Chapter Eighteen
Day 5
I set my alarm for 4:00 a.m. on Thursday morning.
The door to the garden isn’t propped open tonight, so I twist the deadbolt on my own, then head outside.
I take a seat and pull out my dot diary while I wait. I’ve tried to keep it as updated as possible, but it’s become more of a record of where I’ve visited than a schedule of future events.
I check my phone.
4:06 a.m.
Suddenly, my world tilts. What if Andy and Isa don’t come? What if they picked a different place to hang out and didn’t tell me?
I set my diary down and wrap my arms around myself. I rock, but my thoughts still spiral.
On day one, I messed up la primera pista. Then yesterday didn’t go as planned. Also my fault. Maybe my teammates are annoyed we didn’t finish la segunda pista and decided not to show up.
I rock faster, but the worry doesn’t go away.
A flash of movement slows me. My eyes dart to the back door. Isa appears, then Andy.
“You beat us today,” Isa whispers.
I move my diary to my lap so Isa can sit beside me. Andy claims the bench across from us.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” I admit.
Isa blows air between their lips in a way that Laurel calls a raspberry. “We would’ve told you at dinner if we weren’t going to come.”
“Or texted,” Andy chimes in.
Their words melt away some of my tension.
“I did some research after dinner last night,” I say. It was when Laurel and I were supposed to catch up, but she was one room over with Sophie-Anne and Madison, painting their nails. She invited me to join, but just the thought of sharp nail polish smell was enough to say no. “There’s a big mosaic on La Rambla that has all the colors on the pista. It’s called Pla de l’Os.”
Isa repeats the words as slowly as I spoke them. “That doesn’t sound like Spanish.”
“It’s not, I don’t think.” I shake my head. “Remember Señor L’s lecture yesterday? When he said this whole region is called Catalunya?”
Isa and Andy nod.
“I looked up more about it, and lots of people here speak a language called Catalan.”
Catalan might actually be what Meritxell and her family are speaking whenever their accents don’t sound like Spanish to me.
“That’s really cool,” Andy says. “So that mosaic should be the first place we visit after breakfast.”
Isa turns to me. “Want to add it to your bullet journal?”
My cheeks flush before I can look down.
“Sorry, was I not supposed to know about it?” Isa asks. “I just noticed you had it in the airport and a few other places.”
“It’s okay.” I shake my head. “It wasn’t a secret.”
I open my diary and get to work as Isa pops in an earbud. Across from us, Andy scrolls through notifications on his phone, but I barely notice. There are a lot of things I need to update. Canceled events. Afternoon instead of morning field trips and lectures. I haven’t even written any daily recaps.
“Okay, so, Isa…” I don’t look up when Andy speaks next. “I talked to him. Again, I mean. We already talked once when I asked about subway directions, obviously.”
I hunch closer to my diary, trying to focus, but I can’t help listening as Isa continues.
“And? Come on, the suspense is killing me.”
“Well… we just talked about La Rambla. Basic stuff since my Spanish isn’t that great, you know? But when I told him we didn’t get a chance to visit the boquería, he said there’s one near the hotel. It’s smaller, but we could totally get lunch there sometime.”
“I hope you invited him to come,” Isa says.
I turn to an empty page but don’t write anything.
“I forgot.” I steal a glance at Andy, who’s wringing his hands in his lap. “Okay, I actually wussed out. Because there’s no way Xavi likes me. Not like that.”
Suddenly, all I can see is Meritxell. In the dining room. The hall. Every smile.
“So what?” Isa says. “You’re still allowed to have a crush.”
I drop my pen, and it rolls toward Andy.
“Sorry,” I say automatically. It feels like I’m invading a private conversation.
“It’s fine.” Andy sighs. “Gibs keeps saying I should tell more classmates, or at least the guys on our basketball team. He says no one’ll care, but I’m not sure yet.… It’s just, y’all three are the only ones who know, and that already feels like a lot.”
When neither of them says anything else, I take a breath. “So, you think other boys are cute instead of girls?”
“Yeah.” Andy’s voice is quiet. “Like, something’s always felt off when I went to dances with girls, so I think I’ve known for a while, but it still feels kind of new to really know, you know? That’s why I’m not with Madison anymore.”
He hands me back my pen. “But since I didn’t explain why I broke up with her, she’s pretty mad at me.”
“Oh, is that why she keeps glaring across the dining room?” Isa asks. “I thought she just really hated basketball players.”
Andy laughs, but it sputters out fast. “Please don’t say anything yet, okay? At least until I figure out how to tell everyone?”
