Pancakes!
Mom looked at Dad the way she did when she wanted him to say something. But he was reading the menu again. So she spoke to me. That isn’t the healthy choice, Audrey.
I ordered the eggs and bacon, I said. That’s what you wanted me to do.
Clare said loudly, I’ll have the Belgian waffles. Extra whipped cream and berries.
Clare! Mom said. Do you have to be so difficult?
The server looked back and forth between them. No one said anything. Eventually she jotted it down on her pad.
I don’t know why you want that crap anyway, Adam said. Hash browns are the best. And coffee. Can I get a coffee please?
Dad turned to the server. No coffee for him.
You’re Ruiners of Fun, Adam said, and gave me a wink.
Yes, your parents who love you and take you out for a nice breakfast are Ruiners of Fun. Mom snapped her menu closed. She ordered a yogurt parfait and a coffee. Her cheeks were red.
The server left and we sat in silence for a long time.
Dad cleared his throat. So, a new extracurricular activity, Audrey. Any ideas?
None.
How about ballet?
I made a face.
Okay, are you interested in any sports?
I used to like playing Four Square at school.
Four Square isn’t a sport, honey.
It should be. It uses all your muscles.
Adam was stacking creamers into a tall tower. How about karate? Audrey meets Mortal Kombat.
Spinning bird kick! I cried in a high-pitched voice.
Adam laughed.
Dad looked to Mom and shrugged. Karate?
She shrugged back. Karate.
Karate it is, then. It will be good for her. It’s good for young women to learn self-defense.
I was pretty excited about karate. It meant I could beat up my enemies. Or at least scare them away. I imagined doing spinning bird kick on Sharon and instantly felt better.
No one wanted to mess with spinning bird kick.
So Mom signed me up for karate in the summer and took me to buy a gi and a white belt. But karate was not what I expected. It wasn’t even in a real dojo. It was in a gymnasium at the health club.
We started off the class running lines. There were court lines painted on the wood and we ran to the first line and back. Second line and back. Third line and back and I wanted to fall over and die.
Then he said, Ten pushups!
Everyone dropped to the floor. The girl beside me was doing real pushups, not the ones they let the girls do in school. I did the same. Afterward I could barely breathe.
The instructor pulled what looked like thick pillows out of the closet. He pushed them farther into the gym.
We’re going to do sets of ten punches, he said.
Beside me there was a super-tall and wide guy. He looked like he could be a character in Mortal Kombat.
Get into pairs, he said. One of you holds the bag, the other punches. Then switch it up.
Everyone ran away from the big guy. Everyone except for me. He looked down at me and shrugged. I shrugged back. He picked up a punching bag.
The teacher walked over to us. I’ll demonstrate.
The big guy held up the bag. The instructor punched like he was trying to do it in slow motion.
Both hands are in a fist. Stand facing the bag with your hips shoulder-width apart. Bring one arm forward and, at the same time, bring the other arm back. See? It’s all about maintaining self-control. As your punching arm comes forward, it rotates into the punch. Kiya! Slow and controlled. Can you do ten?
Everyone was watching.
I stepped up in front of the guy. Adam would call him a meathead. He smiled at me and I felt bad for thinking it.
Anytime, Audrey.
I mimicked what the teacher did. One arm forward, the other arm back. My fist hit the bag softly.
Good control. Now hit a little harder, and this time, as your fist makes contact, shout Kiya!
Everyone was still watching.
One arm forward, the other arm back. Kiya!
Come on, Audrey. You could barely hear yourself.
I took a deep breath. Fine. I’ll do it right. This time I moved faster, harder, and punched the bag with all my strength. Kiya!
His lip did a twitchy thing. He put a fist to his mouth and coughed but it didn’t trick me. I knew he was laughing at me.
All the guys were smiling.
I wished I could spinning bird kick through all those smiling faces.
I finished my ten punches and then took the bag. It was even worse. Meathead crouched down and tapped the bag lightly. Like he was afraid I’d fall over.
Then we switched back and practiced kicks.
Rotate at the hips. The top of the foot, not the toes, makes contact with the bag. Like this. He demonstrated with Meathead again.
Luckily he didn’t watch me this time.
My karate gi was stiff. It rode up when I kicked and the collar scratched the back of my neck. It was itchy. I hated it. I wished I could be home on the couch with Adam playing Mortal Kombat instead.
I said I had to go to the bathroom but I didn’t go. Instead I went to the information desk and asked to use the phone. I called Mom but no answer. I called Dad but no answer. So then I called home.
Clare answered.
Can I talk to Mom or Dad?
Aren’t you in karate right now? I could hear Mario being played in the background.
Yeah but I hate it. My karate gi is too stiff. It keeps rubbing the back of my neck.
Silence. Then: They’re out for dinner. You know, on a date.
I need to come home, Clare.
No, you don’t. Just handle it. Okay? There was a shuffling noise and then Adam spoke. Audrey? You okay?
I just want to come home. I could feel the tears pricking my eyes. I was always the crying one.
What happened?
I just hate it. Karate. I want to come home.
I’ll be right there. Wait by the front doors.
