by Kellie Bean
Maybe she is still at John's house. It would definitely be weird if I just showed up there, uninvited. I don't want John to get in any trouble for having tipped me off about all of this.
I stop in place and turned back toward the house, still trying to figure out what it is I should be doing next, when I see a set of headlights come from the other direction. I don't think anything of it until the car pulls into our driveway. Someone gets out, and the car pulls away again.
Jamie's mom waves at me as she drives past.
Crap.
Not only did I forget about my shift at the animal shelter, but also completely forgot about the fact that I invited half the soccer team over to our house tonight, and I didn't tell any of my family.
Now I am sprinting towards the house as fast as I can make my feet move.
Somehow, maybe by the magic of birthday karma, I reach the driveway before Jamie has had a chance to knock on the door.
"Nope!" I shout, probably sound like a maniac. "Wait a second."
I'm beside Jamie in an instant. "I need to go in the first. I just… go with it. Wait here."
I'm back inside just as Mom is carrying our birthday cake, candles lit, out into the dining room.
"Reece." she says, surprised. "You're back."
Everybody else turns to look at me as one, probably more than a little bit confused.
I'm still trying to both catch my breath and figure out how to best explain this mess I've made.
I start by saying I'm sorry, the rest comes out a whole lot less coherently. I attempt to explain my missed volunteering shift and something about Coach Wasserman not wanting to start fundraising until next week, and how I didn't think we should wait. I told people to bring other people, and I don't even know what we're going to try to do.
Yeah, not much of what I'm saying is making much sense.
I'm hyperventilating by the time I get it all out there while Jamie is still waiting out on the porch.
Without a word, mom disappeared back into the kitchen and I hear her set the tray she was holding, cake and all, back on the counter before she returns.
"Okay." she says. "First, take a breath. This is maybe a little unexpected but, we're Donovan's, we can do chaos. What can I do to help?"
That's when, filled with gratitude and still a little bit confused about whatever just happened in the last five minutes, I start bawling my eyes out in the middle of the hallway, surprising me and everyone else with my outburst.
Yup. I may be feeling a little overwhelmed right now.
Chapter 14
My mini-breakdown only lasts a few seconds before my family realizes I'm kind of freaking out right now, causing them to spring into action and setting the Donovan machine into motion.
Reilly wraps me into a hug, while Reagan goes to answer the door and Dad starts cleaning up. As I'm ushered upstairs to get myself cleaned up, I see Rhiannon pull out the clunky old laptop she bought herself with tutoring money. Apparently, she has on her at all times. Something in her expression promises she's headed into research mode, and not just looking for a distraction online.
I open up my text messages as Reilly and I head upstairs, seeing a new email from Coach Wasserman with a link to the school crowdfunding page. Reilly takes the phone from my hand before I can do anything with it. "Go.” she orders. "Shower, get changed and do whatever you have to do to get back into full power Reece mode. All of this will be waiting for you when you get downstairs."
"Yes Mom." I answer back. She slips back downstairs, leaving me in our room. I feel the tiniest bit more like myself.
I allow myself a five-minute shower, feeling more like myself as soon as the hot water hits my face. I still need to get in touch with Kendra. Also, I really should figure out how many people are headed over to our house right now.
In the few minutes between stepping into the shower, brushing my hair and going back downstairs to see what's going on, my house has been transformed. There are already half a dozen people here! I don't even recognize all of them. The coffee table has been stood upright against the wall so people can sit on the floor and all of the chairs from the kitchen have been brought out to the dining room table.
I find Dad in the kitchen, standing on top of the counter as he rummages through the highest shelves above the refrigerator, his small frame balancing precariously on the marble surface. He pulls bag after bag of chips out and drops each one gently at his feet.
"You've been hiding snacks from us?" I accuse him playfully, grinning even though he can't see me. I regret it at once as he jumps up a little. Probably not my best plan ever to surprise him right now. Thankfully, he stays steady on his feet.
He turns, still carrying two bags in his hands, letting loose with a dramatic eye roll I suspect he learned from me. "Have you ever wanted for snack foods?" I don't answer. "I didn't think so. When you have four kids, you learn to keep a second supply in case anyone shows up with friends in tow. Or, you know, the entire school."
From the front of the house, the front door opens and closes and more voices join the growing crowd. "I didn't think anyone would be free on Friday night, so I kind of left it open for people to bring whoever might want to help us raise some money this weekend."
"A noble effort." Dad says with a nod as he brings himself back down to floor level. "Now, I've got the snacks covered, but this is your shindig. So I suggest you start getting everyone organized."
Biting my lip, I give my dad a pleading look. I'm not even sure what it is I'm asking for. For him to jump in and save the Fairview High Sports Program, maybe?
Yeah, maybe not.
"Did you need something else?"
"I don't know how to get all of this organized!" I admit, throwing my hands up in the air. "I kind of figured we'd figure it out when everyone got here. Or that I'd work it out before dinner."
"Step one." Dad says, handing me a bag of chips. "Feed your troops. I'm not even going to worry about bowls. Just get these out there. After that, figure out what information you already have and where you need to go. You can figure the rest out from there."
