Finally Read online

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure.” I’m not sure about a lot of things anymore, but I don’t say that.

  “Your dad said you were getting contacts today. Did you get them?”

  I shift in my chair. “Not exactly.”

  “Why not?”

  I pause. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “If you quit the movie, then I’m quitting. It’s no fun without you.”

  “You can’t quit.”

  “Then you have to be there tomorrow.”

  I sigh. “Maybe.”

  “Great!” she squeals. “See you bright and early!”

  I rest my forehead on my desk as dramatically as I can, only to lift it right back up because the pressure hurts my eye. Might as well check my e-mail. The newest one is from Dad, of all people. I don’t think he’s ever e-mailed me before. He sent it only two minutes ago. I click to open it.

  Hi, Honey. I know you’re feeling blue, but I just wanted to share an old saying with you: In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. Or in your case, queen. Your mom and I love you very much and are very proud of you. Do you want to come down for dinner? Chocolate chip pancakes … Love always, Dad.

  Imagine! Bribing me with chocolate chip pancakes, as though it were that easy to cheer me up! And I’m not sure what they have to be proud of. I mess everything up.

  Although … eating chocolate chip pancakes is certainly better than not eating chocolate chip pancakes. I push back my desk chair. I guess it is that easy!

  Mom drops me off at school while the sun is only barely peeking over the horizon. She agrees to come back to pick me up after dropping Sawyer at preschool. We should be done shooting by then. Stepping very carefully, I make my way into the school and down the hall to the room number Brenda had left in her message. The hall outside is set up with the lights, too, which means a hallway scene as well as a classroom scene. Keeping my head down, I step around the equipment in the hall, take a deep breath, and enter the classroom. Of course the first person to notice me is the director.

  “What do you think we’re shooting here, Pirates of the Caribbean? Do you see Johnny Depp anywhere?”

  I lower my eyes and shake my head.

  “Then what’s with the patch?”

  The few other extras who have arrived so far stop what they’re doing and listen. I mutter something about a contact lens accident.

  “This I’ve got to see!” a voice from behind me says. I turn to face Jake, silently cursing Annabelle for making me come this morning. She’s not even here yet to rescue me.

  He takes one look at my face and bursts out laughing. He literally holds his stomach and bends forward. He’s laughing that hard.

  “Okay, okay,” I say, crossing my arms. “It’s not THAT funny!”

  “Yes,” he gasps. “It is!”

  “You’re sitting this one out,” the director barks.

  “Wait,” Brenda says, joining us. “I have an idea.”

  She leads the director away by the elbow, while Jake, bent over, continues to shake with laughter. This is how Annabelle finds us when she finally walks in.

  “It’s never boring being your best friend,” she says. “Just when I think I’ve seen it all, you outdo yourself.”

  Brenda comes back and asks, “Would you be able to take the patch off and walk a few feet?”

  Unsure where this is going, I say, “I guess so.”

  Ten minutes later, the camera rolling, we film our hall scene. The camera is focused on me (known in the scene as “girl with phone”) as I walk down the crowded hallway, pretending to text on my phone. The view is from my right side, so you can’t see that my left eye is red and leaky. Suddenly Jake flings open his locker, and since my character is not looking where she’s going, it hits me right in the face. (In reality, he’s supposed to stop the locker right before it hits me, but it kind of hits me anyway.) “Are you all right?” he asks in a voice skilled at squeezing a lot of emotion out of a few words. He bends over me in concern as I cover my eye with my hands as though it hadn’t already been injured. The director yells, “Cut!” and they move the cameras to the other side. After a few lighting adjustments, the PA hands me my patch, and the director yells, “Action!” I walk down the hallway again, this time with the patch over my eye. As I pass Jake at his locker, he exclaims, “There goes the latest victim of the worst epidemic in our schools today — Walking While Texting!”

