13 and Counting

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13 and Counting Page 7

by Lisa Greenwald


  Marie adds, “Wait until they’re turning one hundred and one and they need to do one hundred things . . . that’ll take a while.”

  “Yeah, but it’ll give us something to do when we’re old,” Ari says. “It’s important to always keep busy.”

  “Hey, Ryan,” Cami says, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Last year, did you have that two days of standardized testing in June? Like after finals. I heard they’ve gotten rid of it, but I’m not totally sure. I just, like, uh want to be prepared and stuff.”

  “Uh, yeah, I think we did,” Ryan says, and then, thankfully, he leaves the room, not causing any more major damage, except stealing two more mini muffins on the way out.

  After a little regrouping, I say, “Okay, so we have find a unicorn and win an online contest. It’s a good start but I’m thinking we need to dig deeper. What are your thoughts, Ari?”

  She thinks for a moment, readjusting herself on the couch. “I could see a little deeper digging.” Everyone laughs. “Think about the two of us—what do you feel we need to accomplish? What can we do better? How about a little analysis, guys?”

  “This is like some backward kind of therapy session,” Marie adds. “Believe me, I snoop on my mom’s appointments sometimes. She has a sound machine but I can still hear bits and pieces of what her patients are saying.” She hesitates, suddenly nervous. “Wait, is that bad of me?”

  “Kind of, yeah,” I add. “It’s like an invasion of privacy.”

  “True, hmm.” She clenches her teeth. “Okay, forget I said that.”

  Amirah raises her hand. “Oooh, I just got a brainstorm! It’s kind of along those lines, though. What about Be Me? Like, be whoever you want to be. And really focus on it. Be true to your authentic self, and concentrate on your strengths and stuff. . . .”

  We think for a bit.

  “I like it,” I say, before anyone else adds a comment. “It can really tie into so many things, and also, like, we’ve realized how different we are, Ari. Ya know?”

  She nods.

  “So this can kind of highlight that, and we can keep exploring it throughout our listing adventures. . . .”

  “Love,” Ari says. “Add it!”

  After a sip of iced tea, I say, “Okay, we only need two more list items from you guys and then we can chilllll and watch a movie or something. Of course if we change our minds and revise, we may come back to you for some new ideas.”

  “Okay, well, since I totally freaked you guys out with the eavesdropping on my mom’s therapy sessions thing, I feel like I need to redeem myself,” Marie says, looking down at her feet. “And I think after the whole bigness of the Be Me, you guys need to do something totally crazy and silly. Something to really push you out of your comfort zones a little.”

  “Oh, lord,” I groan, rolling my eyes, and then squeezing closer to hug Marie. “I’m kidding. Okay, just tell us.”

  She sniffles, and I’m not sure if she has a cold or if she’s faking crying or maybe even about to real cry. I hope not. “You know those YouTube videos with the spicy chips? And you have to order them months in advance and it’s a whole big deal? You only get, like, one chip at a time?”

  “Ummm.” Ari looks confused. “I don’t think I know about these chips.” She pauses. “Are they legal?”

  We all crack up. I wonder if Ari’s really the funny one of the two of us, and we had it backward this whole time.

  “Yes, they’re legal!” Marie exclaims. “I’ll send you a link later. But you should totally do that. And you could even have a chip-watching event and, like, invite people from school. It could be a whole thing. Maybe everyone contributes a dollar and then all the proceeds go to charity? Like how people do when someone is running a race and stuff. . . .”

  “OMG, Marie,” Cami squeals. “You’re way into this. You’re not, like, doing the list with them. You know that, right?” She laughs. The air sort of stings a little after she says it.

  “I know.” Marie rolls her eyes. “Whatever. They said they wanted ideas.” She pours herself a cup of cucumber-lemon water and drinks it down in one gulp.

  “Whoa, this is getting to be so intense, but in a good way,” I say. “And we’re so grateful for everyone’s ideas, and they’re all great, and we do want to challenge ourselves. I love it. So basically we order the chips, and then they’re shipped to us, we invite everyone over to watch us eat spicy chips and people give a dollar and we donate the money?” I try to remember everything Marie just said.