"That's all there is to it?" I ask, mocking him a little.
"Almost. Remember that it's okay to ask for help." Despite my tone, my dad seems completely serious. I shrug like none of this matters to me one way or the other. All I can really think as I head out to feed my friends. I didn't even need to ask him for help. It was just there.
The next three hours fly by as we have a constant flood of people coming into and then leaving our house, most having been assigned tasks for the weekend.
I'm not sure what my sisters had planned to do tonight, but not one of them ever leaves the house to go and celebrate their birthdays with whoever. Instead, their friends end up at our house too.
Reagan's friend Rosie teams up with Reilly to lead a bunch of cheerleaders in creating signs and posters. Jen ends up with Rhiannon, working on the computer to coordinate logistics… whatever that means.
I'm not even sure I follow half of what's going on. I end up sharing the link Coach sent us on Facebook and then bugging every single person I meet over the course of the night to share it along with a personal message. Even if each person only manages to pull at the heartstrings of one person they know, enough to get them to donate. It's a start.
The last person doesn't leave our house until just after midnight. Our birthday ended and we didn't even notice. Even though we're all thoroughly exhausted, my parents insist on taking twenty minutes to sing happy birthday, make us blow out our candles while they take pictures, then get us to open our presents… no part of this actually takes any arm twisting, even though all my body wants to do is be unconscious.
I’m not sure what the way I started my sixteenth year says about what’s to come, but as I crawl into my bed both exhausted and cautiously optimistic, I don’t even have enough strength left in me to worry.
Apparently, during the coach's’ single day of research on how to run a successful crowd
funding campaign, they came across the idea of using perks in order to encourage donations.
They decided to run with it. Hard. Which probably has something to do with the fact that it’s their students they have signed up to fulfill these perks and not themselves.
Yup. They’ve decided to be pretty damn generous with our time.
By the time I wake up on Saturday morning, our campaign has already raised a little over five-hundred-dollars, which is pretty exciting. It would be a lot more exciting if it weren’t for the fact that every twenty-five-dollars someone donates entitles them to have one chore done for them by a Fairview High student. Despite our coach’s instance that she wanted to take the weekend to get organized, I still end up going grocery shopping before noon for an older woman who enjoys telling stories about my mother when she was a kid, as well as picking up the dry-cleaning for a retired couple who lives at the end of my street.
Since I ended up doing a little bit of everything last night, I didn’t actually end up on any specific team for all of our other plans, so at least by my taking on as many of these chores as I can, it frees up other people to keep going with the momentum we created last night.
Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
As I push Mrs. Hibbits' decades-old metallic clunker of a lawn mower up and down her property, feeling like I’m wasting my time, I remind myself that Reagan and Jamie are out collecting donations for the yard sale we’ll hold next weekend. Noah and some of his buddies are getting supplies for tomorrow’s car wash. Reilly is already posting some of the signs she created last night around the neighborhood. Those are only the people I can think of off the top of my head. There are at least two dozen more of us who have dedicated their entire weekend to the cause, either by starting to chip away at the list of neighborhood chores we’ve been volunteered for, or by getting ready for the week to come.
As I reach the spot where lawn meets brick wall, I attempt to maneuver the mower into a turn, and end up making a bit of a weird pattern in the grass in front of me. At least this is my last volunteer shift until tonight.
Once I’ve finished the turn, I spot someone I recognize coming out of one of the houses midway down the street. It’s Emma. Her hair pulled back into a loose-ponytail as she leads two small girls outside. She looks up as the machine I’m trying to wrangle lets out an unexpected, sputtering roar of laughter and waves. It’s all the motivation I need to pick up the pace and get this job finished.
By the time I’ve finished with my job and returned the lawn mower to the garage, Mrs. Hibbits lawn looks more like a chia pet with a bad haircut than like it has had any sort of landscaping done. I’m hardly a professional. It will have to do.
Emma and her charges are still outside, so I walk down the street in that direction, glad for the chance to check in with someone else. The two girls are sitting and playing with dolls in the grass.
“Hey.” I say, stopping in front of the house. Emma looks up from her magazine and smiles.
“Finished up with Mrs. Hibbits?”
I nod and roll my shoulders, still stiff from the attempt. “Want to know a secret? That’s actually the first time I’ve ever mowed a lawn. Reagan and my dad both actually enjoy doing it, somehow. So I’ve never had to. It’s about as much fun as it looks.”
Emma laughs.
“How long have you been babysitting for them?” I figure she was probably assigned her task for the day just like I was mine.
“About seven years.” Emma answers.
I stare at her for a second before the obvious answer dawns on me. This isn’t part of the fundraising project. “They’re your sisters?”
“Cousins. I actually live in the house right behind this one, so I’m here for a few hours most Sundays so their parents have a chance to get out of the house for a couple of hours. They have a brother inside too, but he mostly just sleeps and plays video games.”
“Because he’s boring.” one of the little girls says matter-of-fact, as she looks up at me. Her big brown eyes seem impossibly sincere.
“That’s Kaitlyn.” Emma explains. “Her big sister is Kylie.”
