“Get on this ride or go back down the stairs. You can’t stand here. It’s against the rules.”
I take a step toward the stairs. I don’t want to push past all the wet people, rubbing skin to wet skin.
“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” the woman says. “We went on it earlier.”
“It’s not that scary,” says the girl with pigtails.
I step into the water and lower myself into 1 of the seats. I stand up. I sit. I stand up.
“Come on!” the guy yells.
I sit for the 3rd time, and the stupid jerk probably thinks it’s because he yelled.
I don’t want to hold the plastic handles. But when he pushes us into the dark tunnel, I grab on and close my eyes.
The ride is fast and kind of fun. I get water up my nose. And I scream louder than I ever have in my life. I imagine that the loops and twists are perfectly calculated equations. I’m riding math. As I step out at the bottom of the ride, I dunk my hands into the ankle-high water, hoping to clean off the germs.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” the woman asks.
“It was kind of awesome,” I admit.
She waves good-bye, and I look around for my buddy and the truddy group. They’re gone.
I walk the outside loop of the water park, looking for the other girls. I bump into Jasmine and her buddy.
“Have you seen Jennifer or Windy?” I ask.
“Nope.” They don’t even stop.
I decide to go back to the chairs and catch up with them there.
“Hey, Lucy,” Ms. Sitton says, looking up from her magazine. “Are you checking in?”
“I guess.”
“Where’s your buddy?”
“I don’t know.”
Her lips squeeze into a tight single line. She looks over at Maddie’s mom.
“You were supposed to stay together,” Mrs. Thornton says. “We explained that. Clearly.”
“Sorry. It wasn’t my fault. We got separated and—”
“Who was your buddy?” she asks.
“Jennifer.”
Ms. Sitton sits up. “Her mother said she’s not a very strong swimmer. I hope she’s all right.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find her. You wait here in case she comes back.” Mrs. Thornton stands and pulls on a cover-up.
“She’s probably with Windy and Daniela and Maddie,” I say, but Mrs. Thornton is already gone.
“This place makes me so nervous,” Ms. Sitton says. I guess she’s talking to me, since I’m the only 1 left. She looks out at the giant wave pool at the end of the room.
I wrap my towel around my waist and sit, stand, sit, stand, sit on the end of a chair. It feels like forever before Maddie’s mom comes back with Jennifer and the truddy group.
“Where did you go?” Jennifer asks like I was her missing 2-year-old. “We couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“You never came down the ride,” Windy says.
I don’t bother to explain.
Ms. Sitton shakes her head. “I’m glad everyone is all right.” Then she goes over all the rules again and insists that we sit down for 10 minutes and think about it. We are in middle school, and she’s putting us in a time-out.
“Mom, you’re embarrassing me,” Windy says. Her cheeks are blotchy and red.
“I don’t care.”
I feel Jennifer’s eyes trying to burn me. I want to tell her that she can’t kill me by staring. Instead, I focus on my water shoes.
* * *
We don’t eat dinner until 8:30. Even with 3 bathrooms in our suite, it takes the group a long time to get ready. (97 minutes from the time we walk into the room—dripping and smelling like chlorine—until the time we walk back out in our nice clothes.) Everyone except Jennifer and me are wearing skirts or dresses. But Jennifer is still stylish in pants that look like purple leather and a shirt that hangs off 1 shoulder.
I wear a teal-and-pink-striped shirt (like the colors of 107 and 42) and dark jeans. I consider this my lucky shirt because it has a prime number of stripes: 17. It’s harder than you’d think to find clothes with prime numbers in them.
After dinner, we go upstairs to the suite for Windy to open presents. I regret making my gift. Who does that? I should have bought the tie-dye kit.
Windy carefully unwraps my box. A smile spreads across her face as she reads the title of the book I made. 101 Other Things You Never Knew About Your Best Friend. It’s the sequel to the 1 we filled out at her house when I 1st spent the night. It took me 30 hours, 50 sheets of paper, 2 yards of ribbon for the binding, a pack of 12 markers, 100 stickers, and 1 ruler. And it wasn’t easy. The original had the obvious questions, like what’s your middle name, your favorite color, most embarrassing moment. My book asks what’s your favorite prime number. If you discovered a planet, what would you name it? How many letters are in your whole name?
“That’s cute,” Maddie says when Windy holds it up. “We should totally fill it in.”
Windy says thank you to everyone after opening each present. She doesn’t seem to like any 1 gift more than the others, but it’s obvious my present cost the least.
Maddie gives her a silver necklace that says Windy in scrolly letters. It’s really cool and expensive. We all know it’s really expensive because Maddie tells us. “The shipping alone was like $30 because we ordered it from New York. You can’t buy jewelry with the name Windy off the shelf. It’s got to be custom-ordered.”
“It’s awesome, Maddie.” Windy gives her a hug.
After all the gifts are opened, I kind of wish Ms. Sitton would tell us it’s bedtime. I also want her to say that there’s been a change of plans and we need to leave 1st thing in the morning. She does neither.
“Have fun, girls.” She turns on the gigantic television and tells Windy to order any movie she wants. “Just keep the noise down,” she warns.
