The Whole Story of Half a Girl

by Veera Hiranandani

  “Sonia,” I hear a man’s deep voice call out behind me. I turn around and see a cheery round face grinning as wide as the open sea.

  “Jack!” I say, and run toward him. I dive into his warm arms. I swallow hard so I won’t cry. He pulls me back and holds my shoulders.

  “Lemme look at you,” he says. “Ah, you look even smarter. Your new school must be doing a good job.”

  My cheeks get hot and I shrug. If I look any smarter it’s probably just an accident.

  “We miss you,” he says, and looks up at Mom.

  “Sonia misses you guys too,” Mom says, “but she’s really doing well at her new school. She joined the cheerleading team.” I notice that my mom’s voice cracks slightly, like she’s trying to hold back tears herself.

  “That’s great. I’m sure she’s dazzling them all.”

  I’m about to say that I’m not dazzling anyone and Jack will always be the best teacher I’ve ever had, but the lights flicker, telling everyone to get into their seats.

  “That’s my signal. Come talk to me after the show,” Jack says. He walks off down the aisle toward the back of the stage. I picture everyone rushing around straightening their costumes, bristling with excitement and nervousness. I would give all the green loafers in the world to be back there tonight.

  The lights go dim and the stage brightens. A person steps onto the stage in a big fancy dress and a wig piled high with yellow curls. For a second I’m not sure who she is, but then she opens her mouth and Sam’s voice travels out into the auditorium. She starts talking about her wonderful family and friends and all her riches. Above all, she has the prettiest poodle anyone has ever seen. Then someone dressed like a poodle comes bounding onstage. Sam leads him through a series of tricks. He sits, lies down, rolls over, and plays dead. Then he does a little Irish jig and the whole audience laughs. Even though his face is covered, I know it must be Connor. Nobody else could be so funny.

  The play is great. Basically it’s about a family who thinks they’re the most perfect people in the world. One day, when no one is home, they leave their safe open by accident. The poodle pulls out a bag filled with jewels and money and buries it in the backyard. Suddenly everyone in the perfect family is blaming one another for the missing riches. At the end, while the family is having a terrible fight, the poodle goes out into the backyard, digs up the bag, and comes in and drops it in the middle of the room. The family just stares and stares in silence. Then the poodle does another jig and the lights go down.

  I’m not sure what it all means, but it makes me think about money and whether my family was happier when it had more. Now that Dad has a new job, if the money thing is true we should all be happy again, right? Not according to the poodle, I guess. Maybe being happy is not how much money you have, but how you spend it.

  The audience gives everyone a standing ovation and Sam looks like she’s going to burst. I’m close enough to the stage that I can see her hands shaking with excitement. I know I should go backstage and tell her how fantastic she was. I know I should give her a hug and try to melt away the weirdness between us, but all I want to do is leave.

  “Let’s go see Sam,” Mom says, and doesn’t wait for my answer. I shuffle behind Natasha as she gallops after Mom.

  Sam’s parents, Jack, and some of my old classmates from Community surround Sam, who’s still in her costume and makeup. Her face is as red as a fire truck. I think she sees me but I’m not sure. I move in closer.

  “Sonia!” she finally calls, and waves me over.

  “Hi. You were so—” I say, but never get to finish. Everything is a big blur of Mom hugging her, Sadie and Ben hugging me, and Natasha fussing over Sam’s costume. Mom gushes over her and I just stand there smiling with jealousy. And just when I think it couldn’t get any worse, Connor comes over to Sam and they give each other a huge jumping hug. He’s still dressed in most of the poodle costume except for his mask and he looks even more beautiful than I remembered, with his shiny dark hair, green eyes, and long lashes. He and Sam immediately launch into a breakdown of the play, spurting out all the juicy details—I can’t believe this and I can’t believe that! You were so good! No, you were! Did you see when I almost tripped? Did you notice when I forgot my line?

  I pull on Mom’s sleeve to give her the “let’s go” signal. She stops talking to Sadie and looks down.

  “I’m really tired,” I say. “Can we leave?”

