Finally

by Wendy Mass

  Soon enough, her parents are gone. Not an uncle or aunt in sight. I glance over at Natalie’s brother’s band, but they’re so into their playing that they probably wouldn’t notice if a spaceship landed and abducted all of us.

  One by one, kids start making their way into the pool house. I hear Ruby say, “Oh, I think I left my bathing suit here last week. Do you want to help me check?” and all the other gymnastics girls run in after her, giggling. Then one of the boys says, “Hey, I think they’ve got a soccer ball in there that we can kick around.” Six guys push and shove to get inside first.

  “C’mon,” Annabelle says, pulling me by the arm. She catches the door before it closes and pushes me through it. All of the shades in the large, square-shaped room have been pulled down, which makes it seem like it’s nighttime in the middle of the day.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell Annabelle, pushing gently through the crowd before she has a chance to stop me. The bathroom is attached to the main room through a small hall. I lock the door behind me and turn on the light. The toilet itself is behind its own door, so someone could change into their bathing suit in private, if they liked. I go into the stall and sit down on the closed toilet seat.

  For lack of anything better to do, I start taking things out of my purse. First, the lip gloss. Might as well put more on, since I’m sure mine wore off when I ate. After that, I lift out my house key and turn it over a few times. I wonder what my family’s doing at home. I heard Dad say something about building a fort for Sawyer out of old boxes and blankets. I like forts. When I was younger, Dad used to build them with me, and then we’d crawl inside and read comics with our flashlights. I suddenly worry that Natalie won’t like my gift. She probably doesn’t play in many forts these days. I put the key back into the purse and pull out my cell phone. As always, the weight of it in my hand makes me happy. I’m also very proud of myself that I haven’t lost it since that first day. My fingers move toward the numbers. My hand seems to know I’m about to call Mom even before my brain does.

  I’ve only gotten to the first three numbers when I hear voices outside the door. I freeze as the outside knob to the bathroom jiggles. “It’s locked,” a girl’s voice says, sounding disappointed. I let out my breath, relieved I’d remembered to lock it. More jiggling. “Wait,” the girl says, pushing against it, “I think it’s just stuck.” And to my horror, the door bangs open! I instantly pull my legs up onto the seat. This is getting to be a pattern. Nothing good came out of it last time, and I’m not expecting a happy ending this time, either.

  The girl, giggling, says, “C’mon, we only have five minutes before it’s someone else’s turn.” I know I recognize her voice, but I can’t think straight enough to place it.

  My eyes widen when a boy’s voice replies, “Okay, okay,” and he pushes the door closed behind him.

  “So …” the girl says, “how come you’re never online anymore? I haven’t seen your screen name pop up since our IM that time, like, weeks ago.”

  “What IM?”

  Omigod. It’s Alexa and Boy Rory! And of course now the soda is telling me I really do need to use the bathroom. I scrunch into an even smaller ball, if that’s possible.

  “Sure we did,” Alexa says. “We even talked about this party.”

  “Sorry,” he says. “Just didn’t happen.”

  I’d love to peek through the wooden slats to see Alexa’s expression right now, but I don’t dare.

  After a pause she says, “Well, we only have two minutes left. Are we gonna kiss or what?”

  “Why not?” Boy Rory replies.

  I roll my eyes. How romantic. For the next two minutes I squeeze my eyes closed and cover my ears with my hands, one of which is still grasping my phone. I’d hum to block out the noise even more, but can’t risk detection.

  After the longest 120 seconds in human history, the door opens and they leave. I scramble out of the stall and lock the main door. This time I notice one of those chain locks on the top, which must be there because the one on the knob doesn’t work. I quickly latch the chain and hurry back to the stall. Right as I turn around to flush, the knob jiggles, no doubt with the next happy couple. “Just a minute,” I call out, heart pounding. I try to do everything at once — flush, stick my phone back in my purse, put my purse back on my arm, straighten my dress. I hear the plop before I see it. Wincing and praying, I turn around and peek in the toilet. My worst fear is confirmed. There, on the bottom of the bowl, lies my cell phone. With only a second’s hesitation, I reach in, grab it, wrap it in toilet paper, and stuff it in my purse. Then I let myself out of the stall and wash my hands really, really well.

