Ava XOX

by Carol Weston

  We traded papers, and I put a big star around his grade and handed his back. He looked right into my eyes and said, “Thanks.”

  I didn’t know whether the “Thanks” was for the grade or the star or the spelling lesson or just because. But I smiled and was glad that Kelli wasn’t there, because I didn’t even try to look away.

  AVA, HONEST

  PS Maybelle was absent today because she has a bug (weird expression) and was home sick. (Not “homesick”!)

  2/27

  SATURDAY AFTERNOON

  DEAR DIARY,

  I put on my coat and snow boots and went to Maybelle’s to give her the schoolwork she had missed, including a “brain teaser” from our math teacher Miss Hamshire (a.k.a. Miss Hamster). This is it:

  “A bat and a ball together cost $1.10. The bat costs a dollar more than the ball. What is the price of the ball?”

  “Easy!” I said. “Ten cents!”

  “No,” Maybelle said. “Five.”

  “No,” I insisted, though I should have known better than to argue with Maybelle about math. But maybe she was dizzy from being sick? “It’s ten!” I said.

  “No,” she replied patiently. “Let’s say the ball is a nickel. If the bat costs a dollar more, then the bat costs $1.05. Right?”

  “I guess…”

  “Well, there you go. If you buy a five-cent ball, and also a bat that costs $1.05, you’ve spent your $1.10. So the ball costs five cents.”

  “Oh.” I changed the subject because my head was spinning. “What’d you do yesterday?”

  “Mostly slept and watched TV,” Maybelle said. “But can I tell you something really personal?”

  I hoped she wasn’t going to say that she got her period. Or that she realized that she has a major crush on Chuck. Or that she and Zara and Kelli are going to start a club.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “I found three little hairs under my arms.”

  I tried to hide my shock. “What are you going to do?”

  “Shave, I guess? I mean, maybe someday? I think I’m going to ask my mom.”

  I nodded as if any minute now, I too expected to find private hairs in surprising places and would consult my mom.

  Maybelle also said that last night, after she was feeling better, she convinced her parents to let her look at the stars because it was really clear out. (Maybelle is the only person I know who thinks about nighttime weather as much as daytime weather.)

  “And?”

  “It was beautiful! All the constellations! And the Milky Way! Do you know that the Earth travels through space at 67,000 miles per hour?”

  “No.”

  “But it travels silently! There’s no sound in space!”

  “Why not?”

  “There’s no air, so the molecules can’t vibrate.”

  I didn’t know what she was talking about, and she could tell.

  “Ava, isn’t it weird? We’re just dots in the universe! Our whole solar system is miniscule when you think about all the other stars and galaxies out there.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But I still get all worked up about stuff.”

  Maybelle smiled.

  Anyway, I am now home, and I can’t believe I’m writing in you, my diary, about the universe and my BFF’s armpit hair. But I am.

  Funny, it feels like I’m sitting completely still at my desk, but when you consider how fast the Earth travels and how fast everyone is growing up, maybe I’m not sitting still at all.

  AVA, DOT

  2/27

  AN HOUR LATER

  DEAR DIARY,

  I raised both my arms in front of the mirror, and I definitely do not have any armpit hair.

  But you know what? I think Pip has started to shave. I noticed a pink razor in the back of the bathroom drawer! How long has it been there? Days? Weeks? Months?

  AVA, ANALYZING

  2/27

  SATURDAY NIGHT

  DEAR DIARY,

  Pip finished Z Is for Zinnia and showed it to me. My favorite new pages are Q is for Queen Anne’s lace, S is for snapdragon, and U is for umbrella plant.

  “You know what I’m looking forward to now?” Pip asked.

  “Getting it published?”

  “No. Real flowers. Spring.”

  “Spring?” I repeated.

  “Spring! Crocuses and daffodils! Purples and yellows!”

  I looked out at our lawn, and it was brown with dirty clumps of unmelted snow that were gray and shiny on top.

  “Hey, how are things with Chuck?” Pip asked.

  “Better.” I didn’t say anything else because I don’t know what’s going on between him and Kelli. Then I asked her about Ben.

  “His mom might let me work at the bookstore,” she said.

  “For real? For money?”

  “No, not for money. But she said she can give me advance reading copies of YA books and I can write reviews for their website.”

  “W-O-W,” I said, because that sounded perfect for Pip. (Not for me. I would not want to have to read young adult books or write bonus book reports.) I lowered my voice. “Have you and Ben…” I began, “…kissed on the lips?” It just popped out.

  “Ava!” she said but did not kick me out of her room. “Not yet,” she finally answered. “But he did kiss me on the cheek.”

  My eyes went wide.

  “And that’s our secret, okay?” she added.

  “Okay,” I said, glad we had sister secrets.

  A B C = AVA IN BED WITH CAT

  PS When a boy and a girl kiss for the first time, how can they be sure they won’t bump noses or do it wrong?

  2/28

  BEDTIME

  DEAR DIARY,

  This is not a leap year, so today was the last day in February.

