by Abby Cooper
“Rafael, tell them the best part,” Kaya yelled over her shoulder in a loud singsongy voice.
Kaya never used a loud singsongy voice. We made fun of loud singsongy voices.
“Viv’s mom thought we did such a good job that she gave us these fancy wristbands! We are such legit biker people now it’s unbelievable.” He held out his arm and rolled his jacket sleeve up so I could see the thick black band around his wrist. “She even gave us a special pass so we can go to another class even though we’re so young.”
“Cool,” I squeaked.
Kaya turned and skipped back so she was with the rest of us instead of a hundred miles ahead. Her hair was down, blowing around in the breeze, and the smile on her face was gigantic. She looked like she could rocket right off the ground and fly the rest of the way home. I should have been excited for her, but if there were a bubble over my head it’d say Not excited for Kaya. Terrible friend. Should be forced to fall off a fake bike a hundred times over.
“I asked if we could have one for you, too,” she said to me. “But she didn’t think that was a good idea. Sorry.” Then she slowed down a lot and said quietly, “Viv isn’t going to replace you or anything. You’re still our best friend.”
My already messed-up heart felt like somebody had poked it with William Wallace’s famous sword from the Wars of Scottish Independence in the thirteenth century. It was just … no. Viv replacing me—what if that was her project?
No. It couldn’t be. But wasn’t it kinda weird that she kept looking at Kaya and me at school and talking to us in the hall and now she was doing our triathlon and inviting my friends to all these spin classes? It was almost like Viv was trying to steal them.
It was a lot like that, actually.
A thick lump formed in my throat and I couldn’t swallow it no matter how hard I tried. Sure, Kaya said Viv wouldn’t replace me, but that was now. What about after their next spin class? What if Viv was amazing at everything and I continued to be terrible? What if Rafael started liking Viv more than he liked me? What if he already did?
I looked up at the dark sky, waiting, watching, hoping. Come on, Rafael’s bubble. But it didn’t come. Ms. Wolfson started walking next to me and talking to me about cribbage, but I couldn’t pay attention. All I could see were Rafael’s and Kaya’s backs as they walked up ahead, talking about spinning or Viv or whatever, going on without me.
17
HIGHLIGHTS
After we dropped Kaya and Rafael off and said good night, I went upstairs to find Mom on the couch poring over Weaver’s Weekly. She looked up at me with sad eyes. She didn’t say “How was practice?” or “Why were you gone for so long?” or “Did you eat pancakes without me?” She didn’t say anything at all.
So I said, “I fell off a stationary bike,” because why not?
“Oh yeah?” She motioned for me to join her on the couch. I plopped down and snuggled up beside her, stealing some of the wool blanket to cover my tired, achy, bruise-y legs.
Neither of us said anything for a minute. I could tell Mom was trying to act normal, but there was nothing normal about dabbing at her eyes every two seconds for what felt like the zillionth day in a row.
She sniffled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “So are you okay? From your fall?”
“Yeah. I’m gonna have a major bruise though.”
“And how are your, um, bubble things doing?”
I frowned. We both knew I couldn’t really talk to her about it. She was like the Colossus of Rhodes (one of the tallest, coolest statues of the ancient world) during the earthquake of 226 B.C.: falling apart, piece by piece.
“They’re still there. They’re okay. I’m dealing.”
Neither of us said anything for a minute. Mom gave me a little more of the blanket.
“I haven’t been that great of a mom lately,” she said. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I’m just so…” Her voice cracked and trailed off.
“It’s okay. I know it won’t last forever.” I gave the piece of blanket back to her.
Know was kind of a strong word, based on how everything had gone today. I wasn’t going to be a doormat about it—I’d keep trying—but maybe the super awesome triathlon scene in my head wasn’t going to happen. Especially if I couldn’t even stay on the dumb bike. How was I going to win the race—or even do the race—if I couldn’t stay on the dumb bike?
Mom reached out and tucked one of my curls behind my ear, something she hadn’t done in ages.
“No, it won’t last forever,” she said. Then her bubble added, But I really don’t know that for a fact.
* * *
Mom must’ve done all her weird whimper noises while I was out, because it seemed like she didn’t have any left for bedtime, so that was good. I stayed up till way past droopy-eyelid time just to make sure she got in bed okay and didn’t cry.
While I stayed awake, I decided to catch up on my Internet stalking. Mom and I shared the computer, but she let me keep it in my room. I went to Pratik’s online profile first and noticed that he had a whole bunch of new friends. They looked awesome. Their pictures showed them dancing in fancy outfits, smiling around a campfire, and making funny faces with cute little kids. I wondered if that was what their lives were really like, or if they were just showing off the highlights, like Ms. Wolfson said. Ms. Wolfson was talking about real people, not about online profiles, but was there really that much of a difference? After all, your profile was supposed to show your life.
A little red icon popped up, saying that I had two new updates. I clicked on it.
Rafael Garcia is now friends with Viv Carlson, it said.