  “Hurry up in there!” a boy’s voice says, knocking on the door. “We don’t have all day!”

  I don’t bother to reply, just push my way out, without even bothering to see who it is. Then an arm grabs me and I stop and turn. Annabelle!

  “Hey!” she says. “Are you okay? You’ve been gone forever!”

  “Actually, I don’t feel great. I think I’m going to call my mom to pick me up.”

  I glance over to see that the boy who was knocking before is Leo’s friend Vinnie, who is an extra with us. I’d seen him and Annabelle talking a few times, but she never mentioned that she liked him or anything.

  “Are you sure?” she asks. Then she glances at Vinnie, who is pointing to his watch and tapping his foot. “Do you mind if I stay?”

  “No, you totally should. I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay,” she says, reaching out to hug me. “Feel better.” Vinnie holds the door open for Annabelle to enter first, then he closes it behind them with a wave.

  Leaning against the wall, I open my purse and unwrap the wet toilet paper until I reach the phone. Hoping against hope, I press some buttons. No beeps. No lights flash on the screen. Nothing. This is even worse than a fine kettle of fish. Not that I actually know what a kettle of fish is.

  I drop the phone in my purse, and head back into the main pool house. The group has thinned. I easily slip out the front door and have to blink against the brightness. The band is still playing, but now it’s not really music, it’s more like noise, like they’re all playing their instruments at once. Sari is sitting on a slope of grass talking to some kids from our gym class, although I’m not sure how they can hear one another over the band. When I approach, Sari looks up and asks, “Is it our turn yet?” and I realize the people outside are just waiting to be the people inside. I shake my head and ask to borrow her phone. She digs it out of her pocket and hands it to me.

  “What happened to yours?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  She shrugs happily and returns to the group. I walk to a relatively quiet corner of the yard and call Mom.

  “Sari?” she says. “What’s wrong? Where’s Rory?”

  “It’s me, Mom. I’m just using Sari’s phone.”

  “Oh, phew, okay. Wait, what’s wrong with your own phone?”

  I sigh. “I’d rather not say.”

  “Why are you calling? The party’s not over yet, is it?”

  “Not exactly … I was just thinking maybe you could pick me up a little early?”

  She doesn’t answer, and for a second I worry we lost the connection. Then she says, “It’ll take me at least twenty minutes to get there. Is that okay?”

  “No problem.”

  “Do you want me to come inside?” I shake my head, then feel stupid since obviously she can’t see me. “No, no, I’ll wait out front.”

  “Okay.”

  I give Sari her phone back, and tell her the same story I told Annabelle. She raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t question me. I walk around to the front of the house, sit down on the tall curb, and tuck my dress around my legs.

  The band must be taking a break because I can’t hear them anymore. In fact, it’s very quiet except for some faraway dog barking. Not a single car goes by in my first minute out here. I shift my weight a bit. It feels strange to be sitting alone in an unf
amiliar neighborhood. All the houses suddenly look weird, like no one lives in any of them and I’m the only person on the planet. Well, the only person except for Jason from Friday the 13th, who no doubt is lurking behind a nearby tree. I probably shouldn’t have watched that movie.

  A dog barks, and I jump right off the curb and scramble onto the lawn. A big yellow dog lumbers down the street toward me, followed by a tall girl in shorts and a T-shirt, waving a leash. “Come back here, Bandit! Bad dog!”

  Bandit is only a few feet away from me now. He looks happy enough, tail wagging and ears up, but I’m not taking any chances. Keeping my eye on him, I back up farther. He reaches the curb and sniffs. “Wait a minute, I know you,” I tell him. “You’re that dog I caught!”

  “Hey, it’s you!” the girl says, coming up behind the dog and snapping the leash on his collar.