  This morning, the twins next door, Carmen and Lucia, came over in pink jackets. Pip and I were in our pajamas, but we got dressed, and I told them about playing limbo two weeks ago. They thought that sounded fun, so we took turns holding up a broomstick while one person tried to scoot under it. I started talking about how my friend Chuck is great at limbo. (I think I just like saying—and writing—his name.)

  Carmen said, “Is he your boyfriend?” and I answered, “NO!” a little too loudly. Lucia dared me to invite him over, and I said “NO!” even louder.

  Well, Tanya texted Pip and asked if she wanted to go for a walk, so next thing you know, all five of us were in the park playing Frisbee. The sun was shining and the snow had melted, and I’d forgotten how good it feels to run around and not be bundled up.

  I thought of a baseball joke that Chuck had told me and told it to them:

  “Once there was a boy who kept wondering why a baseball was growing larger and larger…and then it hit him!”

  Everyone laughed.

  Tanya ended up staying for dinner (a first) and helped us make roasted vegetables with shrimp. While we were cooking, Tanya told Dad that thanks to me, her whole family has been trying to eat better.

  “Really?” Dad asked.

  “Yes,” Tanya said. “I asked my mom to stop buying Pepsi and Oreos, and she thought that was a good idea and would save us money too. My little brother is mad because he’s not heavy, but my mom said it’s better for all of us.” Dad nodded. “She even put Ava’s tips on our fridge.”

  “With a refrigerator magnet?” I asked, trying to picture it.

  Tanya nodded. She turned back to Dad. “Mr. Wren, Ava’s gotten the whole school talking!”

  “About me?” I asked, suddenly paranoid.

  “No! About soda and vegetables and ‘paying attention’ and stuff.”

  Taco brushed against my leg to remind me that it was his dinnertime and I should pay attention to him too.

  AVA, ATTENTIVE

  3/1

  IN THE
LIBRARY

  DEAR DIARY,

  You know how some people are hard-hearted? When it comes to Chuck, I might be softhearted.

  I got to lunch early, and so did Chuck, and he put his tray down next to mine, which he never does. I looked around for Kelli but didn’t see her.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi,” he said, and our eyes locked a little. (Can eyes lock a little? I just mean that I tried to look away but couldn’t.)

  I told him that Pip and the twins and I had played limbo over the weekend, and it was fun, but nobody was as good at limbo as he was. (Was that flirting? I did not giggle or anything!)

  Our eyes locked again. They just did. It felt like there was something more we wanted to say to each other.

  But the world of school came rushing in when Maybelle and Zara and all three Emilys came and sat down. Jamal too. (Do he and Zara like each other??) It was like our old “lunch bunch,” but with…boys. T-T-Y-T-T, it was a little awkward.

  I remembered that Dad had printed out a riddle for me, and I’d stuck it in my backpack. “You guys, I have a riddle! Are you ready?”

  Everyone leaned in, and to be funny, the three Emilys said, “Ready.” “Ready.” “Ready.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I am the beginning of the end, and the end of time, and I am essential to creation, and I surround every place.”

  They guessed “air” and “God” and “infinity” and “life” and “death” and even “love.” “Wrong!” I said. “It’s the letter e!”

  I showed them the paper and pointed to all the e’s.

  After a while, Chuck said, “I have a joke about a kayak.”

  Zara said, “K-A-Y-A-K is a palindrome!”

  “I know,” Chuck said and smiled at me. I smiled back, and our eyes locked again, and I totally had to force myself to look away. “Two people were in a kayak,” he began. “It was freezing cold, so they built a little fire in the bottom of the boat. But the kayak started burning up, and the people sank and drowned.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Emily J.

  “That’s not funny,” said Emily S.

  “That’s sad,” said Emily L.

  “Let me get to the punch line!” Chuck said and pronounced, “So it just goes to show: you can’t have your kayak and heat it too.”

  Everyone laughed except Kelli, who suddenly appeared holding a chair and wormed her way between me and Chuck. “Can you tell it again?” she said.

  Chuck frowned a tiny bit but repeated the joke. She still didn’t get it and said she’d never heard the expression “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.” Well, Chuck explained it, and she finally laughed, and I wondered if maybe some rich people can because they can buy two cakes, and then, when they eat one, still have one?

  Lunch was not as fun with Headband Kelli there, so I said I had to go to the library. I knew that being here alone—well, alone with you—would help me relax.

  Funny. Writing and petting Taco help me relax. Reading and drawing help Pip relax. Reading and cooking help Dad. And maybe what helps Kelli is prancing around with headbands on her head and putting cucumber slices on her eyes and calling Chuck’s house and sitting next to him even though I was there first.

  AVA AT SCHOOL

  3/1

  AT DR. GROSS’S WAITING FOR MOM TO FINISH WORK

  DEAR DIARY,

  I went to Dr. Gross’s after school because Pip and Dad both had plans and I’m not allowed to “go home to an empty house.” Soon I might be. Mom said that when she was eleven, she used to get paid to babysit for her neighbors.

  I said that I like when I come home and, for instance, Dad is cooking, even when it’s a Meatless Monday (like today). I also said I’m glad Taco is always home now too.