  Mom gives me a funny look, but doesn’t argue and starts saying her goodbyes. Just before we head off, I touch Sam on the shoulder. “You were so great,” I say, trying to sound happy for her, but my voice is low and sad.

  “Thanks,” she says. Connor finally sees me.

  “Hi, Sonia Nadhamuni!” he says.

  My stomach does a flip when I hear him say my name so easily. I wave and smile, but I have no words left. Mom puts a hand on my shoulder and I turn toward the door.

  “Bye, Sonia,” Sam says. I give her a little wave. Then she goes back to talking to the others about the play. The ringing of their happy voices follows me outside into the dark, cold night.

  chapter eighteen

  After we get home I go straight to my room, climb to the top of my closet, and lie down on the highest shelf. It’s a big, wide, sliding-door closet, and I use the row of side shelves as a ladder to get up. I used to hang out here a lot when I was younger. So it’s empty except for a pillow and my stuffed bear, who’s called Doggie because when I was little I thought all animals were dogs. I would read with a flashlight or just make up stories and whisper them to myself. It’s my secret place where I get to just be me. I can hardly fit anymore, but it doesn’t matter as I lay my head against the pillow, hold Doggie, and run vocabulary words through my head one by one.

  I hear Mom knock on my door. I don’t say anything. Then slowly she pushes it open. “Sonia?”

  I sit up quickly and bang my head on the ceiling. “Ow.”

  “Where are you?” Mom asks, now standing in the middle of my dark room.

  “In here,” I say, and shine my flashlight at her.

  “What are you doing?” she says, shielding her eyes from the light.

  “I don’t know.” I start climbing down.

  “I didn’t think you went up there anymore.”

  I just shrug and sit on my bed. She turns on my light and sits next to me.

  “Jackie called me,” she says. I look at her and wonder if they’re becoming friends.

  “She told me you went to church with them last Sunday and that she heard you telling me on the phone that you were going to brunch, not church.”

  I open my mouth to tell her we did go to brunch, after church, that I just forgot to tell her about the church part.

  “Wait.” She holds up her finger. “And Jackie said that you told them you weren’t Jewish.”

  My face burns. I didn’t think Jackie was the type of mom to call other moms and tell them this kind of stuff. I put my hands on my cheeks and hang my head. “So I guess you’re not going to let me sleep over at Kate’s anymore.”

  Mom lifts my chin up gently to face her.

  “I didn’t say that, but I do want to know why you lied about going to church, why you said you weren’t Jewish.”

  “Because I was afraid Jackie wouldn’t let me come to church with them.”

  “Really? That’s why?”

  No, but I wasn’t sure how to explain it.

  “Do you think Jackie has a problem with you being Jewish?” Mom continues, her voice getting higher, more upset. “Because if that’s what’s going on, I’m going to have to talk to—”

  “No, Mom,” I interrupt her. “It’s not like that. It’s me.”

  “You never had a problem being Jewish before you met Kate and Jackie.”

  “It just seemed easier having to explain less. You’re not that Jewish either, Mom. You didn’t even marry someone Jewish.”

  Mom’s face turns from worried and searching to angry. Her mouth sets in a hard,
straight line.

  “I may not be the most religious person in the world, but I never would have disrespected my background like that. When I married your dad, I felt as Jewish as I ever did.” She wipes the top of her forehead, like she’s hot. “Even if other people didn’t think so.”

  I swallow. Why couldn’t Jackie have minded her own business?

  “I didn’t mean to disrespect anything, I just …” Mom gets up.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to hang out with Kate so much,” she says. “You need a break from that household.”

  And then she’s out my door and down the stairs, end of discussion, which is not like Mom at all. But I’m not really surprised. Why would anything go the way I want it to these days?

