Just as my feet untangled themselves for the first step backward, Harrison’s eyes met mine. His expression was surprised, then something else that made the muscles holding his mouth tight loosen and curl up at the corners.
“Hobbit,” Harrison said, as if he wasn’t quite talking to me.
“Mutant—um . . .” I flicked a quick glance at the man—his father? “Harrison.”
“You again,” Harrison said.
“Pretty much,” I said, balancing my backpack on the table in front of me. I wavered. Should I tell him the truth, or—? “So. Mom’s at work. Again.”
Harrison’s smile twisted. “My brother, Lance, is here. Still.”
I cleared my throat and looked at Mr. Ballard again. He wasn’t even watching us, just sitting forward and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. I took a seat in one of the cushy waiting room chair clusters, this one in front of a small table. After a moment, Harrison came over and sat down across from me.
I unzipped my backpack. “Want to play Agricola?” I asked, holding out a wooden pig.
Harrison looked from the pig to my bag. “You carry toy pigs in your backpack?”
I rolled my eyes and pulled out the game board, and the barnyard boards. “I went home to get the game, Mutant. I don’t just carry the pieces around.”
Harrison looked mystified as I pulled out the rest of the animals, tiles, cards, and markers that we would need. “I’ve never even heard of this game.”
“No problem,” I said, tossing him the rule book. “It’s easy.”
“Easy?” Harrison shook his head at the pages of instructions. “I should have known Hobbits wouldn’t play anything normal like chess.”
“Chess? Boring.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s such a Mutant game.”
“Son?” Mr. Ballard approached the edge of our table, carrying Harrison’s briefcase. He set the case down next to Harrison, giving me a nod. “I’m going back upstairs. You can change your mind and join us at any time, but you look like you’re getting comfortable here—?”
“Yeah, thanks. I’m good,” Harrison said, keeping his eyes on the fine print in the rule book.
Mr. Ballard paused a moment, as if giving Harrison a chance to say something—maybe introduce me?—and then smiled down at his son, who was completely wrapped up in reading and ignoring him. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where we are.” He rubbed his knuckles on Harrison’s head—ducked back as Harrison swatted at him, then winked at me, before crossing the lobby toward the bank of elevators.
I watched Mr. Ballard walk away, a little weirded out at how he even moved like a much bigger version of the mutant Ballard across from me. I wondered if something had happened today or recently that had made things worse for Harrison’s brother, and if that was the reason they were all here again today. I wished it wasn’t totally nosy to ask, but I could just imagine Mom glaring at me. Some things, like diagnoses and other people’s troubles, were absolutely off-limits, and I decided to keep my nosiness to myself.
I glanced back at Harrison to find him watching me, his expression very carefully no expression at all.
“You should just ask,” he said, balancing a little cattle token on top of another cow’s back. “You know you want to know, so just get it over with.”
“Harrison—” I bit my tongue, hard, to stop the automatic denial. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake two times. I did want to know—a lot—but was asking the right thing to do? I looked at Harrison hard, frowning over the puzzle of his face. Was there a question that really needed asking?
Just ask.
“Okay.” I gave the answer to myself and said it again to Harrison. “Okay. I’m asking.”
Harrison blinked, like he wasn’t expecting this. He put down the cow he was fiddling with and crossed his arms. “So?”
“Um.” Nerves tiptoed my skin, and I rubbed my arms uncomfortably. It was one thing to want to know details about Harrison’s brother and his family, but asking them straight out? “Um, so I want to know . . . wait. First, are you okay, Harrison? I mean, in a way you’re not okay, because Lance is here, and I know that’s kind of a lot, and I know you sometimes miss school, and I know you missed senate last week, which probably bugged you, since your friend Mrs. Henry didn’t get to tell you how awesome you are, but I know your parents spend a lot of time here, and you stay with your grandparents sometimes, which is probably fine, too, but not normal . . . so,” I took a big breath, wincing at Harrison’s stunned expression. “Sorry—I mean, I know you’re not okay-okay, but I’m just checking: Are you mostly okay? Is there something I can do? To help?”
“Uh . . .” Harrison avoided my eyes, fiddling with the game pieces. He balanced another stack of cows, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he said, then looked at me and shrugged. “I mean, I’ll feel much better when I completely own you at whatever this game is, but I’m good.”
“Yeah, right,” I said, suddenly embarrassed, and a little disappointed. After working hard to make sure I was ready to listen, Harrison wasn’t . . . saying anything. Maybe I hadn’t asked right. “Whatever, Mutant. You can forget about owning anything. You don’t even know how to play.”
“I’ll figure it out,” Harrison said, and bent back over the rules.
It’s hard to teach a game and play it at the same time. It mostly went okay, but Harrison eventually got irritated with the rule book—and probably tired of me reminding him of things—and dug into his briefcase for one of the same legal pads he’d used for the Red Ribbon stuff.
“What? I need to take notes,” he said, at my disbelieving glance.
