairs to say goodbye. “Vivi’s parents are bringing you?”
Right. The magnet school meetings.
“Yeah, we’ll meet you there,” I answer.
She makes a sad face. “I feel like I never see you anymore.”
Guilt hits me out of nowhere, setting off a little storm somewhere deep inside. It’s not fair. Why should I feel guilty when she’s the one keeping secrets?
“That’s math for you,” I say. “Divide my time in half, and it’s going to be less.”
I keep my voice light, but Mom sits back a little. “You remember I’m going to Chicago tomorrow?”
I didn’t, but I nod. She said this to make me feel worse. And even though I know that, it still works. I can’t let her leave while I feel like this, so I force a smile. “Do you have time to go out to breakfast first?”
Her eyes light up. “Sure, I’d like that.”
“Me too.” Sort of. Which I guess makes it one more lie, but that challenge is over anyway.
I take the long way to the middle school practice fields, walking along the river through campus so I can enjoy the quiet magic of the light in the trees. I take a few minutes to finish the sketch I started on the last day of school. It’s a different time of day, but it works.
Walking this way—instead of through town—takes me to the boys’ field first. And I know, however pretty the campus is, this is why I came the way I did. I want to watch Knox without Vivi watching me.
I meet Vivi and Knox after soccer all the time, but I always get Vivi first because sometime in the last couple years, being the only girl around a bunch of boys has gotten weird. I’ve never felt afraid. I’m just super aware that they’re looking at me and seeing a girl, and I don’t want to deal with it.
So I hang back near a cluster of trees where I’m out of the way. Even so, I find Knox easily in the middle of all the identically dressed boys. He plays differently than Vivi, who’s all speed and focus. Knox laughs and trash-talks his friends and clowns with the ball. I’ve known him since I was four, and I’ve seen him play a million times. But I’ve never looked at him like this. And I can’t help but wonder, why? Did some timer go off inside me, and Knox was in the line of fire?
If a crush is some stage I have to go through, it would be better with someone else. This is a friendship I want to keep.
Colby’s out there. And Max, who I sat by during coding last year. And Aiden, who edged me out for first place in the science fair. I can totally see why someone might like any one of them. But looking at them doesn’t give me that strange tingly warmth I felt crossing the creek yesterday. Maybe if one of them picked me up?
None of this makes sense.
“What are you doing here?” Vivi asks, coming up behind me. She must have got out early.
“I told you I’d meet you.”
“But?” She looks back toward her field.
“I came through campus.”
She looks out at Knox, who’s finishing up. “Hmm.”
Knox and Colby jog over. Knox slaps Vivi five and tugs my ponytail. I’m not sure how to rank these gestures. And I know it’s wrong to try. But, really, do they mean something different? Is there some chart I could check on the Internet?
“What’s the plan?” Knox asks.
“Home for lunch. Then walk over to the library,” Vivi says, pleased with herself. “Lilla’s going to check out a book.”
“Why?” I ask.
“You’re going to get a book you actually want,” Vivi says. “On Monday.”
Oh. I see where she’s going with this. Mrs. Wilder works at the library on Mondays, and we have a history. “That’s not nice,” I say.
“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” Colby asks.
“It’s a stupid bet,” Knox answers.
Vivi looks hurt. Probably I do too. I know Knox was only half kidding when he said he’s glad his guy friends don’t know what he does when he hangs out with us, but still. As frustrating as our Summer Wish can be, it’s not a stupid bet. It’s more.
Knox gives us both a look of apology but doesn’t explain the wish to Colby. Instead he says, “Vivi’s decided that Lilla and I need to be brave.”
Colby looks puzzled. “What does that have to do with Mrs. Wilder?”
“Want to come find out?” Vivi asks.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Colby says to Vivi. I guess I don’t get a say.
“Library at two.”
On the way to her house, I try to talk Vivi out of the plan. “How about if we go to the grocery store, and when the checkout girl asks how I am, instead of saying ‘fine,’ I’ll tell her how I really am?”
