Notes on a Near-Life Experience

by Olivia Birdsall

  “Hey, Kik,” Al yells after her, “I voted for you,” at which she sobs loudly.

  “So intense,” Al says to no one in particular.

  I am a princess, I think. I'm going to have a perfect prom.

  “Mia, bathroom,” Haley orders.

  “We're going to go freshen up before pictures,” I tell Julian.

  We follow a stream of guyless girls to the restroom.

  In the bathroom, Haley grabs my shoulders; her hands are ice cold. “Mia, your brother is drunk. If he gets caught at the prom drunk, he could get kicked out of school.”

  “He can't be drunk; the waiter wouldn't bring us any wine, remember?”

  “Hello. Earth to Mia. He was drunk by the time he got to my house. And I have a feeling he's been drinking all night. He went to the bathroom three times during dinner. I think he has a flask or some minibottles with him.”

  I remember the canteen I found. “Well, what am I supposed to do?” I ask her. This is not happening. I do not have to deal with this. This is my prom. It's going to be perfect. My drunk brother is going to behave himself and everything is going to work out.

  “I don't know. Your dad and the Slut are chaperoning, right?”

  “Actually, she might not be a total slut—she liked my dress, which is more than I can say for my mom….”

  “Stay with me, here. Now isn't the ideal time to reevaluate your opinion of your dad's girlfriend. We need to find your dad and ask him to take Allen home.”

  “Allen will not go anywhere with my dad. And my dad

  would completely flip out if he found out about Al.” “Then we need to take him home.” “If we take him home, we'll miss the whole dance. Let's go

  back out there, see how he's doing, and ask him what he wants to do.”

  “All right. But we really have to come up with a plan. You can't just take off with Julian and leave me with your drunk brother.”

  “I promise we'll make a plan.”

  When we get back to the dance, Al and Julian are in line for pictures. The second we join them, Haley nudges me. I blurt out, “Al, listen… Haley thinks you're drunk.” Haley's jaw drops. “And I do, too,” I add. “Allen! Mia!” My dad's voice booms. We turn and see my dad and Paloma making their way toward us, waving their arms wildly. “Shit,” Allen says. “We've been looking all over for you,” Dad tells us. “We haven't been looking anywhere for you,” Al tells him. Please, not here. Not now. I am a princess. “Mia, Haley, you look beautiful,” Dad tells us, without acknowledging Allen's comment. “Thanks,” we chorus. I look at Paloma so I can return the compliment, and I notice her dress. She is wearing my dress, just like in my dream.

  Well, not my dress exactly, but a red version of my dress. I stare. She has great boobs.

  “Actually, Dad, I was just kidding when I said we weren't looking for you,” Allen says. “We just didn't expect you to show up on time. Like usual.”

  Dad looks hard at Allen, his face shocked, angry. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Since I was born.”

  “Allen, have you been drinking alcohol tonight?” Dad demands.

  “You're up,” the photographer calls to us.

  “Showtime,” Allen says, herding us over to the photo corner.

  “This discussion is not over,” Dad calls after us.

  The photographer poses the four of us, counts to three, snaps a picture, and moves Allen and Haley off to the side so that he can take a picture of just Julian and me. He tells Julian to pick me up, like he's carrying me over the threshold or something. Julian pretends that I am too heavy to lift, and the photographer snaps the picture as he is pretending to grimace in pain while he lifts me off the ground.

  “Next couple.” The photographer motions to Allen and Haley.

  “Wait,” I plead. “Can't we take another picture? He was joking around and making a weird face.”

  “Sorry,” says the photographer, “better luck next time. Next, please.”

  Allen drags Haley over and picks her up, like Julian did for our picture. “We're ready,” he tells the photographer. Haley looks completely uncomfortable. “Whoops, that was the end of the roll,” the photographer tells them. “You'll have to wait a minute while I reload the camera.” Allen staggers a bit. “Al, put me down until he's ready, okay?” Haley begs. “No, I've got you,” he tells her. He looks a little pale. “All right, all set,” says the photographer. “One… two… three.” As he snaps the photo, Allen falls to his knees and vomits all over Haley.

  Dad has been watching the whole scene from across the room. When Allen pukes, Dad grabs Paloma's arm and heads for the door.

  “Well, so much for being an involved parent,” I say to no one in particular. “When the going gets tough, I guess my dad gets going. Great.”

  Instead of consulting Allen about a plan, we decide to take matters into our own hands. Julian helps Allen out to the car while Haley and I head back to the bathroom to clean the puke off her dress.

  “I'm so sorry,” I tell her over and over again.

  “Mia, just shut up,” she says.

  My cell phone rings. It's Dad.

  “Where are you? Paloma and I went to get the car, to get Alout of there, and when I came back in, you were already gone.”

  “Al's waiting in our car with Julian, and Haley and I are cleaning up.”

  “I think it's best if I discuss this with your brother and take him home.”

  “Dad, we've got it,” I say, and hang up. I turn off my phone; I refuse to be Dad and Allen's relationship counselor.

  When Haley and I get to the car, we find Kiki talking to Allen and Julian.

  “He needs to eat something and stay awake,” she says.

