by Abby Cooper
“Yeah, fine.”
I could practically see Mom’s heart tumbling out of her chest. If we couldn’t do it, maybe Mom’s heart could win the triathlon. That thing was speedy.
My heart was beating a little fast, too, and my eyes couldn’t stop staring at Pratik. There was something else different about him. It was the way he looked at us, like we could be any of the moms and daughters at the gym. Like we were strangers who’d just met and were having some dumb little gym conversation. But we weren’t! We were us! How could you have so many fun times with someone and then just act like everything was whatever, like none of it had even happened?
And why were we still so bummed over someone who was clearly not bummed at all over us?
A bubble formed over Pratik’s head, and I grabbed on to Mom’s arm almost automatically, bracing myself. Whatever it was going to say, I had a feeling it was going to be really important.
I wonder if there’s anything good on TV later.
TV?
Seriously?
I knew it, though. TV didn’t seem super important, but that’s what made it important. He was thinking about TV. Not about us. Not about how we might be feeling. Not about how he was feeling. Just … TV. And that was it.
Mom gave me a look like “What’s up with the death grip?” and I gave her one back like “We need to talk, big-time,” and she nodded.
Holy. Chocolate-iest. Pancakes. In. The. Universe.
Mom understood what my face was telling her.
That Colossus of Rhodes thing that crumbled all those years ago? It never got rebuilt, but there’s a plan to do it soon. Maybe everything can get rebuilt if you give people enough time to figure out the right way to do it.
“Okay. I gotta run,” Mom told Pratik. She chuckled awkwardly. “I gotta run,” she repeated, eyeing the track. “Like I actually gotta run.”
Pratik laughed. “All right,” he said. “Good to see you. You too, Sophie.”
He walked away in the direction of the stairs. Mom turned her attention back to the track, but I watched him walk away and wondered where he was going. Swimming? Spinning? Maybe Pratik didn’t know where he was going either, I realized. But he kept moving, just like we did, even though we were tired. Maybe sometimes that’s all you can do.
29
THE STUFF YOU KNOW
“Okay, what’d you see in the bubble? Spill it.”
I fiddled with the string on my pajama bottoms. We were home now, safely on the couch, icing all our hurting parts and stretching out our sleepy, sleepy legs, which were probably going to be super sore tomorrow. I smiled to myself, thinking about it. It was cool that my legs were going to hurt because I had actually used them for something besides falling over. I had used them for actual exercise, for running, of all things! I couldn’t wait to get to school tomorrow so I could tell my gym teacher.
I took a deep breath. Mom deserved to know this stuff. I didn’t know if it would make her happy or sad or excited or what, but it was too much to keep in my brain, and she was asking, and there wasn’t anyone else I could tell who would truly get it like she would. But there was something I had to ask first.
“Do you only want to know because it’s about Pratik?”
Mom frowned. “I want to know because you’re my daughter and I care about you.”
“Then why haven’t you really asked about any other bubbles?”
She took a deep breath. “I think I owe you an apology. I really haven’t been there for you lately. It’s not just Pratik … it’s a lot of things. But none of it’s an excuse.”
“You’re allowed to be sad,” I told her. “You should be mad at me, too. Super mad. Since I’m the reason you guys broke up.”
“What?”
“Because I was like, oh, I’m gonna be this cool spy person, and then I went and squealed about his new job and then you got in a fight and he dumped you, remember?”
Mom’s eyes got enormous. “Sophie, no. No!”
I raised my eyebrows. No? As in … no?
“Yeah, we argued that day, but things were tough before that. You never noticed how we had started to hardly speak to each other when we were together?”
I thought about it. That day, Pratik had been on the couch, doing a crossword puzzle. Mom had been in the kitchen making pancakes. It looked normal, but they were in different rooms, doing different things, not saying much … on purpose?
“He just stopped telling me things over time. I had no idea he got a new job, or even that he wanted one. I want to be with someone who tells me things—even the things that are hard to say.”
