One of Those Hideous Books Where the Mother Dies

by Sonya Sones

  one positive, the other negative…

  It’s hard to see over the heads

  of all the other kids.

  But then we spot our names right at the top:

  Eliza Doolittle—Ruby Milliken,

  Henry Higgins—Wyatt Moody.

  Suddenly Wyatt bursts out laughing,

  like he just can’t contain his happiness.

  Then he grabs me

  and lifts me right off my feet

  into a bear hug.

  A bear hug that practically gives me a fever.

  Dear Mom,

  How are things up there in heaven? I’m beginning to think maybe it does exist, after what happened the other night.

  Before I say good-bye, I just want to say thank you, Mom. Thank you for saving my life.

  Love u 4 ever,

  Ruby

  I’ve Just Hit the Send Button

  And I’m about to sign off AOL,

  when suddenly the little man says,

  “You’ve got mail!”

  Whoa—it couldn’t be.

  Could it?

  Then it dawns on me.

  It’s probably just another one of those

  “Returned mail: Host unknown” messages

  telling me I have a permanent fatal error.

  But I can’t help clicking on “new mail”

  just to make absolutely sure …

  It’s from Lizzie!

  Maybe I won’t even open it.

  Maybe I’ll just delete it

  without even reading it …

  Yeah, right. Who am I kidding?

  Dear Ruby,

  I’m writing to tell you that Ray dumped me. For Amber. Big shock, huh? I guess he finally got fed up with listening to me trying to resolve all the guilt feelings I had about hurting you. But I’m glad he left me. I got what I deserved.

  Listen, Ruby, I’m not asking you to forgive me. Because what I did was unforgivable. I still don’t even know how it happened. All I remember is being at that Halloween dance, and Ray was talking to me and all of a sudden he forgot what he was saying, right in the middle of his sentence. He just stood there looking at me, all googly eyed, like I was so breathtakingly beautiful that he couldn’t even concentrate. And after that, it was like he’d put me under a spell or something. I was a complete goner.

  But I’m back now. From wherever the heck I was. And I’m not asking you to forgive me. It’s just that I need you to know how truly sorry I am.

  Love,

  Lizzie

  It Feels So Good

  To dial Lizzie’s number

  and hear that raspy voice of hers

  saying, “Hello?”

  It feels so good to tell her

  that I got her e-mail.

  And that all

  is forgiven.

  At Sunset

  I’m lying on the grass,

  in the middle of Dad’s palm forest,

  with my arms cradling my head,

  staring up at the graceful trees.

  The fronds are fringed with fiery red,

  bobbing and dancing in the soft breeze,

  swishing and swaying

  like headless hula girls.

  It’s funny.

  I can remember hating palm trees.

  I can even remember hating Coolifornia.

  I just can’t remember

  why.