  “If he eats anything, he'll just puke,” I tell her.

  “If he eats, the food will help absorb the alcohol in his stomach,” she says.

  “How do you know?”

  “It's what I do for my mom,” she says quietly. “Believe me, I know.”

  “Oh.”

  “Just keep him awake, okay?” Kiki asks if she can come with us, but Julian says there isn't enough room in the car.

  We find some crackers on a table and feed them to Al on the way home. By the time we get home, just after ten O'clock, Allen has puked twice more (on the side of the road, thankfully) and passed out in the backseat of Julian's mom's car. We help him inside and find Mom, Dad, Keatie, and Paloma sitting around the living room table. Mom has been crying, and when she sees us at the door, she runs over to open it for us and help Allen in.

  Allen wakes up. “Mom,” he tells her, “I got sick.”

  “I know,” she says. “I see.” She looks at Haley. “You poor thing.”

  Haley smiles weakly.

  “I'll take you home,” Julian offers.

  I look at Haley; she looks away. “I'm really, really sorry,” I tell her. “I know,” she says. “We'll talk tomorrow.” Julian and Haley leave, and Mom and Dad take Al to his room to talk, leaving Keatie, Paloma, and me in the living room. Keatie gets out her violin and plays “Turkey in the Straw” for us over and over again.

  “That's all I can do,” she finally says. “My fingers hurt.” We sit in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before I

  realize that Keatie has fallen asleep. I nudge her gently. “C'mon, Keater, it's time for bed.” I help her to her room and into bed. “Mia,” she mumbles, half-asleep. “Is Allen bad now?” “What?” I ask her, confused. “Is he bad? Is he going to get kicked out of school and put in jail?” “He's in trouble, Keatie, but I don't think he's going to jail. He isn't bad, he's just sad, I think.” “But we're all sad, right? Me and you and Mom and Dad. We all got sad.” “Yeah.” I can barely speak. It's that simple, I guess. We all

  got sad. “But don't worry, Mia. We can't be sad forever. It's no fun.” I sit with Keatie until she falls asleep. When I return to the living room, Julian and Paloma are playing Uno. Julian and I go outside when the game is over.

  “S
ome prom, huh,” Julian says, putting his arms around my waist and pulling me to him.

  “Yeah. Pretty memorable.”

  “Look, Meems, I'm sorry about what happened. I thought he'd sober up by the time we got to the dance.”

  “Hey, you were just trying to make everybody happy. It's not your fault.”

  “Yeah, but…I should've known.…”

  “Let's not talk about it. Please.”

  I suddenly feel tired.

  “I think not talking about things is what got everyone into this situation in the first place.”

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  He kisses me. A good one. A real prom night kind of kiss. And then, too soon, it's over.

  “I like you a lot,” he says. “Thanks for being my date. Thank you for wearing that dress.”

  “Thank you for noticing,” I tell him.

  “I should've said something sooner…. I was so preoccupied with Al….”

  “Yeah.” I yawn. “We all should have said something sooner.”

  Julian looks uncomfortable. “It's late. We should call it a night.” He kisses me on the forehead, squeezes my hand. “I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “If I make it through the night.”

  “You'll be okay.”

  “Good night.”

  I say good night to Paloma and walk down the hall toward my room. When I pass Al's room, I expect to hear an argument in progress, but they are talking in soft voices. Without thinking, I open the door and walk in.

  “Hi,” I say. “I just wanted to say good night.”

  “Wait,” Mom says.

  “Can't I please just go to bed and try to forget this night?”

  “In a minute,” she says. She looks at me for a few seconds.

  “You're not wearing the dress we bought.” Dad looks confused. “I'm wearing the dress I wanted to wear,” I say. “You look beautiful, Mia. Too grown-up, but beautiful.” “Thanks.” “But that doesn't mean it's okay to go sneaking around

  and ignoring my rules. There's been too much of that going on in this house.” Dad pipes up, “Paloma liked Mia's dress so much, she

  bought it in red.” “Yes, she did,” I say. “When did Paloma see your dress?” Mom asks. “A story for another day,” I tell her. “I'm going to bed.” “Okay. But we have a lot to discuss; tomorrow will be a big

  day,” Mom says. “I can hardly wait,” I tell her. “Night, Meezer,” Allen groans from his bed. “Night, Al.”

  THE NEXT MORNING, WE HAVE A FAMILY COUNCIL, JUST LIKE some family on a cheesy TV show. Even Dad comes. Without Paloma. For a few minutes, I think Mom and Dad are going to tell us they aren't getting divorced anymore. They don't.

  Instead, they tell us that we'll be going to therapy as a family for a while.

  “We'd like you to help us out,” Dad says. “We'd like to know what you think we can do to make it so that we don't have more nights like last night.”

  “I guess I need to learn to hold my alcohol,” Allen says.

  “Allen. This is not a joke,” my dad warns him.

  “Oh, actually, I think it is a joke. When the shit hits the fan, we're suddenly a family again? Is that how it works? This is new. When you guys decided to get a divorce, did you talk to us? Did we have a council about how to fix you two? So now that you've screwed us up, you want to fix things? Why didn't you try that before?”

