Sticks & Stones

by Abby Cooper

  “I’m sure. Absolutely. Positively. Sí, señora.”

  “But, honey, things have been so tense with Jeg. You haven’t seen her once over break. Who are you going to hang out with?”

  “Olivia. Or the Hannahs. Or Nice Andy. Or no one.”

  “But won’t you feel a little uncomfortable there? I could give Dr. Patel a call and see what he says about it. Or maybe I could go with you for a little while, just until you get settled.”

  “Mo-om,” I groaned. “I’m in sixth grade. Come on! Plus,” I added, “the only certain thing in life is doubt. Sticks and stones. Hakuna matata. Hocus pocus. Et cetera.”

  Mom laughed. “Yes. Exactly. All of those things.” She pulled me into a forceful hug. “It wouldn’t be cool for me to come with you. I know. You’re growing up so fast.” She traced circles on my back with her fingers like she did whenever I couldn’t sleep because I was itchy. Part of me wanted her to stop, but another part of me could stand there forever.

  “I already slipped some maximum-strength cream into your purse,” she added. “Just so you have it. In case.”

  I didn’t say anything, but after a minute or two I looked up at her with pleading eyes. It was time for the hug to end so I could finish getting ready. And take the lotion out of my purse and put it in a top-secret hiding spot where she’d never find it. I was not going to be spending the night hiding in the bathroom slathering anti-itch goop all over myself, thank you very much.

  Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any major itches that needed gooping anyway.

  Mom finally set me free, and I put the finishing touches on my outfit: a sparkly purple headband, dangly earrings, my classiest black-and-silver-striped socks, and shiny black boots. I considered adding my half-a-peace-sign necklace but left it on my dresser next to that lonely piece of gum.

  I hadn’t had a chance to throw that gum away yet, but I would.

  “How do I look?” I asked Dad when we got in the car.

  He quickly scanned me from head to toe and smiled.

  “You look, um, sparkly!” he said.

  I sighed as SPARKLY formed on my leg. He was right. I did look sparkly. But was that really the best word he could come up with?

  Luckily, Mom had more than enough good words to contribute.

  “You look so beautiful,” she said. “Very glamorous. Right, honey?” She elbowed Dad in the stomach and he jumped a little in his seat. BEAUTIFUL and GLAMOROUS popped up and felt good, but didn’t do much to make all the butterflies in my stomach settle down.

  “You’ve got to stop doing that while I’m driving!” he yelped. “It’s not safe,” he said to Mom in a quieter voice. Then he took a deep breath and his voice went back to normal. “But yes. Yes. You’re right. About Elyse. And all of that.”

  “Greg,” Mom said in the same kind of voice she used on me when I was in trouble. I wondered what Dad was in trouble for, but it was hard to pay attention to them. We had just passed the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier, so I knew we were only minutes away from downtown. I squirmed around in my seat. Couldn’t Dad drive any faster?

  A million zillion years later, we finally pulled up to the hotel on Michigan Avenue. It was about a thousand stories high, and two humongous men in black suits stood in front of the door.

  Mom turned around, smiled all big in a way that made me nervous, and asked, “Want me to walk in with you?”

  I wanted to say No way, but the words wouldn’t come out. There was no reason I needed to be nervous; I had been to tons of Jeg’s parties just like this. And even though this time there would be closer to a hundred and fifty people (instead of just the regular fifty), it would be fine. And fun! But the noisy pounding in my heart didn’t seem to agree.

  “I can do it,” I said in a shaky voice. I rubbed my arms and tried as hard as I could to remember the words that were under my sleeves. They were mostly good ones. I was mostly good. I could do this on my own. I could. I would.

  I forced myself to get out of the car before I changed my mind.

  “Bye,” I called, waving.

  But Mom and Dad didn’t budge until I told my name to the Suit Guys and walked through the door. And even then it was hard to tell if they really left. But I kept moving, following the signs to the elevators and getting in. When the doors shut, I knew I was really, truly on my own.