  I look up at her face. It’s the girl from the ballet auditions! “Hey!” I reply, just as surprised. “Wow, do you live here?”

  She points to a small tan-colored house down the block. “Right over there. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m, um, just waiting for my mom to pick me up.”

  She looks around behind me, then up and down the street. She must have figured out that I’m out here alone, because she says, “Do you want to wait at my house? You can call her and tell her to pick you up there.” Glancing at my purse, she says, “Do you have a cell phone?”

  “It’s not really working right now.”

  “You can call from my house then.” As we walk, she says, “I never got to really thank you for what you did. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you standing on that table! How did you ever think to turn the clock back?”

  I smile. “A very smart ten-year-old taught me. She loves to dance, too. I think she’d like to know that she helped.”

  “Well, I really owe both of you,” she says, pushing open her front door. “I never would have made it into the program otherwise.”

  “You made it! That’s great!”

  She takes the leash off Bandit and he jumps onto the couch and instantly closes his eyes. “I know! I’m so excited!”

  “I’m really happy for you.” And I am. Even though I don’t know her at all. I redden when I realize I don’t even know her name.

  Just as I open my mouth to ask her, she says, “My name’s Sasha, what’s yours?”

  “Rory,” I reply.

  We smile kind of awkwardly at each other, and then I look away and glance around the house. It’s pretty much the opposite of Natalie’s, even though it’s only a few houses away. The furniture looks very well lived in. Cardboard boxes line the hallway, and books and toys are scattered around in piles and stacks. “We just moved in last month,” she explains. “Still working on unpacking.”

  “Where did you move from?”

  “Up north,” she says. “It’s very different here. At first it was kind of hard on all of us, but things have gotten better. Hey, I have to finish making dinner. Do you want to come into the kitchen with me? You can call from there.”

  “Sure.” I follow her down the hall, careful not to knock into any of the boxes. She hands me a phone, and I dial Mom’s cell.

  “Hello?” she says hesitantly. Clearly she doesn’t recognize the number.

  I quickly fill her in and ask her to pick me up here.

  “I don’t like the idea of you hanging out at a stranger’s house, Rory.”

  “She’s not a stranger. I’m fine, trust me.”

  “Well, okay. I’m on my way.”

  I put the phone back on the counter and lean against it. “My mom’s a little, uh, overprotective.”

  Sasha nods knowingly. “My mom’s a worrier, too. She told me once she just wants to keep us from getting hurt, you know, because life’s not always easy.”

  I nod. “I’ve definitely found that out lately.”

  Sasha starts pulling vegetables out of the refrigerator. I can’t help thinking how she seems really young to be making dinner for her whole family. I can’t even make coffee!

  As if reading my mind, she says, “My brothers and sister and I take turns making dinner. We had to learn really young because my mom usually has to work late. She’ll be home on time tonight, though. Our great-aunt is coming.”

  I watch as she sets the oven to 400 and sticks some potatoes in to bake.

  “So,” she says, stacking plates on the table. “I guess you were at a party? I mean, you look kind of dressed up.”

  I look down my dress and blush. “Yeah, I was. My first boy-girl party, actually.” Then I blush harder. Why did I say that? I must seem so young and inexperienced to her.

  But she just grins and says, “Well, you look very nice. I’m sure a lot of boys noticed.”

  I shake my head. “Trust me, people don’t notice me unless I’m disfigured in some way.”

  “Are you disfigured a lot?”

  “More than you’d think.”

  She laughs, opens a can of corn, and pours it into a pot on the stove. She turns the burner on, and a flame jumps, then quickly settles down. I’ve never seen a stove with a real flame before. I wonder if I should volunteer to help, but honestly I’m afraid I’ll just mess things up.

  “So why do you think people don’t notice you?” she asks, stirring the corn as it heats up.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s always been that way. I guess I don’t make much of an impression on people.”

  At that moment, the front door opens and footsteps and laughter fill the front room. Sasha turns the heat off from under the corn. “Come on. I want you to meet my family. I should warn you, there are a lot of them!”