  The crew and the other extras all clap when we’re done, and I know without looking that my face is bright red. The best part was how Madison had to stand on the side while we filmed it. The second-best part was getting paid fifty dollars. Fifty dollars! That’s more money than I’ve ever gotten at one time in my entire life.

  All the same, I still leave with Mom afterward. Being a “cautionary tale” for the movie was one thing, but I have no need to hear “Ahoy, matey!” and “Yo-ho-ho, shiver me timbers” from the kids at school all day. I could get that at home.

  Which, of course, I do.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Now that I’m allowed to pick out my own clothes and have fifty dollars from my big movie scene burning a hole in my pocket, Mom agrees to take me shopping after school on Friday. I suggest one of the small shops in the center of town. I’m taking a break from the mall. I’m afraid Bunny is sitting in his cage at the pet store, plotting his revenge.

  Mom is very well behaved, and sits patiently in the dressing room while I try on a zillion outfits, never admitting if she likes them or not. But since I’ve known her for twelve years, it’s pretty easy to tell by the eye rolls, tight mouth, raised brows, imperceptible nods, or slight upturn of lips.

  The day of the party is sunny and warm, just like I knew it would be when I imagined it. “You sure it looks okay?” I ask Mom for the tenth time, turning from side to side in front of her full-length mirror.

  “Yes!” she replies, also for the tenth time. I had finally left the store with a brown and white sundress and brown sandals, but now that it’s time to actually wear the outfit, I wonder if it was the right choice. Regular brown Band-Aids cover my still-pretty-scabby legs, and the patch was retired a few days ago, but I still feel like I’m not ready. And Annabelle’s mom is coming to pick me up any minute, which isn’t helping my anxiety level.

  “Here,” Mom says, handing me a tube of pink lip gloss. “This only contains artificial chemicals. None of that good, all-natural stuff like trees or berries.”

  “Cool, thanks!” I say, rolling it on.

  “And one more thing.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small silk pouch. She opens the drawstring and Grandma’s earrings spill out onto her palm.

  “But I can’t wear those,” I say, confused.

  “Yes, you can.” To my surprise, she leans over and clips one on each ear. They pinch a tiny bit, especially on the previously pierced ear, but I’ll get used to it. I can’t believe she had them made into clip-ons without telling me. “Check them out,” she says, facing me toward the mirror.

  “Wow. I look good!” I still look twelve, but now I look more like what I picture in my head a twelve-year-old should look like. Or maybe I look extra-good because nothing is currently swollen, bleeding, leaking pus, or covered with a patch.

  “You have your cell?” she asks, back to business.

  “Check.”

  “And extra money?”

  “Check.”

  “And your house key in case we’re not home when you get back?”

  “Check.”

  “And Natalie’s gift?”

  “Yup.” It had taken me a while to figure out what to get her. But then I found that book I had bought at the mall the day of the unfortunate incident with the makeup, and remembered that Natalie had done a book report in fourth grade on the first book in the series and had loved it, too. So I wrapped up my copy of the sequel and added a really cool flashlight that I bought at the drugstore, because it’s really a flashlight-under-the-covers type of read.
/>
  Mom stands back to admire me and nods, satisfied. “Well, then, I guess you’re all set for your first boy-girl party.”

  “It’s the last thing on my list,” I inform her. “Well, except for the upside-down roller coaster. But that’s on the Small Things list.”

  “Small, but still very important and worthwhile,” Mom says, winking.

  So she HAS been reading my chart!

  “You know,” she says, sitting down on her bed, “the Willow Falls carnival is in town for a few more days. I promised Sawyer cotton candy, and at this point, if he says he’ll eat anything other than pizza and the occasional hot pretzel, I’m inclined to let him. We could go after dinner, if you like. You should be home from the party by then.”

  “That would be great! Thanks.” I have to admit, Mom has really been supportive of my whole list thing, even though she tried to fight it in the beginning.

  She pops up off the bed. “Well, I hope this party is everything you hope it will be, and more.”

  The car honking in the driveway spares me from having to think too deeply about that.

