13 and Counting

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13 and Counting Page 12

by Lisa Greenwald


  He shrugs. “Well, whatever. It is what it is. Do you ever notice how people just say that to get out of discussing something? It doesn’t really say much. But at the same time, it says everything.” He bulges his eyes at me.

  I laugh. “Very true.”

  We sit there quietly for a moment and then I say, “So what should we tell Kaylan? Or what should I tell Kaylan? She knows what’s up. It’s awkward not to have it out in the open.”

  He pauses to think a minute. “Um . . .” Then he starts laughing and I realize he’s still a seventh-grade boy and goofy and silly and really doesn’t give much thought to these kinds of situations.

  “Never mind,” I say. “I’ll figure it out.”

  In that moment, I start to question everything: Why are boys so dumb? Why am I in this situation? Do I even like Jason? Will there ever be a time when boys aren’t dumb? Should I ask my parents about going to boarding school?

  I don’t really know why, in stressful situations, I start to question literally everything in life instead of just focusing on one issue at a time.

  We look at each other for a few minutes, not saying anything, and then we burst into laughter. Unstoppable, belly-pain-inducing laughter. And all of the stress just fades away.

  This is proof that a human’s mood can change literally thirteen times in a matter of minutes. That’s not really a bad thing.

  Later that night, I’m up in my room doing homework when I hear the doorbell ring.

  My heart thuds immediately.

  I imagine the worst.

  The police are here and something happened to Bubbie and all of that. My mind wanders with all of the terrible possibilities.

  But then I hear the unmistakable stomping up the stairs and I know it’s not that kind of emergency.

  Three knocks on my door.

  It’s Kaylan.

  “Hey, Ar,” she says, flopping back onto my bed and then sitting up. “What’s up?”

  I giggle. “You tell me. You’re here at nine at night.”

  “Right. I am.” She giggles too. “Can you just tell me what’s going on with you. And Jason. And everything. Just tell me. Give it to me straight. Enough is enough. I’m not holding stuff back anymore, like when I was sad that you were BFF with the camp girls. This is new and improved Kaylan. Be Me. I’m being me, maybe a new me—open, honest, straightforward.”

  “Nothing’s really going on,” I start, because it’s kind of true. We haven’t kissed or anything. We’ve just hung out and laughed and admitted we like each other. That’s not really a ton going on.

  “Come on, Ar.” She smiles. “It’s totally fine. Just tell me. I feel like you’re distant and I don’t know what’s going on. And we still have tons to do on the list. So this is really for the sake of the list. Ya know?”

  I nod. “I like Jason. I don’t know how it happened.”

  Kaylan bursts out laughing right then and repeats, “I don’t know how it happened.”

  “What?” I ask. “It’s true.”

  Kaylan shrugs. “I’m okay with this. Honestly. I’m totally over Jason.”

  “You sure?” I ask. “I mean, not about the being over him part but about the being okay with it part.”

  She nods. “Yes. Totally. I spent an hour hula-hooping to sort out my feelings. It was a great use of time because I worked on the list, figured stuff out . . . and it’ll be great for my comedy routine.” She looks at me, and I laugh. “I just don’t want you to be so distant. That’s the only thing I’m not okay with.”

  “Be Me,” I tell her. “That whole thing. I think I am being me. I think this is who I am. I think I’m sort of a distant loner in many ways.”

  Kaylan crinkles her face. “What? Being distant? That’s who you are?”

  I sit back in my desk chair. “I don’t know, kind of. I feel like I’ve become this private person all of a sudden. I can’t even explain it.”

  Kaylan looks at me, and sadness spreads over her face like some kind of allergic reaction. Maybe she was fine with all of the Jason stuff, but this distant thing is really bugging her. She looks concerned like she’s heard someone got a bad medical diagnosis.

  She sits there, quiet, taking that in. “That’s hard to hear, Ari. It’s okay to want to do your own thing sometimes, but we’re BFFs. We’re a team. A duo. Ya know?”

  “I know,” I say quietly. And the thing is, I still want to be all of that. Just in a different way. And I’m not even sure what that means.

