This Is All Your Fault, Cassie Parker

by Terra Elan McVoy

  I let go of my notebook and let it slip forgotten to the floor.

  “What’s all that?” Leelu asks, jouncing on her toes.

  “Just a few things to congratulate you two on all your school successes. We’ll wait for your father. Is he ready yet?”

  “Hello there,” Dad says, hurrying to give Jennifer a kiss on the cheek. “What do we have here?” He indicates the packages like he’s surprised, but I can tell by the way they’re looking at each other that this is the entire reason we had to be ready by five thirty.

  “Just a couple of things for the girls.”

  Jennifer moves around to the couch to sit down, pressing her knees together. She’s a lawyer, like Dad, though she practices contract law, not the expensive divorce cases my dad handles all the time. Still, to me she dresses more like she hopes someone will cast her on some reality show. She keeps wanting to take Leelu and me to get the same kind of expensive weave she likes, but Dad says Leelu’s too young, and I just say I won’t until Leelu can. Jennifer indulges in big jewelry, too (chunky necklaces, gemstone earrings round as quarters), so it’s no surprise that the first thing she has Leelu and me open are semi-matching sparkling bracelets. Leelu’s beads and charms are in mostly icicle blue, mine in green.

  “There’s room to add more charms, of course.” Jennifer smiles wide. “For all your special new memories. Hopefully some we make together.”

  I don’t watch her and Dad trade happy glances, or admit that it’s nice of her to have noticed I’ve been wearing more green lately. Cassie would be jealous of something like this too, which makes me feel proud and lonely at the same time.

  I pretend to be so interested in examining each charm that I forget to say anything.

  Or notice how Leelu gives Jennifer an extra-long thank-you hug, asks for her help putting the bracelet on, and then rubs noses with her in the way I thought only we did.

  “Well, we’d better get a move on,” Dad says, smoothing his pants.

  “But I want the rest.” Leelu stamps her foot.

  “You’re really too old for that kind of act.”

  “After dinner, princess,” Jennifer adds over Dad’s gentle scolding. Like she suddenly knows how to soothe Leelu’s temper better than the two of us.

  But Leelu looks at Jennifer like she’s Tiana come to life, and prances beside her to the car ahead of me and Dad. On the way it’s clear she’s forgotten all about our list of summer to-dos, and instead listens intently to Dad’s answers when Jennifer asks him about his own last-day-of-school memories. Which makes him ask her to tell us some of hers, too. I like hearing Dad’s stories myself, but the three of them are so far down nostalgia lane, Dad hardly even asks us about our own days.

  At least at the restaurant he’s made sure to get a table by the window, and right away orders crab cakes plus two plates of their famous cheese bread—Leelu’s and my favorites. Jennifer doesn’t like sourdough, so she doesn’t have any, but I don’t feel sorry.

  Still, I’m trying not to sulk. I’m trying to enjoy my favorite restaurant with Dad and Leelu even if Jennifer has to be here.

  But then Dad reaches for her hand. “We have some good news,” he says.

  “I did some juggling around,” Jennifer picks up, “and thanks to my boss and a couple of meetings that can become conference calls . . .” She looks at Dad.

  “Jennifer will be joining us in Disneyland,” he says for her.

  Leelu jumps out of her seat and claps. “Really!?”

  “But that’s our trip with Cassie,” I blurt, not caring at the moment that of course Cassie isn’t coming.

  Dad frowns a little. “My understanding is that Cassie can’t join us, Fiona.”

  Dad and I haven’t talked about Cassie at all, so I’m not sure how he knows this.

  He sees my confusion. “I had to email Serena to finalize some things about the hotel, and when I did she told me that unfortunately Cassie had something come up for that week. Since you and Cassie are so close, I believed you knew.”

  “Well, what came up?” I try to sound prideful instead of embarrassed. It hadn’t occurred to me Dad would talk to Serena about Cassie and Disneyland, but of course he’d have to.

  “She didn’t say.” Dad looks sorry. “It’s my mistake for not mentioning it, but I really didn’t think it was necessary. You can see, I hope, that it’s all working out just fine. Now instead of having to make cancellations, Jennifer is taking Cassie’s place. Yes?”