The call ended and I went straight to the front doors. I didn’t bother telling the instructor I was leaving. I’d never see him again anyway.
There was a bench by the door and I sat down there. The sky had lines of orange and purple. It was pretty.
I wasn’t sure how long I waited. I didn’t have a watch. The lines were gone and the sky was dark when people I recognized started coming out of the building. They were wearing normal clothes now. The real-pushups girl. The meathead.
He stopped beside me and frowned. The lines in his forehead frowned too. Everything okay?
I nodded because I was too scared to speak.
Waiting for someone to pick you up?
I nodded again.
Okay. He disappeared into the parking lot.
Mom and Dad’s car sped up to the curb and stopped. Dad jumped out, his face flushed. Hey, honey, sorry we’re late. The bill took forever.
Adam’s supposed to pick me up, I said.
No he’s not. We are.
I called him to come early.
Why?
I didn’t like it.
I see. Dad pulled out his phone. Yeah, there’s a voicemail from him. I’ll call back and tell him we’ve got you. Get in the car.
The moon was surrounded by dark clouds, like it was Halloween instead of July. I climbed into the back of the car. Dad called Adam three times but there was no answer. He frowned down at the phone.
That’s weird. Adam called forty minutes ago. Why isn’t he here yet?
Why would Adam be here? Mom asked.
Audrey called him to pick her up early. She didn’t like karate.
Mom twisted around to face me. Why didn’t you like karate?
This was why I didn’t do extracurricular activities. I didn’t answer. Mom turned back around.
Should we wait for Adam? she asked Dad.
No, he probably got sidetracked. I’ll send him a text letting him k
now we got her and we’re on the way home.
Traffic was stopped by the Safeway. Dad rolled down the window and stuck his head out.
Two cars went through the light. That’s it! Two measly cars!
There must be an accident, Mom said.
My stomach was sore. I tried to remember if I’d eaten dinner. Right, I’d had macaroni and cheese with Clare and Adam.
We waited. Another two cars went through the light. We inched forward.
This is ridiculous! It’s going to take us hours to get home.
Another two cars. More inching. Dad’s road rage increased. He let out a string of curses. Mom turned around in her seat and asked me again why I didn’t like karate.
The gi was itchy and they laughed at me when I punched.
Sweetie, it was your first time. You just need practice. Don’t let them upset you.
Finally we made it through the light. Dad let out a little cheer. Traffic was slow but at least we were moving. We turned the corner and finally we could see the flashing lights. There were two cop cars and a fire truck but we couldn’t see the accident.
That was because the driver’s car had rolled down the hill into the river.
We’d just pulled up to the house when Dad’s phone rang. There he is. Dad answered, speaking louder. Hey, buddy! It’s okay, we’ve got your sister.
Someone else responded. I could hear it even from the back seat. Someone with a much deeper voice than Adam.
What? What are you talking about? He just left to pick up my daughter.
The deep echoing voice responded.
How do you know? How do you know it’s him?
Stewart? Mom put a hand on his arm. What’s going on?
Dad’s face was white. His hand on the phone began to shake. He pulled it away from his ear and I thought he might throw it. Instead Mom took it from him.
Hello? Hello? This is Margaret, Stewart’s wife. Who is this?
Dad was lying against the steering wheel. Both his hands were tangled in his hair. His shoulders began to shake.
Mom’s voice pierced my ears. No. No, I don’t believe you. Tell me he’s going to be okay!
I looked up at the house. Clare threw open the front door to see what we were all doing still in the car. As she approached us, her smile faltered. She looked first at our parents.
Then she looked at me.
* * *
Now I slouch in my seat so I can’t see out the window. How stupid I was then. How immature. To think I would be good enough at karate to scare Sharon out of bullying me.
Life isn’t a movie, Audrey.
The only way you’re special is that you’re weird.
I ball my hands into fists. Thumb on the outside like karate taught me. If I’d known what taking up karate would cost, I would have tried ballet. Gymnastics. Curling.
I’m sorry, Adam. I say it again in my mind. The image of three screaming mouths returns just as we pull up at Freak.
Things get worse when I walk into the classroom. If you can believe it.
First of all, Marianne is sick. This is bad news because I like Marianne.
Second of all, Marianne is sick. Monsieur Martin is always in a terrible mood when he has to teach us by himself.
Audrey! he says the moment I walk into the classroom.
I’m hanging up my coat and can’t hear him. But I know he has already said my name when he says it again louder. AUDREY.
I check the wall clock. It’s 8:39. One minute to spare. I’m not late. I check to make sure I have my backpack. It’s heavy so I know I have my books, too. My shoes are already off and lined up in their cubby.
Come to my desk, Audrey. I know he’s angry because he’s pinching his nose.
I’m having an OFF day, I tell him when I get there. To be safe.
Why is that, Audrey?
Because every day can’t be an ON day.
Right. Audrey, this morning the gym teacher brought to my attention that you were late for gym last Thursday. After lunch.
I was late? I repeat what he said in my mind. The light above me is making a buzzing sound. It’s very distracting. How could I have been late after lunch? The bell rings and I follow everyone into school. I go into the locker room and get changed for gym.
Audrey, what were you doing on Thursday that made you late?