“Yeah, I hear brothers are pretty boring,” I say. “I don’t have any, so I wouldn’t know.” I never know what to say to kids when I end up interacting with them. It feels like no matter what comes out of my mouth, they’re going to see right through me.
As Kaitlyn returns to her doll—who, now that I’m closer, I can see is completely covered in scribbles—Kylie looks over at me with interest. “Sisters are better?” She asks.
“Oh, for sure. I have three sisters.” I grab my phone from my back pocket and pull up a picture of the four of us, kneeling down in the grass so both girls can see. “Can you guess which one is me?”
For nearly a minute, Kaitlyn and Kylie study the picture, before the younger of the two looks up at Emma, clearly confused. I expect her to ask for help, but instead she says, “That’s just weird.”
A giggle escapes from my lips, Emma quickly joins in. “You’re right. It’s all kinds of weird.”
I stick my tongue out in response. They have a point.
“Where are you headed after this?” Emma asks once her cousins have lost interest in us.
The two of us sit down on the front step as I answer. “Home for a bit probably time for a nap. Then after dinner I have to go wash my neighbor’s dogs… two of them, since their family paid fifty bucks.”
Emma smiles sympathetically. “That’s not so bad I guess. After this, Coach is sending me on like three or four different missions. The number of donations has already doubled since this morning! So we’re probably going to be doing this kind of stuff for months now, even if everyone on every team contributes their time.”
“I figure it’s better to get it out of the way now, before we have to fit in all of this stuff around practice as well.”
Emma leans back, resting her palms on the concrete behind her. “Do you actually think this is going to work?”
“Right now? Sure. An hour from now? No idea. But yeah, I mean… we’ve already raised like a thousand dollars. That has to count for something. We do still have a week to go.”
“One more week and then life goes back to normal? I can live with that.”
“Yeah, normal sounds pretty okay right about now.”
“It’s weird. A month ago, I was kind of dreading getting back into the habit of soccer practice. It’s one thing to do it during summer, but while school’s on too, it’s kind of a pain in the ass. Now, all I want to do is play. Even if this does work, we’re going to be behind every other school in the region. So I’m dying to get all of this over with so we can start playing some actual soccer again.”
“Ugh. I totally feel you on that one.” Emma stays silent for a minute. Eventually I look over at her, expecting to find her lost in thought. Instead, she looks excited. “Everything okay?”
“Why don’t we?” Emma asks?
“Why don’t we, what?”
“Play. Tonight. I mean, it won't be an official practice or anything, but at least we can play. The field at school will be free.”
“That is an amazing idea! We can do a scrimmage or something, or maybe even run drills.” Already, I’m imagining myself kicking a ball around, scoring the winning goal and sprinting as fast as I can across the field.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a weirdly enthusiastic planner?” Emma asks.
“Huh?”
“You jump into everything totally full speed. You’re the reason we’re doing the car wash tomorrow, and why we have a head start on the stuff for next week. Hell, you’re probably the reason we’ve already raised so much money and are stuck doing all of these chores already. Don’t overthink this one. Just let people know, we’ll see who shows up. Even if there’s just a few of us…”
“It’ll still be awesome.” I finish, but deflate a little. She’s probably right. Nonetheless, it’s still a little weird to think about. I mean, I don�
�t like to sit around, but I never really considered how often I’d been taking charge lately. Willingly or otherwise. This time last year, I wasn’t doing anything like this. I was mostly just sulking about not being able to play soccer and enjoying getting to know all of the cute guys Fairview has to offer. “We should invite the guys team too.” I add on a whim. “I’m sure they feel a lot like we do. Then at least we’re more likely to get some solid teams.”
“See, you can’t even help it.”
I laugh like my suggestion had everything to do with taking charge of our impromptu soccer game too, and nothing to do with the fact that I barely got to see Noah yesterday, even though he was actually at my house. If the guys come play tonight, there’s a good chance he’ll be there too.
I know Noah is off limits. I know guys in general are off limits, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is just so pretty to look at.
Chapter 15
There’s no polite way to tell Morgan Murtz that both of her shih tzu's are little demons—even Bingo is better about getting a bath then they are. At least by the time I’m through with wrestling with them in her tub, she has to admit they look a lot better than they did.
By the time I get home, I barely have time to eat and change my clothes before it’s time to meet everyone else at the school. If I smell like wet dog, at least no one is brave enough to tell me about it.
It’s already dark outside by the time I arrive at the field behind Fairview High. It's a clear enough night and the moon hangs large above us, so I have no trouble seeing. By the looks of the girls already kicking a ball between them, no one else does either. A couple of guys sit on the bleachers, but so far there’s no sign of Noah.
I don’t even bother saying hello to anyone. Instead, I drop my bag on the ground and sprint toward the field, intercepting a pass between a couple of our team’s younger girls who didn’t even see me coming.
From that moment on, I’m completely in the zone. I don’t notice as other people show up, or even really when they join in. What starts as a few of us kicking the ball around morphs into a full-fledged game with a mixture of guys and girls on each team with minimal hassle.