I shake my head. I know I’ve heard this before, but can’t remember the answer.
Tucker raises his arms. “Bean, I’ve asked you this one before.”
I bite my lip. “I know, but I can’t remember.”
“Athens. Athens, Greece.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, sitting tall on the bed. “I forgot.”
“Say it.”
“Huh?”
“Say it out loud so you’ll remember.”
“Athens, Greece,” I say.
“Athens, Greece, what?”
“Athens, Greece, is commonly referred to as the birthplace of democracy.”
“Good,” Tucker says, turning his computer to face me. “Now,” he says, flipping it on, “there’s this great website—mywonderfulworld.org. It will help. There are geography games and lots of cool facts.”
“I like cool facts.”
“Yes, you do,” Tucker says. “Especially when they’re cool geography facts. Right, Bean?”
I sneer. “Especially.”
“You love geography. Right, Bean?”
I shake my head, throw my arms in the air and shout, “I love geography!”
“Everything all right up there?” Mrs. Thomas calls.
I fall back onto the bed, my cheeks burning.
Tucker laughs. “Everything’s fine, Mom. Olivia’s having a fit because she loves studying so much.”
I kick Tucker; then we both laugh.
By the time I get home, I remember quite a few things. I remember that the birthplace of democracy is Athens, Greece. I remember the Great Lakes—Superior, Huron, Michigan, Erie and Ontario. And I remember that Tucker’s eyes are a really nice shade of blue, although I’m pretty sure that fact won’t help me on Jeopardy!
Dad …
I shove Phil into my suitcase, zip it and open the door to Charlie’s room.
Mom’s helping him pack. Actually, she’s standing with hands on hips over Charlie’s overflowing suitcase.
I clear my throat. “Get me from Tucker’s house when we’re ready to leave. Okay, Mom?”
She ignores me completely. “Charlie, you can’t bring that many Matchbox cars. Put some back.”
“What if I need them?”
“When will you need them?”
“Well—”
“Mom, I’m going to Tucker’s. Get me when we’re ready to leave.”
“Okay, Livi,” Mom says. “Charlie Bean, I’ll give you five minutes to choose your three favorite cars. Three. That’s it.”
I shake my head and run down the steps. My stomach’s doing somersaults by the time I’m at Tucker’s front door because I can’t believe I’ll be on a plane soon, heading to California. After I knock on the Thomases’ door—I remember not to ring the doorbell, which I assume they’ll never fix—Tucker opens the door and yanks me inside.
“Today’s Olivia’s big day,” Tucker tells his mom. “We need to study more before she goes.”
Mrs. Thomas puts down the newspaper she’s reading. I can’t help but think that Mom’s column with her photograph is not in that newspaper anymore. “Good luck, Olivia,” she says. “We’ll be rooting for you.”
“Thanks,” I say.
As Tucker and I race up the stairs, past his photographs, I think about how different things were only a couple months ago. How much Tucker and I couldn’t stand each other. How he didn’t want me to come up to his room to use his computer to take the Jeopardy! online test. And now he’s helping me study!
When we get inside his room and Rose is running like a maniac on her hamster wheel, I lean toward Tucker and kiss his cheek.
He reels back and trips over a pile of underwear. “Why’d you do that?” he asks, touching his cheek.
I shrug.
Tucker stares at me. “Well …”
“Well,” I say. “We’d better study fast because I’m flying to California soon.”
“Flying …,” Tucker says. “California.”
I smack him on the shoulder. “Come on, it was only a dumb kiss on the cheek.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m cool,” he says. “Let’s study.”
But I can tell he’s flustered because he messes up words while he quizzes me on countries and state capitals, and his cheeks flame crimson.
I miss the capital of North Dakota, which Tucker informs me is Bismarck. That’s when I hear a knock on Tucker’s front door. “Come on, Olivia. It’s time to go to the airport.”
Am I ready for this? It feels like all the blood drains from my face.
“Knock ’em dead,” Tucker says, and lightly punches my arm.