  “Does that mean we’ll have the same room?” Leelu asks. “Do we get to share a bed?” Her eager smile is aimed at Jennifer, not me.

  Jennifer looks like Leelu just turned a pumpkin into a coach. “Well, we’ll discuss it. I can be a cover hog.”

  “You girls will be having a high time,” Dad laughs. “Poor Papa will have to room all by himself.”

  But I know that’s not how it will go at all. Instead it will be Dad, Jennifer, and Leelu all teamed up together, and me all on my own. I already had to spend the last couple of weeks watching my best friend slip away from me into enemy camp. I’m not going to let the same thing happen with my sister.

  To keep from looking at any of them, I focus on the menu, as though I’m not going to order the same thing I always do when we come here. Still, I’m not sure after this news I’ll be able to eat even one bite of my lobster ravioli.

  “Daddy, I can go on Space Mountain this time, right?” Leelu asks.

  “I think you’re big enough now to go on any ride you want,” Dad tells her.

  “Except not Winnie the Pooh. That’s for babies.”

  “Well, I might want to check it out.” Jennifer winks.

  Leelu laughs in delight at Jennifer’s joke, and starts singing the honey pot song.

  “We’ll do it if Fiona wants to.” Dad’s trying to pull me into the conversation.

  “But definitely the Haunted Mansion!” The table vibrates with Leelu’s uncontrollable bouncing.

  “Now that one is my favorite,” Jennifer says.

  “Yes!” Leelu squeals. “We can go in the same car!”

  Which is the last straw. The Haunted Mansion is Cassie’s and my favorite, ever since our families went together two years ago. I’ve been waiting for Leelu to finally be tall enough, and there’s no way I’m going to let Jennifer horn in on that.

  In fact, I decide right then and there, I’m not going at all.

  Chapter Nine

  The idea of not going to Disneyland burns in my mind through the rest of dinner and dessert, but it becomes a flaming bonfire when we do more present opening at home. The rest of the gifts are all things Jennifer got for the Disneyland trip: matching sleep masks, clip-on rhinestoned pouches to keep our money in, and the utter worst—T-shirts. But not just any T-shirts, and not just for me and Leelu.

  “IloveitIloveitIloveit!” Leelu gushes, holding hers up for me to see. It’s the same as mine, with silver writing on the front that says I’m a Princess. On the back are little pictures of Belle, Rapunzel, and all the rest. They’re surrounding a special portrait in the middle that’s framed just like the others, where somehow there’s screened in a picture of Leelu’s face. My yearbook picture is in the center of mine.

  “Annnnddd . . .” Jennifer reaches into her giant Coach bag. Swirls of pink and silver swim in front of my eyes as she pulls out an identical shirt, with her photo on the back.

  “Triplets!” Leelu cheers, pulling hers on straight over her dress.

  “Very nice.” Dad beams. “Fiona, let’s see yours.”

  “I think I ate too much at dinner,” I mumble.

  Dad’s eyebrows come together. “Are you all right?”

  “I just think I need to lie down.”

  I stand, leaving my gifts on the coffee table. I must look as terrible as I feel, because Dad doesn’t even insist I say thank you when I head to my room.

  As soon as I’m safe behind my bedroom door, I FaceTime Mom. I’m angry and I’m desperate, and I need immediate, effective a
ction.

  “Hello, Fiona,” she answers, pushing herself up on her big European pillows so I can see her better. Even though it’s Friday night and she’s in her pajamas, she has her lap desk spread with a bunch of papers across the bed. She’s still working.

  “Mom, I can’t go to Disneyland.” My voice is already starting to shake.

  “Oh, Fee. What’s all this now?”

  “I just don’t want to go,” I say, as fierce as I can. “Leelu’s the one who’s excited.”

  “Is this because of Jennifer?”

  A prickle of panic spreads over my skull. Mom’s never been anything but polite when it comes to Jennifer, but I don’t think she likes her, either. But she and Dad have explained to us a hundred times that we don’t always get what we want out of things, and from the way Mom’s asking me now I can tell this could turn into one of those situations where I get lectured instead of listened to. I need to use every tactic I can to get out of it.