  For a second I thought about pressing 1 and going right back down to the ground floor. I imagined myself running past the Suit Guys and back into the car, which was probably still there, waiting for me to do just that.

  And that was exactly why I couldn’t.

  21

  JEG AROUND THE WORLD

  The elevator opened on the seventy-fifth floor, the one that said Penthouse next to it on the buttons. As soon as the doors opened, a huge sense of relief washed over me. This was just a Jeg party, and I would have friends here, and there would be such good cake. My mouth watered just thinking about it.

  The hotel was decorated like fifty thousand other countries all at once, and they were all extremely fancy. A red carpet started right outside the elevator and continued for miles, it seemed like, twisting and turning in thousands of different directions. It had to be longer than the red carpets that actual celebrities had at their birthday parties. On my right, there were walls made out of glass, giving way to an incredible view. I could see the entire city, the lake, the TVs that were on in all the nearby buildings, and all the teeny people who were watching them. To my left, there were signs. “Jeg Around the World!” they announced in huge, sparkling letters.

  I poked my head into each room I passed. They were all named for a different country. There was a taco/nacho bar in Mexico, henna tattoos in India, crepes in France, and clog dancing in Ireland. It was a typical Jeg party. Actually, it was a little less crazy than usual. I hadn’t even seen any famous people yet.

  I couldn’t find Jeg or Olivia anywhere, but I did see pretty much everyone else in the entire school. They all passed in their little groups, and some of them gave me funny looks, but I didn’t mind. I was busy Jegging around the world. Also looking for cake. Where in the world was the fancy cake?

  I popped into China and opened a chocolate-covered fortune cookie. Be wary of a tall stranger, it said. Well, that was weird; I didn’t know any tall strangers and I didn’t plan on meeting any. But I would certainly eat the tasty cookie.

  When I turned around to go to the next country, there was Liam, in the doorway, standing there like he was waiting for me.

  I thought back to the fortune. Tall? Yes, he was. A stranger? Well, sort of. Even with the six magical days of going out we’d had, there was still a lot about him I didn’t know, probably. He could be a stranger, sure. But I wasn’t going to be wary. I was going to be awesome.

  “Hey,” he said.

  A shiver zoomed down my spine from the sound of his voice.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Great!” Calm down, self. That came out in a way-too-excited kind of voice.

  “Cool.”

  He studied me, and I studied right back. There was a sparkle in his eyes that made me think he was figuring out the meaning of life, but maybe he was really figuring out more ways to make me nervous (if me being more nervous was even possible). Or maybe he was just thinking about French-fry pies. I might never know.

  I hated how he looked at me with those dumb sparkly eyeballs of his. It was different from when anyone else looked at me. He wasn’t just noticing my shirt or my hair or the teeny piece of fortune cookie that was probably stuck in my teeth, the things everyone else saw. It felt like he was trying to see right through me, trying to see the real person I was instead of the cool one I was trying to be.

  “Stop,” I said.

  “Stop what?”

  “Looking at me like that!”

  “How am I looking at you?” He smirked like he already knew the answer.

  “Cut it out!” Holy high heels, did I really just say that?

  His lips relaxed into a
thin smile.

  “You’ve sure gotten sassy,” he said.

  Oh, hey, SASSY. That word didn’t seem to know if it wanted to hurt me or help me. It just kinda made me jumpy.

  “A lot of things have changed,” I said, trying to make my voice stop wobbling. It was not the most cooperative.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “You did great. Thanks.”

  I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I was definitely going to take any compliments I could get, especially if he was the one giving them.

  “You’re welcome!”

  We stood there looking at each other for what felt like hours. Liam didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t leave, either, or start talking to any of the other people who kept going in and out of the room.

  I lingered, my heart thumping and making me feel like I was going to pass out any second, but in the very best possible way.

  When he finally smiled one last time and wandered away, that feeling went away with him, all the way to Israel. It was only down the hall, but still. I wanted it back so bad.

