“Yeah.” My gut told me I wasn’t going to like what was coming next.
“We were on my bed watching a movie,” said Brynn slowly. “Then we started kissing.” She looked at me like she wanted to gauge my reaction.
I tried to remain expressionless. Even though part of me didn’t want to hear what she had to say, another part of me needed to know everything. “We kissed for a long time,” said Brynn. “Then one thing led to another.” She hesitated. “We took the next step.”
I watched as she put her hand on her chest. She looked like she was about to say the Pledge of Allegiance. I wanted to believe that’s what she and Billy did together, but I knew it wasn’t what she meant.
I tried to swallow but couldn’t. All I could think about was how big Brynn’s boobs had gotten in the last year and how the three of us had been best friends since third grade and now Brynn and Billy were close in this new way I couldn’t be part of.
“So?” said Brynn when she finished talking.
I wasn’t sure what my response should be. Congrats? “That’s cool,” I said.
Brynn grinned like that was the response she was hoping for. “Thanks for being happy for me.” Then she looped her arm through mine as we walked like we were still in kindergarten. “It’s just really cool how close Billy and I are. It makes me so happy.”
“Yeah,” I said. I knew she wanted me to share in her happiness, but I was having a hard time doing it. Especially since all I could think about was my own unhappiness and the slump I’ve been in since Halloween.
My parents are stressed and fighting and never home. All I ever do is babysit. My ex-boyfriend was at a party making out with another girl. Brynn and Billy are doing things together I don’t like thinking about. And even though things seem OK for the moment, I know Sophie and Brynn don’t really like each other.
I really don’t know what I expected when I started high school.
Not this.
It is often when night looks darkest, that one senses the gathering momentum for change.
—Hillary Clinton
Monday, November 10, 6:45 p.m.
Rainy day
It poured all day, which most kids at Faraway High complained about. Some of the walkways between the buildings aren’t covered so it’s impossible to avoid getting wet between classes. But I didn’t care. The rain was a welcome shield between the rest of the world and me. I’m just not in the mood for other people.
When I got home from dance practice, June was in the kitchen putting miniature apple juice boxes and water bottles in the refrigerator. “April, look!” she said. “Dad went to Costco and bought these for me to take in my lunch. Now no one will make fun of me anymore.”
“That’s great!” I said.
June let out a big sigh of relief. “I feel so much better!”
I wish all my problems could be solved by a trip to Costco.
Tuesday, November 11, 7:12 p.m.
In the bathtub
Trying to relax
At dance practice, Ms. Baumann made her the-show-is-in-two-weeks-so-get-ready-to-work-harder-than-you-ever-have speech. I remember it from last year. Then, I thought she was just trying to scare us. Now, I know she means every word of it. The dance show is such a big deal in Faraway. It’s always good and so many people go to see it.
“I’m so focused,” said Emily as we walked home from practice. “This dance show is my top priority. It’s even more important to me than school right now. I just want the whole show to be amazing.”
I get why she would say that. Emily is dancing the freshman solo, which is a huge honor. I know how important it is to her that her dance is the best it can be. I know I need to focus too, but that won’t be easy.
Today as we practiced the intro group dance, my brain was running off in so many directions. Every time I looked at Brynn, I thought about what she told me about Billy and her. I was thinking about Sophie, who told me at lunch that as ninth-grade reps, she and Billy are co-chairs of the SGA Thanksgiving food drive. That made me think even more about Brynn and how she will react when she finds out. I was thinking about everything going on at home. And I was trying not to think about Matt, who I don’t like thinking about.
As I walked with Emily, my brain drifted as she talked about the show. “Do you get what I’m saying about the importance of focus?” Emily asked interrupting my thoughts.
“I do,” I said. “I’m focused.”
Just on all the wrong things.
Thursday, November 13, 6:56 p.m.
Today at dance practice, Brynn was acting so weird. During break, I went up to her and asked her if she was OK. “Fine,” she said with the fake smile she only makes when she’s not fine. Then she turned away from me and started talking to Kate and Vanessa like I’d interrupted their conversation. She wouldn’t even look at me during the rest of practice.
When we were done I went up to her again. “Do you want to do our algebra homework together?” I asked. Mr. Baumgartner had given us a huge packet of problems, and I thought it would be a lot easier for both of us if we worked on them together.
Brynn looked at me like I’d asked her to slit her wrists. “Did you know Sophie and Billy are co-chairing the food drive?”
“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t like where this was going.
Brynn shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“The ninth-grade SGA reps are always head of the food drive, so of course they’re doing it together.”
Brynn ignored the logic of what I’d said. “I know Sophie is your sort-of cousin, but it bothers me that she keeps doing things with my boyfriend. You know as well as I do that she’s never had a boyfriend. I just don’t believe her when she says she doesn’t want one. I think she wants mine.”
I took a deep breath. “Don’t you think you’re being a little irrational?”
“How can you say that about me?” asked Brynn.
I had to protect Sophie. “Sophie doesn’t like Billy in that way.” I paused. “And I don’t like when you say bad things about her.” The words sat between us like an electric fence. “You know, I can be friends with both of you.”
