“I see,” Mr. Gallagher said.
“Please don’t say no,” Doriane said. It was the first time she’d spoken during the whole meeting. Then she blushed, and said softly, “It’s just that they need help there so badly. It’s so important.”
“You’re right, Doriane,” Mr. Gallagher said. “And I don’t mean to stop any of you from doing things to help out. But you’re talking about raising a lot of money in a very short period of time. I’m just not sure it’s going to be possible.”
“That’s why we have the Super Sponsors,” I said.
“Super Sponsors?” Mr. Gallagher asked.
“That’s what we’re calling the businesses or people who sponsor the track team. We figured they might be more willing to donate money if there was a special sponsorship level, and then we can reach our goal,” I explained.
“Yeah,” Jake continued. “Then we’ll have signs printed up thanking all the Super Sponsors. It will be like advertisements at real sporting events. Businesses like having their names up everywhere.”
“As long as it’s okay with you, that’s what we’ll do,” I added.
“Those are all very good ideas,” Mr. Gallagher said. I could tell he was starting to consider our idea again, and I decided to show him something. I unzipped my backpack and pulled out my binder. The letter Aunt Jean and I had dictated to Doriane was right on top, and I took it out.
“We even brought a sample letter we wrote to hand out to potential sponsors,” I said. “See.” I handed the letter across the desk, and Mr. Gallagher took it from me. I watched his eyes dart back and forth quickly as he read it, and then he looked back up at us.
“I see you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he said. He turned to me. “It’s good to see you’re putting all that energy of yours to good use, Katie.” His voice sounded stern for a second, but then he winked. I thought that meant he was saying yes, but I wasn’t sure.
“Does that mean we can do it?” I asked.
Mr. Gallagher bent his head in one long and deliberate nod.
“All right, that is awesome!” I said. I turned to Jake and Doriane and slapped them five each. Then Mr. Gallagher cleared his throat, and I remembered that I still had to act grown-up. “Thanks, Mr. Gallagher,” I said.
“Thank you, Katie,” he said.
“We can show you the sponsor sheets too. We made one up for regular sponsors, like our parents and friends, and one for the Super Sponsors.”
Mr. Gallagher looked over everything we had and said we should make up packets to hand out to the potential sponsors, including a copy of the article that Doriane had reported on. He pulled out a box full of official folders with “Hillside Middle School” printed in silver across the front. “These should get you started,” he said.
“Wow,” I said. “Thanks.”
“The three of you have a lot of work to do this weekend,” Mr. Gallagher said. “We’ll have an assembly Monday morning, and you’re going to need to make up enough packets to hand out to the students who want to participate. I have a feeling that there will be a lot of them.”
Things were working out just the way I’d wanted them to—even with Doriane there. Mr. Gallagher stood, which was our clue to leave. Jake pumped Mr. Gallagher’s hand, and then I stepped forward to shake his hand again too. That made it seem like an official agreement. Mr. Gallagher told us to meet him ten minutes before homeroom on Monday so we could talk about the assembly. We walked out of his office. I used Mrs. Sutton’s phone to call Aunt Jean. We needed someone to pick us up since the box of folders was too heavy to carry all the way home. Aunt Jean said she would meet us in front of the school in five minutes, and we went outside to wait for her.
“This calls for a celebration,” Jake said. “What do you say, Doriane?”
“I don’t know,” Doriane said.
“Come on,” Jake said. “Katie’s aunt can drop us off at Round Table Pizza.”
“Okay, I guess,” she said. “You’re coming too, right, Katie?”
I looked over at Jake. I couldn’t tell if he wanted me to come or not. But it was my idea and we were supposed to be in this together. “Yeah, I’m coming,” I said.
Aunt Jean drove up a few minutes later and dropped us off at Round Table Pizza. It’s my favorite pizza place in Redwood City. Mom doesn’t like it—she says it’s the kind of pizza that only kids can like. She likes pizza with thin crust, which I hate because the bottom gets all charred and they don’t put enough cheese on top. At Round Table, they put tons of cheese on their pizza and there are about a million toppings to choose from. Plus they have video games in the back, but Jake and I don’t play those as much as we used to.