  I sat down for a second to catch my breath. My heart was racing out of control. I glanced at my thin silver watch. Liam had talked to me for a whole four minutes! Maybe this had been his sneaky way of telling me he still liked me. Why would he talk to me for so long when there were so many people to hang out with and even more fun things to do and eat? Why did he give me that weird compliment that didn’t make any sense? Why did he thank me, even though I had no clue what he was thanking me for? Maybe he was nervous. Maybe he finally liked me again!

  I grinned like a total baboon. Maybe we could get back together! But first there was the pesky matter of breaking up with Nice Andy. Well, a girl had to do what a girl had to do. I could take care of it. Probably.

  I sprinted out of the room and into the next one.

  “G’day, Mates!” a giant green sign announced. Oh, how nice. I had run right into Australia, where Olivia was posing for a picture with a blow-up kangaroo.

  “Guess what.” I grabbed her arm once she’d passed the kangaroo to the next person in line. “It’s not official, but I think Liam and I are going to get back together. Don’t tell.”

  “That’s so exciting!” she said. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. We were talking for a little while. I got a feeling.”

  “That is so great!” she squealed. We held hands and jumped up and down a few times. (Okay, a hundred times. Whatever.) We sounded just like the Loud Crowd, but I was way too excited to care.

  “Want to go surfing?” Olivia asked, looking toward a corner of the room where several surfboards were set up against a green screen. Someone was filming your rides and then editing the video to make it look like you were really surfing in the ocean. I was kind of surprised that Jeg’s parents hadn’t arranged to move an actual ocean to Chicago especially for the party.

  “Yes, I do,” I said, and off we went.

  “Surfin’ USA!” Olivia sang as she surfed.

  I joined in.

  “Surfin’ USA!” Neither of us knew the rest of the words to the song, so we kept repeating those two over and over again until we were laughing too hard to sing.

  When our turns were done, we wandered out of Australia.

  “Where should we go next?” Olivia consulted her map of the two floors where the party was. It listed each country along with its room number and activities.

  “Don’t think about it,” I told her, snatching the map out of her hands and crumpling it up to make a point. “Let’s just go…” I looked around. “That way!” I pointed down the stairs to my right. “Come on! Surfin’ USA!” I encouraged. Surfin’ USA had nothing to do with taking the stairs to the right. It didn’t matter.

  “Okay!” Olivia laughed. “Surfin’ USA!”

  “Wouldn’t it technically be Surfin’ Australia?” I asked as we ambled down the stairs to the next floor.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Don’t think about it.”

  I smiled. And I didn’t.

  Downstairs, the party was totally raging. A DJ was hanging out in Holland, one of the hotel’s huge conference rooms. Before we went in there, Olivia and I learned a cool soccer ball trick in Brazil, made our own anime characters in Japan, looked at some fancy art in Italy, and ate some awesome cheese and chocolate in Switzerland. Then we ran to the dance floor. I couldn’t believe how much stuff I was doing, and without thinking one bit! Could it be that I was actually having fun at a party without my old best friend or my own personal pop star?

  Just as we were getting our groove going, the music slowed down.

  “Time to find someone special,” the DJ crooned. No! I didn’t want to find someone special. I wanted to keep dancing! Unless Liam was around …

  The crowd thinned out, and Nice Andy came toward me from far away, almost in slow motion. Don’t think about it, I told myself. Just do things. Be nice and dance with Nice Andy! He bought you soup. He called you awesome. He made you pictures after all the class CAV chats. You owe him!

  As he came closer, though, it occurred to me that, ew, no way did I want to dance with Nice Andy. Even if he gave me all the beef stew, string cheese, and pictures in the world, he would still have spit bubbles at the corners of his mouth and a goofy, toothy grin and hands even sweatier than mine. The second my eyes spotted the shiny red exit sign, I knew I had to make a run for it. When Nice Andy turned his head for a second, I bolted, and I didn’t stop running until I had safely reached Antarctica across the hall.

  So maybe this wouldn’t be the night of my first slow dance. It should be with Liam, anyway, I told myself, and squealed a little in my brain. We were sooo getting back together!