Brynn made an hmmm sound. “Yeah, well friends can discuss anything, which clearly doesn’t apply to us.”
Then she turned and walked out of the gym. Which is a good thing, because I don’t want to think about what I would have said if she’d stayed.
10:16 p.m.
Should I call Brynn?
I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened with Brynn this afternoon and trying to decide if I should call. When she walked out of the gym, I think she expected me to go after her and tell her I was sorry for not telling her about the food drive, or that even though Sophie is my “sort-of” cousin, what she said about her is valid and that she’ll always be my best friend.
I thought about it. But Brynn hasn’t exactly been a good best friend lately. And in comparison to Sophie, she hasn’t been a good friend at all. Should I call her?
I’m going with no.
10:32 p.m.
Off the phone
Billy called me. He just called to say hi and see what was going on, but it seemed kind of ironic that he called me when he did. “You’re kind of quiet,” he said after I’d answered a whole string of questions with yes or no. “What’s up?”
He’d asked, so I decided to tell him. “Sometimes Brynn can be a lot to handle,” he said when I was done. His response made me feel bold. There was something I’d wanted to ask him for a long time. If ever there was a time, this was it. But still, I knew I probably shouldn’t.
“What is it?” asked Billy. He laughed and so did I. We both knew I wanted to ask him something. “I guess I’m just wondering …” My voice trailed off as I lost my nerve.
“What?” asked Billy.
I took a breath. “I guess I’m just wondering what it is that you like about Brynn. I mean, as a girlfriend.”
Billy always thinks before he responds, but it didn�
��t take him long to answer my question. “Well, for one thing, she’s loyal,” he said. I knew what he meant, but hadn’t said. He’d only had one other girlfriend. Me. And that was the one thing I hadn’t been.
Ouch.
Friday, November 14, 10:45 p.m.
In my room
This is what I overheard tonight from my parents’ room:
Mom: I need her to come in and help wait on customers tomorrow while I sew. The presentation is in a week and a half, and I’m not ready.
Dad: April has dance practice in the morning, and I thought she was going to babysit May and June in the afternoon.
Mom: Why don’t they go with you to the diner?
Dad: I can’t watch them while I work.
Mom: They’re big girls. They can hang out in your office or help if you need them to.
Dad: It works better if April stays home with her sisters.
Mom: I need her help at the store.
Dad: I think it works best for everyone if she stays home.
Usually, listening to my parents argue is bad, but listening to them debate what I should do was making me furious. Plus, I thought Dad was being unfair. He could take May and June. They’re more than old enough to spend an afternoon at the diner.
I got out of bed and marched into their room. “You know I can hear every word you’re saying.” I looked at both of them like I was disgusted by their behavior.
“I’m in high school now. I’m old enough to speak for myself.” I turned my attention to Mom. “I’ll be there tomorrow.” Then I went back to my room.
I need some sleep.
Apparently, I have customers to wait on.
Saturday, November 15, 1:02 p.m.
Grumpy
Dance sucked. Practice was hard. Plus, Brynn was being so annoying. Every time I said something, she had this look on her face like it was painful for her to listen. I knew she thought I owed her an apology, but I wasn’t giving her one. I’ve always been the one to give in to her, but she’s been unfair about Sophie ever since she moved here. I had nothing to apologize for.
Then, when I came home, May and June were waiting for me. “Dad said you have to make lunch for us,” said May. “Then he’s going to pick us all up and drop you off at the store and we’re going with him to the diner.”
It pissed me off. The diner serves food, so I don’t see why Dad couldn’t make lunch for his daughters. But I clearly didn’t get to offer an opinion on this matter.
I took out a loaf of bread and a package of ham. I lined three slices of bread up on the counter and slapped two pieces of ham on top of each one. I topped off the ham with another slice of bread. “Here,” I said sliding the sandwiches across the counter to May and June.
June looked at hers. “I want turkey.”
“Just eat it,” I snapped.
May and June recoiled. “Why are you so grumpy?” asked May.
I took a bite of my own sandwich and ignored her question. She wouldn’t understand the answer anyway.
10:45 p.m.
Less grumpy
I’m glad I went to help Mom at her store. It was a temporary respite (vocab word, well used) from my chronic bad mood. Not that waiting on ladies while they shopped for clothes was particularly inspiring, but what happened afterward was. When the store closed, I went next door to the deli.
“Want some therapy?” Leo asked when I walked in.
“Huh?” I couldn’t believe it was that evident that I was having a bad day.
Leo smiled. “That’s deli code for chicken soup.” He motioned for me to sit down at a table. He went into the kitchen, and when he returned, he brought back a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup that he set in front of me.
I took a spoonful. “That’s hot!” I said as I downed a glass of water.
Leo laughed. “Soup usually is.” Then he got a serious look on his face. “What’s up April? You look troubled.”