  “Are you saying we’re not that way anymore? At all?” she asks, and I start to wonder why this feels like a breakup all of a sudden. It’s not a breakup. We didn’t even have a fight. We’re not even angry.

  “No, we are,” I reassure her. “I don’t know. It’s just . . . Things are changing whether we want them to or not. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just a reality. So if everything is changing around us, our friendship is changing, too.”

  “But what does that mean?” Kaylan asks, all forceful. “I want to know what it’s going to be.”

  “I don’t know what it’s going to be,” I say quietly. “I’m just in a weird place right now.”

  “I want to help, though,” she replies. “Even if you did steal my ex-boyfriend.”

  I sit up, laughing. “See! You’re not okay with it!”

  “I am.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m kidding.”

  I half shrug. “Fine.”

  “Okay, I’m going home,” Kaylan says, but after she says that, she stays on my bed and doesn’t get up to leave.

  “Night-night,” I tell her. “See you at the bus?”

  “I think my mom is going to drive me again,” she replies. “That way I can sleep an extra three minutes. It’s worth it.”

  “I totally get it.”

  Kaylan gets up to leave, finally, and I watch her walk out of my room and hear her thump down the stairs and everything feels so slimy and strange. I don’t know what’s going on with me, or what’s going on with us.

  The thing is, I don’t feel like we’re in a fight. We’re not mad at one another. It’s nothing that needs to be fixed. We’re just being honest about our feelings and our differences, and I think all of these talks actually bond us closer together.

  23

  KAYLAN

  MRS. ETISOF WAS OUT OF town for a few days but now she’s back and I’m ready for some real talk with the best next-door neighbor in the history of the world.

  “Kaylan, my love,” she says with outstretched arms as I run up the few stairs to her front porch. “How are you, my dearie?”

  I sit down on the rocking chair next to her even though it’s snowing and pretty cold. I zip my coat up tight and pull my hood over my head.

  “Well, I’ve been great, except for a few things. But we’ll get to that in a minute. I actually have something important to ask you.”

  “Yes?” she sings.

  “Well, my mom agreed to this already, so don’t worry about that, but I want you to paint a mural in our basement.” I lift my eyebrows. “It’s not going to be right away because Ryan and I still need to do some cleaning. But my mom says when we finish cleaning it out, you can paint. And I think it would be so super awesome.”

  “I see,” she says, smiling. “Certainly a very exciting proposal.”

  “I know!”

  “What would you like me to paint?” she asks. “And would you want to help, too?”

  I pause to think a minute. “Umm. I could maybe help, but I’m not the best painter. I’m thinking something cool. Maybe like squiggles and designs and stuff. Or maybe our street. Or maybe the Brookside Pool. Who knows? Something fab, though.”

  “Oh, it will be fab.” Mrs. Etisof laughs. “You’ll let me know if you think of any other ideas, okay?”

  “Totally.” I smile.

  “So what else can I do for you, my dear?” She picks up her mug of tea and takes a sip. I don’t know how she’s still sitting out here. I am freezing down to my bones. My teeth are chattering
.

  “I think Ari loves Jason now,” I tell her. “What should I do? I don’t think I love Jason. I don’t even think I care that much. But Cami keeps making it seem like it’s such a big deal, like I’m supposed to be upset, so I don’t really know.”

  Mrs. Etisof slow-nods like she’s thinking everything over. “I see.”

  We sit there quietly for a while and the only thing on my mind is when I can suggest that we go inside.

  “Kaylan, may I offer some advice?” Mrs. Etisof asks finally.

  I nod. My teeth chatter but I try to quiet them.

  “Trust your feelings. If you’re not bothered by it, that’s okay. It seems to me that some people, like your friend Cami, maybe, like to make trouble. Which is okay. But you don’t need to make trouble, too.”

  I giggle. “Yeah. Very true.”

  “You know what people mean when they say ‘trust your gut’?”

  I wobble my head from side to side. “I think so.”

  “So that’s just it,” she tells me. “Trust your gut.”

