Knox keeps his feelings about bubblegum pop a secret from Jax, and this must be what he plans to play next week. Vivi’s a genius. This is a perfect Knox task to go with my trip to the library.
I open my mouth to ask what he’s playing so I can see exactly how embarrassing this is going to be, but Knox shakes his head before I get words out. “I don’t have to tell Lilla, right? I can surprise her?”
I’m a little disappointed, but I like that he wants to surprise me.
Vivi nods. “Surprises are okay.”
Knox meets my eyes and some of that feeling from the creek sparks.
Being brave isn’t all bad.
CHAPTER 14
Well Rounded
That night I bounce my legs up and down while I sit on a hard metal folding chair between Vivi and Mom.
Mom didn’t freak out when I said I wanted to stay after and go to the arts session with Dad, but she got quiet. The way she does when she is Disappointed in Me. Even though she didn’t say anything this time, I could hear all her words from before. About how women have worked so hard to open up opportunities in math and science. And how all I have to do is walk through the door. And how my generation is so lucky.
I feel sick.
Mom didn’t like when I quit gymnastics, but she gave in pretty easy. Gymnastics wasn’t a career or even something I’d do in college, and it wasn’t like I was breaking any barriers doing it.
But this. This is different. It’s clear Mom would not be thrilled if I said I wanted to do the arts program. She’d hate that I’d be giving up my chance to be a Girl in Science.
Still, I know that if told her I really love drawing, she would support me. In time, she’d get it. But there is literally no way I can tell her—or Dad—that I don’t want to do either one.
I’m not sure how to explain it. I’m not lazy. I just don’t want to give up everything so I can be good at one thing. And I don’t want to keep taking classes with girls who cry when they get B’s and boys who argue their way into A’s. And when I grow up, I don’t want to spend my entire life doing one thing. Like my parents.
I’m relieved when the woman at the podium—some kind of principal, I’d guess, from her gray suit—starts on time. I want to get this over with. She goes over the admissions requirements—test scores, grades, showcase exhibit.
Some parts do sound pretty cool. There’s a research class where you get to work with a scientist at the college. And a few sports. For girls—soccer, softball, field hockey, and track, which sound an awful lot like Prisha’s list of appropriate girl sports.
When it’s time for questions, only grown-ups speak. They ask about the admission process and college placement and test scores. The average SAT score for Grover Academy students is 150 points higher than for kids at Morningside.
“This is why this is so important,” Mom whispers. “It’s going to launch your whole life.”
Then one woman—I’m not sure whose mom she is—says, “What about the arts?”
I sit up in my chair.
The woman at the podium says everyone needs to take half a credit in fine or performing arts. Half a credit. You could round it to zero.
Both Mom and Vivi turn to me because they know I care about this. I smile like this is totally fine.
It is not totally fine. Going here would mean giving up half of myself.
“Do students in the science track have opportunities to take classes on the arts side?” the mom asks. “I’d like Ian to be well rounded.”
“This is a school for gifted kids,” the woman at the podium responds. “Why would you want your child to spend his time on something he’ll only ever be mediocre at? It takes ten thousand hours to become expert. The kids we admit—to both tracks—have enormous potential, but they need to commit. For well rounded, I’d suggest Morningside.”
There’s some nervous laughter. Mom nods enthusiastically, and the queasiness in my stomach kicks into overdrive.
I don’t hear the last few questions. I sort of can’t believe that I’m not even thirteen years old and everyone seems to think it’s perfectly right and good that I make a decision about the Rest of My Life.
Mom squeezes my hand. “It sounds great, doesn’t it?” I nod and look at Vivi. She pushes her lips together in sympathy, and my tears well up. I need a minute to get myself together before I have to do this again with Dad.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I say.
Hearing the tremor in my voice, Mom looks closely. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Allergies. I’ll just…” I wave toward the side door. “And then meet Dad out front.”
Mom squeezes me. “Love you.”
“You too.” I leap out of my seat.
I’m already in the hall by the time I see that Vivi followed me. I turn away. I can’t deal with her telling me to speak up right now.
Then my phone buzzes.
Dad: Where are you? It’s about to start.
Lilla: Bathroom. Just a minute.
Dad: Oh! Sorry.
Dad’s freaked out by cell phone use in bathrooms. It’s useful sometimes.
“It’ll be okay,” Vivi says. “Whatever you choose, your parents will come around. Eventually.”
“I’m just not this kind of kid. But I don’t know how to tell them.”
She pulls me into a hug. “You’ll figure it out.” This is why I love Vivi. She pushes me, but she listens too.
When I don’t move for what is definitely too long, Vivi says, “Come on. We’d better find your dad.”
He’s standing in the lobby in front of the auditorium, looking at his phone.
“What took you so long?” he says. His face gets all nervous. “Did something happen in the bathroom?”
“No. What would happen in the bathroom?”
“You know,” he whispers. “Secret things.”
I swear Dad’s biggest regret about the divorce is that he might someday have to talk to me about my period. This is probably why he’s out looking for someone to be my stepmother.
