What Are You Hiding, Tory? (9781771275347)

by Ann Apel, Melanie

  Back Cover

  Tween Health Friendship Fiction by Melanie Ann Apel

  Tory is an average sixth grader—with a big secret. Tory and her best friend Kelly are starting a new school year full of exciting adventures…Tory is going to be allowed to babysit, there’s a school dance coming up and there are some really cute boys in the sixth grade class! It’s going to be a great year! But something is on Tory’s mind. On the first day of school, Tory’s teacher asks the students to introduce themselves and tell one thing about themselves to the rest of the class. Tory doesn’t know what to say, because the only thing that comes to Tory’s mind is the one thing she wants to keep to herself. Tory tries hard to keep her secret but a chain of events including a slumber party and a hospital stay make this impossible.

  Eleven-year-old Tory has a life-threatening illness called cystic fibrosis.

  When a classmate of Tory’s exposes her secret at the Halloween slumber party, Tory and her friends learn about real friendship when the rest of the sixth grade doesn’t treat her differently after all, and the cute boy who asked her to the winter dance still wants to be her date, despite seeing the reality of cystic fibrosis as Tory endures a coughing spell right in front of him. What Are You Hiding, Tory? is a story about a girl with a secret who learns that the real secret is that she is really just like everyone else.

  What Are You Hiding, Tory?

  by Melanie Ann Apel

  Published by MuseItUp Publishing at Smashwords

  ISBN: 978-1-77127-534-7

  Copyright 2014 Melanie Ann Apel

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  To my boys, Hayden Seth and Alec Noah,

  who wouldn’t be here if not for CF, really.

  I love you more than the world.

  For Kelly Dimopoulos and Jill Weinstein,

  the real Kelly and Liza.

  In memory of Troy Morrison.

  And, of course, for Alex.

  Acknowledgements

  Carolyn Crimi, this is the one I started in your class. Thank you for launching me.

  With most gracious thanks to my agent, Tina P. Schwartz and The Purcell Agency. You believed in Tory…and you believe in me. And so, at last, here we are. You are the best!

  Chapter One

  “Tory…Tory!” Mom’s voice reached me from the kitchen. I was already on the front porch strapping on my scooter helmet.

  “Tory!” she yelled again.

  “What, Mom?” I called back through the screen door.

  “Did you finish your breakfast?”

  “Yes!” I yelled, not happily.

  “All of it?” Mom’s voice was closer, just inside the door.

  “Yes, Mom, all of it. Even the gross egg yolk!” I love fried eggs, but just the egg white part. The yolk is so slimy. It makes me gag.

  “Okay. Good.” Mom opened the screen door and held out a brown paper bag. “You forgot your lunch.”

  I sighed, and then stood up on my scooter balancing with one foot until I could get moving. “What is it?”

  “PB and J,” Mom told me, “your favorite. Now turn around.”

  Mom doesn’t know that sixth graders are too old to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by telling her it wasn’t my favorite anymore, so I just turned around and let her stuff the lunch bag into my new fish backpack. It’s not shaped like a fish or anything, but it has these awesome looking fish all over it. I just got it for school. My best friend Kelly got the same one when we went shopping last week. Since we’re both in sixth grade this year, our moms decided we were finally old enough to go some places by ourselves. Luckily, one of those places is the mall!

  “Your pills are in your lunch bag. Have a good first day of school.” Mom kissed me on the forehead, and I took off down my street to meet Kelly on her corner. I’m glad Mom thought I was old enough to go to school without her now. Imagine being the only sixth grader whose mother walked her to school! I’d be too embarrassed even to show up. Lucky for me Mom was pretty cool about stuff like that.

  But why does Mom always have to remind me about eating? And those stupid pills? I hate them. Nobody else at school takes any type of medicine when they eat. Thank goodness we get to go to the bathroom before lunch. I always take my pills in there, where nobody except Kelly can see me. The only people at school who know my secret are Kelly and my teachers, and I plan to keep it that way.

  Kelly was waiting for me right at the corner as we’d planned. She was scootering up and down the little thing at the curb that is made for wheelchairs. Like a ramp. From the distance, I could see Kelly’s outfit and her new scooter helmet. Both are exactly like mine, except different colors. The skirt was the kind that’s only a skirt in the front. Underneath it’s shorts. My skirt was blue, and hers was purple as usual. Purple is Kelly’s favorite color. Our shirts were identical, purple and blue stripes with the words “Here Comes Trouble” printed across the front. We got them at the mall last week, too. We giggled about how they would be fun to wear on the first day of school. After all, we want to make sure everyone knows we aren’t fifth graders anymore.

  “Hey!” Kelly called as I got closer.

  “Hey.” I stopped right in front of her.

  “What took you so long? I’ve been here for ten minutes!” Kelly made a big show of looking at the glittery, purple watch she got on her family vacation last month, as if to prove she actually had been waiting ten minutes.

  “My mom,” I explained. “She made my lunch, and wanted to make sure I’d eaten all my breakfast.” Kelly rolled her eyes. I can tell Kelly the truth about stuff. She already knows everything there is to know about me. We’ve been best friends since we were three years old.