“Why do you carry a briefcase, anyway?” I asked, leaning to the side so I could see the contents. I remembered JC’s claim that he had nothing but little pieces of paper inside with my name on them. “What do you have in there?”
“Just all the stuff I need,” Harrison said. He paused.
Before I could ask what kind of stuff a giant Boy Mutant might need, Harrison slid out a gray rectangle from an inner pocket. “Want to see something?” He turned the rectangle around, and I saw a framed picture of a shorter, thicker Harrison standing by a waterfall with another big boy. Lance was even taller than Mr. Ballard, and his curly hair was even bigger than Harrison’s. His grin was just the same.
“You guys climbed a mountain?”
“Well, part of one,” Harrison said, turning the frame back toward himself. “We went camping at Big Basin by Santa Cruz for Lance’s graduation. Dad took us hiking up to Berry Creek Falls.”
“Cool.”
“It was a good trip.” Harrison buffed the glass with his sleeve. “Lance is a really good climber. He climbs Half Dome at Yosemite every summer.” Harrison paused, then corrected himself. “I mean, he climbed it. Before. Last summer he was at college, so he didn’t, but he told me his medication messed up his balance anyway.” Harrison shrugged. “That’s why he stopped taking it, I guess. He has,” Harrison said the name like he was reading it from a medical book, “mixed-features bipolar disorder.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what that was, but I knew that when Mom’s patients stopped taking their drugs, it usually meant they spent time back at New Vista until their bodies learned how to feel right taking them again. Sometimes they felt worse than they had before they’d taken medication to begin with. “I hope they find Lance a different drug.”
Harrison shrugged. “That’s what they’re supposed to be doing. It isn’t working, though. Lance was supposed to climb Vernal Falls with Dad and me this year, but I don’t think we’re going.”
I tucked my fingers in a fist to keep from chewing on my nails. Harrison sounded sad. “That sucks. Maybe you can plan to hike something else. Something flat?”
Harrison put the picture back into his briefcase and sighed. “Maybe.”
“What else do you do? With your brother, I mean? It’s kind of cool you hang out.”
Harrison shrugged. “We play games that don’t have she
ep in them.”
I shook my head, sighing. “Dude, you do not know what you’re missing, then.”
Harrison returned to his pad of paper. “Okay. Let me get this straight. I can only make two moves on each turn . . . ?”
“Rena-Bean? I’m ready to go.” Mom had her bag over her shoulder and was shrugging into her coat. She smiled at Harrison. “Harrison, you’re welcome to come home with us and have something to eat. Your mom and dad said they could pick you up from our house.”
“Come over, Harrison,” I whispered loudly. “Mom will get us pizza.”
Mom rolled her eyes and whispered back, “We are having sourdough toast and minestrone.” In a normal voice she added, “You can make mini pizzas from the sourdough if you want, but you’re on your own. Soup’s already made, and we’re not ordering out.”
Harrison gnawed his lower lip. “Is Lance up?”
Mom nodded. “Last I saw, he was sitting in the activity room with your dad.”
Harrison picked up his briefcase and looked at me. “Thanks for the game, but I think I’m going to ask Lance if he knows a hike we can take that’s not as steep.”
A little disappointed, but also a little bit relieved, I looked carefully at Harrison’s expression again. For once, he didn’t look like he was making fun of me. “Maybe your dad knows a place,” I said as I tucked the last pig away.
Harrison nodded, looking determined now. “See you tomorrow.”
On the way out, Mom put her arm around me and squeezed. “I feel like I should get a briefcase,” she said. “Harrison looks more like an adult than I do.”
“You don’t need a briefcase,” I told her, hugging her back. Mom didn’t have to carry reminders of the people she needed. “You’ve got me.”
Mom laid her cheek on top of my head. “That’s all right, then,” she said.
And it was.
SERENA|SAYS
What’s up, World? It’s your girl Serena! Welcome back to my vlog, and welcome to those of you who just heard I have one. Today Serena Says is reporting LIVE from the Brigid Ogan WinterFest!
[applause]
We have a little time before the basket raffle, so I’m here with Brigid Ogan community members Cameron, Ally, Mateo, Eliana, and Lani in front of this amazing Nile project book on display here in the library. Cameron, say hello to our viewers, and tell us the story of how you ended up doing this amazing poster.
“Uh . . . hi! Yeah, um, so, I did this poster for, um, extra credit for our group.”
It’s really good. Tell us a little more. What made you put that little cat on the bottom?
“I made a mummy first. It was papier-mâché, and I rubbed dirt into it so it looked really old and gross . . . but then I thought it would look better as a page in the book, so I drew a cat for the poster because people in Egypt liked cats.”
Thanks, Cameron. Hi, Mateo, will you share with us one of the rhymes from the book?
“Yeah, so one of my facts was about pyramids, right? So, okay, let me get a beat—
‘My rhyme drops deep, as deep as a tomb—
(That’s a box made outta rocks deep in the Earth, a room.)
In Egypt where I’m rappin’, in a pyramid state of mind
The treasures that you’re trackin’ will drop a curse on your behind.