Kaya Lewis is now friends with Viv Carlson
Everyone is now friends with Viv Carlson
Probably even Pratik is now friends with Viv Carlson
Because seriously, everyone is now friends with Viv Carlson
Except you, Sophie
So that’s awkward
It didn’t really say those last few things, but that’s what it felt like. I saw the words so clearly in my mind that it was kind of a surprise not to see them on the website.
I knew there wouldn’t be anything there, but I clicked on my friend requests just in case. The notification didn’t always come up, so I could totally have had one that just wasn’t showing up because sometimes the Internet was a mystery.
But I didn’t have a friend request. Not one. Not even from some random old-person relative or a stranger who was actually a spammy robot whose friendship you’re supposed to reject.
I sighed and shut our computer down. There was no point in staring at the little “0 requests” sad-face-icon guy. And there was the fact that I didn’t want to be friends with Viv anyway.
But everybody else did, all of a sudden. Viv with her orange mom and her fancy spinning leggings and her triathloning “for fun” and her risk project that was “more challenging,” like ours was the easiest thing on the planet.
Well, we’d see how easy she thought it was when I won first place.
I rubbed my bruise-free leg so it would be in tip-top shape for our next practice. Yeah, Viv was perfect in pretty much every way. But, I wondered, a small smile inching onto my face—could she swim?
18
BUBBLES ARE UPON US
“How are you?”
“Fine, how are you?”
No answer. Dr. Llama just sat there looking at me and not talking. Maybe he wanted to go back to sleep. I did. It was way hard being up this early on a Saturday, even for a morning person like me.
“I fell off a bike that wasn’t moving,” I told him. I was seriously going to fall asleep in this chair (which was a teeny bit comfier than it was last time) if we didn’t start talking soon. “Ridiculous, right? My bruise is gigantic. Like I have more bruise than leg.”
He didn’t say anything, so I kept talking. I talked about the risk project, about agreeing to do the triathlon, about how I hoped that doing it and winning it would bring Mom (and me) back to normal. The
words just kept spilling out of me. I told him about feeling weird that Kaya and Rafael were awesome at biking and had spent extra time together without me, but how I couldn’t be mad at them because they were doing the race for me; they were trying to help me even though now it sorta seemed like they were more interested in spinning and wristbands than they were in making sure I was myself again.
And then I talked more about the bikes.
“Normal bikes aren’t like that. It was such a weird bike. That’s probably why I fell off it.”
Dr. Llama frowned. I bet he could tell that I had about as much athletic ability as the paintings on his wall.
“I don’t know.” I slumped down in the chair and silently promised myself that I’d stop talking soon. “Maybe it’s because the bubbles are interrupting my concentration. Sometimes I wish they would go away, but a lot of the time I wish they said more. So basically I’m a big bundle of confusion.”
There. I zipped my lips shut. I was done.
“The end,” I added.
Dr. Llama didn’t say anything for a few minutes. He just looked at me, and looked at the paintings, and then he finally asked in his calm, quiet, llama-y voice, “Did you ever hear the story about the king?”
I un-slumped myself from the chair as fast as I could.
“Which one? King Henry VII of England? Louis XIII of France? Felipe or Ferdinand of Spain?”
He laughed. “No king in particular. Take your pick.”
“Wait, why not a queen?”
He scratched his chin. “I’m not sure. It could be a queen.”
Queens did cool queenly things throughout history, but kings usually got all the credit.
“Let’s make it a queen,” I said.
Dr. Llama smiled. “So this queen,” he said. “She decided she would go to war. The troops from the other side surrounded her castle, and the knight came to alert her that they were there. But I don’t want to go to war, the queen exclaimed. But, madam, said the knight. It’s too late. War is upon us.”
He looked me in the eyes. “War is upon us,” he repeated. “Whether you like them or not, you’ve been given these bubbles. What you do next is up to you. But the bubbles are upon you. And so is this triathlon. Everything you’ve just described is upon you. Some of it you chose. Some of it you didn’t. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s all happening.”
He was right. There wasn’t really a choice to make. I couldn’t decide if I wanted the bubbles or not, because they were already here. I had them. They were mine.
“What did the queen do next?” I asked.
But Dr. Llama didn’t answer. He smiled, stood up, and opened the door, pointing to the room where Mom was waiting.
We were done for the day.
19
NOODLING AND OTHER NON-DROWNING ACTIVITIES
I thought about queens the whole bus ride from therapy. One of the coolest queens in history was Eleanor of Aquitaine. She didn’t like some of the stuff her husband was doing, and neither did her kids, so she supported them when they wanted to start a big revolt in 1173. Her husband was so mad about it that he locked her away in jail. She only got to be free because eventually he died and one of their kids took over and let her out.
A whole lot of stuff was upon Eleanor of Aquitaine. But if she could deal with a revolt and heavy-duty jail time, then I could deal with some bubbles and some sports. And this practice would be easy, anyway. It was just swimming. I could definitely swim.
When Mom and I got home, I grabbed my swimming suit and headed to the gym to meet Kaya and Rafael. This time, we changed in the fancy locker rooms with ginormous lockers and rooms filled with steam, and once we met up again, we walked in the opposite direction of the terrible Spin Room of Doom, which was good news. I did not need to see those phony bikes again for a long, long time (or ever, if I could help it).
