Sincerely

by Courtney Sheinmel

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I hope it’s all right that I called my friend to help. She’s very good with kids.”

  “Of course,” Mrs. Watts said. She turned to Sascha, “Did you have fun today with Katie?” she asked and Sascha nodded.

  “I did too,” I said. It was true, mostly. I had fun the whole time until I said all that stuff about Jake to Doriane. I wondered if it was possible for Doriane to just forget it had happened. I tried to imagine things just going back to normal, like I hadn’t said anything at all.

  Mrs. Watts drove me home and paid me. I thought maybe I would buy something for Julie, and I ran upstairs to tell her I was home.

  I knocked on Julie’s door. “Yeah,” she said.

  “It’s me,” I told her.

  “Come in,” Julie said.

  I walked into the room. Julie was stretched out on her bed. It didn’t look like she was studying at all. “How was your tutor?” I asked carefully.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Julie said.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Was she awful?”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Julie said.

  “Sorry,” I said again.

  “How was Sascha?” Julie asked.

  I decided to leave out the bad parts. “She was fine,” I told her. “Mrs. Watts said to wish you good luck on your test and she’ll call you later in the week.”

  “I wish there would be an earthquake so I don’t have to take this test on Tuesday,” Julie said.

  “Don’t say that,” I said.

  “I was just kidding,” Julie said.

  “It’s not funny,” I said seriously.

  “Okay,” Julie said. “I won’t say it again.”

  Eleven

  THE NEXT FRIDAY we had our weekly lunch meeting about Emily’s Run. Mr. Gallagher had said we were all allowed to bring our lunches into the auditorium, even though there are signs up that say no food or drink and on ordinary days you can get in trouble just for chewing a piece of gum in there.

  I had told Jake that I thought we should bring something with us to thank everyone for coming, and we’d gone to Aunt Jean’s to make chocolate chip cookies. I’d said he could invite Doriane if he wanted. I felt really bad about everything I had told her. But Jake had shrugged his shoulders and said he thought Doriane was busy.

  “You made cookies?” Doriane asked when she saw us.

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to ignore the feeling in my stomach. “It was a last-minute thing.” I shifted my weight because it was hard to balance the tray of cookies and my lunch at the same time. Doriane offered to carry my lunch for me.

  “It’s okay,” I told her. “I can manage.”

  “I don’t mind helping,” Doriane said.

  “Thanks,” I said. I handed her my lunch bag. My stomach did another flip-flop and I thought I would drop the tray of cookies anyway. I gripped the sides of the tray tighter and walked into the auditorium.

  “What’s this?” Mr. Gallagher said when he saw.

  “Cookies,” Jake said from behind me.

  “We wanted to bring something for everyone,” I explained.

  “As long as it’s not contraband,” Mr. Gallagher said. He peered down at me and looked stern.

  “Of course not,” I said quickly. Mr. Gallagher smiled, and I hoped that meant he had been kidding.

  There were more than fifty kids at the meeting, including a bunch of kids that Jake and I were friends with, like Tesa and Sara and all the kids Jake knew from the track team. We had moved the chairs around so we were more or less in one big circle instead of all facing the stage. I put the cookies on a chair right in the center so people could take them whenever they wanted. Doriane had put my lunch on the seat next to her, like she was saving the seat for me, so I picked it up and sat down. Jake sat in the empty seat next to me—not next to Doriane.

  Mr. Gallagher cleared his throat loudly to get everyone’s attention. My stomach still felt funny so I decided just to concentrate on Mr. Gallagher and not think about Doriane at all.

  Things were definitely falling into place. The high school had agreed to give us their track. Some of the high school students had volunteered to work at the jog-a-thon. All the runners were going to wear cards around their necks, and each time they ran around the track, one of the high school volunteers would punch a hole in the card to keep track of how many laps they’d run. The more laps they ran, the more money they raised.

  Mr. Gallagher asked for a report on the halftime show. “Well, I haven’t heard back from either of the bands I sent letters to,” Jake told him.