  “We did try it.” My mom's voice cracks. “We decided the best way to fix things between us was to split up. I'm sorry that we left you out of that decision. We should have been more honest with you about what was going on, but we wanted to make things as easy as possible for you.”

  “Well, it hasn't been easy,” he says, and he begins to cry. When Keatie sees this, she begins to sob; then my mom does; then I do. My dad looks on as if he wants to cry but can't find the tears.

  Our family council ends in a loud, wet mess. But nobody is hurt, there is no vomit, there are no severed limbs. The fact that I am comforted by this is a little depressing. But at this point, I'll take what I can get.

  POST–FAMILY COUNCIL, I GO TO HALEY'S.

  When she opens the door, I blurt out, “Mike Hickenlooper likes you and he wanted to take you to prom.”

  Haley doesn't look as surprised as I thought she would. “I know,” she says.

  “You do?”

  “Come in, you dork.”

  We go to Haley's room, sit on her bed, and talk, kinda like we used to, only now things are a little weird between us.

  “How did you know?” I ask her.

  “Well, I didn't know for sure, but I figured when he started calling…”

  “Oh… yeah.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Julian told me.”

  “Why didn't you say anything?”

  I play with a loose thread on her quilt, unsure of how to answer. I can't come up with anything but the truth. “Because I wanted you to go to the prom with Al, so that I could have my dream prom night and not have to worry about stuff.”

  Haley nods and is quiet for a while.

  “I'm sorry,” I tell her. “Really.”

  “Mia, the thing is, the prom isn't a big deal, really. I can go out with Mike whenever. It's just that …” She looks at me. Her eyes are red and watery. “I need you sometimes, Meems. You know? I need to talk. I need to be listened to. I know you think I'm this superhuman who doesn't have any problems, and maybe I don't have any that are as big as yours, but I still have some. And lately, you've just kind of vanished, you know? You disappeared.”

  “I didn't mean to,” I tell her. “But I didn't know what else to do.” “Well, you can't just stop talking and try to hide every

  thing.” “I know.” “This is going to sound stupid, I know, but you really hurt

  my feelings. Really.”

  At that moment, it feels like we are kids again, for some reason. Like we are just learning how to be friends. Somehow, while I was working so hard to protect myself and my feelings, I forgot about her feelings, and probably about everyone else's.

  I think about my mom and dad and what my mom said about my dad's being a ghost, and I wonder if he was scared, too. If he forgot about everyone else and then just never remembered.

  TEN DAYS LATER WE ARE IN LISZ'S OFFICE. ALL OF US: ME, MOM, Dad, Keatie, and Allen.

  “So,” Lisz starts, “I think the first thing we should do is discuss why each of you is here, what you hope to accomplish through attending therapy as a family.”

  No one says anything.

  “Why don't we start with the parents? Maggie? Russ? Would one of you care to begin?”

  They start to speak at the same time.

  “Well, I think we should start with…”

  “I'd like to know what's been going on…”

  “Russ, I hardly think you should be the one to start, given the fact that you spend maybe an hour a week with the kids.”

  “This from the woman who didn't even know what her daughter was wearing to her prom?”

  And so it begins. The healing process.

  “Why don't I spend a few minutes with just the two of you first, before we bring the children into the discussion?” Lisz says.

  “Great idea,” says Allen, already out of his chair.

  “I want to stay,” Keatie says.

  “See you guys later,” I say, pushing Keatie toward the door.

  We wait and wait, but Lisz does not call us back in. When the hour is over, my parents come out, looking as if nothing has changed between them.

  “We'll definitely be meeting all together next week,” Lisz tells us.

  “I can't wait,” I mutter.

  “And you'll still have your regular Thursday appointments, too,” she says, like she's telling me I just won fifty thousand dollars on Jeopardy!

  And the weird thing is, I'm relieved when she says this. It means it's okay if I don't have everything figured out. It means I am not a ghost, a serial killer, a head-on collision.

>   About the Author

  Olivia Birdsall grew up in Orange County, California, and Salt Lake City, Utah, and is the second of ten children. She lives in New York City, where she teaches writing at New York University and in public schools. Olivia spends her free time dreaming about exotic vacations, baked goods, and rock stardom. Notes on a Near-Life Experience is her first novel.

  Published by Delacorte Press

  an imprint of Random House Children's Books

  a division of Random House, Inc.

  New York

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product ofthe author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2007 by Olivia Birdsall

  All rights reserved.

  Delacorte Press and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  www.randomhouse.com/teens

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at

  www.randomhouse.com/teens

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Birdsall, Olivia.

  Notes on a near-life experience / by Olivia Birdsall.

  p. cm.

  Summary: Fifteen-year-old Mia feels like a ghost watching her own life when her parents'

  arguments escalate into a separation, triggering counseling sessions, strange behavior in her

  brother and sister, and a new connection with her brother's best friend.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-49711-6

  [1. Family problems—Fiction.2. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. 3. Divorce—Fiction.

  4. Psychotherapy—Fiction.5. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. 6. California—Fiction.]

  I. Title.

  PZ7.B51198Not 2007

  [Fic]—dc22

  2006020439

  v3.0