“Thanks,” I say, rubbing my arm as though he hurt me, but he didn’t.
“You’re ready,” Tucker says, punching a fist in the air. “You are so ready, Bean.”
“Am I?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tucker says, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek. “You’re going to kick butt on that show, Olivia!”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
Tucker grins. “Take that.”
I touch my palm to my cheek.
“Olivia!” Mom yells from downstairs. “Come on!”
“Coming!” I yell back, but I don’t budge. My heart’s beating a million times a minute. (I know it’s really beating about one hundred times per minute.) Does it feel fast because Tucker just kissed me or because I’m flying across the country to compete on Jeopardy!? I have a feeling it’s the latter.
Am I ready to compete on Jeopardy!?
Am I ready for the tough geography questions?
Am I ready to see Dad? And Stella and Nikki?
Just like in Jeopardy!, everything feels like it’s in the form of a question for me.
Do I know the answers?
You bet I do. Because no matter what Mom, Neil, Charlie and Tucker keep telling me …
I’M
NOT
READY!
Charlie loves the airplane.
When the flight attendant asks, “What would you like to drink, sir?” Charlie giggles and says, “Did you know an octopus will eat its own arms if it gets really hungry?”
Without missing a beat, the flight attendant replies, “Did you know sharks keep growing new teeth their whole lives?”
Charlie’s eyes widen. “Cool.”
The man nods. “I was a bit of a trivia geek growing up, especially when it came to sharks. In fact, I have about a dozen sharks’ teeth I’ve found on different beaches, and I always keep one in my pocket. I think it’s lucky. Now, what would you like to drink, little man?”
“Ginger ale … with a side of shark’s tooth.” Charlie giggles and kicks his feet, which prompts the man in front of him to look back over his seat and glare.
“You got it,” the flight attendant says, giving Charlie a high five and ignoring the glaring passenger.
I order water with no ice because I read somewhere that there’s more bacteria in airplane ice than in a toilet.
The flight is long—four and a half hours—but it goes fast because of the screen embedded in the seat in front of me. Charlie uses his to watch TV, but I discover an in-flight quiz full of trivia questions. Perfect!
I type in my screen name—“Brainy Bean”—and play against other passengers. Some people join the game and others drop out, but I play the entire time—it’s excellent practice—except when the pilot talks and the game freezes. Guess what? I win every time. Me—Brainy Bean—against the grown-ups!
When the quiz finally goes off because we are beginning our descent into the Los Angeles airport, I lean back, nervous about what to expect on Jeopardy! Nervous about my geography knowledge, or lack thereof. (Tucker would be disappointed to know I got a couple geography questions wrong on the in-flight quiz.) But mostly, I’m nervous about seeing Dad and Stella and Nikki. What if I do something to annoy Dad right away, like I do sometimes on the phone with him?
On the other hand, what if Dad takes one look at me, Charlie and Mom and realizes he’s made a gargantuan mista
ke by leaving us? What if he decides to ditch Stella and come home?
I glance at Neil. His beard is neatly trimmed and he just got a haircut. He’s holding Mom’s hand and closing his eyes as the plane descends. What would happen to Neil if Dad decided to come home?
I’m completely lost in my thoughts when the plane bumps onto the ground and whooshes along the runway, pressing me back into my seat.
As we’re getting off, or “deplaning,” as they call it, the flight attendant gives Charlie a shark’s tooth from his pocket. “Remember, this is lucky,” he tells Charlie.
“Thanks,” Charlie says, squeezing the tooth in his fist. Then he looks off to the side, as though he’s thinking about something.
While we walk down the corridor toward baggage claim, Charlie presses the shark’s tooth into my palm. “It’s lucky, Livi.”
What’s really cool is that when we go down the escalator toward baggage claim, a man in a suit and black cap holds a small white board. On the board, it says:
Who is Olivia Bean?
My name. And they put it in the form of a Jeopardy! question.
