by Lexie Bean
We turned off all the lights and counted down, “five, four, three, two, one,” and screamed, “ZIGAZIG AHHH.” We picked up our rainbow confetti by the handful and threw it as high as we could. My arms stretched out all the way into the pitch black and I could feel the pieces moving all around me. Sofie tapped on my shoulder with “I have an idea.” I love it when she says that. She fumbled through the dark and plugged in every night-light one by one. The lights circled the whole room like a family of fireflies, their yellow glow brightened all the places we couldn’t see before. We quickly discovered a bunch of our confetti landed on top of the fort blankets, in our hair. Some fell perfectly into the back my sweatshirt. I pulled my hood up, and let the colorful pieces slowly fall in front of my eyes.
We played another game after that. I showed Sofie how to make crowns using needle, thread, and popcorn. It felt good to teach something I know I’m good at. I pulled the sewing needle through each little kernel without trying hard at all. Sofie followed my lead, and she was a real natural at it. The butter actually made the jewelry look like it was made out of gold. Tying the knot at the end is always the hardest part, though, because everything can come undone just like that. Luckily, Sofie offered me her hand. I wrapped the string tight around her finger and then looped the two ends so they can never come apart. I think that’s what the song “2 Become 1” is all about.
Anyways, Sofie and I put the pretty popcorn crowns on each other’s heads. I hoped that we would smell like movie theater butter forever and ever. After that, we made up a long secret handshake that involved doing a bow and curtsy for each other. We smiled and smiled until we accidentally pointed at each other’s crowns and said “You did a great job” at the same exact time. It was so funny that we forgot to call jinx. It really felt like we were glowing in the dark while we giggled about nothing. We had to lie down and put hands on our bellies to make our laughing stop.
Then out of the blue, Sofie rolled over and her smile changed. She took a big bite of leftover popcorn and looked at me. I got nervous that maybe I had done something wrong, like maybe she noticed that I did a bow instead of a curtsy. But then she asked, “Truth or truth?” Of course I said “Truth.”
“Tell me one of your biggest secrets,” she practically dared me.
I know I said that I wouldn’t share anything bad in this letter, but I have to tell you something.
I didn’t tell the truth at all for that “truth.” I ruined the game, and told her someone else’s secret instead. I told Sofie about the girl who always sits at the lunch table behind me. She was actually born sick with something. I forget what it’s called, but it makes it hard to ride a bike. There are just some things that I can’t tell Sofie yet. Do you think something is a secret when I can hardly say it to myself? I don’t know.
Do you think I was born sick? I know that God didn’t make a mistake in making me a girl, but I know who I am and I know I’m much more than my body. God doesn’t even have a body. I know that my parents feel differently. They are trying to fix me.
Mom and Dad actually hate my haircut so much that last weekend they made me wear a flower hat when I was outside at the same time as the neighbors. They want people to know what I’m supposed to be. My parents don’t even want me at church because they don’t want anybody to ask questions about me. Please don’t tell anyone that I’m not allowed to go to church anymore. A lot of kids at my school are getting their reconciliations right now. I’m not so sure what it actually means, but I feel like I’m supposed to get a reconciliation too. I wish I could tell Sofie all of this, but I can’t. I don’t want Sofie to worry about me, and there’s nothing she can do to stop it anyways.
Mr. B always likes to say “We are as sick as our secrets,” and I think finally I get what that means now.
Sorry if this is too much. I almost just want to stop writing and send my balloon now, so I don’t have to look at this anymore. This is exactly why I didn’t tell Sofie the truth about Sundays when she asked me about my big secrets. There are a lot of other things I could have told her too, about my parents, about my dad. But I can’t go there. It’s too much, and maybe I am too.
So, you know what I did after that? I told Sofie more lies, one about a time we saw Bigfoot at Girl Scout camp, another about Jax the dog coming over to my house. She listened that whole entire time with her mouth open, like she was trying to take in every word I said. I love that she always believes in me, but I kind of wish she didn’t that time. Don’t you know I was just trying to be normal and go to a regular slumber party and feel good. I really don’t know how to do that, though.
I didn’t want to talk anymore after that.
I asked her, “Can we go sit in our old ship now?” She nodded, and we climbed inside of the refrigerator box. I noticed she has been drawing all kinds of pictures on the cardboard sides, rainbows even. It felt a little bit smaller than before, so Sofie and I had to curl up into a ball together. We both smelled like popcorn. Sofie’s long dark hair blended with mine, and her hand was only inches away. I closed my eyes and started to dream of our box floating down a river together. I don’t know how long we were there for, but I knew deep down that we couldn’t just fall asleep together like that.
I took away my hands to rub my eyes and fake a yawn. We crawled out of the ship and into our own sleeping bags. Both of our heads fit perfectly under the two kitchen chairs holding up our fort. We said our quick good-nights, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I wasn’t sure where I was allowed to look, so I just stared at the tree rings underneath the chair for what felt like an hour.
Maybe it was two in the morning at this point, but I eventually rolled onto my side to try emptying out my brain. My thoughts usually get the loudest at nighttime. Sofie was just close enough for me to hear her breathing slow and steady with a tiny yawn in between. I stayed as still as I could until my breathing matched hers.
