by Crewe, Megan
Text copyright © 2012 by Megan Crewe
All rights reserved. Published by Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Hyperion, 114 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10011-5690.
ISBN 978-1-4231-5322-1
Visit www.disneyhyperion.com
Table of Contents
Sept 2
Sept 4
Sept 5
Sept 8
Sept 9
Sept 10
Sept 11
Sept 11 (Later)
Sept 12
Sept 14
Sept 15
Sept 17
Sept 18
Sept 20
Sept 21
Sept 22
Sept 22 (Later)
Sept 23
Sept 24
Sept 25
Sept 26
Sept 27
Sept 29
Sept 30
Oct 1
Oct 3
Oct 4
Oct 6
Oct 7
Oct 9
Oct 10
Oct 12
Oct 13
Oct 13 (Later)
Oct 15
Oct 16
Oct 17
Oct 18
Oct 19
Oct 21
Oct 22
Oct 23
Oct 24
Oct 25
Oct 26
Oct 27
Nov 10
Nov 10 (Later)
Nov 11
Nov 13
Nov 14
Nov 15
Nov 16
Nov 17
Nov 18
Nov 19
Nov 20
Nov 21
Nov 22
Nov 23
Nov 26
Nov 27
Nov 28
Nov 29
Nov 30
Dec 1
Dec 3
Dec 5
Dec 6
Dec 7
Dec 8
Dec 10
Dec 12
Dec 14
Dec 15
Dec 17
Dec 18
Dec 19
Dec 20
Dec 21
Dec 22
Dec 23
Acknowledgments
For anyone who’s ever fallen, regardless how far
Leo,
It’s about six hours since you left the island. The way things have been, I know you wouldn’t have expected me to come to see you off, but I keep thinking about how you waved and waved from the dock five years ago, when I was leaving for Toronto.
While the ferry was carrying you to the mainland, I was on West Beach with Mackenzie and Rachel. Mackenzie had decided we should have one last summer swim before school starts tomorrow, but the breeze was so chilly, none of us ended up wanting to go in the water. So we just walked on the sand, talking and speculating about how junior year will go.
The summer vacationers have all left, so no one was on the beach except for us and a few families having a barbecue by the rocks. I could see the white shape of the ferry getting smaller as it crossed the strait, and the knot in my stomach got tighter and tighter.
Mackenzie started gushing about her “awesome” summer in L.A. and the hot nightspots she’d gotten into, and Rachel and I mostly just nodded in the right places, like usual. Not that I mind. At one point Mackenzie turned to me and said, “Because the big city clubs are the best, aren’t they, Kaelyn?” and all I could say was “Um, I guess,” because I never actually went clubbing in Toronto.
If she knew I spent most of my time there at the zoo or the vet clinic near our house, not shopping and partying, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have glommed on to me the second I moved back last spring. But I haven’t gone out of my way to correct her. It’s nice having people to hang out with like this, even if it’s sort of under false pretenses. I was so focused on getting by on my own in the city, I didn’t realize how much I missed being with friends.
And it was only today I realized how much I’ve missed you.
By the time the ferry was out of view, the spray from the waves was making us shiver. We went up to the grassy stretch by the road, and Mackenzie almost stepped on a dead bird. She yelped and hopped around, shaking her foot like germs might have leaped up onto it. Rachel couldn’t stop laughing.
The bird was a black-backed gull, and it looked healthy—other than being dead, of course. Its feathers were shiny and I couldn’t see any injuries. Really weird, the way it was lying there, like it’d just dropped out of the sky. I wanted to get a stick and move the body around to take a closer look, except Mackenzie would have completely freaked out.
You wouldn’t have minded, Leo. If I’d been walking on the beach with you, the way we used to, you’d have watched while I checked out the gull, and asked, “Can you tell why it died?” And you would really have wanted to know.
Standing there, looking at the gull while Mackenzie wiggled her foot and Rachel laughed, it hit me harder than ever before. How stupid I’ve been to let one little argument screw things up so much. You were my best friend for as long as I can remember, and it’s been almost two years since I last talked to you.
After a bit, Rachel stopped laughing and said she had to get going. Her mom’s been bugging her to be home more since her dad broke his leg working the trawlers last week. We agreed to meet in the caf tomorrow to compare schedules, and then we headed back into town.
I didn’t go straight home. After Mackenzie and Rachel took off, I wandered past the fisheries and up the path that leads through the pine trees to the cliff where the cormorants nest. It’s so peaceful up there. Standing by the rocky edge, looking at the ocean with the cool wind gusting over me and the gulls coasting overhead, I can imagine what it’s like to fly.
At least, I usually can. Right then I felt as if I had a weight strapped around my waist, holding me down, made up of all the things I should have said to you before you left.