Oh. That’s right. Thursday was the day before the long weekend.
I was late because I left the school grounds, I tell him.
Monsieur Martin’s eyes open really wide. He puts his glasses back on and wipes a hand along his mouth. You left the school grounds?
Yes. I went to a park. I met a boy there. His name is Calvin.
Monsieur Martin blinks at me. He blinks again. Then he smiles. It’s the largest smile I have ever seen on Monsieur Martin.
Congratulations, Audrey! This is great news.
It is? Monsieur Martin is still smiling. What made you leave?
I wanted to be more mature.
Génial! Monsieur Martin claps his hands together. Do you know what this means? The significance? You broke your routine, Audrey.
But I was late, I say. I broke the rules.
Ça n’a pas d’importance, he says. Then he shakes his head. I mean, rules are important. Yes. You should follow them and I’m going to have to give you a tardy. I’m not happy that you were late. I’m happy that you stretched yourself. Life isn’t always black and white, Audrey.
When he finishes talking I go back to my desk. I sit and stare at the board until I’m not sure if it’s black with white words, or white with black painted around all the letters.
* * *
Even though we already celebrated our birthdays last night, we have cheese fondue followed by chocolate fondue for dessert.
The fruit is very healthy, I told Mom and Dad when they asked what I wanted. And cheese is full of protein. It’s my birthday.
I can only play that card once a year.
As I’m about to dunk a slice of banana into chocolate lava, the phone rings.
Aren’t you going to get that? Mom says to Clare. It’s probably for you.
Clare shakes her head. She looks white like her plate. She didn’t care what we had for dinner because she said she was too sick to eat anyway. I suggested taking her to the doctor but Clare said that I go to the doctor over every little thing. Then she called me a hypochondriac.
Mom answers the phone and her eyes widen. It’s probably Monsieur Martin calling to tell her I was late. My hands start to shake. If he tells Mom, Mom will tell Dad. Then they will “discuss.”
I think of Mario falling off the cliff. Game over.
Mom has a strange expression on her face. I’m not sure what it means. Audrey, she says. It’s for you.
It’s for Audrey? Dad is surprised. I can hear it in his voice.
It is. Mom’s voice sounds the same as Dad’s now. And it’s a boy!
I don’t get up. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
Mom clears her throat and says into the receiver, Can I ask who’s speaking and what this is in regards to? Then she covers it and says, His name is Calvin and he just wants to talk. He’s probably calling to wish you Happy Birthday!
I feel my face go hot again and cover it with my hands. Through my fingers I can see Clare staring at me. Her mouth is set in a straight line so I can’t tell what she is thinking.
Finally she says, You like a boy named Calvin?
I slide under the table and onto the floor.
Audrey can’t come to the phone right now, I hear Mom say. Can I take your number?
I hear her hang up and then everyone starts talking. But no one is talking to me because I’m still under the table. There are a few pieces of food under here. Maybe they should reconsider getting a dog.
Is Calvin a boy from school? Dad asks.
No, I know most of the kids, Mom answers. I’ve never heard of a Calvin.
It’s probably for a school project, Clare says. Don’t ma
ke such a big deal out of it.
He didn’t say it was for a school project. He said he wants to talk. This is the first time a boy has ever called the house! Mom elicits a very high-pitched sound that makes me jump and hit my head on the table.
Dad’s head appears in front of me. A floating head like he has a go-go-gadget neck.
Kiddo, do you have a boyfriend you haven’t told us about?
I turn and crawl away from him as fast as I can go.
I think we embarrassed her, I hear Mom say.
Upstairs in my room I close the door and pace back and forth with my hands covering my face. Still hot. Does Calvin expect me to call him back tonight? I can’t do that. I’m not very good at talking on the phone. I don’t know when it’s my turn to talk and I always interrupt. Dr. Jackson says I require “facial cues,” but he also says I miss those.
Sometimes it feels like I can’t get anything right.
I didn’t expect Calvin to call. He said he wanted to talk but why? Maybe more gophers needed saving. Maybe he collected all the traps and threw them into a dumpster.
Maybe I should go back and do that.
There’s a sound outside my door. I freeze. A piece of paper slides under the door. I know what it is right away because it’s all numbers and two words.
Calvin Hilton.
That is a very good sign. Like my name, it can be broken into two groups of six, three groups of four, or four groups of three. Personally, I like to break sentences down into as many groups as possible.
(Cal)(vin)(Hil)(ton).
I wish Mom had thought to ask his middle name too.
Dad asked if Calvin is my boyfriend. Is he my boyfriend? How does he become my boyfriend?
If Calvin becomes my boyfriend, we can go to movies on Saturday night. I won’t have to stay at home and read alone.
If Calvin becomes my boyfriend, I can update my Facebook profile and everyone will know. They won’t think I’m weird anymore.
Calvin is the most exciting thing to happen to me in a long time.
But what if I call him back and he finds out I go to Peak? Then he won’t want to be my boyfriend or even my friend. And Calvin is the first potential friend I’ve had in years.
I fold the paper carefully and slip it into my sketchbook. I want it to be closest to the most personal part of me.
Under Shifting Stars Page 7