  “Got it.” I smile. “I have to go, Mrs. Etisof. You’re not freezing out here?”

  “Not a bit. But go. Let’s talk soon about the mural.”

  I nod. “Thank you so much.”

  I run down the steps and back to my house and sigh with relief when I’m back in the warmth. I have no idea how Mrs. Etisof sits outside in this frigid air. Was she raised in an igloo or something? I don’t get it.

  “How’s Mrs. Etisof?” my mom asks when I’m in the kitchen, scanning the pantry for a snack. “I think it’s so lovely that you two are friends. Were you telling her about the mural?”

  “Yeah. She’s excited. We still need to decide what it’s going to be, though.”

  “Do I get any say in the matter?” My mom looks up from her magazine. “Also, the basement doesn’t appear to be cleaned out yet. . . .”

  “I know. Working on it.” I shrug. “Okay, I’m going to study.”

  “Good.”

  When I’m back up in my room, I see that I have a string of texts from Ari. I didn’t even realize I’d left my phone at home. That’s how involved I was in the Mrs. Etisof conversation. Actually, that’s how cold I was. Too cold to take my fingers out of my gloves to try and find my phone.

  Ari: Want to go see my grandparents?

  Ari: My mom can drive us.

  Ari: For the list, I mean.

  Ari: And for fun.

  Ari: LOL

  These texts came in twenty minutes ago. I wonder if she already went over there.

  Me: Was talking to Mrs. E about the mural.

  Me: Are you still home?

  Me: I’ll come visit them!

  Me: LMK

  No response from Ari. I guess she’s already over there. I hate to miss a list opportunity, especially since I’m going to miss a big chunk of time over break.

  I run back down the stairs. “Mom, can you drive me to Woodbury Cove?”

  “You have a friend who lives here now?” my mom asks, confused. It’s a sixty-and-over retirement community and everyone knows that.

  I crack up, imagining all those people in my classes and the cafeteria. It could be kind of fun, actually.

  “No, Ari’s grandparents. We said we were going to hang with them more since they live close by now and I think Ari already went over there.”

  My mom still looks very confused. “Um, okay. You’re already done studying?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to crush this history test,” I reassure her.

  My mom sighs. “Well, I can’t say no to visiting grandparents. Let me get my stuff together. Give me five minutes.”

  We drive over there and every few seconds, my mom looks at me sideways like she’s about to say something but then decides not to. This seems to be happening a lot lately.

  “Okay, so you’ll call me when you’re ready to be picked up? Or you’ll get a ride with Ari?” she asks as we pull up in front of their condo. “They really do live close by now. How wonderful.”

  “Yup. And yup.” I lean over and kiss her on the cheek. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Kay, can I ask you something?” she says as I’m almost out of the car, doing that classic mom thing where they start conversations at the absolute worst times.

  “Yes.” I try not to groan.

  “Never mind, I’ll ask later.” She looks away.

  “What is it, Mom?”

  She smiles. “Nothing. Seriously. Talk later. Love you. Bye.” She runs all of her words together, trying to be funny. I close the car door and walk up the path to Ari’s grandparents’ house.

  No one answers. For like ten minutes. I don’t know if I should keep ringing the doorbell. Maybe they’re sleeping. Or maybe they can’t hear the doorbell. Or maybe they’ve fallen and they’re on the floor. My heart starts to pound. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here alone. I don’t even know if Ari’s visiting them right now. And they don’t know me that well. I have no clue what I was thinking. Sometimes I do the absolute dumbest stuff. I mean, Loyal to the List, to a point. I take it too far.

  I’m about to walk away and sit on the bench in front of their building even though it’s three degrees outside, when someone answers the door. Someone I don’t know.

  “Hi, um, I’m Kaylan. I came to visit, uh—” I hesitate because I suddenly can’t remember their names. I don’t even know what’s happening right now.

  “Come in, come in,” the lady at the door says.

  I walk down the hallway of their apartment and all of the art is hung on the walls. There are a zillion pictures of Ari and Gemma through the years. With teeth, without teeth, eating ice cream, awkward school photos, even some from Ari’s bat mitzvah already framed.