We passed a sign that said INDOOR POOL and turned down a winding hallway that reeked of chlorine. To me, it smelled pretty gross, but to Kaya, I could tell, it smelled like her worst fear come true.
“I can’t do it.” She plopped down right there on the floor in the middle of the hallway. Then she took her towel and put it on top of her head like she wanted it to make her invisible.
“Kaya, we can still see you.” I sat down beside her and grabbed the towel from her head. “And now we can really see you!”
Even though the area was warm, she was totally shaking from head to toe. Seeing her all shaky made me feel all shaky, and I wasn’t even scared. Or maybe I was. She was doing this because of me, and I had to make sure it went well, even if maybe she’d rather be here with Viv Carlson instead of me.
“Kaya, you can totally do this,” I said.
I can’t, her bubble argued.
What if she couldn’t do this?
“You are perfectly healthy,” I continued. “You are smart. You do not fall off stationary bikes.”
What if I couldn’t do this?
I tried to make my voice come out normal, but it was as wobbly as my body had been before I fell off that dumb bike.
“We’ll be there for you the whole entire time,” Rafael said. “Plus, there are noodles.”
“Noodles?” Kaya made a face like he’d actually said tarantulas.
“Yes, noodles,” Rafael said. “They’re so great for noodling! And other non-drowning activities.”
Kaya took a big, long breath, and looked at both of us looking at her.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“This is the part where you get up and we go swim,” Rafael told her, but she didn’t budge.
“No one’s going to let you drown,” he said. “Remember the other night after spin class, before Sophie got there, when we were by the vending machines and you almost tripped over your shoelace and went flying?”
They hung out by the vending machines after spin class?
“Yeah, I remember.” Kaya smiled.
“And what happened?” Rafael asked.
“I didn’t.”
Was it just my imagination, or were her eyes extra twinkly all of a sudden?
“And why not?”
“Because you caught me and made me stand still, and Viv tied my shoe for me so I could have my hands free to tell the vending machine what I wanted before it forgot I had put money in.”
She stood up.
“Exactly. So, it’ll be like that. Only no laces in the way!”
Now Kaya was grinning. Rafael linked his arm through hers and practically pulled her down the hall.
I trailed after them with my arms crossed over my chest. The hallway was pretty narrow, but there was totally room for three people to all link arms and walk together. So why hadn’t anybody grabbed on to me? If Viv Carlson was here, would they have grabbed on to her?
It was great that Kaya was about to go swim and face one of her biggest fears, and I was sorta excited to get in the pool and help her. But if that was true, then why did I feel like I was sinking?
20
THE POOL
We went into the pool area and looked around. Aside from a small group of kids and a lady in a fancy swim cap, it was pretty empty.
“So … what now?” Kaya twirled a huge chunk of hair.
“Cannonball?”
We both shot Rafael a look.
“Or we could sit.” He pointed to the edge near the shallow end.
Kaya took a deep breath. “Sitting would be good.”
So we plopped down by the shallow end of the pool, the three of us in a row with me in the middle. I breathed in that weird/awesome Rafael-y smell, feeling like a major creeper. But there was something calming about it. Kaya needed jokes to relax, and I needed to creepily inhale the scent of a boy who probably needed to start wearing deodorant.
I looked at Kaya on my other side. Something was different about her today but I couldn’t figure out what it was, aside from her new online friendship with Viv and her hilarious shoe-tying/going-flying story from after
spin class. It wasn’t that. It was something in the way she looked. Her hair was long and flowy like normal, and her braces were still there, still the same light pink color they’d been all week. So what was it?
Aha! I knew what it was. Kaya didn’t have leg hair anymore.
It might have been a weird thing to notice. Maybe it was strange to be looking at my best friend’s legs this closely, or at all. But that’s what was different. I checked her arms, just to make sure. Even in the dim pool lights, I could see the thin black lines sprouting every which way. But there weren’t any on her legs. They looked shinier and smoother than the kitchen table right after we cleaned up from dinner.
I glanced down at my own short, stubby legs. I knew I was shorter than both of them, but my legs were seriously little compared to Kaya’s, which were long and thin and dipped way far down into the pool. Plus, mine had clumps—clumps!—of brownish hair going in every direction. Ew! How had I never noticed this before? My legs were so gross. No wonder Kaya was better at spinning; she didn’t have like a thousand pounds of leg hair weighing her down. And no wonder Rafael was looking at her like she’d been declared an Olympic swimmer. She was turning into a supermodel while I was turning into a grizzly bear.
“Well, this has been some great sitting,” Rafael said after we’d all been quiet for a few minutes. “Cannonball time?”
He was definitely getting antsy, and so was Kaya. Maybe I was, too. But all I knew about what to do next was that it probably shouldn’t be a cannonball if we didn’t want to send Kaya running away screaming.
“Maybe we should practice kicking,” I said. “That’s a pretty important part of swimming.”
“Yeah!” Kaya shot Rafael a humongous grin, like it had been his idea and not mine. I made a face, but no one seemed to notice.
We all started kicking our feet up and down, softly at first, then harder and harder. Maybe too hard. Or maybe that was just me.