“And, Maddie.” Mrs. Thornton leans over her daughter but talks loud enough for us all to hear. “Watch your diet. You have a gymnastics meet next weekend. You need to stay trim.”
“I know, Mom.” Maddie’s cheeks redden. If Levi were here, I imagine he’d snap her picture at this moment. He could label the photo rage or embarrassment or disappointment. I’d tell him to send the picture to Mrs. Thornton because she doesn’t seem to notice any of it.
Ms. Sitton and Mrs. Thornton go into their room and leave us alone.
I help Windy gather snacks from the little kitchen in the back of the suite: candy, cookies, popcorn, and chips, and not a single vegetable.
“Are you having fun?” Windy asks me.
I shrug but then force myself to nod.
“Me too.” She smiles and does a little dance. “Best birthday ever! And everyone is being so cool. I was kinda worried.”
“And don’t you think that’s weird?” I ask as I grab a pack of soda out of the mini-fridge.
“What do you mean?”
“Why is Maddie being nice to you? I mean, she’s never—”
Windy interrupts me. “We used to be best friends. Are you jealous?”
“No, no.” The only person I’ve ever been jealous of is SquareHead314 when he/she finishes a problem faster than me.
“Good, because you’re my BFF now. I’ve just known Maddie longer.”
I nod and smile. Things will go back to normal next week. I hope.
“Where’s the food?” someone yells from the living room.
“Coming!” Windy answers. I follow her back to the group. We pass out the snacks, and then I find a spot on the floor next to Jennifer’s feet. My sit-stand routine—which everyone should be used to—is even more obvious when I’m trying to sit on the floor.
After watching 2 movies in the living room, I tell everyone I’m tired, which I am.
“I’m going to bed.” I wish
I were going to my real bed.
“Good night.” Windy stands and gives me a hug. “I love your gift,” she whispers.
I text Levi from my cot.
Me: I didn’t drown
Levi: having fun?
Me: not really
Levi: it’s almost over
Me: I’m stuck here another 14 hours
Levi: that’s 50,400 seconds
Levi: I did that in my head
I laugh. I know he’s using a calculator, but I appreciate his effort to make fun of me.
Me: good night
Levi: later, freak
I fall asleep pretty quickly. I think. Does anyone ever really know the exact moment they fall asleep? But when the rest of the girls come to bed later, they wake me up.
I turn over and keep my eyes closed. I guess I’m pretending to be asleep, though that sounds dishonest. I am trying to fall back asleep.
The girls laugh and joke around. They’re pinching each other, jumping from bed to bed, and Daniela is trying to pull down everyone’s pants. At least that’s what I think is happening. My eyes are still closed.
“Shhh,” Windy says, laughing. “Lucy is asleep.”
“Yes, everyone, quiet,” Maddie says, not quiet at all. “Don’t wake her up. I can’t deal with her anymore tonight.”
Maddie does something that makes everyone laugh. Probably making fun of me.
“Let’s hide her stash of cleaning wipes,” Maddie suggests.
“Don’t be mean,” Windy says.
“Geez, I was kidding. I just don’t get it.” Maddie actually lowers her voice. “Lucy’s okay for a little while. But I don’t know how you hang out with her all the time.”
I hold my breath, waiting for Windy to say something. I want to close my ears like I can close my eyes.
“She’s cool,” Windy says, rather unconvincingly. Like the way I’d say that all classes are as important as math.
“If you say so,” Maddie replies.
“You really should give her a chance. She’s nice, and she’s funny. She’s not good at painting nails, but she’s smart. And she’s helping a lot of dogs find loving homes.”
“She also doesn’t know how to be normal,” Maddie says. A bed creaks again and again. Some of the girls laugh. “That kid who used to pull out his hair was more normal than Lucy. She’s so—”
“Leave her alone. You shouldn’t make fun of her. She was struck by lightning!” Windy blurts out.
My heart stops—if that’s actually possible without a massive zap of electricity. The room is full of gasps. If I don’t move, maybe I’ll turn invisible. All I want is to disappear.
“What are you talking about?” Maddie’s voice rises above the rest.
“Nothing.”
“Windy, speak!” Maddie orders.
“Shhh,” Windy says. “Lucy was struck by lightning in elementary school. It turned her into a math genius.”
“Oh my god!” someone says.
Shut up. Shut up! I can’t move. I’m too shocked. Shut up. Shut up!
“She’s smarter than Einstein. She’s smarter than Mr. Stoker,” Windy continues. “She can do any math problem. How many geniuses do you know? She should be in college or working for some government agency. She’s way smarter than any of us or anyone we’ve ever met.”
I’d open my eyes if I thought I wouldn’t cry.
“But what about the sitting and the cleaning?” Jennifer asks. “Is that because of lightning, too?”
“I guess,” Windy answers.
“Whatever. Good at math and a human lightning rod—that’s what you call cool?” Maddie asks. “Maybe she’s smart. But she’s incredibly weird. She’s going to end up living alone in a basement with a bunch of cats. Windy, you used to have better taste in friends.”