  “What bands are those, Jake?” Mr. Gallagher asked.

  “Oh, two great bands,” Jake said. “You might not have heard of them, but kids love their music. One is called Dozer. The other one is Razor’s Edge. I wrote them all about Emily’s Run. I think we should hear back soon.”

  “Cool,” I heard someone say from the other side of the circle.

  “I was thinking more about the high school band,” Mr. Gallagher said. “I know the Hillside band and chorus groups didn’t want to perform because they wanted to participate in the jog-a-thon, but a couple of our eighth-grade band members were going to contact some of the ninth graders who are now in the Redwood City High School band to see if they can step in. Has anyone checked that out?”

  “But, Mr. Gallagher,” Jake interrupted, “you said it would be okay if I tried to get a famous band.”

  “Yes, Jake,” Mr. Gallagher said, “and I think your effort was great, but we also discussed that it would be a long shot. Since we haven’t heard back from your bands, can someone report on the status of the high school band?” A couple of eighth graders raised their hands. I didn’t know their names until Mr. Gallagher said, “All right, Eric and Bill, let’s hear it.”

  “Okay, so we spoke to Matt Hogan, who was in the Hillside band last year and now he’s in the high school band. Matt talked to his band members about the jog-a-thon, and they’re totally in. They just need to know when and how long we want them to perform for.”

  Another girl raised her hand. “Yes, Ella?” Mr. Gallagher said. I thought it was amazing that Mr. Gallagher knew everyone’s name.

  “My sister’s a cheerleader at the high school,” Ella said. “I told her about Emily’s Run, and she said the cheerleaders would be happy to perform too.”

  “This is all wonderful,” Mr. Gallagher said. “I appreciate all your hard work. But now we have to get down to the most important part. I want to hear how the sponsorships are coming. Can I see a show of hands first from everyone who has gotten sponsors so far?” Almost everyone raised their hands.

  “Good job,” Mr. Gallagher said. “Now how many of you have gotten Super Sponsors?” This time only about fifteen kids raised their hands. “All right. That’s great,” Mr. Gallagher said. He bent toward the notepad in his lap. “I want to make a list of the Super Sponsors we have so far. That way we can get to work on the signage and also keep track of what companies have already signed up to do this so we don’t duplicate our efforts. I’ll circulate the list at the end of the day. So let’s just go around the room. Katie, do you want to go first?”

  I lowered my hand and listed the Super Sponsors we’d gotten so far—there were the two stores Julie had taken us to, Dad’s company, and Doriane’s father’s company. Aunt Jean had even said she would be a Super Sponsor. “That’s it so far,” I said after I was done listing them for Mr. Gallagher. “But I’m sure Jake, Doriane, and I will get more.” Jake hadn’t even asked his parents yet, but he said he thought that each of their companies would be Super Sponsors. Aunt Jean was going to ask her husband’s old company, and Julie said we could take another trip to the mall.

  “Thanks, Katie,” Mr. Gallagher said. I sat back while the other kids listed the Super Sponsors they’d gotten and Mr. Gallagher wrote it all down. I watched Mr. Gallagher’s list get longer and longer. It wasn’t just my idea anymore—the jog-a-thon was much more than
just me. After we’d gone around the whole circle, Mr. Gallagher said we should take a few moments to think about other possible Super Sponsors to target in the next week so we could have more to add to Mr. Gallagher’s list by the next meeting. I noticed that Jake wasn’t writing anything down. Of course it wasn’t like he was going to forget that he still had to ask his parents. But just in case, I wrote “Mr. and Mrs. O” on my pad, and decided I’d remind Jake later.