Is it weird to call someone beautiful when all the lights are off, and we can’t even see each other? I went to sleep instead of finding out.
That night I dreamt I was in a shipwreck with my dad. He lived, but I fell into the sea. I sank and sank just when I thought water was for floating. They say that if you die in your dream, you die in real life, but I woke up extra early this morning with crust in my eyelids and a burning lump in my throat. Maybe it was my punishment for something.
I inched my knees as close to Sofie as possible without touching. She had her worn princess sleeping bag pulled all the way up to her eyes. I whispered, “See you tomorrow at school, I hope.” I knelt next to her waiting for her to say something back, but she didn’t wake up. That felt like the wrong way to say goodbye, but I had to get home and put a purple headband in my hair before my parents came back from church. I knew that we were going on another long drive today. I crawled out of our fort, and stumbled in the dark to put everything into my backpack.
When I got upstairs, I was surprised to see Mrs. Gavia in the kitchen wearing her striped pajamas and hairnet. She looked almost as tired as me, except she is allowed to drink coffee. She was putting Viivi in the high chair and she asked me, “Don’t you want anything to eat?” I was just trying to leave without anybody noticing, so I stood there like a deer in headlights. I couldn’t think of a good escape plan, so I said in a scratchy voice “Yes, thank you” to the easiest thing possible.
She dug through the kitchen cupboards and asked me two times in a row, “Are you okay going home, honey?” That’s when I started a new round of the no talking game. I’m still playing, and not just because I have a sore throat.
I ended up leaving Sofie’s house with a bunch of corn cereal in my hands and a little bit in my windbreaker pockets too. It tasted like the healthiest thing I’ve ever had in my whole life, much healthier than my usual Cookie Crisp and buttery toast. I have to admit, I didn’t know what to think of it. Hopefully Mrs. Gavia never finds out, but I decided to feed the little cereal pieces to
some happy-looking tree rats and keep walking.
The rest of that walk felt lonelier than most. The sun was so bright outside, I had to squint my eyes. There were no clouds to give pretty silver linings. The trees didn’t have shade either because they’re still trying to make new leaves. I don’t know what in the world those trees are waiting for. I could feel the heat from my throat spread into a fever and the sides of my head started knocking when I realized I left my popcorn crown in Sofie’s basement. I think I forgot my toothbrush too. I can’t believe I did that.
I actually thought about just walking forever and skipping this entire day, but I didn’t. You know what stopped me? I wanted to write this letter first. I wanted to tell you about all the good parts so then I could remember them better. I hate thinking that I was born sick, and that everybody thinks Sofie is somehow making it worse.
I know that we’re strangers and all, but just promise that you won’t try to fix me, okay? I’m only sick with a cold or something.
Sincerely,
Me
Tuesday, March 31, 1998
Hi again,
What do you think about the phrase “Dance like nobody is watching”? It’s written on a piece of fake wood in our living room. Mom loves inspiring words like that. The thing is, though, I’ve never actually seen her dance before. Maybe she only does it when nobody is watching. Do you ever let people watch you with their eyes or with their camcorders?
I secretly like to dance. When I let myself move, I really jump, I really leap. One time in Sofie’s basement, we pretended we were the Spice Girls at the Mr. Steps dancing boot camp. We wiggled around with umbrellas and leaped over inflatable lake tubes, just like in the movie Spice World. After that, we listened to Sofie’s Selena tape, and she showed me this cool dance move called the washing machine. It’s like the Macarena, but all in your hips. It wasn’t like gym class, which makes me feel like anything I do with my arms and legs is so wrong. Especially when we had our square dancing unit, I really hated that.
Gym is actually the worst and it’s the only class that doesn’t have inspirational quotes on the walls. If I were in charge, I would change that. Gym class today was especially tough. There was no jungle gym obstacle course or play parachute or anything fun like that. Nathan Lucas led us through ten jumping jacks, ten crunches, and ten toe touches with his one arm free because the other one is still in a cast. After that, the gym teacher made two students be team captains for the day. The captains stood in front of the whole room and picked people one by one to join their teams. And you know what? I hate that because they always choose their friends, so I always get picked close to last. You’re very lucky if you have never had this problem.
Of course Dylan was one of the two captains this afternoon. He wanted to make the perfect baseball team. I honestly don’t know why we bothered, because Yoopers aren’t even supposed to play baseball. It’s just supposed to be hockey, basketball, football, maybe soccer, and then more hockey. I guess I’m not so good at any of those either. I waited for five whole minutes until there was just me and Nathan Lucas waiting to get picked. Maybe it’s cool to be left with the stretch leader of the day, but I could tell Dylan was doing “eeny, meeny, miny, moe” to decide who to pick between the two of us. Nathan Lucas jingled the marbles in his pockets, and kept his eyes on his bruised knees.