“My lips are sealed.” Isa mimes a zipper across their mouth.
They both look at me.
Now might be a good time to share that I think Meritxell is cute the same way Andy likes Xavi. But I still remember how Laurel’s friends reacted the first night at dinner.
“I won’t say anything, either,” I tell him.
That seems to be enough for both of them. I return to my dot diary, while Andy scrolls on his phone and Isa puts their second earbud in. We sit in silence until it’s time to head back in. The quiet feels like a soft blanket wrapped around me. Perfect and comfortable.
My alarm goes off for the second time today. I stretch, then twist toward Laurel.
Her bed’s empty.
I blink the rest of my grogginess away, wondering if she’s in the bathroom. But the light’s not on. No sounds come from Sophie-Anne and Madison’s room, either.
That’s when I see the note on my bedside table.
El(len),
Woke up early. Meet you in the dining room!
xo,
(Laur)el
My stomach twists. Laurel left without me.
I get dressed fast and head downstairs to the dining room.
But they’re not in our usual spot. Not Laurel. Not Sophie-Anne or Madison. No sign of Meritxell and Xavi, either.
Even Cody’s sitting somewhere else, next to Jake and his team. Cody catches my eye, then lifts his shoulders in a small shrug.
“Ellen!” I whirl around, expecting Laurel. But it’s Isa who pats the seat next to them.
I grab my breakfast, then head over to my team.
Two teammates, three plates.
“Where’s Andy?” I ask.
“Upstairs,” says Gibs. “I forgot my meds so he went back for them.”
Isa dips their knife into a jar of tomato jam, spreading it onto a piece of baguette. Their plate matches mine: no meat. “Maybe he’s hoping to run into someone on the way back down.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Gibs glances from Isa over to me.
“Ellen knows,” Isa says. “Andy told her in the garden this morning.”
“Oh, cool. Except for the morning part.” Gibs spears a piece of jamón with his fork. “I don’t know how y’all aren’t constant zombies, up that early. I’d sleep in later if Andy would let me.”
My eyes follow Gibs’s fork to his mouth. “What are the meds for? Or wait, is it rude to ask?”
“It’s whatever.” He shrugs. “They’re supposed to help me concentrate or something.”
“That’s cool,” Isa says. “I mean, at least you’ve got something that helps.”
“I guess.” Gibs points his fork at me, twirling it slowly. “Do you take medication for your… you know.”
“Yeah.”
“No. It’s just how my brain developed. You can’t take medication to change it.”
Plus, I like who I am, even if it makes me a little different from everyone else.
Andy enters, then makes his way toward us.
“You should keep these in your backpack.” He tosses a small bottle to Gibs. “Hey, Ellen.”
“Hi,” I say back.
“Dude,” Gibs says. “I thought they were in my backpack.”
As he and Andy debate where his meds were or weren’t, I stare at the other table, where I used to sit with Laurel. The boys are talking about the Pla de l’Os mosaic when I notice Mrs. West isn’t with Abba and the other adults.
“So, you’re still on the second clue, then?” Emmaline’s silvery ring flashes as she turns toward Gibs. “We already figured it out. I bet we’ll be done with clue three by tonight.”
“Cool for you.” Gibs shoves a chunk of bread into his mouth.
“I just meant, if your team finishes the clues soon, maybe we can hang out.” The entire time Emmaline talks, her eyes stay on Gibs.
“Uh-huh.” Gibs flicks a cube of cheese across his plate as the tips of his ears flush pink. “Well, we’re not done yet, so…”
Isa and Andy look like they’re trying not to laugh, lips quivering. I must’ve missed the joke.
Before I can ask, Señor L clears his throat and stands. “How’s everyone liking the scavenger hunt so far? Having fun, I hope?”
The room gets a little quieter, but no one volunteers to answer.
“Right, well.” He waits a beat. “Just a few housekeeping items.”
I study his shirt. A cat face smiles out of an avocado halved down the center, right where the pit should be. The text above it reads Avogato.
“A reminder that I expect everyone to have gotten through la segunda pista by tomorrow evening.”
I’m listening, but I’m also thinking. Avocado is English, of course. And gato is the Spanish word for “cat.” Even though combining them still doesn’t make sense to me, I know from my teammates it must be a play on words.
“Then this Saturday, there will be a performance by one of Barcelona’s famous casteller troupes, which are also sometimes called human towers.” Señor L picks up a piece of paper from the table and waves it. “Here’s a sign-up sheet for anyone who’d like to come along. You can also get started on la tercera pista or do some sightseeing if you prefer, so long as there’s an adult present.”