  “Well, my mom made my lunch, too. But I’m going to work on convincing her to let me buy lunch in the school cafeteria this year,” Kelly said. “Wanna race?”

  Before I could even answer, Kelly took off. So I followed her.

  We raced the five blocks to Keller Elementary School, with the wheels of our scooters humming over the pavement and bumping over the cracks. When we got there, we were both out of breath and plopped down on the curb in front of the main entrance to take off our helmets and fix our hair. Right away it started. I could feel it coming the moment I sat down. The coughing.

  Chapter Two

  The coughing came on hard, and I knew my face was turning red. It usually does. Kelly glanced over at me, but she didn’t ask if I was okay. I was grateful she didn’t make a fuss, because that would have made me even more self-conscious. Kelly’s seen me cough so many times she knew I would be okay as soon as I stopped.

  When I caught my breath, I looked at Kelly. “I hate when that happens in front of everyone,” I whispered.

  “I know,” she said.

  “Was anybody watching?” Kelly would tell me the truth.

  “Nah, I didn’t see anyone looking at you. Everyone’s too excited about the first day of school to pay any attention to us.”

  After a minute, she said, “I guess racing to school wasn’t such a great idea. Sorry, Tory.”

  “Hey, that’s okay.” I shook my head. “I’m all right now.”

  We sat there for a few minutes while more kids
filled up the sidewalk in front of our school.

  “Look,” Kelly said, “there’s Jake McMahon. He’s looks sooo cute.”

  “As usual!” We both said together and started to laugh.

  “Jinx!” Kelly said.

  One thing I like about her is that she’s always thinking the same thing I’m thinking.

  “Cool T-shirts!” Jake yelled. Kelly and I looked at each other. Wow, Jake never talks to anyone except the most popular kids in our class.

  “Thanks!” we yelled back.

  Other kids from our class came by. Shayna Gutmann, who spends every summer in Israel with her grandparents, had a great tan. Isabella McCarthy waved at us as she walked by with her best friend, Sara Carson. They are the prettiest and most popular girls in our class. Isabella’s nice to me because we’ve known each other since kindergarten. And our parents are friends. Sara isn’t so friendly. Diana Douglas walked by but didn’t say “hi” or wave or anything. She’s the tallest girl in our class. She’s super shy. She was the new kid last year in fifth grade.

  Then the guys showed up. There are four of them, and they have been friends since we were all in kindergarten. All of them are on our school’s baseball team: Potter Murphy, Jimmy Cullin, Ryan Polonsky, and Scott Ross. They’re all super cute, especially Potter, who has straight brown hair that he wears all one length below his ears. Potter also has clean fingernails, which I like, because dirty fingernails are totally gross. You never know what that junk might be. I noticed Potter’s nails last year, because we sat at the same desk cluster.

  Before the guys came near enough for us to say hello, the bell rang. Kelly and I gathered up our scooters, helmets, and backpacks. Kelly and I got in line with the rest of the kids. Over the summer everyone had gotten a letter from the principal telling us what room we would be in this year. Kelly and I were headed for room 304 and as soon as we got there, we grabbed two desks together at the front.

  Chapter Three

  “Good morning, boys and girls,” our new teacher said. She wrote her name on the blackboard. “My name is Mrs. Jason.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Jason,” the entire class said at the same time.

  She smiled. “Welcome back to school and to sixth grade. I have an exciting year planned for us.”

  Someone groaned in the back of the classroom, but I didn’t turn around to see who it was. Mrs. Jason pretended not to hear the groan at all.

  “There are a few new students in our class. And a few faces I don’t recognize. I would like you each to stand up and tell us your name and one interesting thing about yourself.”

  I heard the groan from the back of the room again. Only this time it was louder. Mrs. Jason ignored it again.

  One interesting thing. About me. I could only think of one thing, and I was not going to tell it.

  “I’ll go first,” our teacher said. “My name is Laurel Jason. In June I had a baby boy named Chad Dane. He’s almost four months old now.”

  Kelly was sitting in the front desk, in the first row, so she was next. I was so glad I had taken a desk in the second row. What was I going to say about myself?

  Kelly stood up and said, “My name is Kelly Conrad and I…I spent a week at a cabin on the beach this summer with my family. And I got this cool watch,” she said, holding up her arm, from which several bracelets dangled along with her watch. The groaner from the back of the classroom snickered.

  Shayna Gutmann was sitting in the desk behind Kelly. She stood up, gave her name, and said, “I spent the summer in Israel with my grandparents.”

  Tell us something we don’t know. I looked over at Kelly. The goofy look she gave me told me she was thinking the same thing. I didn’t hear what anyone else in Kelly’s row said. I was trying hard to think of something to say about myself. The only thing I could think of was, “My name is Tory, and I have cystic fibrosis,” but there was no way I was going to say that. No way! Kelly kicked my leg under the desk. I looked at her. It was my turn! I stood up very slowly.