“Gah. No. Just.” I stop talking because I’m distracted by Knox, who is scowling up at his dad as they walk through the lobby. I’m surprised. School events are usually his mom’s thing. Knox shakes his head and storms off into auditorium. His dad follows. He does not look happy.
“Let’s go inside,” I say to Dad.
Vivi hugs me. “Good luck.”
“Are you meeting us after?”
“I don’t think so.” She holds up her phone. “There’s some pickup soccer going on outside. I’m going to ask if I can do that instead of going home right away.”
“Okay. I’ll text when I get home.”
Dad and I find a seat. Searching, I see the back of Knox’s head up near the front. He’s sitting ramrod straight, as far from his dad as he can get in his chair.
A woman takes the podium. Instead of a suit, she’s wearing a flowing orange skirt. A bright pink scarf holds back her mountain of curls. They lean pretty hard into this arts-science divide.
“That’s Marian Ortega,” Dad says. “She’s a painter and one of the associate principals.”
I pull out my phone.
Lilla: You okay?
Knox: Not now. It’s about to start.
“Shouldn’t you pay attention?” Dad says. He means pay attention!
“Apparently.”
I don’t listen as closely this time. Partly because I just heard all the bits about how the school works and the sports and the clubs and partly because I’m worried about Knox. He doesn’t get upset easily.
I do catch that you get to take an art class at the college your senior year and do a public exhibition in the city, but that you only get into AP physics or chemistry if there’s room after the science kids sign up.
“But noooooo!” someone calls out, and everyone laughs.
No one asks about being well rounded.
“Very exciting,” Dad says once we’re in the lobby. I’m watching the exit fo
r Knox. Dad gives me a little squeeze. “I’m so proud of you. I would have killed the family dog for a chance like this.”
Yikes. No strong feelings there.
“Thanks,” I say, not looking at Dad. “You can go home if you want. I’m going to do ice cream with Knox.” I gesture toward where Knox and his dad are coming out of the auditorium, a good three feet of space between them.
“And Vivi? She’ll be there too?” Dad says. There’s something more than curiosity in his voice. Maybe suspicion? His eyes move back and forth between Knox and me. Is he worried about us being alone together? Because Knox is a boy?
“Vivi’s outside,” I say. Another white lie. I never noticed how often I did this until Vivi asked me to keep track.
“Okay,” Dad says. “Have fun then.” The relief on his face tells me I’m right, and that makes me a little angry because whatever this new thing is that I’m feeling, Knox is also the boy I went to kindergarten with.
I want to tell Dad to stop being ridiculous, but I’m afraid that if I do, I will give myself away because everything is so complicated now. Knox is my friend, but he is also all of a sudden this Cute Boy Person. If I say too much, Dad might see how I feel and not let me go with him.
I can’t let that happen. Because whatever else is going on, Knox is sad tonight, and he needs someone to talk to, and I am his friend.
And that will always be true.
I hope.
CHAPTER 15
Bad Boys
I catch up to Knox and his dad out in front of the school. Out loud, I say, “You still up for ice cream?” My eyes ask if he’s okay. Knox gives me the smallest of headshakes.
His dad smiles. Really big. I take a step back. “Hi, Lilla. Good to see you. Maybe you can coax a few words out of my son.”
“Hi, Mr. Donohue,” I say quietly, trying to figure out what Knox wants me to do. “Is it okay if Knox comes out with Vivi and me for a bit?”
“Sure!” he says in a loud voice. He claps Knox on the shoulder, but Knox jerks away. “You’re a lucky guy. Going out with two pretty girls.”
“Pretty isn’t the most important thing about them,” says Knox. “They’re, like, actual human beings.”
Uh-oh. I have no idea what’s going on here. Knox and his dad have never gotten along super great, but usually he’s more silent than snarky.
“I’ll let your mother know where you are.”
“I have a phone,” says Knox. “Don’t bother.”
“See you this weekend then.”
“Yeah. Those are the rules.”
His dad leaves.
Knox watches him go, takes a deep breath, and looks at his shoes. “I don’t actually feel like ice cream tonight. Why don’t you and Vivi go?”
“Knox,” I say quietly. “What’s going on?”
He shakes his head a little. There are tears in the corners of his eyes. This is terrifying. I haven’t seen Knox cry since second grade when he fell off a slide and broke his arm. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hands.
“Sorry,” he says.
“Let’s get out of here.” I pull him forward.
“What about Vivi? I don’t think…” His voice trails off. This must be about the divorce. That’s the one thing he never talks about with her.
“She’s playing soccer,” I say. “She’s not expecting us.”
He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Okay.”
It’s twilight, and the air has that kind of coolness that only happens on summer evenings. Without talking, Knox and I head toward the river.
Near the college library, there’s a ledge of wide, flat rocks that you can only find by pushing through a thicket of bushes. Our spot since we were little. Sometimes we find an old soda can or initials scratched into the stone, so I know other people come here. But I’m always surprised when I see that stuff. It feels like ours alone.
Tonight, we kick off our shoes and sit on the edge. Knox’s feet reach the water, but I can only touch if I point my toes.