  Natalie lives on the other side of town in this strange kind of neighborhood. One half of the street has these small or medium-sized houses like the one where Mom took Sawyer for his playdate a few weeks ago. Then across the street are these new, huge houses with big lawns and swimming pools. Natalie’s house is one of the new, huge ones. I’ve been there a few times over the years, mostly when we were younger and Natalie’s and Annabelle’s families used to do more things together. They have a heart-shaped pool with its own pool house next to it, where you can get changed and stuff. The pool house is almost as big as some of the houses down the street!

  Natalie’s mom hugs us hello at the front door and takes our gifts. She tells us the party is in the backyard, which we could already tell since the whole back of the house is glass and we can see right through it. I follow Annabelle through the house and out the back door.

  Balloons are strung on the backs of plastic chairs, and streamers hang suspended in the trees. Her dad and uncle are sizzling burgers on a huge barbecue grill, and her older brother and his friends are practicing with their band in the corner of the yard. The pool is crystal clear, with lights in it that keep changing the color of the water from blue to red to green and back again.

  Out of the corner of my mouth, I ask Annabelle if we were supposed to bring bathing suits. She shakes her head. This is good news, because wearing my bathing suit in front of my classmates is not something I’m looking forward to doing anytime soon.

  We stand on the grass off to the side of the main action, which is where Annabelle told Sari in a text that we would meet her. The grass tickles my ankles in a way that’s both pleasant and really annoying.

  I’m not sure what to do with my hands, so I keep playing with the strap of the little pocketbook Mom lent me.

  “I love your earrings!” Sari gushes as she runs up to us. “You guys look great!” She’s saying it to both of us, but is looking at me. Annabelle always looks great, so it sort of goes without saying in her case.

  “Thanks,” I reply. I won’t tell her how many hours it took to find the dress. Sari’s wearing a miniskirt and two tanks layered on top of each other, and I’m sure she picked it out of her closet in two seconds. Annabelle’s wearing the same outfit she lent me for the dance scene. But on her the skirt is the right length.

  People keep streaming in, and soon the backyard is full of kids. I recognize all of them from school, except a few of Natalie’s friends from camp. They cling together; laughing about the time they all snuck out of the bunk one night and got poison ivy. This doesn’t sound very funny to me, but I’ve never been to camp so maybe it is. Natalie huddles with the gymnastics crowd on lawn chairs by the pool, and all the boys push and shove one another in that way that boys do when they don’t know what else to do.

  Sari and Annabelle have launched into a conversation about whether you’re supposed to match your nail polish to your clothes or your skin tone, and I know from years of experience that the conversation will move from nails to hair, makeup, and the hair and makeup of those around us. Deciding that the spiky grass has progressed from half annoying to fully annoying, I step a few feet away and sit down on one of the plastic folding chairs set up on the lawn. I curl my legs underneath me (careful not to scrape against the still tender areas), and think about the fact that after tonight, I’ll have crossed everything off my list. It’s definitely been the craziest few weeks of my entire life. I haven’t even had a chance to digest it all and to sort out how I feel about everything.

  I look out over the party scene, thinking how if it were being filmed for the movie, it would look exactly like this. Groups of friends keeping close together, balloons swaying in the breeze, glasses of soda and juice being passed around. There’s also a ripple of excitement underneath, because I know everyone’s waiting for Natalie’s parents to go inside. But behind all that, I can see little things, like that Boy Rory keeps checking his watch, or that one of Natalie’s camp friends is hanging a half-step back from the group and her smile seems forced.

  Annabelle glances back over at me and fake-talks, “Everything okay?”

  I nod, and she turns back to her conversation. I don’t mind sitting here alone. It feels like how it used to, back when I didn’t have some sort of disfigurement that made everyone notice me. Then suddenly I’m not alone. Amanda Ellerby has sat down in the chair next to me.

  She tucks her feet under her like mine are, and balances a cup of bright orange soda on her leg. “So … what was it like getting hit in the head with a locker by Jake Harrison?”