“Did he say ‘human towers’?” Gibs whispers.
Andy keeps his voice low, as well. “Sounds kind of cool.”
“I think so, too,” says Isa. “Want to go as a team?”
We all nod, and I make a mental note to see if Laurel wants to come.
“The following Friday,” Señor L continues, “you’ll have the option to watch a movie about Barcelona’s unique history.”
“That,” Isa says, “sounds less cool.”
“Next—”
The dining room door swings open before Señor L can go on. Mrs. West enters first, then Madison, Laurel, and Sophie-Anne. Each carries an iced drink, topped with whipped cream.
Isa watches them sit down at my old table. “They seriously went to Starbucks?”
My breakfast swirls in my stomach. Laurel didn’t want to wake me up. That made sense. But this feels a whole lot like when she switched seats during the plane trip.
Señor L is also watching the procession. “You’re a little late to breakfast, girls.”
“It was my fault.” Mrs. West flashes him a too-wide smile as she takes a seat beside Abba and the rest of the chaperones. “I invited the girls and just had no idea the line would be so long.”
“All right, well.” Señor L doesn’t seem to know how to respond. He clears his throat and turns back to the rest of us. “Now that everyone’s here, I want you all to save space on your schedules for our final Saturday. We’ll not only be having dinner at a special, mystery location that evening, but it’s also when each team will present a fourth clue.”
Every single conversation stops, down to the softest murmur.
“So, hear me out, folks. There are four kids per team—with only one exception.” Señor L looks at Emmaline’s team of five. “So it makes sense to have each one of y’all present a clue to me and your fellow classmates, en español, of course. Use your tablets and be creative.”
The room erupts in excited conversation, Señor L forgotten. I feel a little sick, knowing I’m definitely going to have to present something now that there are four clues.
“He just gave us homework,” Gibs mutters. “Well played, Señor L.”
Andy shrugs. “It probably won’t take long to come up with a clue of our own.”
“Plus,” Isa says, “we’ll finish the second clue today. We have so much time left, Ellen could pick a place to visit tomorrow, then you the next day”—they point their fork at Gibs—“then Andy and me too, and we’d still have almost a week left to solve clue three and decide what we want the fourth to be.”
“Okay, okay.” Gibs lifts his hands. “I get it.”
My gaze drifts. At the other table, Madison and Sophie-Anne have finished their drinks. Laurel’s is still half full, probably because she hates coffee.
“That’s a really cool idea, actually.” Andy’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Want to do some sightseeing and save clue three for next week? Once we get done with la segunda pista, I mean.”
My thoughts pile up. Another day navigating loud, crowded La Rambla. An unknown location tomorrow.
All without Laurel.
“No,” I blurt out.
My teammates look at me.
“No what?” Gibs asks.
I swallow, but the rest of my words stay lodged in my throat. Eyes down, I spot Isa’s phone on their lap. I pull mine out and send a message to our group chat.
Ellen
I don’t want to go back to La Rambla.
Their phones all chime. Each of my teammates glances down.
Gibs looks up first. “Why not?”
I open my mouth, then close it.
Gibs lifts his phone. “It’s cool if you just want to type it.”
My teammates wait for me as I choose my words carefully.
Ellen
I want to go back sometime, just need some quiet today. If that’s okay?
“I get that.” Andy looks up. “Yesterday was pretty hectic.”
The swirling in my stomach slows.
“What should we do today instead?” Isa asks.
“Sleep,” Gibs says immediately. Then he texts it in all caps to our chat.
Andy ignores him. “There’s an FC Barcelona museum that might be cool to visit. FC Barcelona is a club that hosts a lot of sports,” he explains. “Basketball, soccer. Probably more.”
“I’d skip sleep for that,” Gibs says.
“No offense, guys, but I’m not into sports. Are you?” Isa looks at me and I shake my head. “What if you two ask Mr. Katz to take you and then we can have lunch together before today’s field trip? We can even start figuring out what we could do for the fourth clue while you’re gone.”
“You sure?” Andy asks.
“They just volunteered.” Gibs hops up. “Let’s go ask Mr. Katz. We can sign up for that human tower thing while we’re at it.”
“Isa volunteered.” Andy turns to me. “Are you cool with that plan, too, Ellen?”
I glance at the other table. Laurel smiles at something Sophie-Anne is saying while taking the tiniest sips of her drink.
I turn back to my team. “Yes.”
A morning alone with Isa. That’s something I can handle.