I really want to know what’s going on, but I leave it be. Knox wouldn’t have cried unless it was big, and he’s probably rattled having done it in front of me. He’ll talk when he’s ready.
A dragonfly floats down, touches the water, and rises back up. Anisoptera. Mom says girl dragonflies sometimes pretend to be dead so the boy dragonflies leave them alone.
I get it, but it seems extreme.
“My dad’s getting remarried,” Knox says finally.
Oh. The tears make sense now. I would have felt sorry for him before, but now that I’ve been thinking about how awful it would be if Dad remarried, I’m even more sympathetic. “To who?” I ask.
He gives me a look. “Ashley. She graduates from college this year.” There is so much he’s not saying packed into those words. But I’ve been around for all of it, so I know.
When we were in fourth grade, Knox had this really great babysitter. But she broke her leg toward the end of the year, and her best friend, Ashley, took over. Knox’s parents divorced three months later.
I can’t imagine how awful this must be. Knowing the person who ended your parents’ marriage is going to be in your life forever. Or at least until your dad moves on again.
“I’m sorry.” I lean in to him. Before, I might have taken his hand or even put my arm around him, but after the creek, that all feels like too much.
“He was all proud. Said, ‘She’s closer to your age than mine!’”
“Yuck.”
“I won’t tell you what he said next, but it was even worse. He’s awful. I can’t figure out if he was always like this or if it’s new.”
I’m about to ask if it matters, but then I remember crying in Vivi’s kitchen, and the way I keep trying to figure out what Mom and Dad’s choices mean for me. Knox has to be doing the same thing. Maybe he’s worried that if this is who his dad always was, then it’s inside him too.
“You’re different than he is,” I say.
Knox turns his head to look at me but doesn’t speak, and I’m suddenly aware of how close his face is to mine. My heart beat speeds up a little.
“You are.”
“This sucks in so many ways,” he says. “But you want to know the worst?”
I nod.
“The way he told me like I was one of the guys—not his son. Like he doesn’t want to be a father.”
I hadn’t planned on talking about this with Knox, but being honest feels like one of the only things I can do for him. We talked a lot about the divorces back when they happened, but we haven’t for a while. Now that I think about it, it’s been a long time since we’ve been together without Vivi or Colby. As terrible as this news is, it’s sort of nice to do it again.
“My dad isn’t like yours,” I say.
“I know,” he says quickly.
“But he’s seeing someone. He doesn’t want to tell me who.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Yeah. And my mom’s keeping a secret. A big one, I think. But I don’t know what.”
“It’s worse when they don’t tell you what’s going on. I guess I should thank my dad for that much.”
Knox is right. The most horrible part of the divorce was the two weeks before they told me. I could tell something terrible was happening, but I didn’t know what. Whatever is going on with them now feels a little bit like that. Like I’m alone in the dark.
“It’s weird,” I say. “Until my parents got divorced, I didn’t realize how much of their lives have nothing to do with me.”
Knox makes a sound that is almost, but not quite, a laugh. “With my parents, I’ve always been pretty clear about that.”
“I know,” I say. I want to take his hand, but I’m not brave enough. “The thing is, it might be true of all parents, even the ones who stay together?”
“What do you mean?”
“I was at Vivi’s the other day and her parents…” My voice trails off. I cannot say they were kissing. Out loud. To Knox.
“What?” he says, looking mystified.
“They were just really happy. And I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t think they stay together because of Vivi and Gabi. They like each other. That’s why they stay married. When you’re little, you think you’re the center of your parents’ whole world. But maybe you’re not?”
I look at Knox to see if any of this makes sense. After a little bit, he says, “That shouldn’t make me feel better. But it does.”
It might make me feel better too. If I’m not the only thing that matters in my parents’ world, then maybe I don’t have to make them happy. Maybe that’s their job.
“Ice cream?” Knox stands, obviously wanting to put all this behind us for a little while.
While I check my phone, I admit to myself that I’m a little disappointed. I’m a big fan of ice cream, but I already miss the warmth of his shoulder next to mine. “I only have half an hour.”
“We can eat while I walk you home.”
“Sounds good.” I get to my feet. “You’re going to be okay?”
“Yeah.” He gives me a quick hug, stepping back before I can settle on whether I’m excited or embarrassed or nervous. “Thanks, Lil.”
My heart thumps. “No problem.”
Mom and I get up early to hit our favorite pancake place before she goes off to Chicago, and I head to my first day of training at the museum. She orders scrambled eggs, whole-wheat toast, and a half a grapefruit. She’s healthy like that. I order sticky toffee pancakes. Because to do anything else would be wrong.
We both focus on our phones until the food comes, but once we’re eating, she says, “Nervous about today?”
I shake my head. All the hard stuff is over. The only thing I have left to be nervous about is Vivi finding out that I got her science spot. And I’m going to tell her. Soon.
“What about you?” I ask. “What is this talk? You don’t usually have conferences in June.”
“This is something a little different.”
Summer of Brave Page 7