Mom grabs my hand, and I feel like I’m going to burst from nervousness and excitement and happiness all fighting it out inside my stomach.
The man with the cap helps us get our luggage from the baggage carousel and takes us out to a van that says “Music Express” on the side. The seats are plush purple and really comfortable.
As he drives us toward our hotel, Charlie points out the window and shouts, “Palm trees!”
“Palm trees,” Mom says, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes.
When the driver stops and gets our luggage out, he says, “There will be instructions for you at the desk when you check in, but today is yours to relax and get acclimated.”
Neil slips some money into the man’s hand, and we go in.
In our hotel room, there are two big beds.
“I’ll bunk with Charlie,” Neil says, putting a suitcase on the far bed.
“And I’ll sleep with Livi,” Mom says, squeezing my shoulders.
In the bathroom, there are tiny soaps and tiny shampoo and conditioner bottles. The towels are bright white and thick, unlike our thin, worn ones at home. I can’t believe Jeopardy! is paying for all this for the four of us just because I did well on a few tests and an audition. They even gave us extra spending money, to have fun in California when we’re not busy with the show.
While I’m in the bathroom, I remember overhearing Mom on the phone a couple weeks ago. It wasn’t hard to figure out who she was talking to.
Mom said, “We need to get Livi new clothes and—” There was a pause. And then she said, “I just thought you could help—” Another pause. Then Mom’s voice got louder so it was easier to hear. “She’s your daughter too, you know.”
Thinking about Mom’s argument with Dad squeezes my stomach into a knot, and I stay in the bathroom until Mom knocks on the door. “You okay in there, Livi?”
“Be right out,” I call as I clutch my middle.
“Good,” she says. “We’re meeting your father downstairs in ten minutes.”
The knot in my stomach gets much, much tighter.
I slip into the new dress Mom bought me and brush my hair and teeth two times each.
When Mom keeps fussing over Charlie’s hair, Neil takes her hands and looks in her eyes. “It’ll be okay, Marion.”
Mom nods.
We go downstairs to the hotel’s restaurant.
Charlie’s talking a million miles a minute, spouting trivia and asking questions. Mom shushes him and holds his hand and mine.
While we’re waiting, people go into the restaurant and come out. They look happy.
We’re quiet. Mom is holding my hand a little too tightly. From the look on Charlie’s face, she’s doing the same to his.
Dad appears through the doorway, and it takes my breath away. He’s grown a beard, like Neil’s, but Dad’s is scraggly. He strides toward us, wearing cowboy boots and a tight black T-shirt tucked into jeans.
Mom gives my hand an extra-hard squeeze, but it makes me feel better. It reminds me she’s here. Neil’s here. Charlie’s here.
Stella and Nikki, it seems, are not.
I let out a big breath and finally pay attention to Charlie. He’s standing like Pinocchio. He’s rigid and his eyes are wide. He’s looking at Dad as though he’s seeing a stranger. I want to grab Charlie and hug him so he won’t be scared, but I don’t move.
“You grew a beard,” Mom says.
Dad strokes the hairs on his chin. “I figured if I was losing it on top, I’d better grow it down here.” He laughs, but no one else does. “Yeah, Stella keeps nagging me to shave it off, but …”
Charlie pops out with, “A human being loses between forty and one hundred hairs a day.”
Now everyone laughs. Nervous laughter, but it feels good, like pressure had been building and Charlie figured out how to open a release valve.
“He’s a Bean, all right,” Dad says, and scoops Charlie up for a tight hug.
Charlie’s eyes grow wide.
What about me? I’m here too.
Dad puts Charlie down and shakes Neil’s hand. “Neil.”
Neil says, “Bill.”
Hello? You haven’t even spoken to me yet.
“Marion.” Dad nods at Mom.
Mom nods back, then turns away.
Maybe I’m invisible.
Suddenly, Dad whirls around and kneels in front of me. “And how’s my Butter Bean?” He grabs me in a squeeze, then pulls back to look at me. “You ready for Jeopardy!?”