Doriane followed Jake and me straight to the table in the back where we usually sit. Doriane and I sat across from each other and Jake went to order the pizza and our drinks. He came back carrying a couple sodas and he slid onto the seat next to Doriane. I had a feeling he was going to sit next to her instead of me, but I was still kind of disappointed. I didn’t say anything, though, because I didn’t want Jake to call me a baby for not wanting to sit alone.
“Here,” Jake said, sliding a glass of Coke toward Doriane. “I got you a drink.”
“Thanks,” Doriane said. She smiled up at him.
“What about me?” I asked.
“Sorry,” Jake said. “I couldn’t carry three glasses. I ordered one for you, but you have to pick up your cup at the counter.”
So this is it, I thought. Jake likes some girl and she likes him back, so he forgets all about me. In my head I pictured myself growing smaller and smaller, until Jake couldn’t see me at all. I tried to talk, but I was too small for him to hear.
“Come on, Katie,” Jake said. “Get the soda. We need to make a toast.”
I got the cup and went to the soda dispenser. I filled it with Coke almost all the way to the top, and I turned around carefully so it wouldn’t spill. As I walked toward the table, I saw Jake put his arm around Doriane’s shoulder, just like a boyfriend would. Something inside my chest tightened. What, are you jealous? Jake had asked me the week before. What was wrong with me? It was just Jake, after all. He was my best friend; I’d never wanted him to be my boyfriend. I just didn’t want him to stop paying attention to me.
“All right,” Jake said as I sat down. “Now for the toast.”
“A toast to Mr. Gallagher?” I asked. “For saying yes?”
“No,” Jake said. “A toast to us. We’re the ones who have to do all the work.” He grinned at me, and I raised my glass. Maybe I was imagining everything. Maybe it would all be okay. Doriane and Jake raised theirs, too. “To us,” we said all together. We clicked our cups together. A little bit of soda spilled out of my glass and onto my hand, but I didn’t care.
Seven
I WOKE UP extra early on Saturday morning. Doriane’s father had said we could go to his office to make up the packets for the jog-a-thon. Even though we weren’t going to his office until later in the morning, I was way too excited about everything with the jog-a-thon to sleep in.
My parents were already awake when I woke up—Mom never sleeps past seven, and she and Dad have a weekly tennis game Saturday mornings. They go to the tennis courts at Sage Park, which is at the end of Aunt Jean’s street. It’s supposed to be a private park for the people who live on Sage Drive, but Mom and Dad use Aunt Jean’s name to be able to play on the tennis courts. I could hear them downstairs, and I figured it was a good time to tell them about the jog-a-thon, especially since I’d already told Aunt Jean, and Mom hates when Aunt Jean knows things about me first. I followed my parents’ voices down to the kitchen. But by the time I got there, I knew I wouldn’t get a chance to tell them about the jog-a-thon or anything else. Mom was already talking about two of her favorite subjects—Julie and school.
“Peter,” Mom was saying, “I met this girl at the bookstore the other day and I think she could really help Julie. She’s a student at Stanford, and she said she wants to get a
job tutoring to help her out with some of her living expenses. I just think it would be wonderful for Julie to be around someone that studious and responsible, don’t you?” Mom sounded so excited, you’d think she had just discovered gold in the kitchen cabinets. The thing is, Mom loves anything that has to do with Stanford. It’s a college really close to our house, and you have to be smart to get into it. It’s Mom’s greatest dream that Julie and I go to Stanford. If Julie’s tutor went to Stanford, Mom probably thought that would give Julie some advantage, even though I thought Julie and I were too young to worry about college. After all, we were both still in middle school.
“It would be great,” Dad told her, “but that’s if we could get Julie to agree to it, and that’s a big if. I’m not sure we can make this work. Remember how she hated being tutored the last time we tried this?”