  Anyway, I was doing my math in Dr. Gross’s waiting room, and I was asking Penny at the desk about her three cats (one has just one eye) and her partner (whose name is Henny, which is pretty funny, since Penny rhymes with Henny). I was also noticing the containers of dog biscuits and cat treats and Dr. Gross’s framed diploma from vet school. (He went to Cornell.) Well, guess who walked through on her way out the door? Mackie and BowWow!

  I thought about pretending I didn’t see them, but it’s a small waiting room. I thought about pretending I didn’t remember she was one of the girls who ganged up on me, but how could I forget? And then she said, “Hi.”

  I said hi back and even asked if BowWow had eaten any more rubber duckies.

  “No,” she said. “And it’s a good thing! My dad said that operation cost a fortune!”

  I didn’t know what to say, because it’s not like I’m the one who makes up the price for rubber duck removal surgery.

  “He’s been eating everything else in sight though,” Mackie said. “Dr. Gross said he’s too sedentary, and I should take him for a thirty-minute walk every day.”

  I know how to spell sedentary and that it means being a “couch potato” (or, in the case of a dog, maybe “floor potato”). But I was not about to comment on BowWow’s physique.

  No way.

  No. Way.

  No. Way. José.

  While I sat there M-U-M, Mackie said, “You know what? It’ll probably do me good to have to walk my overweight dog.” Suddenly Penny went to the back to check on something which meant Mackie and I were alone. She looked right at me. “Ava,” she said. “I feel bad about the other day.”

  I stayed quiet.

  “I should have told Rorie to chill,” she continued. “I swear, that girl has anger management issues. She knows she has to get in shape. She can barely walk up two flights of stairs! She had no business dragging the rest of us into it.”

  I couldn’t disagree. (Double negative.) So I mumbled, “She always makes me nervous.”

  Mackie laughed. “She makes everyone nervous!”

  BowWow started licking my fingers, which tickled, and was half nice, half gross.

  “BowWow! Stop!” Mackie said.

  “It’s okay,” I said, because it was.

  “Rorie made it sound like you were going around saying that you have to be skinny to be happy,” Mackie continued. “She said you’d crossed a line, and we needed to put you in your place. And yeah, you’re pretty young to be dispensing advice, but I read your tips today and they weren’t malicious. They were basically no big deal.”

  I was glad Mackie said that, but I also felt bad for my tips. Were they “basically no big deal”? I’d worked hard on them!

  “Anyway, I probably should have thought about it a little more before I piled on.”

  “Thanks,” I said quietly. “I probably should have thought about it a little more before I made that poster.”

  She sized me up and seemed to notice for the first time that I’m just a harmless fifth grader.

  “You’re a good kid,” she said.

  “I know,” I said, even though I hadn’t meant to agree out loud.

  Mackie laughed and said, “Brave too.” That was funny because people sometimes say that about me, but I never feel brave.

  Mackie dug into her backpack for her cap, and out came a little bag of Wise potato chips. She put the cap on and said, “I may regret this the second I do it, but let’s consider it a science experiment.” She dropped the bag onto the floor. BowWow looked at her, confused.

  I was confused too. I looked down the hallway and hoped Penny wasn’t coming back right away.

  “Five, four, three, two, one,” Mackie said, then stomped on the bag with her boot.

  The bag popped, BowWow barked, and Mackie laughed.

  “It worked!” she said. “I thought that mostly just air would come out, but I wasn’t totally sure. Of course if all the chips had gone flying, BowWow would have licked them up. Still, that would have been a lousy way for him to start his ‘weight loss regime.’”

  �
�An unwise way,” I said. The word slipped out, and I was relieved when Mackie laughed.

  She tossed the smashed bag into a garbage can. “Well, no backsies. The real test now will be if I can pass the 7-Eleven on the way home and not buy a new bag.”

  I almost said, “You can,” but I kept my mouth shut.

  AVA AFTER SCHOOL

  3/1

  7:30 P.M.

  DEAR DIARY,

  We just had a Meatless Monday dinner, and it was really good. I’d give it a 95. If vegetarian food were always that yummy, I would actually look forward to Mondays!

  Dad and I made it together. It was eggplant parmesan, and my main job was to peel and slice the eggplants. The skin was beautiful, shiny, and sort of midnight purple. Dad said the French word for the color—and vegetable—is aubergine and asked me to try to spell it. I hesitated because foreign words can be hard, but I got it right. Dad high-fived me.

  Then he started talking about how he used to cook with his father.

  “Back then, not many fathers cooked,” he said. “Let alone fathers and sons.”

  He told me his dad started the tradition of Irish breakfasts and Sunday sundaes. “He loved a good meal,” he said.

  Dad doesn’t talk about his dad very often, and I kept peeling because I wanted him to keep talking. All I really knew about my grandfather is that he died at age sixty, before I was born. And that everybody loved him. And that his hair was red, like Pip’s. And that he was good with words and liked to come up with limericks and funny toasts.

  “My father would have loved you, Ava. You and Pip.” Dad put down his knife and wiped his tomato-y hands on his apron. “He’d have taken you to plays and ball games and maybe even Ireland. I just wish he’d…taken better care of himself physically. His heart was in the right place, but it had to work too hard to sustain his body.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked quietly.