  “It isn’t about anything. Except that I changed my mind and I don’t. Want. To. Go. Cassie can’t go either and it won’t be any fun without her. You never asked before if—”

  “But Fiona, your father’s already made the plans. Everything’s reserved. It would be quite an inconvenience for him to undo.”

  “It’s not like we’re flying down,” I remind her. Which is another reason I can’t stand this idea. Watching Leelu and Jennifer pair up over everything at the park will be bad enough, but there’s no number of books I could take to help me stomach being stuck in the car with Leelu singing all her favorites alongside someone else. “Dad would only have to cancel my admission, and you know he’ll be able to do that, even if it’s not allowed.”

  Mom makes a disappointed face, but she knows I’m right. My father can talk anyone into anything. Except me.

  “Please, Mom,” I beg. “I can stay with Maritza. I’ll do nothing but help around the house. Or the yard, I swear. You won’t have to hire Julio.”

  “You know Maritza’s going to visit her family. She timed it for when you and your sister were away.”

  Desperation pushes at the rims of my eyes in what feel like tears. I hadn’t thought about that. “I can come to work with you.”

  “Fiona, what’s gotten into you? You were so excited about this. I understand things with—”

  “Leelu will feel so much more grown-up if she gets to go with them by herself,” I interrupt. I can’t let Mom get me off topic, because then she’ll never let me stay home. If I’m going to get out of Disneyland, I have to do it now.

  “What if I find something else?” I offer. “Like a camp or something?”

  “What kind of camp would possibly still have openings?” Mom sighs, but by the way she’s not looking at the camera anymore, I can tell she’s already searching. “There aren’t a lot of options.” Her muttering isn’t really to me. “Circus camp?”

  I make a face.

  “Wilderness adventure—except, no, you’re too old. Same with Science Tykes, and”—she sighs again—“Fiona, this is very immature of you. Your father is going to be crushed. Did you think of that?”

  But I’m online and searching too, on the school website that lists all the programs we heard about at a boring assembly near the end of the year.

  “Creative Writing Camp for Young People,” I read aloud, feeling a rush of relief. I send Mom the link, and we look at the details together: a two-week-long intensive course for serious young writers interested in story craft and oral presentation, led by a local author and former bookstore owner, Ellen Scott. Her picture does at least make her look friendly.

  The screen glow on Mom’s face changes from pink to yellow as she clicks to another page. “I can’t believe she’s still accepting registrations.” Then she grunts. “Probably because it’s almost as expensive as yoga camp.”

  Yoga camp. Which Dad always signs us up for.

  She takes off her glasses and looks back at the camera. “You have to speak to your father about this first. And your allowance will go toward paying this tuition.”

  “But Mom!”

  “Fiona Renee, do you want to go to Disneyland or stay home? There are only a few weeks between now and then. I doubt we’ll find something else open that is so appropriate for you. You asked me if you could stay here, and this is my solution. I will sign you up, and keep you home, but that’s as far as I’m helping you.”

  My gratitude for Mom’s toughness melts into being paralyzed by her tenacity. I don’t want to talk to Dad about anything ever again—not that he would even care since now he’s got Jennifer.

  “All right.” It comes out more as a murmur.

  “It’s close by, too, luckily,” she says. “I don’t think we could have invented anything more perfect. All you have to do is clear it with Dad.”

  I can think of a lot of things more perfect than this summer is turning out to be so far, but I just say, “Great.”

  “Now is there anything else?”

  There are so many other things, but she’s already doing this for me, and based on all the catalogs and printed spreadsheets laid out before her, I can see there isn’t time for whatever else my answer might involve.

  “No, ma’am.”

  Her face softens. “It’s been a hard week, hasn’t it?”

  She doesn’t know the half of it.

  “Thank you for helping me find a camp,” I say.

  “All right. Well, tuckle down and get some sleep now. I’ll upload this information into our cloud account so your father can read it if he needs to.”

  “And we’ll talk more Monday, right?”