“How are you really?”
I think about that for a minute. I’m worried about my parents, confused about Knox, a little nervous how things might be changing between me and Vivi, and freaked out about the whole magnet school thing, but I’m also thrilled about the summer camp. These are not exactly things I want to talk about though, especially with a grocery-store clerk.
“Fine, I guess.”
“Mrs. Wilder it is then,” Vivi says as she opens the door to the mudroom.
Then she leaps back, bumping into me. Looking over her shoulder, I see why. Her mom and dad are kissing. And not like parents. Like people in a movie. Her mom’s sitting on the washing machine while her dad stands in front of her, his hands on her waist.
“Mom. Dad,” Vivi says. “Get it together here.”
Her mom leaps down from the washing machine. But she leans back against Vivi’s dad while he wraps his arms around her, so I don’t think she feels all that embarrassed.
“Hello, Lilla. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” I say. But tears well up in my eyes, and my chest feels heavy. Vivi doesn’t want to see her parents acting like teenagers, but I’d give anything to see my parents together like this. Not only because my life would be better, but because it would feel like a promise of what it could be.
Some part of me believes the reason my parents got divorced is because Mom was too much for Dad, with her traveling and her big opinions and loud emotions. But Vivi’s mom is a sociology professor, and she writes books and goes to conferences and argues with Vivi’s dad using lots of words I don’t understand, and he doesn’t seem to mind at all. From what I just saw, I’d say he likes it. A lot.
Every time I come to Vivi’s, I try to figure this out. Because my mom and dad argued too—in that way I thought was playful—but they got divorced. I can’t understand the difference. And because of that, I don’t know how to be. How difficult are you allowed to get before the people in your life want to leave?
“Sorry,” Vivi’s mom says again, and this time it means something different. She pulls me into a hug and strokes my hair. “I am very sorry, Lilla.”
And then I’m sobbing in a way I never have in front of anyone—not my parents, not Vivi, not the therapist who kept telling me it was okay to cry in her office. Vivi’s mom doesn’t say anything but holds me. Vivi wraps her arms around both of us.
When I calm down, her mom puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes me back a little bit. “I know it’s hard now. In some ways, it will always be hard, but it will get better too.”
“How do you know?”
“Divorce isn’t the only way things go wrong.” When she says this, a flash of panic hits. Is someone in Vivi’s family sick? But then I remember all the years between Vivi and Gabi and how sad Vivi’s mom looked whenever she saw a baby during that time.
“Are you okay?” Vivi’s mom asks.
I wipe my eyes. “I’m fine.”
Vivi snorts.
CHAPTER 13
Kissing Books
“All right. What are the rules?”
We’re in the courtyard in front of the library. Vivi, Knox, and Colby take turns sliding down the waxed stone arms on either side of the front steps. It’s a beautiful old building, but I’m
in no mood.
“Go tell Mrs. Wilder which book you want, Lilla,” Knox says, laughter in his voice.
“And it has to be something you really want,” Vivi says. “No pretending you suddenly can’t wait to read Black Beauty.”
“And no lying when she asks you questions,” Knox adds.
“Including white lies,” Vivi says.
“Why would you lie?” Colby asks. “I like talking to Mrs. Wilder about books.”
“You wouldn’t if you read the kind of books Lilla does,” Vivi says.
Colby gives me look. “Okay. Now, I’m interested. Can we watch?”
“Of course,” Vivi says just as I say, “Absolutely not.”
“There’s no way we’re letting you go in there alone,” Knox says.
“You think I’d lie to you?”
“Yes,” all three of them say together.
“Fine.” I fling open the door, and they scramble to follow me.
Mrs. Wilder was my third-grade teacher. When she retired, she started volunteering at the library on Mondays.