Dylan finally pointed at me and said, “You, I guess.” Even though I won, I felt like a real leftover. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to try to step on me again. Having my own captain not want me there made me not want to try at all. I wish Sofie had been there. I know that it’s not really her fault for needing to babysit Viivi while her mom is working, but I was feeling pretty mad that she couldn’t be at school again. Why does she have to get punished just because of something Richard did? It’s not even really his fault either. I don’t even know who to be mad at. Sorry, I’m sorry. Anyways, the whole class went to the field outside. The ground was still wet from the storm last night. It even smelled like rain.
Do you ever know that something is going to be really bad even before it starts? Mary decided it was a good idea to pick up an earthworm and show it off to Dylan. I hated watching the pink guy wiggle and get scared like that. Mary used to think zoos were animal jails, and now she doesn’t care about anybody but Dylan and the new goldfish she won at a PTO fundraiser. It was one of the only times in my whole life that I didn’t mind the gym teacher blowing her whistle all loud like that. Mary threw the worm and put her hands behind her back. The gym teacher shouted “Cut the horseplay” and handed an orange plastic bat to the first kid.
Everybody on Team Dylan stood around watching the field like it was a big stage, and I ended up being second in line to bat. I never would have done that on purpose. The whole class seeing me try to hit the ball has always been one of my least favorite things about springtime. I was so nervous about my turn that I tried to find something to do with my hands. That didn’t work out so great because I accidentally pulled the drawstring of my navy blue shorts way too far. The string nearly came out completely, and I had to wiggle my fingers over the fabric to make it better.
That’s when Mary leaned in to Dylan’s ear to say, “Why are Ellie’s legs so hairy?” Of course I could hear her saying something bad about me with the wrong name. It was such a loud whisper. Dylan repeated her question even louder. It made me think of one time when the Sunday doctor asked me, “What are the other girls in your class doing?” when she was looking at my legs. Please don’t tell anyone this, but I kind of want my leg hair to stay forever. It’s easy to forget that, though, with Mary and Dylan laughing like that.
I kicked the closest dandelion and held my breath, and tried wishing for something so big that I couldn’t even think of anything. The white seeds traveled across the bases, toward the blacktop where they might not ever grow. My leg hair is long and soft and seemed to cover everywhere when I looked down. I tried to cover it all with my hands, but it wasn’t nearly enough. The gym teacher then shouted “Ellie, up” in a way that made even more people look at me. I dragged my feet over the dandelions on my walk to the field. Maybe it was cheating trying to get that many wishes at once.
I picked up the plastic bat. It felt empty on the inside. I hated holding it because it suddenly left my legs with nothing to cover them. I hated it so much that it was hard to breathe. I let the first two baseballs fly right past me. On the third try, I surprised myself and hit the ball. It landed in the grass a few feet away with a big plop.
I was the first kid in class to get a hit, but no one clapped for me. Everybody just stared some more. I accidentally threw the bat too far and then ran around like a penguin, keeping my arms straight to my sides. All I cared about was trying to cover my legs. That sure made it hard to play the game right, and I got out before I even made it to first base. The whole entire class watched me like they already knew it would happen, and less than first base was exactly what they were expecting.
I hope you’re reading this not thinking I’m a doofus or, even worse, a doofus with bad, hairy legs. Maybe I’ll fail gym class too. I went to the back of the batter line pretending like nothing ever happened. I am bad at pretending, though. I need to work on that too. I kept my hands tight over my knees and stared at the last white dandelion in sight. If it hadn’t been so far away, I would have wished that there would be no more running for the rest of the day.
Team Dylan did end up winning today’s baseball game, but it obviously wasn’t because of me. When we lined up to go back inside, Nathan Lucas surprised me by asking, “Was there any math homework due today?” It was our first conversation ever, and it will probably be our last. Dylan Beaman noticed us and said, “Don’t ask her. She doesn’t talk anymore.” I couldn’t say anything to that, of course. So I just shook my head, hopefully with the right answer. I bet Nathan Lucas doesn’t like me now because nobody said anything at all after that. I admit, I miss the old
Dylan. Maybe he was just trying to get another boy to join the Trampoline Club. I think he’s the only boy in it right now. I just wish he would ask me.
Can I be honest with you? I sometimes feel like I’m running out of places to go. I know Mr. B would probably say right now to forget about “Dance like nobody is watching.” Instead, we are supposed to “Dance like someone who loves you is watching.” I know for a fact that my mom would never hang a sign that said that in the living room.
If I could have a new wish right now, it would be for more people in my life who want to watch me no matter what. That would be kind of like having built-in teammates, the kind with matching shirts and knee scrapes. Good teammates would say something like “Your leg hairs are like a forest, but not the kind of forest to hide in.” If I become a teacher one day, I would make an inspirational poster that says something like that. I would hang it next to the water fountain, inside the bathroom stall, or other places people go to be by themselves. I know my parents think I should join the army when I grow up because I have a weird haircut and it’s a reliable job, but maybe I really could be a teacher. What do you think? My grades aren’t the best right now, but I still think it could be a good thing.
I have to say, I wouldn’t ever want to grow up to be a gym teacher, but I kind of wish that Mr. B was ours. He would never make us all run relays or fifty-meter dash competitions, and he definitely wouldn’t use a whistle either. Sometimes he even draws smiley faces next to the name Rowan on my school papers, even if he doesn’t call me that out loud.