“We can’t make this a choice for her, Peter. She’s starting high school in a couple years.” Mom continued talking as she turned away from Dad and stood on her toes to reach the cereal boxes on the shelf above the fridge. “We can’t just let things stay the way they are now. The work is only going to get harder. She’ll hate school a lot more than she’d hate being tutored.”
I knew the only way my parents could get Julie not to hate school was if they hired Madonna to be her tutor, and even then it might not work. “I don’t think Julie wants a tutor,” I said. Mom ignored me. Dad looked at me and shook his head, which meant I should be quiet.
“Do you want white toast or rye, Lisa?” Dad said.
Mom turned around to look at Dad. “You know I don’t eat white bread,” she said.
“Right,” Dad said. “I forgot.” Mom opened the fridge to get the orange juice, and Dad smiled at me. He always finds a way to change the subject when he wants Mom to calm down about something.
I got into the shower after Mom and Dad left. I used to always take baths, but I switched to taking showers in fifth grade. It makes me feel more grown-up to take a shower in the morning. Besides, everyone I know takes showers now. Well, except Julie. She still takes baths. She says she likes to “luxuriate.” All I know is she takes a really long time to get ready in the morning and the bathroom smells like it’s been flooded with perfume when Julie finally gets done luxuriating.
I decided not to make my bed because it was a weekend. Mom has a rule about us making beds. Julie and I don’t really see the point because we just have to sleep in them anyway. So Julie got Mom to make this deal that we don’t have to make them on the weekends because it’s our time off. I’m glad I’m the younger sister—Julie already has Mom and Dad broken in for things like that.
My bed may have been messy, but my desk was completely neat. I had organized all my papers the night before, and I had everything we needed. I went through it again to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything—sponsor sheet, Super Sponsor sheet, and the letter to the sponsors. I had even typed everything up so it looked more official. I pulled my English folder out of my backpack, put everything inside it so it wouldn’t bend, and then put the folder into my backpack. Doriane promised to bring a copy of the article she’d brought in for social studies, because that was going into the packets, too. I thought about calling her to remind her, but I didn’t want to be too much of a pain. Besides, she was definitely responsible. I was even getting used to the idea of her helping out with the jog-a-thon.
There was still a lot of time left before Doriane’s dad came. I would have played with Mooner, but she was still sleeping in Julie’s room and it was too risky to go in there. Julie would scream at me if I went in there and accidentally woke her up, and I definitely didn’t feel like fighting. I thought about making my bed just to keep busy, but that seemed like a stupid thing to do, and it would only take up a couple minutes anyway. It wasn’t like I was about to clean the whole house just to keep myself busy. Finally I decided to call Aunt Jean. I had told Doriane that her dad could pick me up at Aunt Jean’s house because we had to pick up all the folders anyway. Her house was only ten minutes away so I certainly didn’t need to get ready to go to her house yet, but I thought maybe I could go over there before it was time for Doriane and her dad to pick me up. I wasn’t worried about waking Aunt Jean up. She wakes up early, just like Mom and Dad do. Maybe it’s a grown-up thing. Maybe when I’m older, like around thirty, I’ll all of a sudden start waking up early every day—not just on school days or when I have a lot on my mind. I guess you get a lot more hours in the day that way to get things done. I picked up the phone and dialed Aunt Jean’s number.
Twenty minutes later I was ringing Aunt Jean’s bell—three times, just like always. I was glad to get there early so Jake wasn’t there to see.
Aunt Jean met me at the door. Her hair was wet from the shower. There were dark blue patches on the shoulders of her light blue shirt where the water had dripped down. “Come on in,” Aunt Jean said. “Ill make you a waffle.”
After I finished eating, we still had a lot of time before Doriane’s father came. Aunt Jean and I decided to do some research and try to find the hospital in Mexico that Doriane had told us about. I sat down in front of Aunt Jean’s computer and typed “Mexican Earthquake” into Google. Thousands of links popped up. “This is going to be hard to find,” I said.