  I laugh. “Pretty much how you’d expect.”

  “I wish filming wasn’t ending next week.”

  “Me too.”

  Amanda lifts her cup and takes a long drink. I think I’m supposed to keep the conversation going, but I’m not sure how. I’m gearing up to ask a question about her drum playing, when she blurts out, “Leo and I are having our birthday party two weeks from Saturday. Can you come?”

  After my initial surprise, I say, “Sure, that sounds great.”

  “Cool. It’s going to be really small. Wear gardening clothes.”

  “Gardening clothes?”

  She nods. “We’re going to be planting seeds out by where old Apple Grove used to be.”

  “That’s, um, different.”

  “Yeah, we thought it would be fun to try to grow apple trees again in Willow Falls.”

  “And Leo’s okay without having a hypnotist and a giant iguana?” Even though I hadn’t gone to his party last year (the whole boy-girl thing), everyone knew about it.

  Amanda laughs. “He’s handling the disappointment pretty well.”

  The band starts playing and some of the girls get up to dance. I watch the crowd; Amanda sips her drink. She must be really thirsty. “So … whatcha looking at?” she asks casually. Almost too casually. I’m suddenly on the alert.

  “Is there something I should be looking at?”

  “I don’t know. That’s sort of your thing, ya know?”

  This girl isn’t making much sense. “What’s my thing?”

  “You know, how you see things.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean. I was just looking at everyone.” I gesture at the crowd.

  She shakes her head. “No. Other people look. You see. Looking isn’t the same as seeing.” And with that completely bizarre statement, she gets up and leaves. My mouth falls open a little at the abruptness of it all.

  “What was that all about?” Annabelle asks, sitting in the now-empty chair.

  I shake my head. “It’s weird. It’s like Amanda and Leo know something about me that I don’t even know.”

  We watch as Amanda joins Leo and some of his guy friends on line for burgers. “Like what?” Annabelle asks.

  “I’m not sure. But they’ve been saying strange things to me ever since I bought lunch that first day in the cafeteria.”
<
br />   She shrugs. “Why don’t you ask them?”

  “I don’t think it would do any good.”

  “Someday we’ve gotta find out what happened with them last year.” She takes my arm and tugs. “But right now I’m really hungry so let’s get some food before it’s all gone.” While we wait on the long line, Annabelle says something about how Natalie’s parents are going to leave right after they finish feeding us, and how after that everyone’s going into the pool house. I’m only half listening though, because Amanda’s words are still circling around my mind. They seem almost familiar, somehow, like I’ve heard them — or something like them — before. Or maybe I’m just imagining things. After the crazy events of the last few weeks, anything’s possible.

  “Rory, are you listening to me?” Annabelle asks, hands on her hips.

  “What? Yes, I’m listening. Parents. Food. Pool house.

  Got it.”

  “I asked you who you hope you get!”

  I do my best to focus. “Who do I hope I get for what?” Why is no one making sense today?

  We’re almost at the front of the line now. Keeping one eye on Natalie’s dad, Annabelle leans over and whispers, “For the game!”

  “What game?”

  Burgers and chips are now being dropped on our plates, and sodas pressed into our hands. Annabelle doesn’t answer until we’re out of earshot of any adults. “The kissing games in the pool house!”

  My heart quickens. Kissing games? How did I miss that? “I … I don’t know.” Usually when faced with doing something new, I’d always assumed I wasn’t allowed to do it, due to the whole strictest-parents-in-the-world thing. My hand automatically moves toward my cell phone, but I pull it back. I don’t need to ask anyone. I’m allowed to be at boy-girl parties, so that means I’m allowed to do what everyone else is doing.

  We join Sari at a table full of kids, all scarfing down their food as fast as they can. Every few seconds someone checks the movements of the adults out of the corners of their eyes. Cupcakes are handed out, and Natalie blows out her candle so fast I almost didn’t get to make a wish on it. Almost.