  After a couple minutes we were all done with our lists. Mr. Gallagher told us to keep thinking about other potential Super Sponsors and to ask for his help if we needed it. “Obviously, we still have work to do, but this is a very good list so far,” Mr. Gallagher said, holding up the list he had made of confirmed Super Sponsors. “So those of you on the track team who are here, I hope you are all practicing your long-distance running.” I heard some kids laugh and looked across the circle to where some of Jake’s teammates were sitting. “I do want to thank the track team,” Mr. Gallagher said. “You’re shouldering an important responsibility, and we’re going to raise a lot more money because of you.”

  “No problem,” Morgan called. I looked over at Jake. He loved pointing out to Doriane and me how important the track team was going to be, and I was sure he was thinking about all the money the track team (and he especially) would bring in. But Jake was looking at his lap.

  Mr. Gallagher started talking about individual sponsors again. “This is the most important part, everybody,” he said. “The individual sponsors are the bread and butter of this event. Please keep talking to your families about it. And for your friends who could not make it to this meeting, please fill them in. We have only five weeks left.” I kept looking at Jake, waiting for him to look up from his lap. But he didn’t. He shifted his weight in his seat and looked bored.

  Our lunch period was almost over, and Mr. Gallagher wrapped the meeting up. He thanked everyone for coming and told us to have a good weekend.

  There was a lot of noise at once as everyone stood up. Julie started to walk toward us, but I knew she was coming to talk to Mr. Gallagher and not me. He makes her check in with him every week to make sure all of her classes are okay. I would hate to have to meet with Mr. Gallagher by myself like that. Jake pushed back his chair as he stood, and it made an awful screeching sound when it moved against the floor. I thought we should probably stick around for a few minutes in case Mr. Gallagher wanted to talk to us, but Jake moved quickly toward the door. Doriane and I picked up our lunch bags and followed after him.

  “Hey, Jake, wait up!” I called.

  Jake turned on his heel to face us. “Can you believe Gallagher?” he said.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “He was just a complete jerk. I can’t believe you didn’t notice,” he said. He looked at me like I was the dumbest person in the world. I hate when he looks at me like that. “You’ve turned into a complete idiot now that you’re obsessed with making Gallagher like you. It’s like you’re a different person,” he said.

  “I didn’t notice either,” Doriane said. I nodded at Doriane, a silent thank you. Jake turned and started walking away from us again.

  “Jake, come on,” I said.

  “You guys didn’t even say anything when he just brushed me off like that,” Jake said. “You could have at least said we should wait to hear back from the bands. Some friends you turned out to be.”

  “Aw, Jake,” I said. “Now you’re just being a baby.”

  Jake turned again. “What did you just call me?” I sucked in my breath. Jake looked back and forth from Doriane to me. “You two don’t need me anyway,” he said. He sounded like a baby again, but I didn’t say it. “Forget it. Forget this whole stupid thing.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “I quit,” he said.

  “You quit Emily’s Run?” Doriane asked.

  “You guessed it,” Jake said.

  “You can’t be serious!” I said. “I can’t believe you would do this to Emily.”

  “Oh, don’t be stupid,” Jake said. “We don’t even know Emily.”

  There he was calling me stupid again. If I hadn’t called him a baby, maybe he wouldn’t have done that. He certainly wouldn’t have quit the jog-a-thon. This whole thing was supposed to be something we could do together, and now his back was to me, his shoulders were hunched, and he was striding down the hall. Doriane and I just stood there and watched him walk away. He walked quickly and didn’t turn around to look at us.

  “This is all my fault,” Doriane said. She sounded like she was going to cry.

  “No,” I said. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have called him a baby.”

  “You don’t understand,” Doriane said. She sniffled, and I knew she was trying as hard as she could not to cry. “He kept asking me about meeting up this weekend. I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t want him to know that you’d told me anything, so I just kept making up excuses not to see him. But he kept on asking me, pretending that he really wanted to see me. It’s not like I can tell him I’m busy every day for the rest of my life. So I told him I knew about Lexi. I said I saw him talking to her in the cafeteria.”

  Suddenly everything around me felt so big. I remembered how small Doriane had looked leaving the Wattses’ house. That’s exactly how I felt just then. “What did he say?” I asked.

