Chapter Thirty

An hour later, I lie in bed, thoughts swirling. I used to believe everything would make sense if I could just find a category to put it in. But I also believed Abba when he said identity isn’t always straightforward, that faith and relationships can be complicated. Now, my lists seem too simple, almost pointless.

“Incoming, Ellen.”

I get up and open the door.

“Ready?” Abba asks.

Something tells me it wouldn’t matter what I answer. I step into the hall, where Laurel’s entire team waits with Mrs. West.

I look from them to Abba, then back again before it clicks. I told Abba about Laurel asking me for clue help. Now we’re all going to get in trouble.

My stomach twists. No one talks as we make our way down to the community room. No one looks at me, either.

Señor L is already waiting there by the time we arrive.

“Take a seat, everyone, please.” His hands rest on his hips, giving me a full view of his T-shirt. I don’t try to decode it today. “I hear you all have something to tell me.”

No one says a word.

“About violating trip rules.”

On the couch, Laurel’s hand is at her throat, fingers tangled in her necklace. Next to her, Madison coils strands of hair around one finger while Sophie-Anne crosses and uncrosses her legs. Cody stands still as a statue behind them.

Señor L sighs. “Okay, level with me here. I can either take your version into account or make my own assumptions based on what Mr. Katz told me.”

Still nothing from Laurel’s team.

I take a breath. “I left the hotel without an adult this morning.”

All eyes shift to me.

“I’m aware, Ellen,” Señor L says. “And while I appreciate your candor, what I’d most like to know right now relates to sharing clue answers.”

“We didn’t share anything with anyone.” Madison finally speaks up. “If Laurel asked Ellen for information, she did that on her own, without us knowing. Right, Sophie?”

Sophie-Anne freezes, leg hovering mid-cross. She presses both knees together and nods, eyes on the ground.

Laurel’s cheeks flush pinker than her brightest shade of blush.

“They’re right,” Laurel says. “I asked Ellen for help with some of the clues because my team got stuck. But Ellen didn’t tell me anything.”

I stare at her, trying to figure out why she’s covering for the others.

“Well, I have to say I’m very disappointed, Laurel.” Señor L shakes his head. “The whole point of this trip was to discover Barcelona firsthand, an impossible goal if you aren’t willing to do your own work.”

“I know,” Laurel whispers. “I’m sorry.”

But Señor L isn’t done. “Honestly, it’s akin to copying homework. There’s no grade associated with this trip, but I’m afraid there must still be some form of consequence.”

I wince. I’ve never been in trouble with a teacher before. Not like this. When I was younger, I’d talk out of turn sometimes, forgetting to raise my hand before blurting out an answer. But this feels different.

“Ellen and Laurel have lost the privilege of choosing their schedule tomorrow. Both must watch the Barcelona history video I’m planning to show. It is no longer optional. Unfortunately for their teams, any remaining clue work that requires leaving the hotel tomorrow will have to be completed without them.” Señor L looks from Laurel to me. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Laurel and I say together.

I look over at Laurel, but she avoids my gaze.

“All right, then.” Señor L gives us a stiff nod. “Let’s head to breakfast.”

Once Laurel’s team is gone, Señor L turns to Abba. “Thanks for bringing this to my attention, Natan. I can’t imagine it was easy, what with your own daughter involved.”

“Of course,” Abba replies. “Ellen and I talked this through together. We’ll also be having a call with her mom a little later.”

I stand. “I’m sorry, Señor L. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I certainly hope not.” Señor L gives me a small smile. “There’re only a few days left on this trip, after all.”

Abba smiles, too. I don’t. As far as I can tell, there’s nothing to be happy about.

After breakfast, I return to my room until it’s time to call Mom. My eyes trace the wall decal’s curling tendrils to one end of the room, then back to its blossoming petals.

Across the room, Laurel lies curled up in bed. Her suitcase has returned, but she hasn’t put any clothes back in the closet.

I miss Gibs bouncing around and Andy’s laughter. Isa’s patient answers to all of my questions.

More than anything, I miss what I used to share with Laurel.

My thoughts shift back to the last time I felt happy with her, up on the top level of Montjuïc Castle. I can’t know for sure if she was the one who told Madison about Andy, but I also can’t think of another logical explanation. “Why did you lie when you promised Andy wouldn’t find out if I told you his secret?”

Laurel looks over at me. Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t say anything.

“And you lied when Señor L asked about clue sharing,” I point out. “Sophie-Anne and Madison should’ve been punished, too.”

“Things aren’t always black and white, Ellen.” Laurel’s voice has an edge to it, but it sounds tired, a little dull. “Madison and Sophie have cheerleading camp coming up. If they’d gotten in trouble, their parents might not let them go.

And Laurel has gymnastics practice. What’s the difference?

“I don’t like lying, but sometimes you have to protect your friends,” Laurel continues. “At least I didn’t lie to my best friend for no good reason.”

“There was a reason. I liked the team I was on.”

Laurel blinks. “More than spending time with me?”

“No.” The word comes fast. And maybe it was true at the beginning of this trip, but now I realize it’s no longer accurate. “Actually, yes.”

She blinks again, eyes filling with tears.

My heart squeezes. I start to rock.

“Elle, stop.”

“No.” I shake my head and take a breath. But I don’t stop rocking. “You know this helps me, but lately it feels like you’re always trying to stop me anyway. Like I embarrass you.”

