The Extraordinary Secrets of April, May, & June

by Robin Benway

  “I … I just can’t believe that there’s so much about European history that I don’t know!” I lied. I clapped my hand over my left kneecap, trying to keep it in place through sheer force of will. It was trembling under my skin, like ripples on water. “Will the royal lineages ever end? Keep going, so much to learn!”

  I hung in there for another ten minutes, gripping my arms tightly around my chest just in case my boobs decided to do a vanishing act, too. (Not that anyone would notice if they disappeared. They were barely present even before all this shit started to happen.) I watched the clock on the microwave as it ticked the minutes away, nodding and “Uh-huh”-ing to Henry’s comments as I tried to get through the rest of the session.

  The clocked flipped to eight, and I let out a huge sigh of relief. “Wow, eight o’clock already?” I said, interrupting Henry just as he started talking about some treaty. “God, I’m exhausted, aren’t you?”

  Henry looked over his shoulder at the clock. “Sure you don’t wanna go until eight thirty?”

  “My brain is fried,” I told him. I wondered if I stood up, would I look like Swiss cheese, with holes where all the important parts should be? “Can’t learn with a fried brain. It’s probably unethical.”

  The front door started to click open. “Hi!” my mom yelled. “I’m home!”

  “Oh, Christ,” I muttered, covering my eyes with my one good hand.

  “Hi, you must be Henry,” my mom said, her heels clacking on the floor as she came into the kitchen. “I’m May’s mother; it’s so nice to meet you.”

  “Oh, hi, Mrs. Stephenson, it’s nice to meet you.” I should have known that Henry would know how to do the Mom dance.

  It may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw my mom bristle at being called Mrs. Stephenson. She had gone back to her maiden name after the divorce, which had sort of hurt my feelings. I don’t know why. I guess it was just weird to have a mom with a different last name.

  Not that I wasn’t becoming adept at handling weirdness.

  “Henry was just finishing up,” I told my mom. “And leaving.”

  “You’re a trooper, Henry,” my mom said, grinning at him. “May doesn’t do well with history.”

  “I just find reality difficult enough,” I defended myself, not realizing how true the words were until they were out of my mouth.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll see you in school tomorrow, May?”

  I nodded at him. “Sure.”

  My mom looked over at me. “May,” she said slowly, “wouldn’t it be nice if you walked your friend to the door?” She raised an eyebrow.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. I have never had a panic attack before, but there’s a first time for everything.

  Henry raised his eyebrows at me so that his forehead wrinkled, and then shook his head and sighed before he grabbed his bag. “I can see myself out, Mrs. Stephenson.”

  The minute he was gone and the door shut behind him, my mom looked over at me. “Why,” she asked, “are you wearing all those clothes and blankets? Are you cold? Are you getting sick?”

  She reached out to touch my forehead, but I ducked away. “No, I’m fine. I just got a little cold sitting here.”

  We needed a subject change. Fast.

  “So how was Chad?” I asked. “Was he dreamy?”

  My mom shrugged. “Fine. He paid for dinner, so June will be happy about that.”

  “April will be thrilled, too.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. And what about you?” My mom eyed me. “What about you and Henry?”

  “Mooooom,” I said. “He’s just a tutor.”

  “All right,” she said. “But keep me updated, okay? Your mom likes to be in the loop.”

  “So Chad was just fine?”

  My mom paused, and when she looked over at me, she was smiling the same evil smile that I sometimes use. “He had a piece of spinach stuck right here,” she said, pointing to her upper incisor, “and he talked so much that I couldn’t even get a word in edgewise to tell him.”

  I started to laugh. “Are you serious?”

  My mom was laughing, too. “Unfortunately.”

  That was easily the best news I had had in days.

  “I’m gonna go upstairs and check on your sisters and change,” my mom said. “You okay down here?”

  “Peachy.” I was practically shaking from the effort of keeping it together, and I gritted my teeth together. Hang on, I thought to myself.

  My mom paused. “You sure you’re okay? You look a little … ?”

  “Flushed?”

  “Tense.”

  “Well, studying will do that to you.”

  She laughed and made her way upstairs. I sat there, listening to her footsteps as she went into June’s room, then April’s, then hers.

  The second the door shut, I was dashing upstairs. It was really weird to run and look down and not see feet, and I bolted for the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

  When I turned around, I couldn’t see myself in the mirror at all.

  I’m not sure how long I was there, but it was a while. I tried to talk myself into coming back, but it wouldn’t work. And I laid on the floor, full of frustration and not much else. I probably would have cried, except that I never cry. It’s just not my thing.

  And besides, what’s the point of crying if you can’t even see the tears?

  After a long time, June started knocking. “May,” she whined through the door. “I have to get ready for bed.”

  I ignored her.

  “Come onnnn,” she moaned. “Seriously. I have to cleanse and moisturize!”

  And suddenly I was back in my skin, angry at being interrupted, angry that I couldn’t control it, angry that it even was.

  “Oh, well, God forbid you can’t cleanse and moisturize!” I shot back, yanking the door open. June flounced in past me.

  “It’s important to have a daily routine,” she told me, then glanced over. “It wouldn’t hurt you. No offense.”