  “Yes, exactly. . . .” She smiles. “So. Yes or no?”

  I look at Ari and she looks at me. “I think yes; what about you, Ar?”

  “Definitely yes.” She glances over at Marie. “I’ve been wanting to expand my palate and eat more spicy stuff, actually.”

  “See, I knew that,” Marie beams.

  I laugh because Marie is still so hardcore about trying to be Ari’s BFF or best school friend, but I guess it just doesn’t bother me the way it used to. My friendship with Ari is one hundred percent strong. Nothing will change that.

  I look over the list again and realize M.W. hasn’t suggested anything since the Japan thing. She’s all cozy in a corner of the couch under a blanket, snacking on some chips, looking like she’s about to fall asleep.

  “M.W., any other ideas?” I ask her. “Are you awake?”

  “I’m half-asleep, actually.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t tell you this yet because we’re sort of in a trial period, but my mom decided that my brother and I need to show more responsibility so we’re fostering a dog. . . .”

  “A dog?” I yelp. “For real? What do you mean fostering?”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a dog that needs a home, but we may not be the ones to keep him permanently. We’re just housing him until someone wants to adopt him,” she explains. “But he doesn’t sleep. He just barks all night. . . . I think he’s scared.” She makes a sad face. “So I’m super tired. I’m up all night, too! And I’m not sure I’m showing much responsibility.”

  We all nod, sympathetic.

  Suddenly, M.W. perks up, throwing off the blanket and adjusting her posture on the couch. “Oh oh oh!” she yells. “That’s it! Convince your parents you need to get a dog.”

  “Each of us?” Ari squeals.

  She considers it, but then says, “No, that would be too much. Just one of you. But which one?”

  I look at Ari and she looks at me.

  “Well, Kay’s already watching one of the school turtles so she really has a pet, at least for now . . .” Her voice trails off, and I roll my eyes at her. “It should be me. A dog would be a gift to our family! I mean, Gemma and I have always wanted one. And dogs are healing! Maybe it would be great for my bubbie, too. She’d have, like, a new grandchild. But a furry one!”

  Everyone cheers, especially M.W.

  “Yes! I am so happy I contributed something!” M.W. claps. “Oh, and add come up with a name for it. You need to think of an über fab name. We didn’t get to do that, since we’re fostering . . . and the dog’s name is . . .” She pauses. “Dog.”

  We all crack up. Clearly this canine’s original owners just didn’t put any effort into him at all.

  We look over the complete list.

  13 Must-Dos to Keep Crushing It as 13-Year-Olds

  Hula-hoop on a unicycle.

  Start a movement.

  Figure out how we feel about God.

  Spend more time with Bubbie and Zeyda.

  Perfect the art of persuasion, especially with Kaylan’s mom.

  Train for and run a race.

  Come up with many varieties of fruit-infused water.

  Properly thank our teachers before the end of the year.

  Find a unicorn.

  Win an online contest.

  Be Me.

  Eat one of those super-spicy chips.

  Convince Ari’s parents that they need a dog and come up with an awesome name for said dog.

  We finish the brainstorm session, pl
eased with the breakdown and combination of our ideas and our friends’ ideas.

  When everyone is upstairs in my room, lying on towels in bikinis with the thermostat all the way up, our landline rings.

  “Ryan! Kaylan!” my mom yells a few seconds later. “Dad’s on the phone. He wants to talk to both of you.”

  Ari gives me a concerned look; only a true BFF would know to do this, would know that this is odd, and kind of a big deal.

  I shrug it off, trying to stay calm, and leave my room.

  “Kay.” Cami grabs my arm when I’m almost out the door. “Don’t go.” She frowns and pretends to cry.

  I laugh a little, and pick up the phone in my mom’s room. Ryan picks up in the den.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “What’s up?” Ryan asks.

  I can’t see Ryan’s face, but I imagine it’s a combination of nervous and annoyed, and that he’s probably playing a video game while he takes this call.

