by Beth Vrabel
“August does, too,” Rex says.
Lilith turns on the player, to a song about a yellow submarine. She sings along, and it’s probably just the sunlight, but for a moment the room seems to glow yellow.
“Hey,” Ally says, moving away from the wall toward August. Her cheeks are two red splotches on her face. “His mouth is moving!” She swallows. “I mean, are you singing along, August?”
Rex nods. “Like I said, he can’t talk. But he likes music. He remembers lyrics.”
Ally smiles, her eyes on August’s face. Her smile is shaky, like she doesn’t know if she’s doing the right thing. Rex looks away, but then Ally says, “I don’t sing out loud, either. My name’s Ally, by the way.”
A soft noise rumbles out of August. His hand jerks outward toward Ally. She reaches for it instead of stepping away, taking his arm and standing closer to him. “I’m happy to meet you, August.”
There aren’t any more places to sit in the room, now that Ally is in the chair next to August, and Wes and Rex are both sitting on the bed. Lilith is perched on the counter under the window, next to the record player. So Jason sinks to the ground and pulls out his sketchbook. “Do you mind if I draw you guys?”
Wes shows Rex a picture on his phone of Hubert and Grace hugging in the stairway. “True love.”
Rex shrugs. “I’m not convinced, Wes.”
“Not yet, anyway.” Wes smiles, the dimple on his cheek flashing. “And you can call me Ding. I kinda like it.”
“Oh, goodness!” Mrs. Mitchell says after a few minutes. “The residents are waiting for a skit! I forgot!”
The five of them look at each other. Lilith clears her throat and shifts to smooth her dress. “Mrs. Mitchell, would you consider a talent show, instead? Ally—maybe you could show them how you juggle that ball? And Jason, you could sketch someone?”
Wes blinks at Lilith. “You don’t want to sing?”
She shakes her head, staring down at her bare feet for a second. “I don’t really feel up to it. But I have my makeup in my bag. Do you think Agnes would like a makeover or something? You know, she could use a little excitement.”
Mrs. Mitchell smiles at them all. “It’s been a long day. Why don’t we all just go and say our good-byes instead?”
Something rumbles through Rex. Regret, maybe. Why has she introduced them to August? What will they say about him—about her—on Monday? Why did she trust them when they all know they’ll only be together this one day?
“Okay,” Ally says. “Until next week, anyway.”
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Mitchell squeaks, her eyes wide.
“Oh, yeah!” Wes says. “We have to do a prom thing next Saturday! For Judith!”
“What?”
“And maybe we can have our meetings here, you know, for the club?” Jason says.
“The club?” Mrs. Mitchell’s voice is high but not sweet. It sounds more like she’s panicking.
“Yeah,” Jason says and smiles at the others. “The Reckless Club. I’m the president.”
“We could meet here, in August’s room.” Rex’s voice goes small again.
“Thursday nights?” Ally says. “Practice lets out pretty early on Thursdays.”
“Sure.” Lilith nods.
Rex rubs at the sudden heat around her eyes.
Mr. Hardy laughs. “I guess you win, Trish. You were right. They never want to leave.”
Rex smiles, then leans forward and tucks the blanket around August so it’s snug along his sides. “So, I’m going to go, August, but first, I have some news.” She glances toward the doorway where Mr. Hardy and Mrs. Mitchell still watch them. “You know how I was worried about where I’m going to live? I think I have a solution.”
Wes shifts. “You do?”
Rex nods but doesn’t look away from her brother. “Mr. Hardy says he and his wife—remember, August, you met her last week when they visited?—well, they applied for something called kinship care. It means they can be my foster…” She gulps. “They can take care of me, if Grandma goes back to Florida.”
Wes whispers, “That’s awesome.” Ally covers her smile with her hands as Lilith turns up the music with a whoop. Jason grins across the room at Rex. Only August doesn’t seem to react, his face staying slack. But then his hand contracts, shifting toward Rex. She leans forward, resting her cheek against his palm.
“Oh, Jeff,” Mrs. Mitchell says in the doorway and wraps her arms around her brother. “You’re a good man.”
Mr. Hardy shrugs. “It doesn’t mean, Rex, that you don’t still owe me detention.”
Even August’s smile stretches as the room fills with laughter.
Rex’s voice shakes. “I think I’m going to be okay, August.”
