by Jen Calonita
“Okay, she’s definitely got a concussion,” Reagan said. “We need to find her mom.”
“Mrs. Mitchell?” I heard Jada say. “It’s Jada, Zoe’s friend. She’s fine, but she hit her head. Yes, she’s okay. Yes, we’re going to go to the nurse. Okay.” She looked at us. “She’s on her way.”
“I’ll meet her at the curb so she knows where to go,” Reagan said.
“I’ll get her to the nurse,” Clare insisted, and helped me up and to the door. Jada was still talking to my mom. “You guys find Principal Higgins.”
“Got it!” Dougie said, and jogged off with Jake down the hall. I could hear them talking as they ran. “Dude, Laura Lancaster likes you!”
“Are you okay to walk?” Clare asked me as I stumbled along. “I’ve got your phone in my pocket. It’s broken, but I thought you’d want to have it with you when your mom came.”
“Yeah.” My head was throbbing, but at least my vision was clear again. This day just kept getting better. “I totally deserve this, you know. This is what happens when you try to trick your best friend into still liking you,” I said mournfully. “Sorry. I shouldn’t feel sorry for myself, not when it’s my fault.”
“What do you mean ‘tricked’?” Clare asked. “You can’t trick someone into liking you. You had a fight. You’ll make up.”
This had to mean Clare didn’t remember the app! If she did, she would have asked me about it. At least my retake for Clare had worked. I glanced her way. “Is that what happened with you and Ava?” I asked curiously. Clare looked at me strangely. “That’s personal, sorry. But I heard you guys were close in elementary school.”
“We were,” Clare said, “but we grew apart. It hurt at first, but now I kind of think it was a good thing. We both found our people.” She pushed a strand of teal hair behind her right ear. “Reagan and Jada are awesome, and Future City is the best club. You should come back.”
I smiled through the pain. Clare seemed happy. At least I’d done something right. “I will.” We hobbled a few more doors down to the nurse together. “Thanks, Clare.”
“Of course!” she said, and helped me through the door. “And when you’re feeling better, we should hang out.” She grinned. “I have a feeling we’d get along.”
“I do too,” I agreed, and slowly sat down in a waiting room chair. Clare handed me my broken phone.
“Hello?” Clare called. “Is anyone still here?”
“What do we have here?”
I looked up. A woman with bright red hair and even redder glasses, wearing a blue sweater and a swishy skirt, was moving toward me. She had a huge string of pearls around her neck.
“Marge!” I cried, standing up fast. The room around me started to spin again, and I could hear a swooshing sound in my ears. “You’re back! You can help me!”
Clare and Marge looked at each other.
“ ‘Back’? Sweet pea, I’ve been here all afternoon.” Marge led me to a cot. “The school nurse had to leave early to pick up her kid from the first day of school, so I’m holding down the fort. And of course I’m going to help you. I’m no doctor, but we can make you comfortable till your mother arrives.”
I grabbed her arm and wouldn’t let go. “It was you, wasn’t it? You put the app on my phone!” I held up the cracked screen. Clare looked from me to Marge worriedly.
“Put what on your phone? Oh my, she’s hysterical!” Marge got a cold compress from the refrigerator, cracked it, and placed it on my forehead. “Darling, you are not even making sense.”
“I am too! I need you to fix my phone! I know you can,” I begged.
“Darling, this isn’t Verizon!” Marge chuckled.
“She was hit by a volleyball in the gym,” Clare explained. “Her mom is on the way.”
“I think she’s in shock.” Marge ushered Clare to the door. “Why don’t you wait for her mother outside and bring her to the office for me? That’s a good girl!” She closed the door behind her.
Marge put her hands on her hips and looked at me. “Why don’t you just relax till your mother arrives?”