  “How are you guys doin’?” my dad asks, trying to sound chummy.

  “Fine,” we both answer at the same time.

  Truthfully, things were pretty okay with the three of us during our trip at the end of the summer, but after that, they sort of took a weird turn. Dad decided to tell us about his new girlfriend via text message, and then it was just mega awkward. He became super distant, and we haven’t talked a ton. He hasn’t been back to visit since.

  “So, I mentioned this to Ryan in passing, but it’s official now, and I just wanted you to know I’m coming to visit over February break. Looking forward to catching up on everything going on,” he says. “So please save that week for me. We can spend a lot of time together.”

  Silence on our end. My heart pounds. He doesn’t know about the Cami trip yet. I thought my mom would have told him.

  “And Kaylan, I hope we can discuss the summer plans then? Mom says the camp forms don’t need to be in until March.”

  “What do we need to discuss?” I ask, in the most polite way I can. “I need to go. It’s amazing I got in. Remember on the trip when you said to follow my dreams?”

  “Um, okay,” he says, not really answering the question. “There are just some logistics I want to go over. I think it’s better if we discuss them in person.”

  My throat tightens. I get this feeling like someone is squeezing my throat, like I may pass out. He just talks in this cryptic, spooky way; it scares me. Like bad news is about to come from around the corner and gobble me up.

  “I won’t be here in February. I’m going on a trip with my friend Cami and her family. They already booked the plane tickets and everything.” I hesitate. “I, um, have to go. My friends are all over right now.”

  “Oh, well, okay.” He hesitates. “Have fun, then.”

  “Bye, Dad,” Ryan says. “Keep it real.”

  I know Ryan says that to everyone about everything and anything, basically, and it pretty much has zero meaning, but when he says it to my dad, it really seems to apply. I feel like my dad is always hiding stuff, always telling half the story.

  I really wish he would keep it real.

  12

  ARI

  WHEN I GET HOME FROM Kaylan’s the next day, I launch into a marathon texting session with the camp girls. Sometimes one person will write but then no one else will be free to respond and it will be silence for days. But then other times, we’ll all be looking at our phones, texting like we’re all sitting right next to each other. Those are the times I feel surrounded by love, so far away from loneliness.

  Hana’s bat mitzvah is coming up at the end of June, right after school ends, and we’re using that as our countdown date now. It’s before camp starts, but it’s really the kickoff to summer.

  Hana: So hard to figure out what to write in this speech though. Like how I feel about G-d and Judaism and stuff. Ugh.

  Me: I know. Took me so long to figure it out, and now I realize I’m still figuring it out. It’s a process.

  Alice: so glad I have until September

  Zoe: Same. Love u AlKal my bday twin

  We text back and forth for at least an hour, covering every topic in the world, and then Golfy texts me.

  Golfy: yo

  Golfy: you’ve been so quiet

  Me: hey

  Golfy: what’s going on? Fill me in

  Me: not much

  Me: just busy w/stuff

  It’s hard to switch back and forth between this conversation, and it still feels like too much to really fill him in on over text.

  Me: too much 2 text

  Me: let’s talk later

  Golfy: k

  And then my phone rings, pausing all texting conversations.

  “Ari,” Kaylan says, all out of breath. “Did you check your email? I just sent you something.”

  “No,” I reply. “What is it?”

  “Just check. I’m hanging up.”

  I type out a quick text to the camp girls because I get a sense that whatever this Kaylan email is may take a while.

  Me: g2g lovies. Talk later. mwaaaahhhhhhhh

  I open up the mail app on my phone, grateful that my mom gave me her old iPhone and I don’t have to go inside to check my email.

  Dear Kaylan,

  I’m disappointed I won’t see you in February. I know you’ll have a fun time with your friend and her family. I’ve left you three voicemails. You don’t seem to be returning my calls, but I know you’re busy.

  My plan was to come to town in February and discuss summer plans with you. I have some big news that I wanted to share in person, but it seems that won’t be possible.