  I swing my purse onto my shoulder and follow her out of the kitchen. When we turn the corner into the room, Sasha says, “Everyone, this is Rory. She’s the girl who helped me get into the ballet audition!”

  Five dark heads and one gray one turn in our direction. All talking instantly halts. “You!” a teenage boy exclaims. “You’re the girl with the dollar at the pet store!”

  I stare at him, shocked, as the memory floats back to me.

  “No!” a younger boy declares, pushing to the front of the group. “She’s the girl who helped me find my class the first day of school when no one else would!”

  “Rory found Green Eggs and Ham for me!” the littlest boy says.

  The grandmother smiles. “This is the young lady who caught Bandit when he got away from me.”

  Sasha’s head is turning from person to person, mouth hanging open, just like mine. Then her mom steps forward. “You helped me get my job at the bookstore.”

  I stare as recognition slowly dawns. I step backward, almost stumbling, unable to absorb this.

  “Rory,” a girl’s voice utters, cracking with emotion. “Because of you, I got to kiss Jake Harrison when you could have done it yourself. Instead he wound up hitting you in the face with a locker!” Kira throws her arms around me. “I’ll never be able to repay you as long as I live, but I’m going to try.” It’s a good thing she’s holding on so tight, because I really might fall right over.

  Then everyone starts talking and laughing at once and shaking my hand and formally introducing themselves. “Well, Rory,” Sasha says, her eyes bright. “What was that you were saying about not making an impression on people?”

  The doorbell rings. “That must be Auntie,” Kira says, untangling herself from me and running to the door. She returns a few seconds later, dragging a short, stocky woman with white hair behind her. “Auntie, I want you to meet Rory. Wait till you hear what she did!”

  The old woman smiles, a long, slow smile. And when she does, a birthmark shaped like a duck wiggles on her cheek.

  Chapter Seventeen

  This time I really do stagger backward. Luckily Sasha is standing there to catch me. “It’s you!” I exclaim. “How … what … how …”

  Sasha leads me over to the couch, which I practically fall into.

  “You know Auntie Angelina, too?” Kir
a says, hurrying to sit next to me. “You must have done something great for her, too, like you did for the rest of us!”

  Angelina smiles and sits down in a chair opposite me. “Actually, I was the one to rescue Rory. From a drainpipe, if memory serves.”

  “You sure get around,” Sasha says, shaking her head in wonder.

  So many words are trying to tumble out of my mouth that I can’t seem to put them in the right order. Finally I’m able to ask, “What did you mean that day, when you said I wouldn’t get what I want until I see what I need?”

  “Did I say that?” she says, looking around innocently.

  “Auntie!” Sasha’s mom admonishes. “You didn’t fill this girl’s head with any of your crazy predictions, did you?”

  “Would I do that?” Angelina asks. Then she winks at me. “I think you already know what I meant, don’t you?”

  I shake my head and lean back against the cushions. I really don’t know.

  “I’ll give you a hint. It’s right here in this room.”

  I sit up again, taking in the shining faces in the room, and I feel like something is starting to wiggle its way into my head.

  Angelina continues, “Lots of people can look at a situation, but you see it.”

  “And looking is different than seeing,” I hear myself say.

  Angelina claps her hands. “Exactly! Truly being able to see the needs of others around you, that is a rare gift. Only when you embrace it will you start to learn who you are, and begin going after what you really want.”

  “But what do I really want?”

  She shrugs. “That’s for you to figure out as you go along.” She leans forward and whispers, “You’re already on your way.”

  I think about the chance to kiss Jake, and how I gave it to someone else without fighting for it because I couldn’t even admit to myself that I didn’t feel ready to do it. And then today at the party. Normally I would never have turned away from something I was finally allowed to do, something my friends were doing. But I did. I did turn away. And it led me here. How many of the things on my list had I really wanted to do, and how many did I just think I was supposed to do because I was now a certain age? And once I’d done them, how many did I really want to do again? I have a lot to think about.