by Seven Steps
I glanced again at Rose, hoping she’d say something, anything, but she just fiddled with her fingers, her watery eyes glued to the hospital bed.
Becks seemed farther in the doorway than he’d been before, like he was barely able to keep himself from running out of it.
“Thank you for coming,” Mrs. Levy said. “It means a lot.”
“We’ll be back to visit,” I said. “And to check how Kat’s done. We promise.”
She gave me a final hug, and the three of us left.
Rose walked way ahead as if she couldn’t get to the car fast enough. It left Becks and me to walk together at a more normal pace.
He looked shell-shocked. Like he was reliving a nightmare.
I knew the feeling. Seeing sickness and death was hard on everyone. Especially on kids our age. It made us realize we weren’t invincible. It’s a hard concept when you have so much life ahead of you.
I put my hand on his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
I didn’t know what I expected. For him to break down? To thank me for my concern? Whatever it was, I didn’t expect him to roughly shake me off and take two steps away from me.
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice as rough as his shoulder had been a moment ago.
My feet glued to the ground. For a moment, all I could do was watch as he increased his pace, quickly catching up with Rose at the front door.
What was that about? I was trying to be nice and he acted like I’d just burned him with acid.
Becks used to love hugs. We’d hug all the time. And now, he was like a block of ice.
What had happened to my friend?
By the time I reached the car, it was already in drive, and no sooner had my door closed than Becks pulled out of the parking spot and started home.
When we reached our first light, Rose finally spoke again.
“I can’t believe that was her,” she said softly. “I saw her last week at Sherri Shepherdson’s pool party. She convinced me to go as her personal guest. We spent most of the day tanning on lounge chairs. She leant me her headphones.” Her voice cracked and she put her hand over her mouth, crying softly.
I felt helpless. The car was moving, so I couldn’t hold or comfort my sister. All I could do was watch as she silently broke down. It felt like my heart was ripping out of my chest.
“It’s okay,” I said, reaching back and placing a hand on her knee. “She’ll be okay.”
“How do you know?” Rose asked. “She could... what if she...”
“You can’t think like that. You have to have hope. We have to send Kat all the hope we can.”
Rose looked up at me with watery eyes. “What if hope isn’t enough?”
“Then we make sure this carnival is the best the school has ever seen. We give as much as we can and make sure that everyone else gives too. It’s the best we can do for her right now.”
Rose sniffled and nodded. She wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. But I could tell she was at least a little eased that she didn’t have to sit idly by and do nothing. This carnival was a way for us to do something.
What if other students felt this way? Helpless? Hurting? People don’t realize that when you’re a teenager, you’re constantly in a state of frustration. You can’t make your own decisions about things, and it’s almost impossible to help when you see injustice around you. This carnival was a chance that we had to do something, and I was determined to make sure everyone knew that.
I turned around in my seat. I wanted to check on Becks, to see if he was okay, but that didn’t go over so well for me last time. I decided it was best for me to keep my distance. If he wanted to be an emotional hermit crab, then good for him. He could live his life that way, but I couldn’t. Not anymore.
Kat needed me.
Mrs. Levy needed me.
I’d made a promise to them, and I was determined to make them proud.
The car remained silent as we pulled up to the house. Rose was the first to jump out, leaving Becks and me alone. I sighed and put my hand on the door handle, but something stopped me.
If me and Becks were going to work together, then I had to diffuse the tension between us, even if it wasn’t totally my fault.
So, I swallowed my pride and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry if my touching you earlier was inappropriate.”
There. I’d said it.
I sat there, waiting for him to reply. It took a long time, but finally, he did.
“Just forget it. It’s not you.”
I felt my brows pull into a frown.
It wasn’t exactly the conversation I was hoping for.
What had happened to him? was that how he lived his life now? Without touch? If that were true, then no wonder he was miserable all the time. If I had to live my life without my family’s warm hugs and cuddles, I’d be miserable too.
An ache tore through my heart.
Was there something I could do for him? Something I should be doing? Questions I should be asking? I didn’t know, and I didn’t feel right asking him.
Instead, I simply said okay and pulled open the car door.
“Lil?”
“Yeah.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re doing this. Not just for Kat, but for yourself.”
It was the nicest thing he’d said to me since he’d been back.
“Thanks.”
“Night, Lil.”
“Night, Becks.”
Then I closed the door and walked up my driveway.
I’d been feeling so much anger toward Becks since he got back. And now, that anger was mixed with every other emotion, including this new ache of... what... empathy? Sadness? Concern?
I knew there was something going on with him, something deep and maybe even painful, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. And it wasn’t like he had a best friend I could pry it out of.
So, for now, all I could do was watch and wait.
And that was the most frustrating thing of all.
9
With our sports theme firmly in mind, Calla, Rose, Becks, and I presented our ideas to Mr. Davies before first period the following day.