She likes to talk about the books you check out. This was great for a long time. We agreed that books about orphaned sets of twins were always better than books about dogs that die. We disagreed about Junie B. Jones, but liked arguing about it. I think Junie B. is hilarious. Mrs. Wilder wishes she wouldn’t say “stupid” so much and that her mother yelled less. Mrs. Wilder also taught me to read graphic novels—I found all the pictures really distracting at first—and she introduced me to Anne of Green Gables, so I will always be grateful.
But.
Lately, I do not want to talk about the books I check out. They are just for me. I don’t leave them lying around, because Mom finds my taste in books disappointing, and even Vivi gets one-word answers when she asks about them. Knox and Dad know better than to bring it up at all.
So I don’t usually come to the library on Mondays. Because when Mrs. Wilder sees me in the young adult section, she starts saying things about swoony heroes and meet-cutes and all sorts of other words I do not want to hear out loud—especially from her—because talking about book boyfriends with grown-ups, even nice ones, is icky.
Vivi and Knox have been pushing me for a while to tell Mrs. Wilder that I want to be left alone about my books. But I can’t make myself do it. It feels mean.
Almost right away, I find what I’m looking for—a book about a boy and a girl who fall for each other while leaving notes in a journal they hide all over the city. And bonus. The cover is all abstract reds and blues. No embarrassing close-ups of real kids kissing, which I could not have dealt with today with Knox smirking at me from across the library. I should have brought a bag to stuff the book in after I check it out.
When I go by the information desk, Mrs. Wilder says, “Hi, Lilla. What have you got?”
Vivi makes the I’m-watching-you sign with her fingers, while Knox mouths, “Yes, Lilla, what have you got?” His smile says he has a pretty good idea.
I turn my back to them and hold up my book to Mrs. Wilder.
“Oh, you’ll like that,” she says. “So cute and nothing inappropriate for younger readers.”
Lately, this word comes up a lot around my reading. Inappropriate. But nothing I’ve read in the last year has been anywhere near as alarming as those feral cat books in the children’s section that everyone kept pushing on me a while ago. They weren’t my thing, but I know from Vivi that there were cats fighting and cats mating and a mother cat who put down her kid because he was some kind of evil cat villain or something. I can’t imagine why anyone thinks that’s more appropriate than two kids falling in love.
“If you like that one,” Mrs. Wilder says, “you might like this too.” She grabs a book from the return cart behind her. The cover has a boy and girl holding hands with hearts all over the place. I hop to put my body between the book and the audience behind me. Vivi giggles.
“I’m good. Thanks,” I say quietly.
“Well, you’ll have to tell me what you think of that one. I adored Dash.”
Here is the moment. I look over my shoulder at Vivi. She gives me a thumbs-up. Colby’s scrolling through his phone, but Knox smiles at me, encouraging now.
I don’t want to hurt Mrs. Wilder’s feelings or cause a scene. But I also don’t want to have to do this whenever I come into the library. I can’t figure out how much I should care about other people’s feelings. How much of myself am I supposed to give up to make them happy?
Sensing something’s wrong, Mrs. Wilder says, “Lilla? What is it?”
I hug my book to my chest, feeling my heart beat harder. This is such a small thing. In my head, I know that. But saying what I want out loud when it will make someone—especially a grown-up—unhappy feels huge.
But Vivi will be so disappointed if I give up. And Knox will win this round without even having to do his part of the challenge.
I take a deep breath. “I think I’m getting to a stage where I don’t want to talk about my books so much?” My voice gets real quiet, but I say it. “They feel private?”
I can’t tell if the charge that runs through me when I say this is fear or excitement.
“Oh!” Mrs. Wilder says, taking a step back. “Of course. I’m sorry.”
I feel terrible. “No, I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “It’s not you. I don’t want to talk about what I’m reading with anyone.”
Mrs. Wilder touches my arm. She doesn’t seem upset at all. “I understand,” she says. “You’re allowed to keep your reading a personal experience if that’s what you want.”
Is it really this easy? Can you just say what you want and people listen? I feel like I learned a magic trick.