The most important thing is the hardest to admit. You were right. When we moved, I was overwhelmed the moment the taxi drove us away from the airport into the city. The second I walked up to that huge middle school, swarming with kids who’d spent their whole lives around skyscrapers and subways, I was sure I didn’t fit in. So I went off and watched the chimps play in the zoo and fed the kittens in the vet clinic instead of trying to make friends. I probably could have if I’d put in the effort—Drew was at the same school, just a grade higher, and by the end of the first month he was so busy exploring the streets with his classmates, we hardly saw him at home. But sticking to myself was easier. And by the time I got to the even bigger high school, the thought of doing anything else was scary.
You listened to me moan about the city and the kids at school so many times before you finally pointed out that half of the problem was me. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry. But at the time, I felt like you were turning on me. I couldn’t see how right you were until we moved back here.
I figured I’d just fall in with the same people I’d known growing up, but everyone looked at me like I was a stranger. And I was still scared. I didn’t know what to do or what to say, even to you. I’m so out of practice. It’s ridiculous.
But that’s going to change. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to be someone who talks to people in class even if they haven’t talked to me first, and who hangs out in town instead of on cliff tops watching birds. I’m going to keep on being that person until I’m not scared anymore. And I’m going to use this notebook as a journal, to
keep me on track and to practice saying everything I need to say to you, so the first time you come back to see your parents, for Thanksgiving or Christmas, I’ll be able to apologize to your face and see if we can still be friends.
I promise.
You must be settled in at your new school by now, Leo. Taking dance classes with the best teachers and hanging out with other supertalented people. I bet you’re loving every minute.
I’ve been working on the brand-new Kaelyn. I said hi to at least ten different people at school yesterday while we were waiting to get our schedules. Everyone still seems kind of standoffish, like they suspect the me they knew five years ago might have gotten replaced by a pod person while I was in Toronto. I haven’t managed anything other than “Hi” so far. But hey, it’s a start.
Then today, after school, I put my ferrets (Mowat and Fossey) on their leashes and took them to Thompson Park instead of the backyard. I’m not sure anyone on the island has ever seen a pet ferret before, and the thought of people staring at me always made me nervous. But after a few minutes a couple kids came over and started asking all these questions, like “What do they eat?” and “Do they know how to swim?” and it was fun. Mowat and Fossey loved the attention, of course.
Mom came up to my room after I got back. “We’re going to have dinner a bit late,” she said. “There’s an unusual case at the hospital they wanted your father to look at.”
“Unusual how?” I said.
“He didn’t know,” she said. “He called me before he left the research center. But he said he should be home by seven at the latest.”
She hovered in the doorway while I pulled my textbooks out of my backpack. I was starting to wonder what was up when she finally asked, “How are you doing, Kaelyn?”
“I’m good,” I said.
“I know you’ve had a hard time, moving to Toronto and then being uprooted all over again,” she said. “If you ever need to talk, you know I’d be happy to listen, don’t you? That’s what I’m here for.”
Her eyes misted up, probably because she was thinking about Nana—about Nana having the stroke and passing on when Mom wasn’t here.
But what could she do if I told her about the fight with you, and how lonely I got in Toronto, and how out of place I feel here now? Not much. So I said, “I know, Mom. Really, everything’s okay.”
“All right,” she said. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but finally she just left.
I hope Dad gets home soon. It’s almost seven, and I’m starving.
What a weird day.
Mrs. Harnett is already assigning group presentations in history, but at least she let us pick our partners. I’m working with Rachel since Mackenzie’s not in our class. Which I didn’t mind because Mackenzie would probably spend the whole time talking about movie stars she’s seen and painting her nails while I did the work. Rachel actually cares about her grades.
We decided we might as well start working at Rachel’s house since it’s closer. I found Drew in the computer lab after school, showing some other seniors how he can hack into the teachers-only folders on the network, and asked him to tell Mom where I’d gone. Rachel said hi and started smiling all shy. Drew, of course, acted completely oblivious. If his personal life was mine to share, I’d tell Rachel there’s no point in flirting with him, but it’s not.
I started wondering, though, if maybe I hadn’t given Rachel a chance. I mean, I’ve been hanging out with her because she’s always with Mackenzie, but when Mackenzie was in L.A. all August, I never called Rachel up. Not that she called me either. But from what I’ve seen, I’ve got more in common with her than I do with Mackenzie. I should try to be more friendly. The new me definitely would.
“How’s your dad doing?” I asked as we were walking over to her place.
“Okay, I guess,” she said. “We’d better pick our topic for the project.”
“Let’s do something interesting,” I said. We’ve covered Canadian Maritime history in pretty much every grade, and the last thing I want to do is regurgitate the same old facts and watch the class fall asleep.
“We should do the Acadians,” Rachel said, and I made a face.
“Everyone’s going to pick them,” I said. “I heard people talking about it.”
“Yeah,” Rachel said, “because there’s more information on them than anything else. I want to get a good mark.”
“Maybe Mrs. Harnett would like something more original,” I pointed out. “We could research the Mi’kmaq, or the Scottish immigration, or the fishing industry—I’m sure we could find out lots about any of those.”