It all spilled out. Everything. I told Leo about my parents and how they’re always arguing and stressed and expect me to do so much. I told him about the drama with Brynn and that she doesn’t like Sophie because she thinks Sophie is trying to steal Billy, and that she’s mad at me because she thinks I’m taking Sophie’s side over hers. And I told him what happened on Halloween. I told him about seeing Matt and that, even though I don’t like him anymore, it didn’t feel good seeing him with another girl. I even told him what Matt said to me on the street and how I didn’t confront him when I had the chance.
Leo listened patiently until I was done. “This is like a very complex chem lab,” he said. “But the good news is that I have a solution.”
“What does chem have to do with my problems?”
“That was a science joke. Chem lab. Problem. Solution. Get it?” Leo didn’t wait for me to laugh. “First, parents. They can be a handful,” said Leo.
He told me about his own family and that he’s been listening to his parents argue since he was little. “Sometimes I think the only thing they have in common is me. The way I look at it is that parents are people too. Which means they go through ups and downs. I think the best you can do is look at what really motivates them and how they feel about you.”
It was reassuring to hear that. Even though things have been difficult lately, I know what my parents love most is their family and that they’d do anything for my sisters and me.
“When it comes to your crazy friends, I’m afraid I can’t be of much help,” said Leo.
I frowned. “My friends aren’t crazy.”
“In my experience, most teens are,” said Leo. “That’s why I’m homeschooled.”
“I thought you said you had a solution.”
Leo gave me a sheepish smile. “I do. The solution is simple.” Then he said something I totally hadn’t expected.
“Come with me to yoga.”
Waking up to who you are requires letting go of who you imagine yourself to be.
—Alan Watts
Saturday, November 22, 9:45 p.m.
Post-yoga
I went to yoga with Leo tonight, and in a weirdly Zen way, I liked it.
Leo doesn’t live too far from me, so he walked to my house and we walked to the yoga studio together. It was the first time I’d told Mom and Dad about him. I think normally they’d have a problem with me hanging out with a guy who’s sixteen, but they’ve been so distracted lately with their own problems, that when I told them I was going with Leo to yoga, they didn’t even question it.
When we got to the yoga studio, Leo introduced me to the teacher, Natasha, who gave me a mat and told me to go at my own pace. Leo set his mat up next to mine. “Don’t do what I do,” he said with a wink.
But as the class started, I couldn’t believe how good he was. He moved from posture to posture in a strong yet graceful way. I was pretty self-conscious at first. But as Natasha led the class through Sun Salutation, she told us to focus on our breathing and to allow our lungs to fill with air. As I concentrated on my breathing, I stopped worrying about what other people were doing and started to relax.
As Natasha went through the rest of the poses, I followed her lead and tried my best to do what she was showing us. My favorite pose was called camel pose. It’s like doing a backbend while you’re on your knees and it was a great stretch.
We finished the class with something called corpse pose or Savasana. You lie flat on your back with your arms and legs spread out and your eyes closed, and you just breathe as a way of meditating. It was incredibly relaxing. I almost fell asleep while we were doing it.
I probably would have, but Natasha was going from person to person rubbing lavender oil on everyone’s temples. When she got to me, I took a deep breath as she massaged the sides of my head, and my nostrils filled with the scent of lavender and burning incense.
Before we left the class, we all sat on our knees and held our hands in prayer position.
“Each day is a new opportunity. The unexpected can happen. Embrace it,” said N
atasha. “Move forward without expectation and with gratitude for what is, not worrying about what will be.” Her voice had a soothing quality.
“Namaste,” she said. Then the whole class said “Namaste.” People bowed and then started picking up their mats.
“What’d you think of yoga?” asked Leo as we walked home.
“You’re amazing at it.”
Leo smiled. “It just takes practice. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”
“I’d like that,” I said.
Leo took in my expression. “You look puzzled.”
It’s so cool how Leo is able to get what I’m thinking without me saying anything. “There’s something I’m not sure I get,” I said.
Leo raised an eyebrow.
I’d been mulling over what Natasha said at the end of the class. “What do you think Natasha meant when she talked about moving forward without expectation?”
Leo was uncharacteristically slow to answer. I’m not sure if he was relaxed from the class or formulating his response. “When I started high school, I had an expectation of what it would be like. Middle school was hard for me. I didn’t fit in, and I was sure it would change when I got to high school. I thought the kids would think it was cool that I was so smart.” Leo paused. “But they thought it was weird. They called me Lab Rat. Burner Boy. Broke my glasses. Kid stuff, but I didn’t like it. It’s why I wanted to be homeschooled.”
So this was the part of his story he hadn’t felt comfortable sharing with me when we first talked about why he is homeschooled. I tried to imagine what it would be like to feel so different from the other kids. I’m sure it was hard.
Leo kept talking. “Now I’m going to college, and I’m trying to have no expectations of what it will be like. I don’t want to be disappointed.”
“Do you think having expectations always leads to disappointment?” I asked.
“No,” said Leo. “Sometimes things happen that are better than what you expected. But if you expect things to go a certain way or that people will act how you want them to, you’ll just be disappointed if they don’t.”
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