“I can’t relax!” I insisted, feeling frustrated. I sat up fast, and the compress fell off my head and onto the floor. Marge bent down to pick it up. “My phone broke, and now I’m stuck here, and I’ve messed everything up. Nothing has gone right! I tried and tried to keep retaking all these moments, but every time I did something new, it only messed up my life more. I can’t get back, and I’ve quit my favorite activities. I’ve ruined my friendships. I just wish I never tried to change anything. Well, except this one thing—I started the positivity wall in the bathroom, and I think it helped the girl who just left, so that was good.”
Marge gave me back the ice pack. “I heard about that wall in the girls’ bathroom. That’s lovely.”
“But everything else is a disaster. If I could just go back to the real first day of school, I wouldn’t try to change a thing. I’d just let the year go wherever it was supposed to, whether it meant Laura and I were best friends or not. I get it now,” I said, looking into her green eyes. “Things change and that’s okay. I shouldn’t use an app to stop it. Please.” I held up my phone and showed her the cracked screen again. “Just get Retake off my phone. I know you were the one who put it on there when we met in the main office yesterday. I mean, today! Yesterday!” I held my head. “It feels like it’s been on there for weeks.”
“Sweet pea, just relax.” Marge placed my hand with the phone down on the cot next to me.
“But…” I knew I should say more, but Marge’s smile was sort of soothing.
“Stop talking,” she said. “That’s a good girl. Everything is going to work out just fine.” She winked at me.
“Fine.” That’s the last word I heard before I saw the flash.
I woke up to the smell of pancakes, chocolate, and the sound of my alarm.
Beeeep! it blared, pushing me to get up. Beeeep! It sounded like it was coming from my…phone.
I sat up and looked over at my bedside table.
My phone! There it was, glowing softly without a scratch on it! I picked it up and looked at the date: September 7! It was the second day of school! I didn’t have to do the first day over again! But was this my reality or an alternate one? There was only one way to be sure. I jumped out of bed and ran to my hamper. Taryn’s white jeans with the brown stain were lying right on top. Yes! Heart pounding, I ran back to my bed and scrolled through my apps.
The bright pink icon was gone.
“DOUBLE YES!” I screamed, throwing myself back onto my bed. (My old comforter and my stuffed animals were back too! Hello, Manny the Manatee!) I kicked my legs and pounded my fists as hard as I could and continued to scream so hard I thought I might cry.
I was back!
Thank you, Marge!
“OMG, would you stop screaming!” Taryn walked into my room holding her hairbrush. She only had makeup on her right eye. “And shut off your phone alarm. It’s giving me a migraine.”
I jumped out of bed and threw myself at her.
“What the…?” Taryn just stood there as I clung to her midsection. “What is wrong with you?” Her voice was softer now. “The stain is going to come out of my jeans, I’m sure. And no one will even remember what happened yesterday. I promise.”
“Who cares if they do?” I held on. I had my cranky, distant sister back and had never been happier to see her. I looked up at her. “Volleyball tryouts are still today, right?”
“Yes.” Taryn looked at me strangely. “Didn’t we just talk about this yesterday afternoon? I told you I spoke to the coach for you. You better be there.”
“I won’t miss them,” I said, feeling practically giddy. “Even if I don’t make the team, I’m going to at least show up and try out.”
“Okay, good.” Taryn narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want
to hear this garbage that because Laura isn’t trying out, you aren’t trying out.”
“I’m not,” I promised. “I don’t care what Laura does. I mean, I care, and I wish she were doing volleyball, too, but there is no way I’m not trying out for the team. I like volleyball too much. And I love Future City and am doing that too! With Reagan, Jada, and this girl Clare. She’s awesome.” I was aware I was talking really fast. “I’m not sure why I’ve never hung out with her before. But I will now. We should hang out more too. I miss you, and I could really use some help doing this whole seventh-grade thing. As the white jeans have taught me, I don’t have a clue about anything.”
There. I said it. I put myself out there. If the Retake app had taught me one thing, it was that the past was in the past for a reason. I’d always have my memories of me and Laura, but there was no need to try to redo them. It was time to look forward and make new memories. That’s what seventh grade was all about.