“Then why did you go out for so long? And why did he dump you?”
Mom shrugged. “I loved the guy. Sometimes you know everything in the world, but if the way you feel doesn’t match up, the stuff you know ends up not mattering at all.” She paused. “He really did us a favor, Soph, even though it’s been hard to adjust.”
I shuddered. It sounded like love did super weird things to people. Being in like was more than enough for me, especially being in like with someone who was going out with somebody else.
I fiddled with my pajama strings some more. “Do you still want to know what his bubble said?” I asked.
Mom played with a few pieces of my hair. “You know, I don’t think I do,” she said. “Unless you want to tell me.”
“I don’t think it really matters,” I said. “Do you?”
“I think the person whose thoughts I want to know the most is the person sitting next to me. You can tell me anything, Soph, always. The good, the bad…”
“The bubbly?” I interrupted, and she laughed. We both did.
Mom pulled the blanket up so we each had just enough. Her words echoed in my mind. The stuff you know ends up not mattering at all. I knew what I knew about Kaya and Rafael, but I knew what I felt, too.
And that’s when I knew what I had to do.
30
AN UPDATE
In school the next day, Mr. Alvarado asked for an update on our projects.
“Mine’s going really well.” Obviously Viv was the first to chime in. Kaya shot her a big smile.
Viv wasn’t kidding. In case I needed her to rub it in any more, practically every time I’d looked at her all morning there had been something project-related floating above her head in a bubble.
I have them right where I want them.
Now I just have to work on one more thing.
This is the greatest project ever.
I am awesome!
I still didn’t know what I was going to do about her, or if I even could do something about her. But I could do something about Kaya and Rafael.
I scurried after Kaya in the hall and grabbed her by the arm. I had to talk to her before we met up with Rafael or the whole thing would be wrecked. “I saw a major bubble. Like a crazy one. And a serious one. A crazy, serious, major bubble.” Okay, I had to chill. I was going to be out of breath by the time I got to my actual news.
“Oh yeah?” Kaya’s eyes grew wide and I felt a teeny tiny twisty twinge of guilt. I didn’t do bad things like this, especially not to one of my best friends. But she had started it when she decided to go out with Rafael and they told Viv instead of me.
“Yeah. At the end of the day yesterday. Above Rafael’s head…”
As usual, I was awful at lying, but Kaya, ever the trusting one, nodded like she couldn’t wait to hear what I would say next.
There was a major garlic-knotty feeling in my stomach, but I kept going.
“It said that he likes Viv.”
Kaya’s face scrunched up really tight, like she was getting ready to cry. She reached for her head but flung her hands down at the last second. Like a little voice in her brain was like, No, Kaya. Control yourself. Like the little voice in my brain should have done but didn’t, because it was too busy being like, Cause problems!
It was a really good thing Kaya couldn’t see bubbles above my head. I bet the letters would all have been
bold and capitalized. I’M LYING.
But Kaya didn’t ask any questions, and I felt bad and good at the same time because I wanted to do this but I didn’t totally want to do this, and maybe this was actually a really awful thing to do that I should have never, ever done.
I was in a tug-of-war with myself, all of a sudden, the part that wanted to come clean and the other part that wanted to see how this would go. Both of them were pulling, pulling, pulling, and if there had been a real rope involved, it would have snapped in two, leaving little ropy thread thingies all over the place.
Kaya tucked her head down and stared at the floor. She didn’t say a thing. It was as quiet as the Cold War. (Which was called that because people fought with words instead of with weapons.)
“Are you okay?” I asked. “I mean, there’s not any major reason this would bother you, is there?”
She didn’t make eye contact with me but kept shuffling along by my side.
“Kaya? Answer please?”
There was a ton of hallway noise surrounding us, but I couldn’t hear it. The whole world seemed silent to me just because Kaya was.