  Olivia caught up to me and dragged me two rooms down, to Jamaica, otherwise known as the hotel’s ginormous indoor pool. It was dark, but strings of multicolored lights strung all over made it seem like a bright paradise. Except it was really still a pool. I froze.

  “Let’s go swimming!” Olivia said as she glanced over at the complimentary bathing-suit shop set up by the locker rooms. Most people had brought their own suits, but Jeg had probably figured that some people would forget and she wouldn’t want anyone to miss any swimming fun.

  I let out a quiet groan. I was one of the people who forgot, except actually I hadn’t brought a suit on purpose. Wearing a swimsuit meant showing my word-covered arms and legs to Olivia for the first time. Maybe she already knew, but she had never said anything, so maybe she didn’t know. And while my words were mostly cool at the moment, it was still a big deal to explain the whole thing to people who didn’t know about it. Not to mention, I’d be reminding all the people in my grade who had forgotten or stopped caring. But since I was all about doing stuff now instead of thinking, did that mean I had to grab one of the freebie suits and swim? I didn’t want to do it. Even though the water looked all warm and sparkly and I was still a little bit chilly from my minute in Antarctica.

  My phone buzzed with a text from Dad.

  Will be there soon. They say you spend six months of your life waiting for red lights to change. I am well on my way. Hope you’re having fun!

  I didn’t totally want to leave, but I didn’t totally want to stay, either. I knew that this was probably the best opportunity I’d have to make my exit.

  “I actually have to go,” I told Olivia in a voice that I tried to make sound really sad. “My dad’s coming. Boo! I really wanted to swim.” Not.

  I sprinted out of the pool area in record time and hopped into the elevator. I would have gone swimming if I’d had time, I told myself as the elevator took me to the ground floor. Even if that meant Olivia would see my words. I would have. Dumb Dad had to come and interrupt. Still, I smiled. Except for a few little details, the night had been totally perfect.

  I ran into Jeg’s mom on my way out.

  “Hey, girlfriend! How are ya?” She kissed both of my cheeks.

  “Good.” I smiled up at her. Wow. She had grown like another five inches si
nce I’d see her last—actually, that was just her shoes. Holy high heels, how did she walk in those things? Or even stand? Other than that, she looked the same as always. Her long, wavy black hair fell all the way to her hips. Her makeup was perfect, down to her dark purple lips and silver sparkles clinging to her eyelashes. It must have taken her, like, more years to get ready than I’d been alive.

  “Your outfit is adorbs, dahling. You are just fab. Kisses!” She took a sip of her drink and looked away, so I guess the conversation was over. I should have been annoyed—Jeg’s mom talked a lot like Snotty Ami, after all—but I was too excited from the awesomeness of the night. Anyway, if you’re all fancy and famous, you can probably get away with talking however you want. And FAB and ADORBS were very new and interesting words to have on my body.

  “How’d it go?” Dad asked when I got in the car. I slunk down in the front seat and leaned against my seat belt. It was just hitting me that I was completely exhausted.

  But happy. Adorbs. Fab. Probably getting back together with Liam.

  Holy high heels. Liam. I felt my face getting hot and red. This was probably not a Dad kind of conversation. I’d try to talk about things he was interested in instead.

  “It was good. Weather’s not too bad tonight, huh? Did you make it through all the red lights?”

  As if right on cue, the yellow light in front of us turned red and we stopped. Dad looked over in my direction. He was smiling, but he had big, sad eyes. What did he have to be sad about?

  “Yeah, I made it through the red lights. Except this one.” He laughed awkwardly. “Ha, ha, ha.”

  The conversation came to a quick end after that. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, pretending that the hum of the car and the peaceful night had rocked me right to sleep.

  And then we were home. Dad gently jostled me “awake,” and I got into my own bed and actually went to sleep and had very nice dreams of Liam and me getting back together and being weird together and traveling across the world. It was only when I woke up in the morning that I realized I had never gotten any cake.