  “Yes, love. We’ll talk about it Monday.”

  She tells me to have fun with Dad and Leelu this weekend, and to sleep tight.

  When the call ends, I feel both relieved and also somehow not.

  Telling Dad I’m Not Going to Disneyland: A Play

  by Fiona Renee Coppleton

  [Saturday morning, after the last day of school. HENRI COPPLETON is at the kitchen table, reading on his tablet and drinking a glass of grapefruit juice. He is dressed in his workout clothes, and will be leaving for his weekly racquetball game soon. FIONA COPPLETON joins him in her pajamas at the table, knowing she has little time to seize the moment.]

  FIONA: Dad?

  HENRI: Yes, blossom.

  FIONA: [Hesitating] I changed my mind about Disneyland.

  HENRI: [Looking up from screen in shock] What are you saying?

  FIONA: Well, it’s just that—

  HENRI: We’ve been looking forward to this for months. Leelu is—

  FIONA: I know, but—

  HENRI: Is this because of Cassie?

  FIONA: [Wanting to say: You didn’t tell me about Jennifer coming, so I’m not telling you the reason why I don’t want to go, either.] A little.

  HENRI: I know you’re disappointed that she can’t join us, but you can still have a good time with your old dad, eh?

  FIONA: [Wanting to say: See? You’re not even mentioning me having fun with Leelu, because even you know Jennifer will hog all her attention, too. And you’ll be so into it you’ll forget all about me. I’ll just be there watching the three of you have a blast.] It’s just that I found this camp.

  HENRI: [Checks his phone for the time.] A camp that’s better than Disneyland? This you must tell me about.

  FIONA: [Wanting to say: A torture camp in the jungle would be better than this trip now.] It’s a writing camp.

  HENRI: [Sighs.]

  FIONA: We’re hardly going to any camps this summer, and [hoping this part is true] this is the only week I can go. I learned about it at school. [Crosses her fingers against bad luck for bending the truth.]

  HENRI: And I assume you’ve spoken with your mother about this already?

  FIONA: [Wanting to say: Because you would never let me otherwise.] She said I had to talk to you.

  HENRI: [Terse] I will speak to her later. [Pushes back chair, stands.] I’ll be back by eleven thirty. We wi
ll discuss this more then. [Begins to EXIT LEFT, but turns again to FIONA.] This is highly disappointing.

  [FIONA says nothing, and does not watch him go, only kicks the table leg twice in sadness and frustration.]

  [FIN]

  I’m not sure if that’s how plays are really written, or if I have really remembered our conversation exactly. After talking to Dad though, I feel so guilty and conflicted that the second I see my diary sitting there on my desk waiting for me, all the doubt and caution about writing in it drops away.

  But looking down at the pages when I finish, I still feel strange. Not just about what I said to Dad, but about writing in these pages at all. It’s like coming home to a house where someone’s changed all the furniture. Maybe you can still find a way to live there, but it’s not quite the same.

  In spite of my uneasy feeling, or how we ended things, when Dad gets home from his racquetball game, we don’t discuss it any further. Before he heads up to shower, all he says to me is, “Your mother and I talked. I will cancel your ticket,” and I spend the rest of the afternoon in my room, reading, to avoid him. During dinner he makes a big deal about trading memories with Leelu about the last time we were there, and looking at the website to see what new attractions they might scope out. Afterward he gives me the silent treatment and plays one of Leelu’s video games with her instead.

  I tell myself that enduring his sulking is way better than a whole week playing the third wheel at Disneyland with Leelu and Jennifer. It still doesn’t feel very good.

  I’m lying across my bed, staring down at the floor, feeling like the most friendless girl in the world and wondering how I’m going to survive Dad acting like this, when a Snapchat alert chirps in on my phone.

  What are you doing Tuesday? It’s Aja, throwing me a lifeline without even knowing it.

  I don’t know. Why?

  I just saw River and Tyrick at the movies!!

  Hot embarrassment instantly flushes over me at the sight of Tyrick’s name. Does Aja somehow know he’s my secret crush? Or is she just excited because she likes River, and Tyrick happened to be with him?