We surrounded him while he sat behind a large oak desk, decorated with pictures of his wife and two sons on beaches, and standing with skis.
“Let’s start with the location,” Mr. Davies said. “For the past several years the carnival has been in the school gym. I take it we’ll continue that tradition.”
I looked at Calla, Becks, and Rose, but they were all looking back at me. It was an odd feeling to have Rose look to me for something, when I’d looked to her for everything for so long.
“Yes,” I said. “We’ll have it at the gym.”
“Great. Moving on.” He checked something on a sheet of paper. “Have you settled on a date?”
We had. This morning in the car. Just as we were filling Calla in on the details of the hospital.
“Yes. The Friday before Thanksgiving break. That gives us three months to plan out everything.”
He reached over and picked up a black leather book, searching for something. After turning a few pages, he put the black book down again.
“That date works.”
I inwardly cheered as he checked off another item on his list. This was going better than I expected.
“Now, the rules.”
For the next few minutes, Mr. Davies proceeded to read off a huge list of rules and regulations, including that there was to be no carnival type rides, no bounce houses, no alcohol, and we’d need at least one chaperone per five students.”
Once we agreed to those, he checked off another item on his list.
“Excellent. And now, to the last item, the budget.”
“Yes, I was going to ask you,” I said, shuffling the multitude of papers I had in my lap. “What exactly is my budget?”
He smiled, wide and toothy, like a car dealer about to sell me a lemon.
“As little as po
ssible,” he said.
I froze.
Did he just say what I thought he said?
“Excuse me?”
“The most I can accommodate you with is five hundred dollars. After that, you’ll have to find the money on your own.”
“Seriously?” I gasped. “Five hundred dollars won’t even cover food.”
“This is the budget that has always been allotted to the annual carnival,” he said. “Sherri made it work. I expect you all to do the same. After all, you did ask to run it.”
“But not without resources,” I said. “Mr. Davies, surely you can see that we are going to need more than five hundred dollars to put this carnival together. The cost of the—”
“Uh-oh.” Mr. Davies looked at his watch, his face drawn in both concern… and relief. “It’s almost time for first period. I’ve got to get outside.”
What? He couldn’t just drop that bomb on us and leave. It was unfair.
“But, Principal Davies, isn’t there anything else we can do about the budget? I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s—”
“Unfortunately, that is all the school is able to offer at this time.” He stood and walked to the door, opening it for us. “I suggest you spend the funds wisely. And good luck. This will be a truly noble venture.”
Noble? How noble could this be? We didn’t have any money to do anything with!
With heavy hearts, we stood and walked out of Principal Davies’ office, re-forming our committee around my locker.
“This a so unfair,” Calla said. “How can we put together a carnival with no money?”
“Maybe we can raise the money,” Rose said. “We could have a bake sale? I can make my famous brownies.”
“It won’t be enough,” I said. “We are going to need way more than five hundred dollars and fifty bucks from a bake sale.”
“Well, we have to do something,” Calla said. “If we don’t, it’s not just us we have to worry about. It’s Kat and her mom.”
“And the entire school,” Rose said. “The carnival is a tradition. Everyone looks forward to it. If we don’t put it on, we’ll never be able to show our faces for the rest of senior year.”
We fell into silence, the weight of it pushing my spirits down into the floor.
This was what I was afraid of. I’d built up this whole thing in my mind and now look at us. We didn’t even have enough money to run the carnival, let alone give anything to Kat.
I knew I couldn’t do this.
I just knew it.
“Well, well, well.”
We looked up to see Sherri Shepherdson, Regina Winstead, and Laura Hodgkin walking up to us. Sherri’s arms were folded across her chest, and the look of superiority in her dark eyes and round face made my blood boil.
“Look who we have here. The people who think they can run the fall carnival on their own. How quaint.”
“What do you want, Sherri?” Rose asked, squaring her shoulders and standing tall.
“Me? Nothing, really. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be running the carnival this year, so you can just give up on your little dream to be cool. It’s over.”
“No, actually we’re running the carnival,” Rose said. “Principal Davies already agreed to it.”
Sherri scoffed. “Did he tell you the budget?”
By the look on her face, I could tell she knew we knew. She laughed.
“You really think you can put the carnival on for five hundred dollars? It’s a joke.”
“We know,” I said.
“I know you know. That’s why I had my dad bankroll it every year. But, you all don’t have those kind of connections, do you?”
Sherri Shepherdson’s dad was the owner of the Long Island Blue Fins, our local football team. He also had a string of very successful car dealerships. Needless to say, Sherri’s dad had more money than all of our families combined.
I felt even worse. If Sherri needed that kind of money to throw the carnival, what hope did we have?
“Give it up,” she said. “Just go talk to Davies and tell him you’re in over your head, which you are, and that you’re relinquishing carnival planning privileges back to me. Where they belong.”
“Not a chance,” Rose said. “We will put this carnival on. And then you’ll be eating your words.”