“Well…it’s not like you even talk to me at school. You’ve been ignoring me all year.” I can’t tell whether Windy’s crying. “Lucy is the only one who wants to hang out with me.”
“Windy, you’re still 1 of my BFFs. We’ve known each other forever. We all love you.”
“Yeah,” Daniela agrees.
“Love you, Windy,” another adds.
“Middle school is different,” Maddie continues. “My mom says it’s all about balance. I have to make time for my schoolwork, and my family, and gymnastics, and all my friends.”
“You haven’t found much time for me,” Windy whispers.
“I will. I promise,” Maddie says. “I was thinking. You should join my team for the Cougars Care Project.”
“I already have a team,” Windy says.
“You don’t belong on that team,” Maddie says. “You’re not a weirdo. You don’t need to hang out with the cleaning lady and that stalker kid with the camera.”
Once she starts talking about Levi, I can’t take it anymore. I sit up. The room gets quiet, and everyone looks at me.
“Sorry. Did we wake you?” Maddie asks with a voice full of knives. Everyone laughs. Everyone but Windy.
“Lucy, are you okay?” Windy asks. She takes a seat on the end of my cot.
“Leave me alone.” I grab the pillow and walk out to the suite’s living room.
“Lucy!” Windy calls. “Wait!”
“Let her go,” Maddie says. “Don’t let her ruin your birthday.”
The next day, I sit in a plastic beach chair and count the words in a book while everyone else rides the waterslides again. We leave the park at 4:22, according to the clock in Ms. Sitton’s SUV. I stare out the window for the entire drive. The other girls play a version of Would You Rather? I don’t need to pretend to be asleep. No one even notices I’m here.
“She was a delight,” Ms. Sitton says when she drops me off. “A very sweet and polite girl.”
“Glad to hear it.” Nana stands in the doorway. “What do you say, Lucy?”
“Thank you. I had fun.” I was going to say thank you before she prompted me, even though I hated almost every minute of the party.
I follow Nana into the living room. She sits down on the couch.
“I’m tired,” I say.
“I bet. Did you have a good time?”
“It was all right.”
I go to my bedroom and check the pet blog. Pi has 3 new likes and 1 new comment (This is so sad. Hope Pi finds a forever home even if his forever won’t be long).
I text Levi.
Me: any news?
Levi: someone filled out adoption papers for Marty
That’s good, I guess.
Me: Anything else?
Levi: no sorry
* * *
We don’t have school on Monday because of Veterans Day, and the Pet Hut is closed. So I spend my time looking for last-resort dog sanctuaries. There’s a ranch in Tennessee called Sweet Dreams Farm that takes in sick and unadoptable animals. The dogs get to live there forever. But it costs $90 a month and is completely full.
On Tuesday, I still don’t want to see Windy.
“I’m not going to school today,” I announce as I walk into the kitchen.
Nana looks up from her bowl of cornflakes. “Are you sick?”
“No, I don’t want to go.” I grab a bowl from the cabinet.
“That’s not how school works,” Nana says. “You don’t pick and choose when you go.”
“I’m still tired.” I shrug. “I didn’t sleep at the hotel.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing!” I snap. “I’m tired. And I’m not hungry anymore.”
I throw my dish into the sink. It lands on a dirty glass, which shatters.
“Lucille!” Nana shouts.
I run to my room and close the door. The tears start before I can fall onto my bed. I don’t do my sit-stand rout
ine. I cry into my pillow and let the numbers flood my brain.
3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841…
The numbers come in, and Windy stays out.
I wish I could make Nana stay out, too. This is her fault. I didn’t want to go.
She knocks on the door. I don’t answer. She lets herself in.
97169399375105820974944592307…
She sits on my bed.
81640628620899862803…
She pulls me into a hug.
4825342117067…
I try to push away.
982148086…
She hugs me tighter.
513…
The numbers slowly fade.
Nana and I spend the rest of the morning on the couch watching the Travel Channel. We pretend that we are on a small tropical island that has no hotels, just little huts that stand in the water and come with butlers. Then we pretend to take the ultimate high-seas adventure on a cruise ship that has a carousel and an ice rink.
We order pizza for lunch. If this is what a sick day is like, I may never go back to East Hamlin Middle.
Windy texts me all day long from school, even though we aren’t supposed to use our phones during classes.
Windy: Where r u
Windy: Why aren’t you in school?
Windy: Are u sick?
I ignore them all. The 7th graders eat lunch from 11:10 to 11:35. I notice she doesn’t send me any texts during this time, or right after. She must be too busy hanging out with Maddie. I’m only her friend when no one else will be.
Windy: will you be at school tomorrow
“Windy or Levi?” Nana asks when my phone buzzes again.
“Windy.”
“She texts a lot. She must have quick thumbs.”
“She does.” I shove my phone under a couch cushion so Nana won’t hear it and give me the do-you-want-to-talk-about-it look.
When a show about the best resorts for your dog comes on the Travel Channel, I suddenly don’t want to be home anymore.
The Miscalculations of Lightning Girl Page 15