I wasn’t trying to be argumentative—I want a good mark too. But Rachel gave me a frigid look and said, “Nobody cares about fish. If you don’t want to do the project with me, you can ask for another partner.”
Where the hell did that come from? I’ve gone over the conversation in my head a dozen times, and I still don’t think I said anything that should have made her upset.
I wish people were as easy to understand as animals. You give a dog a treat, it’s happy. You yank its tail, it’s angry. Obvious cause and effect.
Maybe I’m the only one who has trouble. Maybe you would have seen right away where I went wrong, Leo. I still cringe remembering our big argument, how I said you couldn’t know what it’s like being an outsider—I mean, you were adopted and the only Asian kid on the island, and the stares and comments must have hurt even if you didn’t let on—but you have to admit you’re good with people, the way I’m good with animals. I doubt you’ve ever been at a total loss to figure out why someone did what they did.
But you weren’t there, and I was, so I just said, “Okay, if you really want to, we’ll do the Acadians.” I spent the rest of the walk to Rachel’s house wondering what to say next.
Then, after we’d been in her room scanning the history websites for about half an hour, her dad came clomping up on his crutches. He was coughing, too, and he sneezed a couple times as he got to the door. He must have caught a cold after his accident.
He stood in the doorway just smiling and scratching his elbow. Then he hobbled inside and wrapped one arm around Rachel. “My little girl,” he said. “I missed you. And you brought a friend home!”
Rachel’s cheeks went pink. She nudged him away. “Yeah, Dad, it’s great to see you too,” she said.
He coughed again, and turned his big smile on me. “It’s Kayla, right?” he said. “Grace’s kid?”
“Kaelyn,” I said.
“Right,” he said, leaning closer. His face was flushed, and I couldn’t help wondering if he’d been drinking, but he didn’t smell like alcohol. “I sure was glad when your family moved back,” he went on. “That father of yours never should have dragged the bunch of you away. But what does he know? Always sad to see a mainlander snatch up one of ours, especially a woman as pretty as your mom. You know, even though she’s a darkie, I might have chased her if I’d had half a chance. Why—”
“Dad, come on,” Rachel said, sounding flustered. I sat there, my mouth half open, feeling like I was choking. What was wrong with him? Was he even listening to himself?
He scratched the back of his neck and then patted my shoulder. I flinched away, but he didn’t seem to notice any more than he’d noticed Rachel’s protest.
“There’s been a lot of talk about what happened in the big city to bring you home again,” he said, still grinning. “Your father strayed a little, maybe? Would be just like a mainlander. Or maybe you ran into some trouble?”
“My mom missed the island,” I said, which was a really simplified explanation, but at that point I didn’t feel like giving him a longer one. I stood up, adding, “I should get going. We’ll work on the project some more tomorrow, okay, Rachel?”
I hardly waited for her nod. “Hold on, now,” her father said, following me into the hall. “Got to be more to the story! All the temptations in the city—I hope you and your brother kept clear of the drugs and the gangs….Wh
y don’t you invite her over for dinner, Rachel?” he called back over his shoulder. “Your mother’s dying to hear the details!”
“Stop it, Dad!” Rachel said. She scooted past him and caught up with me at the bottom of the stairs. Her dad started coughing again, which was maybe the only reason he didn’t keep talking.
“He’s just sick,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I don’t know what he was going on about.”
“Yeah,” I said. “No big deal. But I really should go.”
What he said was a big deal, though. The whole way home I couldn’t get it out of my head. I know a lot of gossip travels around the island, about everything. I know lots of people resent mainlanders who’ve moved here, like Dad. And I know there are people who look differently at Mom and Drew and me, and everyone else who’s not as pale as them. But no one’s ever talked like that to my face so blatantly, and friendly.
My skin is crawling just thinking about it.
He must have been drunk. And he’s sick too. And maybe going stir-crazy cooped up in the house when he’s used to being on the docks or the water all day.
All I know for sure is, next time we work on the project, Rachel’s coming over to my house.
I think you could call today one step forward for the new Kaelyn and one step back for parental relations.
Dad already seemed stressed this morning, pacing in the kitchen while he waited for the kettle to whistle, but I didn’t wonder about it much then. Meredith came over a little after breakfast, like she usually does on Sundays. She spent the morning making friendship bracelets with Mom, and the afternoon with me.
I don’t mind having her around—she’s a lot less bratty than most seven-year-olds I’ve seen. And she’s been even quieter since Aunt Lillian left last year.
Can you imagine taking off on your husband and daughter without any explanation? Doesn’t make sense to me. But then, I never got to know Aunt Lillian very well. Uncle Emmett did most of the talking.
I can’t make up for Meredith’s mom being gone, but I feel like a superhero if I can get her to laugh, showing her goofy videos I’ve found on the internet or letting her watch the ferrets chase each other.