Vivi squeezes me as soon as I get outside with my book. “You did it! And now you can go to the library without worrying about all that. It was worth it, wasn’t it?”
“You do the best Summer Wishes,” I admit.
Vivi grins. “So will you tell your parents about the magnet school now, instead of doing some supersecret Lilla plan?”
“I don’t know.” There’s a big difference between telling Mrs. Wilder I’m growing out of talking about my books and telling my parents I’m a terrible daughter. Fortunately, Knox and Colby come out of the library then with their own books, so Vivi and I can stop talking about it.
Colby reaches around me to grab for my book. “I want to see what all the fuss was about.”
Vivi slaps his hand.
“Hey!” he says.
Vivi looks at me.
“What?” I say.
“Tell Colby you don’t want to talk about what you’re reading.”
Knox laughs. “I think your smackdown took care of that.”
“Lilla needs to do it.”
“Colby,” I say. “I’d rather not talk about what I’m reading.”
“That doesn’t make me less curious,” Colby says.
“Listen to Lilla,” Vivi says. “She’s still learning to speak up, and she needs the win.”
“Celebrate at Cookie Mistake?” Knox asks.
“Can’t,” Colby responds. “I have to get home. Thanks for the entertainment, Lilla. Bye, Troublemaker.” He tugs Vivi’s ponytail.
“You’re afraid if you stick around I’ll make you improve yourself too.”
“No danger of that,” he says.
Once we’re settled at a table in front of the bakery with cup-cakes and drinks, I say, “What about Knox?”
“You’re not done,” Vivi says. “That program’s tonight. It’s time to tell your parents what you want for school. And what you don’t want.”
“Um, no. That’s not how this works. Knox is next, or I win this round,” I say. “Besides, maybe I’ll hear something that will change my mind. I’m not totally sure what I want.”
“What are you talking about?” Knox says. “Is this about whether you do drawing or science? Are your parents being pushy?”
Vivi looks at me and crosses her arms, letting me know it’s ti
me to talk. It’s not that I want to keep this from Knox in particular. It’s just the more I say it out loud, the more real it gets.
“Fine,” I say to Vivi before looking at Knox. “I might not want to go to the magnet school at all.”
Knox looks as shocked as Vivi did. I tell him all the things I told her.
“Wouldn’t you miss us?” He looks hurt. Maybe this is a mistake.
“Of course. But I’d still see you both, right? You wouldn’t stop being my friends because we didn’t go to school together?”
“Never,” he says, tossing his balled-up straw wrapper at me. “You’re stuck with me.”
I meet his eyes and smile.
Vivi clears her throat. “Me either.”
I look down at my cupcake, equally embarrassed and happy.
“But then why go to that meeting tonight?” Knox asks.
“I told my mom and dad I’m still trying to decide between programs.”
“Lilla, rip the band-aid off,” Vivi says.
I shake my head. “Not yet. I might still go. They really want this for me. And they’re my parents. I can’t say I want to give up this amazing experience because I’d rather do color guard than homework. They’ll never understand.”
“Color guard?” Knox asks.
“I think it would be fun to twirl a flag and march in parades. And I like those little white boots they wear.”
Confused, Knox and Vivi study me. Vivi opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again.
“Never mind,” I say. “That part’s not important. Let’s talk about what’s next for Knox.”
Vivi smiles. “I’ve got a good one for him, but he has to wait till Saturday.”
“What?” he says. “Why?” He’s nervous. Good.
“You’re going to go to No Strings Attached and tell Jax what you’re playing for the showcase.”
“You are not a nice girl, Vivian,” Knox says. No Strings Attached is the hipster music store where Knox likes to hang out. Jax is a college student who works weekends, plays the guitar, and wears one of those knitted hats even in the summer. He talks about bands Knox has never heard of, but Knox always pretends he has, and Knox always acts annoyed when Jax calls him “Little X.” But I know he wants to be Jax when he grows up.
Summer of Brave Page 6