But since Aunt Jean works at the library, she knows how to research and is really good at finding things. We switched places; she sat in front of the computer and I stood behind her. After a while she found an article about a makeshift hospital for kids who were orphaned. “Look at this,” Aunt Jean said.
I leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at the screen. Aunt Jean scrolled down to a bunch of pictures of the hospital. There was a photograph of the outside of the building, which didn’t look very sturdy, and another picture of a bunch of kids lined up in front of a wall. The wall behind them was papered with pictures. The caption underneath said, “Orphaned children stand alongside photographs of their missing parents.” I strained to see if Emily’s family was in any of the pictures, but then I realized I wouldn’t recognize them even if they were. There was another photograph of a girl holding up a drawing she had made. It wasn’t a very good drawing, but I could tell it was supposed to be a picture of a woman—probably her mother. Maybe the earthquake had destroyed all the photographs.
“It’s good you’re doing something about this, Katie,” Aunt Jean said. “I’m proud of you.”
I stared back at the picture of the little girl. I knew we were doing a good thing by trying to help, but I didn’t feel that proud. I sort of felt like I had done something wrong, and I felt bad about being annoyed with Mom and leaving her out of everything.
Suddenly there was honking from outside. “Wow, it’s ten thirty already,” I said. “That’s got to be Doriane’s dad.”
“You better get out there before he honks again,” Aunt Jean said. “Some of the neighbors might still be sleeping.” She walked me to the door and I picked up my backpack on my way out. “Have fun,” Aunt Jean said.
Doriane’s dad’s car was right out front. I saw Doriane and Jake in the backseat and waved. I was looking straight ahead at the car so I didn’t see my parents walking up the block until I heard my mother’s voice calling me. “Katie! Katie!” she yelled. She was so loud, louder even than Doriane’s dad’s car horn had been. I was sure everyone on the block could hear her. I thought about shouting to her to keep it down, but that would only have gotten me into trouble.
I stood by the car and watched Mom jog up Sage Drive toward me, her tennis racket banging against her hip. “Katie,” Mom said, panting a little. “What are you doing here?”
“I have a project for school, and Aunt Jean let me store some stuff here.”
“What kind of project?”
I knew I didn’t have time to start explaining. Dad came up behind Mom. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said.
“I’ve really got to go,” I said. “Everyone’s waiting for me.” I nodded toward the car. Dad waved at Doriane’s father. Mr. Leib w
aved back.
“I guess we can just ask your aunt about it,” Mom said. I knew she was angry but I didn’t say anything. I climbed into the car.
Eight
Dear Sophie,
You won’t believe everything that has happened since my last letter! I had an idea to have a jog-a-thon to help kids who were in the Mexican earthquake, and I met with the principal about it. Jake and Doriane came with me, and Mr. Gallagher—he’s our principal—said we could have the jog-a-thon at Hillside! Over the weekend Jake, Doriane, and I made up these packets with a bunch of information on the earthquake and getting sponsors. We also had the idea to call the jog-a-thon Emily’s Run, because the article about that girl Emily was the main inspiration behind the whole thing.
Today we had this big assembly at school. Jake and I got to stand up onstage with Mr. Gallagher. Doriane could have come with us, but she was too nervous. Mr. Gallagher told all the kids about the jog-a-thon. He handed out the information packets and asked people to sign up for different committees. It seems like everyone at Hillside is excited about this. I totally knew they would be! We’re going to have weekly progress meetings on Fridays. I think a lot of kids will come—practically everyone at the assembly today came up to get an information packet. Even Julie did, and she’s mad at me. I hope that maybe she’ll want to help with Emily’s Run and forgive me. I’ll keep you posted on everything!
Sincerely,
Katie
I realized that Julie would probably forgive me if I said I needed her to take me to the mall to help with the jog-a-thon, and I was right. She’s nicest to me whenever there’s something I need her help with—something that she can do better than I can. After I finished my letter to Sophie, I went down the hall and knocked on her bedroom door.
“I’m working,” Julie said, which is what she always says when she thinks that it’s Mom at the door, so Mom will go away.
“It’s me,” I said.
Sincerely Page 18