We rounded a corner and got to our spot. Finally, Kaya looked me right in the eye and opened her mouth …
Just as Rafael flew down the stairs, practically trampled an entire clump of people, and yelled at the top of his lungs, “We can’t do the triathlon!”
“What?” I said.
“What?” Kaya repeated.
“What?” said Viv, who’d just run up.
“My cousin Harmony forwarded me her confirmation e-mail from the race people and asked if I was still doing it or if I’d chickened out. But, guys, I didn’t get a confirmation e-mail. Did you?”
We all shook our heads, and my stomach started doing flip-flops. Why did this kinda sound like something that might be my fault? Was there something I was supposed to do? Something about confirmations or registrations or …
Holy pancakes. Registrations.
“I called ZOOM to check and they said they didn’t have any of our registration forms, and they won’t accept any late ones,” Rafael said. “We can’t sign up the day of the race, either.” My stomach flipped harder and faster. I could picture the registration forms. They were buried at the bottom of my backpack with old snacks and papers and who knew what else.
I heard my own voice in my head, agreeing to turn in the forms. I remembered them all nodding and smiling and saying thanks. I remembered Viv dropping hers in my hand. I remembered putting it in my backpack with the others and then completely forgetting and not doing anything with any of them, even when I was at ZOOM on the day of the deadline with Mom.
We stood there silently. It was my fault. It was totally my fault. One of my biggest fears had come true. I’d messed up the triathlon, just like I’d thought I would.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I forgot to turn in the forms.”
No one said anything. Rafael and Kaya looked at each other, and Viv glared at me. It wasn’t even her project, but she looked the angriest out of everyone.
“You guys are going to have to figure out another risk,” she said. “Otherwise you’ll probably fail social studies.”
“Yeah, for real.” Rafael crossed his arms and looked at the ground.
“Mmm-hmm.” Kaya twirled a chunk of hair around her finger.
I didn’t want to admit it, but Viv Carlson was right. This was an assignment. A good grade would be cool, but it was even more important not to let down Mr. Alvarado. He was one of everybody’s favorite teachers, and he’d be so disappointed if we didn’t do the race. I thought of how excited he was, of how he had pulled Kaya, Viv, and me aside yesterday after class and told us how people in all his classes were making plans to come watch.
Well, all they’d be watching was a bunch of depressed people sitting on the sidelines. Lucky them. Plus, there was Mom. I needed to win to give her a chance to get on TV. And she’d actually been really excited to do the race together. Would she still do it if she knew she’d be totally on her own?
I couldn’t take the chance.
I looked at Kaya and Rafael. Their eyes finally met mine, and I could tell they were trying not to come out and be all OMG-we-hate-you-Sophie, but I had definitely caused a big problem—and everybody knew it.
Only instead of feeling bad about it forever the way I had about Mom’s breakup (which wasn’t even my fault), I was going to fix it.
Starting in 1848, a ton of people went to California because they heard there was gold there and they wanted it. Some of the people gave up right away. Others looked for a while and then gave up. But some stayed and kept looking until they found it.
Maybe I could be one of those people.
The thing with gold was that it usually didn’t just pop up with a giant sign that said HEY, I’M GOLD. You had to look under stuff. Around stuff. Sort through a bunch of rocks that kinda looked like gold but weren’t.
“I have an idea,” I told everyone.
Then I turned away and raced toward the school library, stumbling over my feet the entire way. There had to be gold hiding in this situation somewhere, and I needed to be the one to find it.
If I did, it would be the coolest thing in history.
31
THE NEW PROJECT
I couldn’t stay in the library for too long since I had other classes to go to, but I was able to go back at lunch and collect a ton of info. With our librarian’s help, I researched some triathlon-y stuff online and looked through a bunch of helpful books, and before long, I had an actual semi-realistic idea for a new project.
Once I had figured out some details after school, my semi-realistic idea moved into could-totally-happen territory. And after I’d made some phone calls and sent some texts, it was officially going to be a thing.
At least, it was going to be a thing until the responses started trickling in.