  “Yeah, well, I think anyone that spends that much on moisturizer is a moron. No offense.”

  “I hope you enjoy having crow’s feet when you’re older,” she retorted. “So did you have fun lying in here and being all miserable?”

  “Hey!” I said. “You can’t spy on me! I was—”

  “I didn’t spy!” June protested. “It’s not like it’s hard to figure out that you’d be moping in here.” She tied her hair in a messy bun and then pulled out all her little toiletry items and lined them up on the sink.

  Sometimes I think June’s biggest goal in life is to be in a Neutrogena commercial.

  “You know what else?” June said, but didn’t wait for me to answer. “You know earlier? When Mom was telling us about her date?”

  “Yeah, of course. It was only, like, three hours ago.”

  “And remember when you said, ‘Are you going on a date or something? ’ and she looked at you?”

  “You shuddered,” I said. “I remember that.”

  June looked over at me, and there was something in her hazel eyes that I hadn’t seen in months. She was scared, I realized.

  “What, June?” I said again. “What is it?”

  We probably would have stayed like that for a few more seconds, if April hadn’t woken up screaming.

  chapter 12

  “I can’t see anything.” june

  My liquid cleanser clattered onto the floor as May and I flew out of the bathroom at the same time, both of us charging down the hall. I think May even disappeared for a few seconds, I’m not sure, but we both arrived in April’s room at the same time. She looked like she had fallen asleep while studying in bed, her books scattered everywhere, and now her eyes were white and wide, her shoulders jerking with her breath.

  “What?” I gasped. “What is it? What’d you see?”

  April shook her head. “Dr-dream,” she managed to say. “Just a dream. Sorry.”

  I was already crawling up on the bed next to her. “It’s red,�
�� I told her. “Your brain, your thoughts, everything’s red.” I think my voice was shaking a little, and I couldn’t see past all the color in April’s mind. “What’s red? What is it? What’s that noise?”

  May tried to pull me back, but our mom arrived in the doorway before I could move. “April?” she said. “Honey, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine,” April said. “Really, I am, it was just a crazy dream.”

  I shook my head. She was pushing me out, thinking of everything under the sun to keep me away. It almost physically hurt, that’s how forceful the thoughts were. “Stop it,” I whispered. “I can’t see anything. Stop doing that.”

  “June.” My mom came into the room and put herself between April and me, gathering April up as she put one hand on my cheek. “June, honey, give her some space.”

  I stood there and looked at April, who just looked back at me with those same scary ice-blue eyes. She had seen something, and she was cutting me out of it.

  I think even May knew it, too.

  “April,” I said urgently. “Come on. Tell me.”

  May came over to the bed and sat down next to me, pulling me back away from April. “It’s fine, June,” she said. “Just leave her alone. It’s nothing.”

  I just tugged myself away from her and scooted to the end of the bed. I didn’t know how to explain how upset April was, but I could feel it. It was like hearing the scary music on a movie but not being able to see the picture, and I couldn’t believe that my sister wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. She was my sister! Wasn’t that the deal between siblings? Especially us?

  April was still panting a little, and our mom rubbed her arm and looked down at her. “You okay?” she murmured.

  “Fine,” April said. “Really, it was just stupid.”

  “Liar,” I whispered, soft enough so that only I could hear it. May put her arm around my shoulders and squeezed, which is not something she normally does. I guess I looked pretty emotional.

  I didn’t want anyone to touch me, though, not when they were just going to lie to me. I shrugged May’s arm off and got down from the bed. “Whatever,” I spat. “I’m going back to sleep. Have fun figuring out your issues, April.”

  “June—” my mom started to say, but April sat up and disentangled herself from my mom’s arms. “I’m fine,” she said. “Really, Mom, I’m okay. June’s just pissed about something else.”

  My mom looked at her warily. “You sure?”

  April nodded. “I’m fine,” she said for what seemed like the millionth time. “I had a Coke before I went to bed. Stupid idea.”

  She was lying. I knew it.

  She was lying to me.

  But what April didn’t know was that I had secrets, too.

  When I first started reading minds, I got a lot of mixed signals. It still happens sometimes, like when I thought this guy Travis was thinking about bra shopping, but it was actually the girl next to him. (That was a weird moment for sure.) Even when I heard the things that Jessica and Daphne were thinking about Mariah throughout the day, I thought they were coming from someone else.

  What a bitch.

  She thinks she’s so great. Everyone knows she totally stuffed her bra last year. What a joke.

  But when I heard my mom’s thoughts as she announced that she had a date that evening, I knew what I was hearing wasn’t a mistake.

  She was surprised that May knew she had a date. She thought it was weird. And then she thought how much May reminded her of her mother, our grandmother.

  And she thought how much it seemed like her mom was always able to read her mind.

  I couldn’t go to sleep for the longest time, even after April calmed down and everyone else went to bed. My brain felt like it was hooked up to a battery or something, it was so twitchy. So I waited until both my sisters were fast asleep, their minds all trippy and weird from dreams (May dreams about a rhinoceros sometimes, that’s how bizarre she is), and then I got out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to my mom’s room.