There in Dad’s arms, just like old times, I feel ready for anything.
The question flies from my mouth as though it’s a casual thought. It’s not. “Where’s Nikki?”
Dad waves off the question like it’s completely inconsequential. It’s not. “Nikki had a …” Dad runs a hand through his hair. “She had something to do with Stella. That’s all. Nothing to worry about, Butter Bean.”
I’m not worried. I just figured that if I flew all the way across the country, she could at least come out and meet me for dinner.
Dad tousles my hair, like I’m five years old, and it annoys me.
“So, shall we get a seat?” Dad asks, rubbing his hands together.
“I was really hoping to see her,” I say, not willing to let this drop.
Dad signals the hostess with a raised arm. As she walks over, he pulls his cell out of his pocket and hands it to me. “Call her. I’m sure she’d like to talk to you.”
I’m sure she wouldn’t.
With the weight of Dad’s phone in my hand, I reconsider. Nikki obviously hates me. “That’s okay,” I say, trying to give the phone back. “We’re going to be eating now, anyway.”
Dad waves me off. “Go right out there, Butter Bean, and call her. It’s about time you two started talking again.”
I look at Mom.
She nods, so I go outside the restaurant. People are milling around, and I’m not comfortable having this conversation in such a public place. I find a bench and hunch over as I press the numbers.
When Nikki answers, I suck in my breath so hard I almost choke.
“Hello?” Nikki says. “Bill, is this you? You okay?” I think I hear her mutter, “Moron.”
It doesn’t sound like something Nikki would say, but it’s definitely her voice.
After one good cough, I can speak. “It’s me,” I say.
I’m greeted by dead silence.
“Hello? Nikki?”
Nothing.
“Please say something. I came all the way to California and—”
“What do you want me to say, Olivia?” Nikki snaps. “That I’m so glad you’re here? That I hope we can be best friends again?”
I kind of do hope she’ll say those things and we can go back to the way we were.
“Well, that’s not going to happen.”
Sucker punch to the gut. I lean over even
more, feeling like passersby can hear the mean thing Nikki just said. “Why?” is the only word I can push past my tight throat.
“Why?” she says and laughs, but it’s a mean laugh, one that says I’m too stupid to understand. Even though Nikki and I are the same age, she seems so much older now.
“Olivia, get a clue. Don’t you realize your dad took me away from everything?”
I think about this. “He took you away from me and—”
“Everything.”
I’m confused. Nikki didn’t seem to love school that much. I take a deep breath and hope I don’t start crying right here outside the restaurant. “What everything?” I ask, sounding like an idiot.
“Olivia,” she says, in this barely controlled voice. “Let me tell you how life is here. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, not wanting to hear. Wanting to hang up and join my family for dinner and forget I ever called. But I don’t. I sit, trembling, and listen to my former best friend tear my heart out.
“Eighteen times this school year, Stella forgot to pick me up after school. Eighteen times! And we live like two miles from the school, which is a really long walk. But no way I’m going on the bus with all those druggies.”
I swallow hard. Where do they live? “Oh,” I say, remembering a couple times that Nikki’s mom forgot to pick us up when we were at the mall, and my mom had to get us.
Nikki continues. “When I fell down the steps running to Spanish class last month, the nurse couldn’t reach Stella. Of course she couldn’t reach her. She was getting a massage at some fancy place with your dad and had her phone turned off.”
“Oh,” I say again, in a small voice. I remember when Nikki and I were racing down our block and Nikki fell and cut a hole right through the knee of her jeans and was bleeding like crazy. I helped her walk home, but her mom wasn’t there. Back at our house, my mom cleaned her knee, put on a bandage and found her a pair of jeans to wear.
Even though I want to press my palms against my ears so that I don’t have to hear another word, Nikki, apparently, isn’t finished. “Did you know that right after we moved here, your dad and Stella decided to go on a little honeymoon in Vegas for four days and left me here alone? I was ten!”
Olivia Bean, Trivia Queen Page 13