Sry, I want 2 do something else. Thinking of risky things 2 do 2 make $$$ 4 gloves. GLOVES RULE
I rolled my eyes. Okay, Rafael.
Cool idea but gonna help Raf w/his thing
My face felt warm. I knew neither Rafael nor Kaya were super happy with me, but I was trying to help! I’d found the gold, but now nobody wanted it.
At least BFF Britta agreed that my idea was awesome. She even told Mom that she should help out, but Mom just sighed and was all, “We’ll see,” and went back to whatever magazine she was reading.
And when I asked, “You’re still doing ZOOM’s adult triathlon, right? Even though I can’t do the kid one?” Mom didn’t answer at all.
I sat on my bed and buried my head in my hands. So no one was interested in my idea. Fine. But the fact was, I had to do a risk project or probably fail sixth grade. And whatever Rafael and Kaya were planning now, it didn’t seem like I was exactly invited.
So. Even if I did it all by myself, I was going to do it.
I, Sophie Elizabeth Mulvaney, was going to do a triathlon.
32
TRI TIME
“Are you totally sure you don’t want to do it? You would be so awesome. Come on. Please?”
But Mom shook her head and slipped her fuzzy black jacket on over her pink tank. “I’m just going to watch you, and that’s it.”
The real triathlons had come and gone, and Mom had stayed on the couch with her magazines. The winners went on TV, and Mom didn’t watch. Even though Mom was talking to me more now, she was still sad. So this was more than my risk project; this was my last real chance to turn her back into Mom Who Does More Than Stare at Stuff.
“Why aren’t you asking if I want to try it?” BFF Britta smirked and zipped up her purple fleece, and we all giggled. Her idea of a triathlon was watching three movies in a row.
“You can,” I said. “Really. Everyone who tries gets a prize.” That was the official slogan of my new and improved triathlon. I had stayed up late last night making fancy certificates with markers and paint and a ton of glitter glue. The droopy eyelids and weird
ly sore cheeks were totally worth it, because they looked amazing. I was probably going to be the only one there besides Mom, Britta, and Mr. Alvarado, but I wanted to be ready for anything.
“Who are you, Dr. Seuss?” Now Britta was giggling harder. “Run the race, yes you can! Go the miles, get a tan!”
“Not such great tanning weather today.” Mom peeked out the window. Of course the day had to go and be all dreary and gloomy—the sky was covered with clouds. Not so great for doing a triathlon, even a mini one. Or for going outside at all. At least the temperature wasn’t terrible. We all just needed light jackets, nothing more, but I shivered as I thought about the swimming. That was going to be soooo cold. I could have been all cozy in Dr. Llama’s office, but I was skipping therapy to do something I knew was going to be hard. Why was I torturing myself like this?
I already knew the answer to that, though. I was doing this for Kaya and Rafael. If they weren’t going to swim and bike, I’d do it in their honor. I was doing it for Mom. Even for Viv Carlson. For all the people with bubbles, especially people with sad ones. And maybe I was doing it a little for me, too.
I needed to do it. Even if every bone in my body was scared, achy, and about to totally freeze.
“Ready?” Britta squeezed my shoulders. “It’s cool that you’re doing this, Mini Mulvaney.”
“You’re an Adventurous Girl,” Mom said. I knew it was a compliment—I was an Adventurous Girl again, now—but something about it made me sad. Yeah, she was saying I was adventurous, but it also sort of seemed like she was saying she wasn’t.
Which was the truth. But still.
Now was no time for sadness, though.
I had a race to get to.
* * *
Bridgemont Beach was practically deserted. An old couple walked a dog along the path, but they were the only people I could see for miles. I gulped. Where was everybody? I snuck a glance at my phone—7:02. Kaya and Rafael probably wouldn’t show up, but what was Mr. Alvarado’s excuse? He was a teacher; he was used to getting up early. He probably even did it on Saturdays when he didn’t have to.