Imhotep, you’d better step back and check it—
130 is the count, though a king still tried to wreck it.
Al-Aziz gave it up, and you’d better give up too.
Five tons of limestone brick—the pyramids will flatten you.’”
Nice. I think that’s my favorite one, Mateo. Hi, Ally! Will you tell our viewers about your part of the project?
“Yeah! Um, hi, one of my facts is about ancient Egyptian inventions. So I made a page about toothpaste, because the Egyptians invented it.”
Cool! Did you try to brush your teeth with it?
“Well, I only mostly made the recipe. My mom wouldn’t let me buy iris root, because it was kind of expensive, so I used rock salt and crushed mint and crushed peppercorns, and left out the iris. And it was SO gross—it was all salty and gritty and the pepper burned my mouth . . . but it also made my teeth feel really slick. So I guess it worked?”
Um, I guess? Eew, though, right? Ally, thanks for trying it out for us. Eliana, welcome to Serena Says. Viewers, Eli made the amazing eye shadow she’s wearing—and you can check out my DIY vlog from two weeks ago to learn how! So, Eli, tell us about putting the book together.
“Okay, so, we were going to use my dad’s laminating machine to do the pages, but then Cameron’s pages were, like, 3D, right? And you can’t really laminate papier-mâché. SO, Lani said we should just, like, make a real book, like they do at publishing companies, with a sewing machine. We watched a video about how to make a cover out of cloth, but then we broke a bunch of Mom’s needles sewing it on her sewing machine, so we used a ton of glue. We punched in holes to lace the pages together, and we used three of my dad’s C-clamps and a brick to weigh it down because it’s so big, the book wouldn’t lay down flat at first. But then, finally, it did!”
It looks great, like a real book.
“We are SO going to get an A!”
So, Lani . . . last but definitely not least! Tell the viewers what you loved about this project.
“Hi, everybody. This was really fun. One of my facts was about hieroglyphs, and my favorite page was making a sentence using all these little drawings. They’re actually kind of pretty. I’m not very good at drawing, but I could make all the little symbols.”
That’s cool. The symbols were really neat, and I think they look great on the cover.
“You know the best thing about this project, though? Everybody did some, right? I mean, even though SOME PEOPLE fooled around a lot, everybody worked, too, and we are for sure getting an A. You’re a good project manager, Serena. Not to be mean or anything, but sometimes people don’t know other people are nice or whatever because they don’t get to talk to them. It’s been nice to talk to you more.”
Oh, wow, Lani. Yeah, same. It’s been nice to talk to you more too.
[pause]
Well, viewers, it’s time for the raffle, so I’m going to bounce, but first, tell me what you think. Hit me with your comments in the Community tab and let me know—do you think we’re going to get an A for this project or what? Have you ever done a project you thought you’d hate, but then found out you loved? Do you have a classmate who is kind of unexpectedly awesome? Or—hi, Harrison!—a Mutant classmate who is growing on you—kind of like mold? Serena says there are amazing people around—all you have to do is be yourself and you’ll find them. Remember, stand up and speak out, be kinder than necessary, and let the world see your awesomeness.
This is Serena St. John. That’s my story, and I’m out.
Acknowledgments
With gratitude to JC, who let me pick her brain for all the details of her kidney transplant, and to my writing group—David Elzey, Suzi Guina, Sara Lewis Holmes, Jennifer Richter, and Sarah J. Stevenson—who so often let me borrow their voices. Finally, thanks to everyone in the transplant community—hospital support staff, nurses, doctors, donors, and recipients—who make sure people like me get to keep their little sisters, and who make extraordinary miracles appear ordinary every single day. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
About the Author
Photo by David T. Macknet
TANITA S. DAVIS is the award-winning author of six novels for middle grade and young adult readers, including Peas and Carrots, Happy Families, and Mare’s War, which was a Coretta Scott King Honor Book and earned her a nomination for the NAACP Image Award. She grew up in California and was so chatty as a kid that her mother begged her to “just write it down.” Now she’s back in California, doing her best to keep writing it all down.
www.tanitasdavis.com
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Copyright
Katherine Tegen Books
is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
SERENA SAYS. Copyright © 2020 by Tanita S. Davis. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Cover art © 2020 by Frank Morrison
Cover design by David DeWitt
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Davis, Tanita S., author.
Title: Serena says / Tanita S. Davis.
Description: First edition. | New York, NY : Katherine Tegen Books, [2020] | Audience: Ages 8–12. | Audience: Grades 4–6. | Summary: “After her best friend, JC, has a kidney transplant, Serena feels that they are falling out of touch, especially as JC makes a new best friend in the hospital”— Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2020000857 | ISBN 978-0-06-293697-4 (hardcover)
Subjects: CYAC: Best friends—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction. | Kidneys—Diseases—Fiction. | Transplantation of organs, tissues, etc.—Fiction. | Video blogs—Fiction. | African Americans—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.D3174 Ser 2020 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020000857
* * *
Digital Edition NOVEMBER 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-293699-8
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