Dear Northbrook High School teachers and administrators:
You want us to apologize.
Fine, we’re sorry.
Sorry that you think so little of us. Sorry that you think you have all the answers. Sorry that you think this—giving up the freedom of the last perfect summer day before we shoulder the burden of your expectations and the bruising of our dreams to walk the halls of Northbrook High School as freshman—is a worthy punishment for our crimes. Sorry that you think being here was a punishment at all.
You want us to tell you what we’ve learned today. But maybe you’re the ones who need a lesson.
You see a Nobody, a Drama Queen, a Flirt, an Athlete, and a Rebel when you look at us. But after today, we just see each other. And we’re going to change things, make them better, starting now.
Sincerely,
The Reckless Club
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This past year has been a whirlwind, filled with new books, new friends, new experiences, and new challenges I never could’ve anticipated and never would’ve enjoyed without the support and comfort of family and friends. Thank you.
Much love and gratitude to superagent and incredible human Nicole Resciniti for being a pillar of strength, encouragement, and wisdom. I love you, Nic!
Thank you also my phenomenal editor Julie Matysik. What a tremendous joy it is to work with and know you! I’m grateful for your expertise, coaching, and friendship (and sweet baby pictures).
Many thanks to the entire Running Press team, including publisher Kristin Kiser, marketing director Jessica Schmidt, children’s publicist and marketing manager Valerie Howlett, marketing manager Geri DiTella, creative director Frances Soo Ping Chow, copy editor Susan Hom, and project manager Julia Campbell. It’s an honor and privilege to be part of the RPK team.
Much gratitude also for Nia Kingsley for her tremendously valuable insight, adding to my understanding of what Lilith would experience as an Indian American and an actress. Thank you also to Shikha Patrick, who also shared her perspective. I’m so grateful.
I’m also grateful to my critique partners. Thank you Susan Haller Jennings, Lynn Rush, and Emma Vrabel for your spot-on feedback, especially when it’s not what I want to hear. I’m blessed to have such talented friends.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
If you (or someone you know) is feeling self-destructive, help is available. You are not alone. You are loved. You are needed. You are precious. Please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.
If you’re being bullied or witness someone else being affected by it, please talk with an adult you trust. If that adult doesn’t listen, find someone else. Keep talking, be loud, and get help.
Praise for
BETH VRABEL
“Vrabel takes three knotty, seemingly disparate problems—bullying, the plight of wolves, and coping with disability—and with tact and grace knits them into an engrossing whole of despair and redemption.”
—Kirkus Reviews, starred review
“Vrabel displays a canny understanding of middle-school vulnerability.”
—Booklist
“[Vrabel’s] challenging subject matter is handled in a gentle, age-appropriate way with humor and genuine affection.”
&
nbsp; —School Library Journal
“Beth Vrabel weaves an authentic, emotional journey that makes her a standout among debut authors.”
—Kerry O’Malley Cerra, author of Just a Drop of Water
“Vrabel tackles some tough issues, including albinism, depression, and loneliness, with a compassionate perspective and a charming voice.”
—Amanda Flower, author of Agatha Award-nominated Andi Boggs series
“Beth Vrabel’s stellar writing captivates readers from the start as she weaves a powerful story of friendship and hardship.”
—Buffy Andrews, author of The Lion Awakens and Freaky Frank
“Beth Vrabel doesn’t shy away from the tough stuff that can complicate the lives of tweens.”
—Melissa Hart, author of Avenging the Owl
Also available from
BETH VRABEL AND RUNNING PRESS KIDS
Twelve-year-old Caleb is shorter, frailer, and more protected than most kids his age. That’s because he has cystic fibrosis, a diagnosis meaning lungs that fill with mucus and a shortened lifespan. Caleb tries not to let his disorder define him, but it can be hard with an overprotective, prying mom and a big brother who is perfect in every way.
Then Caleb meets Kit and his world changes instantly. Kit reads Caleb’s palm and tells him they are destined to become friends. She has a magical presence about her, calling birds down from the sky and turning every day into an enchanted adventure. Her magic is contagious, making Caleb question the rules and order in his life. But being Kit’s friend means embracing deception and danger. Soon Caleb will have to decide if his friendship with Kit is really what’s best for him—or her.
Available wherever books are sold!