  “Who’s there?” Ari’s bubbie asks, sounding like we’re in the middle of a knock-knock joke.

  “Oh, um.” I laugh. “It’s Kaylan. Hi!” I keep walking and when I get back to the den, I notice that Ari’s not here. It’s just Bubbie in one recliner and Zeyda in another watching an episode of Judge Judy.

  “Kaylan, what a surprise,” Bubbie says, all cheerful. “Come sit. Pull over a walker.” She laughs at herself.

  I pull over the blue one with the fluffy seat and sit down, facing the TV because it’s hard to turn away from Judge Judy. She kind of has a commanding presence.

  “How are you guys doing?” I ask, my voice catching a little. It’s awkward to be here and talk to them without Ari. I mean, I know them. But not that well. They always lived far away. Maybe she’s in the bathroom?

  “Eh, we’re doing.” Bubbie smiles. “We’re walking; well, he is.” She points to Zeyda. “We’re both talking and squawking.”

  I crack up.

  “I don’t know how well we’re doing any of it. But we’re doing it.” She sighs. “And how are you?”

  “Um, I’m good.” I laugh for no real reason other than my awkward levels being at an all-time high. “School is school. And it’s freezing. But ya know? It’s good.”

  “Oh, it’s so cold,” Bubbie says. “We’re not sticking our noses out there.”

  “You’re lucky,” I say. “I wouldn’t either. But I’m forced to go to school. By, like, the government, I guess.”

  Zeyda laughs a deep, throaty laugh.

  “You’re funny,” Bubbie adds.

  “Actually, I have some good news,” I say, sensing that they could use some cheering up. “I got accepted to this comedy camp for the summer. I applied totally secretly, I didn’t even tell my parents or Ari or anyone, but I got in!”

  “How wonderful!” Bubbie exclaims, her voice rising at the end.

  “Yeah, it’s at this camp called Laurel Lake.” I pause. “I honestly can’t wait.”

  Bubbie sits there smiling as I go on and on about the program.

  “I loved camp,” Bubbie adds. “It was my favorite time of the year! It meant I could get away from everyone at home, really be myself.” She laughs.

  “I think that�
�s how Ari felt, too, when she went to camp last summer.” I pause. “Maybe we all have our home selves and our camp selves.”

  She nods. “Maybe. I think you’re onto something, Kaylan.”

  It’s quiet after that, but I kind of want to keep talking. They’re such great listeners—they sit quietly and smile and laugh at all the right spots. It’s something I never realized before—how good it feels to share your good news with someone. It’s like a built-in way to make someone happy.

  “So is Ari here? Or was she here today?” I ask, when all we’ve heard is Judge Judy for what feels like way too long.

  “She was going to come,” Bubbie says, “but then I think her mother got involved in something and it was too cold to walk.”

  I nod. “Oh, okay.”

  I start to wonder how long I should stay or if I should text Ari that I’m here, but maybe they’d see that as rude. I stare at the cordless phone, praying that Ari calls or her mom or Gemma or someone, so they can know I’m here and maybe join me. The clock on the wall chirps—some kind of bird sound that I can’t identify. Each hour is a different bird.

  “So lovely of you to come see us,” Bubbie adds. “And thank you for sharing your good news! I hope you don’t mind if we fall asleep. Don’t take it personally. We don’t sleep at night, so sometimes we doze off.”

  “No problem. I totally get it.” I laugh.

  “I still can’t get over everything you did for Ari’s bat mitzvah,” she continues. “It was really remarkable.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t that much.”

  “No, I mean it. It was very special. There aren’t many people who would go to that effort for a friend.” She nods for emphasis. “You’re something special, Kaylan.”

  All of a sudden, I’m choked up. I’m about to get up out of this walker and lean down and hug her in the recliner, but maybe that would be too much. It’s so important to be seen. I don’t think we even realize it all the time, or even realize it until it happens, but then when we are recognized and appreciated, we realize how much we’ve needed it all along.

  My friendship with Ari is literally the most special thing in the world to me; it just feels so good for someone else to see that, too.

 

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