Taryn put her hand to my forehead. “Maybe you really do have a fever.”
I pushed her hand away. “I don’t have a fever. I just miss you. I know you have your own friends and a life that is way cooler than mine, but I miss you, Taryn Golightly.”
Taryn grinned. “You haven’t used that name for me in years.”
“Because we haven’t watched Audrey together in years! And I could use some more Audrey.”
“So could I,” Taryn said with a sigh, and looked at me. “Okay, I’m not committing to Saturday night because that’s when I’m usually out.”
“Of course.”
“But Friday night would work for some sisterly bonding. If you really miss it.”
“I miss it! I miss us!”
“Really?” Taryn looked at me with interest. “I’d kind of gotten the impression that Laura was like the sister you always wanted and you didn’t need me anymore.”
I hugged her again. “Not true. I definitely need you. Especially now! And Audrey.”
“Everyone needs Audrey,” Taryn agreed, and we both smiled. She held up her hairbrush. “I have to finish my hair before the bus comes, but if you want, I’ll help you find something to wear.” She raised her right eyebrow. “I may even let you borrow something from my closet since we don’t want you repeating the white jeans–isode from yesterday.” We both laughed. Taryn headed to my closet.
“Definitely not,” I said, and ran over to grab my phone. I quickly texted Reagan and Jada.
Me: Hey! See you at the bus! Save me a seat with you guys!
A reply came right back.
Jada: Always! See you soon.
Reagan: Don’t wear white jeans! LOL
Me: I’m not! My sister is picking my outfit!
“How about this?” I heard Taryn say, and I headed over to my closet. She was holding up a navy tank top with tiny blue pom-pom fringe that I recognized. My closet was also back to normal and a complete disaster. I would have to do something about that.
“I like it,” I said. “Can I wear it with jeans? Blue jeans?”
“Yes.” Taryn’s head was still in my closet. “Let me just see which sandals you have that will go best with it. Go with flats. You won’t trip. This one time I wore cork wedges in middle school, and I tripped over someone’s foot and went flying.”
As Taryn talked, my eyes landed on the corkboard over my desk. I moved in closer to look at the pictures. All of my original photos were back. I stared at one of Laura and me in the tree house, taken before the summer. A Jenga tower was built in front of us, and our sleeping bags were curled up behind us.
Taryn stood beside me. “She’s a jerk.” No name was needed.
“She’s not,” I said, lifting the picture off the corkboard. We both stared at it. “I mean, she didn’t have to just ditch me like she did, but it’s time to move on. We want to do different things.”
I wasn’t going to lie: It still hurt. I didn’t get why Laura couldn’t be friends with me and with the drama queens, but I couldn’t turn myself into who she wanted me to be just to make her happy, and she couldn’t keep doing what I liked to make me happy. Like Mom said, Laura’s and my friendship fading didn’t necessarily mean it was over. Maybe it just meant it would change again and again, like friendships do.
“You sound like Mom,” Taryn said.
“She’s right, but don’t tell her I said that.” I started to take down the rest of the pictures of Laura and me. Taryn quietly helped me. I wouldn’t throw them out. I’d just stick them in a drawer to remember later. The pictures and the memories were real. Unlike some of our posts on social media, they hadn’t been posed. And no matter what happened, these memories couldn’t be erased.
Well, except for maybe in the retake. And I was definitely never looking for that again. I didn’t need a retake. Seventh grade was going to be just fine without one.
“Girls! It’s not summer anymore! Get a move on!” Mom called up the stairs, and Taryn threw me the tank top.
It was time for school.
Mom was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with my lunch. “Now, the bus is going to be fine, I’m sure, and you already printed out your schedule again, right?”
I paused on the bottom step. “I know it now.” I was technically on day four of classes. “And the bus is fine. Jada and Reagan are saving me a seat. I’m going to go to volleyball tryouts with them after school, and I think Future City starts next week.”