  I’m getting married.

  I know this is a lot to take in. I hope you’ll call me when you can. I didn’t want to tell you this way.

  I love you, Dad

  I feel like someone took a sledgehammer to my heart. I hurt for Kaylan; anxious bubbles creep up my chest because I don’t know how to help her.

  I call her back.

  “Kay,” I say softly. “Wow. That’s, um, that’s a lot.”

  “My mom already knew,” she explains. “Maybe that’s why she was so crazy with all the cleaning.”

  “Yeah. Probably.” We’re quiet for a few seconds and then I say, “How do you feel about this?”

  “Crummy. Annoyed. Glad I won’t be here in February,” she says. “Other than that, I don’t know. And he still didn’t answer about if he’ll help with comedy camp or not.”

  “Yeah.” I pause. “I don’t know what to say about any of this either. Seems like all this big stuff is happening to us, all at once.”

  “Kinda does,” she replies.

  I look across the street because all I want right now is for Jason to come out of his house with a basketball and shoot hoops, and for him to see me, and then walk across the street to say hi.

  “I’m sorry, Kay. This is sucky.”

  She answers, “It is so sucky. I mean, I know he left. But getting married? That’s so official. Ya know?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “It’s weird that you can marry someone and plan for that to be it, forever, and then just, like, one day decide it’s not forever and then end up marrying someone else,” Kaylan muses. “I know we’re thirteen and we’re always having different crushes. But I thought that sort of ends at some point.”

  “I did too. I still do. I don’t think your dad is, like, the way it is for everyone,” I tell her. “He’s just one guy, and maybe he’s a little mixed up.”

  “That’s one word, or I guess two words, for it,” Kaylan says, laughing a bit. “Whatever.”

  “At least we have the list,” I tell her, not sure if it’ll really help at all. “We made it before any of the big things happened—with my bubbie and your dad and stuff. But aren’t you glad we have it? To kind of guide us through?”

  “Totally,” she replies. “I guess it knew we needed it before we did.”

  13

  KAYLAN

  ARI AND I DECIDE TO walk to school on Monday
so we can discuss fruit-infused water flavors and try and get in shape at the same time, a simple way to ease into the race training. Since she lives a tiny bit closer to school than I do, we plan to meet at her house and then walk together.

  It’s freezing today, but not super windy, so I think we’ll be able to handle it.

  When I get to Ari’s house, she’s sitting on her front porch, all bundled up, talking to Jason.

  “Hey,” I say, sort of out of breath. “So hot out today. Right, guys?”

  They smile like my joke is only a little bit funny.

  Even though we need to leave in two minutes, I sit down on one of the Adirondack chairs and pull my knees up to my chin, hoping that’ll keep me a little warmer.

  “What’s up?” They’re so quiet that I need to fill the air with words. Any words. I don’t even know why Jason’s here right now.

  “Nothing much,” Jason replies. He’s still sort of icy to me, but not all the time. Things are fine with us, but they’re not what they were when we were a couple (if we were ever really even a couple) or before when we were friends. I don’t really even know what we are anymore.

  But for Ari and Jason—they’ll always be neighbors. They have a special thing that I’m not a part of, really. Just based on the fact that they live near one another. It’s a fact of life.

  “After school today, I’m going to shoot some hoops at that new indoor basketball place,” he tells us. “So pumped it opened up since we’re not allowed to go to the high school anymore.”

  Ari asks, “Why not? What happened?”

  “Some kids totally vandalized it with spray paint or something,” Jason explains. “Really weird. And so annoying because Cole, Judah, and I were getting really good. We’re going to try out for the team next year.”

  “That’s fab,” Ari says, smiling at Jason.

  I may be reading into things, but I’m sensing something going on here, an odd shift in the universe.

  An Ari and Jason more-than-neighbors thing that was never there before.

  “All right, I know you guys have your special list walk today or whatever.” Jason laughs, and I look over at Ari, wondering what she told him, and when, and how much he knows. “I’m heading to the bus. Later.”

 

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