  The sun wakes me up the next day, and it’s so bright, it seems to erase all that’s come before it. It’s our first home game of the season. All the cheerleaders are supposed to wear their uniforms to school like the older girls do. I put mine on and stare in the mirror. I’ve worn it before, but this is the first time I’ve worn my uniform to school. The blue and white sweater and skirt fit nicely. I actually look kind of cute and not as silly as Sam might think. I scrape up my hair in a high, bouncy ponytail the way Kate always wears her hair for practice and tie it with a white ribbon. Mom smiles at me when I come downstairs, but then tries to yank down my skirt a little. When I wait for the bus, Cindy and Heather even talk to me, which they hardly ever do. And Mr. Totono gives me a high five when he sees me in the hall.

  During English, a folded mint-green note lands on my desk just after Mrs. Langley passes out our corrected vocabulary tests. I got a C, which is better than a D. Mom won’t be happy, but I’m too excited to be upset about it. Grades are still strange to me. At Community we never got grades, just written evaluations that explained all the good things we did and the stuff we needed to work on, so I never had to stare at a red C or worse. At Community no one could fail—another thing Alisha thinks is incredible. I unfold the note carefully while keeping a close eye on Mrs. Lonely, as Kate calls her.

  Are you going to Peter Hanson’s party?

  P.S. I’m so psyched for the game!

  I stare at it. I haven’t been invited to Peter Hanson’s party. I look to the left and see Peter sitting in the back. He’s busy folding up one of his famous paper airplanes. Two days ago he called me a cow-worshipper under his breath in the cafeteria line. I decided then and there that I hated Peter Hanson.

  No, are you? I write back.

  She tosses another note my way, this time landing on the floor by my feet. I pretend to scratch my ankle as I pick it up. Why??? it says. Just then Mrs. Langley shoots me a glance. I quickly tuck the note under my social studies textbook, relieved that I can’t reply just yet. I’m not surprised that Peter didn’t invite me to his party. Most of the boys on the football team haven’t paid much attention to me or, like Peter, have made fun of me. The only boy who has seemed to notice me in a good way is one of Alisha’s friends from Bridgeport, Marcus. When I look at him he smiles and then looks away fast. I get the feeling he likes me, but he’s never said a word to me, so I don’t really know if I’d like him back. This is something I’ve thought about, though—the only boy who has paid attention to me is black. I wonder if he thinks I’m black.

  After school all the cheerleaders stand in a group at the front of the building waiting to walk over to the football field. My legs jitter with nerves. I can’t believe that I will actually cheer in front of so many strangers. We huddle together, and most of the girls, led by Jess, are looking around for people to talk about. Jess sticks out her chest in her tight cheerleading sweater and makes jokes about this and that girl, this and that boy. Kate doesn’t pay much attention. She’s focused and quiet, picking up her legs one at a time to stretch her hamstrings, whispering her cheers into the crisp fall air. I like her even more for ignoring Jess, and I gladly join her stretching while trying to shove the butterflies back down in my stomach. I hope Kate doesn’t bring up Peter’s party.

  This is the time I usually talk to Alisha, except it’s been a while because of cheerleading. She sees me and waves. Then she starts walking over in her big T-shirt and baggy jeans.

  “Hi, Sonia, guess what?” she says.

  “Hey,” I say, trying to be all mellow. I bend my leg, bring my ankle up to my butt, and hold it there until I feel my muscles burn.

  “I finished my book. And I put in all this stuff about the Taj Mahal. I decided that they fall in love there instead of Paris. Want to read it?” She thrusts her thick black notebook out at me.

  “Now?” I’m speaking low to her, almost whispering. I’m not used to talking to Alisha in front of all my cheerleading friends, in front of Kate.

  Her face crumples and she pulls back her notebook.

  “Not now,” she says. “You could take it home.”

  “Okay” is all I say. I see Kate’s eyes dart at me and Alisha. Jess grabs Kate’s arm and whispers something in her ear. Alisha holds her notebook out again, waiting. “Can you give it to me tomorrow? I don’t want to bring it to the game. It could get stolen.” This part is actually true.

  “Yeah, sure.” Then she takes a deep breath. “So are you ever going to ask your parents if you can come over?” she says, her eyes fierce, hands on hips.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy with cheerleading and homework and—”

  “I thought you were different,” she says, and walks away without another word. I glance back at Kate and Jess. Kate’s stretching again and doesn’t look at me.