  “He said he didn’t know what I was talking about,” Doriane said. “But I saw him. I can’t believe he would just lie to my face like that and keep trying to use me.” Now she was really crying.

  “Listen, it’s okay,” I said. “It’s not your fault—you know that, don’t you?” I said. Just then the weirdest thing popped into my head. In first grade we had to come up with adjectives for ourselves using the letters in our names. I made the E in Katie stand for “energetic.” Now I thought the E should stand for “evil.” But Doriane seemed to like me and she even seemed to believe me.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Do you think maybe we could do something after school?”

  “All right,” I said.

  “I could meet you at your locker after last period,” she offered, and I nodded.

  Doriane was waiting for me at my locker at the end of the day. I started to walk more slowly. I didn’t want to be around her just then. I didn’t want to be around anyone. I just wanted to be home. “Hey, Katie,” Doriane called out when she saw me.

  “Hey, Doriane,” I said.

  I opened my locker and tried to remember what books I would need to take home with me for the weekend. It was hard to concentrate on homework when I had so much to think about.

  “So, do you want to go back to Round Table?” Doriane asked. “I bet I could get my dad to drive us. He usually gets home early on Fridays.”

  I closed my locker and looked up at her. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I said we could do something, but I think I’m just going to go home.”

  “You’re mad at me,” Doriane said.

  “No, I’m not,” I told her. “I’m just in a bad mood.”

  “I’m sorry,” Doriane said.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “But I’m not going to be any fun. Trust me—you won’t even want to be around me.”

  “I don’t mind,” Doriane said.

  Why was she making this so hard? “Listen, Doriane,” I said, “no offense, but I really want to be alone.”

  “Okay,” Doriane said softly. I knew I had said the wrong thing again and hurt her feelings. I didn’t mean to sound angry, but everything I said came out wrong. Doriane turned to walk down the hall. Her shoulders slumped underneath her backpack.

  “I’ll call you later, okay?” I said. She turned around and shrugged, and then turned to walk the rest of the way down the hall. I turned back to my locker and packed up my backpack. My bag was heavy and I had to walk all the way back up the hill to get home. I walked slowly, so it took me a while to get there.

  Twelve

  JULIE WAS ALREADY home w
hen I got there. She used to always hang out with Val on Fridays, but Mom had decided that Julie should come home every Friday right after school. She thought Julie should do all her weekend homework before she went out with her friends or went shopping. I trudged upstairs and went straight to my room. “Dear Sophie,” I wrote. “Everything is so messed up.” I told her how mad Jake had gotten about Mr. Gallagher and how he’d quit the jog-a-thon, but I left out the part about Lexi Moss. Then I signed my name, “Sincerely, Katie,” just like always. As I read over my letter, it occurred to me that I was one of the least sincere people I knew. I was always making things up in my head, and now I’d made them up out loud to Doriane, and look where it had gotten me. I put the letter into an envelope and put it into my backpack. Then I threw my backpack onto the floor. It landed against the wall with a thud. I liked the sound it made—heavy and angry, just the way I felt.

  “Katie?” Julie called. She must have heard my bag when it slammed against the wall between our rooms. I ignored her and threw myself onto my bed.

  “Hey, Katie,” I heard Julie call again from the other room. “Come here!”

  I didn’t feel like going to see Julie. I didn’t feel like seeing anyone. But I also didn’t feel like shouting all of that to her. I heaved myself off of my bed and walked into Julie’s room. “What do you want?” I said.

  “Nothing,” Julie said. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Yeah, right,” she said.

  “Jake’s quitting the jog-a-thon,” I told her.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said.

  “Did you guys have a big fight?”

  I didn’t answer her. I leaned back against the wall and slid to the ground. “This isn’t how it was supposed to happen,” I said. “It just sucks. Now everything is ruined.”

  “The jog-a-thon won’t be ruined,” Julie said. “There was a ton of people at that meeting today. They’ll pick up Jake’s slack.”