Sherri tipped her head to the side. “Good luck, losers. I’ll be waiting to pick up the pieces when you fail.”
She threw her head back and joined Regina and Laura for a hearty laugh before she walked away.
Rose’s cheeks turned pink. “I can’t stand her. She thinks she runs everything because she has money. It’s elitist and infuriating.” She put her hands on my shoulder, gazing deep into my eyes. “We have to come up with a way to pull this carnival off. You have to think of a way.”
The pressure in my chest built to almost painful levels.
Rose and Calla were looking at me for answers, when I had no idea what to do.
My feet itched to run to Davies’ office and tell him I’d given up when Becks’ voice came from behind me.
“What if we have sponsors?” he said.
The three of us turned to him.
“Sponsors?” I asked.
“Yeah. Sponsors. Look, no one is going to come to this carnival and donate to Kat if it’s not fantastic, and we can’t make it fantastic without money. So, we get sponsors. We go to local businesses and ask them to give us money for the carnival.”
“Why would they give us money?” Calla asked.
“Simple. For marketing. They give us cash, we give out their business cards, swag, hats, T-shirts. Businesses go crazy over any sort of advertising.”
There was a light in his eyes. A gleam I hadn’t seen before. He was enjoying this.
“So, we’re just going to call businesses and ask them to give us free stuff and free money?” I asked.
Becks smiled. “Exactly.” He must’ve seen our disbelieving expressions because he sighed and took a step back. “Look, after school we’ll go around to some businesses and see what they say. We’ll make this work. Trust me.”
Trust him. I barely knew him anymore. But, so far, he’d been the only one to come up with a feasible plan. We had to at least try it, right?
The first period bell rang, and our small group split up.
I should have been focused on following Becks and Calla to first period English. But my mind was still on Becks’ words.
Could this work?
It had to.
Because if it didn’t, I had no idea what we were going to do.
10
After school, we drove to Downtown Bloom, where most of the town’s businesses were located.
Downtown stretched four or five blocks in each direction, and, in the center of it all, was a huge green field. I’d come down here with my family every summer to watch stage plays and concerts. We didn’t get any big name bands here, but it was still nice to hang out under the stars with a cold soda and my family around me.
Bloom Church on the Rock sat strong and steady across from the green. Most of the families in town went there, including mine and Calla’s. Becks’ family went there too, though I hadn’t seen him at any services since he’d been back.
We started our mission at Mrs. Jackson’s Pancake House, a small building next to the church. It was like Bloom’s version of IHOP. On Sundays, it was nearly impossible to get a seat in here. She’d expanded the restaurant twice and was now looking to open a second location at the opposite end of town. The residents of Bloom loved their pancakes.
Rose pushed the door open, and a bell rang above us.
The sweet scent of maple syrup and sugary coffee made my mouth immediately water.
The server, Cecily Dees, greeted us with a smile. My parents did the floral arrangements for her wedding last year. She’d asked for peonies in her bouquet. Now, she smiled at us, her round belly pulling her white, dotted uniform taut.
“Rose and Lily McAlister, Calla Rogers, and B
eckett Hayes,” she said.
Cecily always called everyone by their first and last name. She probably thought it made her look like she took a personal interest in them, but I found it kind of annoying. Come to think of it, a lot of people in Bloom greeted people by their first and last names. Maybe it was just a Bloom thing.
“Welcome home, Beckett,” she said.
“It’s Becks now, actually,” he replied.
I swallowed back an irritated groan. He was really sensitive about his name. Maybe he should wear a T-shirt with Becks on it in big, glittery letters so he wouldn’t have to have this conversation with everyone he met. It wasn’t their fault he’d gone away for years and come back with a new identity.
Cecily nodded slowly but, before she could say any more about it, Rose stepped forward.
“Hey, Cecily. We’re throwing a fundraising carnival for Kat Levy. We were hoping to get some businesses to donate to it.”
Cecily’s wide eyes instantly drooped at the corners. “Of course I’ll donate something for that poor girl. She was so young and full of pep.” She wiped at the corner of her eye, but I could tell it was just for show. Cecily was dramatic like that. Maybe that’s why she’d been the lead actress at the Bloom Playhouse for the last three years. “When’s the carnival?”
“November,” Rose said quickly. “And all proceeds will go to Kat’s mom for her medical bills.”
Wow. Rose was really good at this. It was probably because she was such a people person.
I, on the other hand, was not.
Talking in front of people was literally the most terrifying thing I could think of. I got physically sick when I had to present projects in front of the class. I rarely raised my hand in school, though I knew the answers most of the time. If I’d spoken to Cecily, I would’ve stumbled over my words and probably had a panic attack. Just thinking of it made my heart race.
“What a noble response to such a tragic circumstance,” Cecily said. I was pretty sure I’d heard her say that in a play she was in last summer, but I didn’t mention it. “Wait here. Let me grab my purse.”