  “What’s up with her clothes?” Jess says. “She looks like a boy.”

  I shrug and bend over to touch my toes, staying there as the blood rushes to my head, making me feel a little sick.

  The blacktop feels hard yet springy under my feet as we all line up on the track that circles the football field. The players are warming up and mostly parents of the football players are in the bleachers. Jackie’s there too, and she winks at me. Jackie says the best time of her life was when she cheered in high school. It makes me sad to think that the best time in her life was when she was a teenager, and I wonder if being a grown-up is any fun at all.

  My parents couldn’t come because of work, but I’m kind of glad. On one hand, I want to show them how cool our pyramids are, and maybe Mom would think I’m doing something that’s actually a real sport, a real performance, just as good as any play. But then again, if my parents were here, my sneakers wouldn’t feel so bouncy.

  Kate leads us all through some more stretches. Then we practice toe-touches. I’ve learned how to do a back handspring into a toe-touch. Kate showed me how and now I’m better at it than she is. During the halftime break in the game, we’re supposed to do a big cheer in the middle of the field with a pyramid, and then I get to do a cartwheel back handspring, ending with a toe-touch while everyone stays in the pyramid. Whenever I do it in practice everyone watches quietly, like I’m doing something important. And it does feel important, even if it’s only a few tricks, even if Sam thinks I’m just running around in a silly outfit.

  The game starts and the team goes through all the little cheers on the sidelines. I see Jess out of the corner of my eye and she’s a bit out of step with everyone. It seems like only about five seconds pass before halftime. When we all run out to the field my ankle twists a little, enough to send a shooting pain up my leg.

  The cheer goes smoothly and I try to ignore the throbbing. The pyramid isn’t a problem because I just stand on the side, but I’m not sure how my ankle is going to handle a cartwheel, back handspring, and toe-touch. I could fall on my face in front of half the school. Kate could think she has it all wrong, that I’m not special, that I’m just a klutzy weird girl.

  Kate gets lifted to the top of the pyramid like she’s a feather. Everyone’s arms and legs are strong and solid. Even the football players pay attention. I clap out the cheer with everyone:

  We are strong,

  We have the might,


  Go blue and yellow,

  Fight, fight, fight!

  On the last “fight” I run. In a flash I decide not to care about my ankle, or Kate, or Peter Hanson’s party, or my sad dad, or my nervous mom, or Sam, or taking the money from Mom, or the D I got on my vocabulary test, or whether I want to be Jewish or not. All I care about is the way I feel when my feet hit the ground after the back handspring. The way I pop up into the air, my legs so high they practically make a V. The satisfying sting in my palms after smacking my toes harder than I ever have. It’s a toe-touch for the ages.

  Everyone, even Peter Hanson, starts clapping and whoo-hooing as the whole team runs back to the sidelines. Kate pats me on the back, and to my amazement so do Jess and a few other girls. I can’t feel my ankle anymore. It’s completely numb. I can only feel the smile that stretches across my face so wide, it hurts. Wonder what Mom would think about cheerleading now.

  chapter nineteen

  The envelope says Sonia Nadamoony. I hold the card in my hand, closing and opening it again to make sure it’s real. There are balloons on the front with the word “party” in gold letters. Inside it says:

  A Birthday Party for Peter!

  WHEN: Saturday, November 15, 3 p.m.

  WHERE: 125 Birch Street

  RSVP: Margaret Hanson, 555-4658

  I receive this invitation four days after the game. I had finally told Kate that I wasn’t invited to Peter’s party, since she asked me again why I wasn’t going. She said Peter probably just didn’t know my last name, because the rest of the cheerleading team had been invited. I know this can’t be true unless Peter is secretly deaf: Mrs. Langley calls attendance using both first and last names every morning. Kate said she was going to say something to Peter. I said, “No, don’t,” but meant “Please do,” even though I don’t like Peter. Kate somehow knew I really wanted her to say something and now I’m holding this invitation. Maybe my ESP powers have transferred from Sam to Kate.