Mom smiled. “Thatta girl.”
“But keep your phone on,” I added as I kissed her cheek and headed out the door. “Just in case someone hits me in the face with a ball.”
“What?”
“Bye, Taryn!” I shouted up the stairs.
“Bye!” she called back.
Waiting at the bus stop, I couldn’t help myself: I still clicked on Instagram. The picture of Laura and the drama queens at Ava’s pool was waiting. The five of them were posing on a rock ledge with a waterfall behind them, and every single one of them had something green on. I read Laura’s hashtag: #summerlastsforeverwfriends!
This time, I didn’t let myself get upset over it. Instead, I clicked like. Why not? We were still friends. Then I kept scrolling, looking for the feed of my favorite German soccer player. Then I found a Girls Who Look Like Hepburn group and followed that. Some of the girls really did look like Audrey. Or maybe they really didn’t. With filters and editing, pictures could be anything you wanted them to be. Trying to retake a picture to make my life seem better was ridiculous. That picture was just a teeny-tiny snapshot of one minuscule second of someone’s day. And who knew what it even took to get that picture right? If it was anything like what happened when Mom tried to get a decent picture of Taryn and me together on vacation, I knew it took about three dozen attempts before there was a good one of us smiling.
I slipped my phone into my bag. It was time to concentrate on living my life, not staging the perfect picture.
The bus pulled up, and I stepped on. I spotted Reagan and Jada right away.
“I like your top!” Jada said. “Where did you get it? Blue looks good on you. Did you print your schedule?”
“Jada!” Reagan said. “Chill.” We all started to laugh. “Sorry. Second-day jitters. Yesterday was hard.”
“It was,” I agreed. I’d had a lot of hard days lately, but I could already tell today wasn’t going to be one of them. “But at least we’re together. Are you guys around this weekend? Maybe we could have a sleepover at my house. I have this awesome tree house.”
Reagan and Jada looked at each other. “I have always wanted to see your tree house. The pictures you and Laura have posted of it look so cool.”
“Well, there are lots of bugs, but we have twinkle lights and the Wi-Fi works up there, so we can bring a speaker,” I said.
“Will Laura come too?” Jada asked awkwardly.
“I do
n’t think so,” I said, and left it at that. “But we can ask Clare.”
Jada smiled. “I like Clare. She always has the best ideas at Future City. Let’s.”
We spent the rest of the bus ride thinking of games we’d play. Reagan had some dice game called Tenzi, and Jada swore she had her own recipe for mud masks that we had to try. Reagan looked a little nervous about that, but I was already looking forward to the weekend ahead instead of looking back.
When the bus pulled up at school, Clare was just stepping off her bus as well. Today she had on a female Thor graphic tee; jeans she’d obviously doctored herself with hearts, words, and emojis; and beat-up tennis shoes. “Hey! So, Zoe, do you need to stop at the main office again for your schedule?”
“Nope.” I smiled at her. “I’ve memorized it by now.”
Clare grinned. “It’s about time.”
“Hey. Want to have sleepover with us this weekend?” I asked. “In my tree house?”
“I’m in,” Clare said. “Let’s do a séance.”
“A séance?” Jada squeaked.
“Those are fake, right?” Reagan added, laughing nervously.
“Maybe, but they’re fun.” Clare shrugged as we walked into school together.
When we parted ways with Reagan and Jada at the stairs, I spotted the nurse’s office out of the corner of my eye.
“Give me one second,” I told Clare. I hurried into the office. The phone was ringing off the hook, and a young nurse looked frazzled. “Excuse me, I said. “Is there a Marge Simpkins working today? Or in the main office? She was here yesterday afternoon. I think she’s a temp.”
The nurse frowned. “We don’t have temps in the nurse’s office.”
“Redhead? Dresses very vintage?” I added, feeling my stomach drop. “Red glasses?”
“Nope.” The nurse glared at the phone still ringing. “Are you feeling okay? Otherwise, I really need to get that phone.”