  The light was still on under her door. “Mom?” I whispered, using one knuckle to knock. “You there?”

  “June?” she called, and I pushed the door open. She was reading in bed, and the bed looked all huge and empty when it was just her in there. She still slept on the same side that she always did, and I wondered if my dad did the same thing in Houston.

  The thought made my heart feel lonely, like when you see a sad movie but you can’t cry in front of your friends or something. It sort of hurt.

  “Hi,” I said, standing in the doorway.

  She took off her reading glasses and set the book down. “Hi, babe. What’s up?”

  “The roof,” I said automatically, a total May line. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  She sighed and beckoned me over, and I climbed up on the bed next to her and put my head in her lap, just like I used to do when I was a little kid. “Did April freak you out?” she asked quietly.

  “No.” A lot of things had freaked me out, but it wasn’t like I could tell her.

  “You sure? Things are weird right now, Junie Bee, aren’t they?”

  I nodded. “Really weird. Can I ask you a question?”

  She stroked my bangs back from my face. “Sure. Fire away.”

  “What was Grandma like?”

  Her hand froze in my hair, and I glanced up. There was confusion and sadness and genuine curiosity. Why is she asking me this?

  “I’m just curious,” I said. “We never talk about her, and today we were talking about family trees at school.” A total lie, but whatever. These were desperate times.

  My mom took a deep breath. “She died when I was fifteen,” she told me. “It was very difficult. I didn’t have brothers, or even sisters like you do, and your grandfather was … What do you girls always say? Old-school?”

  I grinned. “Old-school, yeah.”

  “Well, that was him. He wasn’t a man who talked a lot about his feelings. Or my feelings.”

  “Is that why you always want us to talk and share and be all bond-y?”

  “Part of it, yes.”

  “So, okay, but what was Grandma like?”

  My mom paused even longer this time, and I saw three people, three women’s faces. “Did she have sisters?” I asked, then added, “Or brothers?” before it looked too suspicious.

  “Yes, she did, actually. Two sisters, just like you.”

  “And what were they like?” I was starting to get a prickly feeling under my skin. I wondered if this was what May felt like whenever she disappeared, like the line between two worlds was being erased.

  “I … I don’t really know. I never saw one of them. Your grandma said she was a hermit, but I don’t think she was serious. Anyway, she lived off the coast of Maine somewhere. And the other sister, she was really bossy. A know-it-all. Grandma didn’t like her very much, but she was always visiting, anyway.”

  The prickly feeling picked up some steam. “And Grandma was … ?”

  “A lot like you, actually. The youngest. Funny. Always up to something. She liked to be wherever the action was.” My mom rested her hand on top of my head, and I could tell she was thinking again. “She was very intuitive,” she said. “ She was a wonderful mother in that way. She seemed to always know just how I felt and what to do about it. She always knew what to say to make someone feel better, or help in some way.”

  I thought about how I ratted out Jessica and Daphne, and my stomach flipped. “Oh,” I said. And then, despite my flippy stomach, I asked, “How did she die?”

  My mom didn’t seem to notice how high my voice was. “Heart attack. She was way too young for it, but that’s what happened.”

  I thought for a minute. “Maybe her heart was just too big, you know? Like, if she had all that intuition, maybe she just couldn’t handle feeling what everyone else was feeling all the time.”

  Oops, I scared her, my mom thought, and I quickly rolled over and smiled at her, even though my insides were trembling. “W
as she pretty like me, too?” I grinned.

  “Not as gorgeous as you,” my mom laughed. “But yes, she was beautiful.”

  “Mom?”

  “Hmm?”>

  “Why’d you name us April, May, and June?”

  “You know why. Those are the months that you were born.”

  “Yeah, but everybody always makes fun of us. You couldn’t have been more creative?”

  “Have a baby every thirteen months for three years and tell me how creative you feel,” she replied, but then stopped herself. “Actually, I take that back. Do not have three babies in three years, not until you’re at least thirty-five.”

  “You could have named me after Grandma,” I offered.

  My mom paused. “You’d want to be named Gladys?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Ew. No. Mom?”

  “Yeah?”>

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Junie Bee.” My mom kissed my forehead. “Go to bed.”

  And I did.

  The next morning, I was over it. I didn’t even bother to wait for my sisters or beg a ride off of April to school. I walked instead, glad to be by myself and surrounded by random thoughts. (You’d be amazed at how many people driving to work each morning hate their jobs.)

  I didn’t even see my sisters until the snack break, and even then, it was by accident. I was looking for Mariah, but instead I saw April and May standing by May’s locker, their heads together as they talked. May looked concerned and worried, and April just looked as tense as she normally did. But as soon as I saw them, both April and May suddenly stood up straight and looked towards me.

  April had seen me approaching, obviously. Their thoughts were all muddled up now as they stared at me, thinking about homework and Stanford and lunches on the grass, nothing that made any real sense. “Whatever,” I said as I breezed past them. “You have issues.”

  “You’re not ditching today again, are you?” April asked.

  “You would know,” I replied.

  “Let me rephrase,” May interrupted. “You’re not ditching today again.”

  I just glared at her. “Your moral high road is not all that high, you know.”