  “I’m Victoria Richards, but I like to be called Tory. I...” I still didn’t know what to say. “I...” Maybe I would just sit down. I glanced at Kelly for just a moment. She couldn’t know what I was thinking, but her eyes were encouraging me to say something!

  Quick, think of something.

  “I got a new scooter last week,” I said and sat down fast. Kelly raised the left side of her top lip at me. I just shrugged, but I could tell by the hot feeling in my cheeks that my face was really red. I was so busy thinking about the dumb thing I said that I didn’t hear what any of the other kids in my class said about themselves.

  What if I had told them what I was actually thinking? What if I told them I had cystic fibrosis and I have to take pills when I eat and do breathing therapy at home twice a day to keep me from coughing all day long, and go into the hospital sometimes? They might think I was weird or something. They might think they could catch it from me and get sick just from being around me. What if they didn’t believe me if I told them you can’t catch it? Even if I explained I was born with it.

  Chapter Four

  At noon, Kelly and I went to our new locker to grab our lunch bags. We’ve shared a locker every year since first grade. We headed for the bathroom. I was relieved I didn’t have to remind Kelly about that. In the bathroom, I fished around the bottom of my bag for the little packet of pills. Mom always puts them in there because that way she thinks I won’t forget to take them. She’s right. Kelly turned on the cold-water faucet. I stuck all five pills on the back of my tongue and leaned close into the sink. I gulped down two big handfuls of water. Kelly pulled out a scratchy, brown paper towel for me to dry my face and hands on. As I tossed the crumbled towel into the trash can, Zoe Warner, another girl from our class, came into the girls’ room.

  “Hi, Tory, hey, Kelly. What are you guys doing?”

  I panicked for a minute.

  Kelly was quick to answer, “Going pee before lunch, same as you. Duh!”

  “Oh, yeah.” Zoe giggled. “Well, can I eat with you guys?”

  “Sure,” I answered quickly, “Meet us in the cafeteria.”

  * * * *

  After lunch, Mrs. Jason had an announcement.

  “The kindergarten teacher, Miss Denny, has asked for two volunteers to help her out. She would like two sixth graders to come to her classroom every day during morning recess and watch the kids while she takes her fifteen-minute break. This is a commitment for the whole year.” Mrs. Jason looked at all of us for a moment before she asked, “Do I have any volunteers?”

  Kelly and I exchanged a quick look and then our hands shot up immediately. I even waved my hand around a little and wiggled my fingers so Mrs. Jason would know that I was serious about wanting to volunteer. In fact, I’ve wanted to do this forever. When I was in Miss Denny’s kindergarten, two sixth graders named Nada and Jaime took care of us during recess. Since then, I’ve known that when I got to sixth grade I just had to be a kindergarten helper like them. My left hand, the one that was not up in the air, was in my lap with my fingers crossed hard.

  Mrs. Jason sure was taking her time! What if she picked Kelly but not me? Kelly and I had been talking about this job for a year. She had promised she would be a kindergarten helper with me, but it was my idea. I took a quick look around the room to see if anyone else had their hand up. Zoe Warner’s hand was wiggling a little bit, but not as much as mine was. But I was especially horrified to see that Sara and Isabella had their hands up, too. They would be terrible with the kindergarteners! They were so snotty. I don’t even think they like kids. They probably just wanted to be kindergarten helpers because they thought it would make them seem cool. Put your hands down.

  A few other kids had their hands in the air too, but nobody was stretching their arm up quite as high as mine or Kelly’s. Please, please pick me! I closed my eyes and held my breath while Mrs. Jason decided. I guess she could tell by my face and the way I was wiggling around in my seat that I really wanted
to be the kindergarten helper because Mrs. Jason finally said, “Tory Richards and Kelly Conrad, tomorrow morning at ten-twenty will you please go down to Miss Denny’s classroom?”

  “Yes!” I nearly shouted. From the desk behind me, I heard Zoe mumble something about her little brother being in the kindergarten, but I didn’t care. I was going to be a kindergarten helper!

  Chapter Five

  The next morning I was so excited about my first day as a kindergarten helper. I was awake and out of bed very early. It was a little after six in the morning, and the sun was still coming up. I tiptoed downstairs and decided to make my own breakfast so I wouldn’t have to eat slimy egg yolks two days in a row. I took down the box of chocolate flakes and poured myself a big bowl. Usually Mom only lets us eat fun cereal on the weekend. She insists we have a nutritious breakfast on school days. When I thought about that, I sliced a banana over my cereal and poured a glass of orange juice.

  Mom must have gone to my room and found me missing because, at seven, she came into the kitchen wearing her robe and slippers. Mom’s hair was wet from taking a shower, so it looked much darker than her normal shade of blonde.

  “You’re up pretty early this morning,” she said.

  “I guess I’m pretty excited,” I told her between bites of toast. I had already rinsed my cereal bowl and left it in the dishwasher. The cereal box was back in the cabinet. I was at the table with my second glass of orange juice and notes for the science test I was sure I would ace later that day. “Kelly and I get to start volunteering as kindergarten helpers this morning.”