Tears spill down both of Laurel’s cheeks. But she doesn’t deny it.

“You’re my best friend, but we’ve hardly seen each other lately,” I tell her. “I thought this trip would fix things, but it didn’t. I don’t even think being on the same team would’ve helped. Not if Sophie-Anne and Madison were also on it.”

The truth calms me now that it’s out. I stop rocking.

Laurel sniffles, but her tears have stopped. I slide off my bed and grab a box of tissues.

She dabs her eyes as I look on. “Sophie and Madison are my friends, too, Ellen.”

“I know.” I hand her another tissue. “But you act different when you’re around them. You want me to stop stimming. And you got quiet when I said I think some girls are cute.”

“Honestly, Elle, you can like whoever you want.”

I think about this. Maybe not everything is black and white, like Laurel said. Maybe she can be okay with who I like but only in private.

Except, I don’t want that.

I look down at Laurel, one part of the two Els. My best-and-only friend since third grade.

“Okay.” I don’t want to fight about it. I don’t even think I want us to go back to the way we used to be.

There’s only one thing left to say. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about switching teams.”

She looks up at me. “Okay.”

She shakes her head when I offer another tissue, so I return to my bed. Laurel doesn’t say anything else, just reaches for her phone. I reach for mine, too.

I flip through video clips, until I get to the ones from last week. Videos taken before Montjuïc, before the boquería, when things felt simpler.

I replay my first trip to La Rambla. Gibs drops coins into a street performer’s cup, then we move on, toward a crowd waiting to enter the boquería. I didn’t take video inside the tile shop where I bought my postcards, but I retrace every step of our journey after: glimpses of La Rambla from quieter streets and then lunch near Port Vell. My camera pans from our tapas up to the restaurant.

I pause on the rainbow-colored ad in its window, then zoom in until I can read the text. It’s for an event, one that takes place tomorrow.

A series of knocks pulls me away from my phone. Laurel glances up, too, but I rise before she can move.

“It’s Abba.”

I head into the hall, thoughts still on my half-formed idea. It probably won’t mend my friendship with Andy, but it could be a peace offering.

All I know is things won’t feel right until I at least try to apologize.

Abba calls Mom on his iPad, letting me explain what happened in my own words. We agree to set up a special family session with Dr. Talia when I get home so we can work through everything as a team.

The last time we talked, Mom said teams exist so when one person needs a little extra support, the others can help them out, so this sounds like a good plan to me.

It also makes me think of Andy, Gibs, and Isa.

I steal a glance at my phone. Still no group chat messages. My chest tightens.

Mom yawns, and I look back at Abba’s iPad.

“I’m sorry you had to wake up early because of me.”

“Oh, it’s fine. It’s always nice to see your faces. Plus, it gave me a chance to check on David—look.” She holds her cactus up to the screen. “I’ve managed to keep him alive for an entire week! Although he did prick me yesterday. Ouch, David.” She frowns at him.

“Go back to bed, Miriam.” Abba chuckles. “We’ll talk again tomorrow, before Shabbat.”

We say goodbye to Mom, then I slide off Abba’s bed.

“I heard about this Basque restaurant from your teacher,” Abba says. “It’s near the Gothic Quarter, which we haven’t had a chance to see yet, so I thought you and your teammates might want to give it a try.”

“As long as they have kosher food—and vegetarian options for Isa.” I look up at him. “But you can eat whatever you want, of course.”

“Of course.” Abba grins. “How about you go let Isa know and I’ll check in on the boys. If Andy still isn’t feeling great, we can always bring something back for him.”

“Okay.” But my chest tightens more as I head for the door. I’m the reason Andy’s hiding in his room.

I head downstairs to Isa’s room. A few anxious seconds after I knock, Isa sticks their head out.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” I tell them about Abba’s lunch idea.

“Sounds cool,” Isa says. “Give me a minute to grab my stuff.”

They don’t invite me into their room today. A reminder that I haven’t been entirely forgiven.

They reappear with their bag slung over one shoulder, heading for the stairs. “Okay, ready.”

“Wait.”

Isa stops.

“I just wanted to say I can recite the third clue for Señor L when we get back. Andy doesn’t have to be there, or you either, if you don’t want.”

“Thanks, but we’re actually done already. Gibs texted me yesterday. We did it together right before dinner.”

“Oh.” I look down.

“What we really need to figure out is what to do for clue four when half of us aren’t speaking to each other.”

A lump forms in my throat.

“Anyway.” Isa hovers by the stairwell. “Is that all, or…?”

I could say yes. Then Isa and I would head downstairs, and we’d all eat an awkward lunch together.

But I don’t want to spend the rest of this trip tiptoeing around each other. Not if there’s a way I can fix it.

“No.” I swallow, then make my way over to them. “Before I got locked out front this morning, I was in the garden. I was hoping to apologize to everyone, Andy especially.”

“I don’t think any of us felt like hanging out this morning, Ellen.”

“That makes sense. But I want to make it up to him. And you. Or try, at least.” My words tumble over one another. “Do you think you could convince him to come to the garden tomorrow?”

“I honestly don’t know.” My heart sinks as Isa takes a step down the stairs. “But I can ask. Meet you at our usual time, even if he says no?”

“Yes.” My chest flutters just the tiniest bit. “I’ll meet you no matter what.”