Chapter Thirty-One
Day 13
I head downstairs at 3:55 the next morning.
The garden door is propped open, but there’s no way to know if it’s Isa on their own or if Andy chose to come.
My chest clenches as the benches come into view. There are two people, just like I’d hoped. But something feels off. Andy and Isa just sit there, silent and still.
Isa sees me first and waves. Andy doesn’t move at all.
A deep breath, then I take a seat. “Thank you for coming.”
“Sure,” Isa says.
Andy keeps his eyes on the ground.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. If Andy really doesn’t want to see me, he might sit there and not say anything.
But I have to try. I want him to feel better so badly.
“I did an awful thing when I shared your secret with Laurel, and I’m sorry.” My voice trembles.
Andy braces the bench with locked elbows.
I remember Dr. Talia’s short list, the things I can control.
- My breath: I take one, deep and full.
- My attitude: I’ll be okay, even if I can’t fix all of my friendships.
- Then there are the words I use.
“Friendships are hard for me. It feels like there are so many rules and they don’t always stay the same. I’ve only ever had one friend before this trip, and now Laurel and I both have a new group,” I continue. “But I kept trying to make us work like we used to. For me, that meant telling her a secret that wasn’t mine to share.”
“Yeah, it definitely wasn’t.” Andy’s words cut through the air between us.
I glance over at Isa, who gives me a quick thumbs-up. I make myself go on.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s too late to take back what I shared, and I know you don’t have to forgive me. But I had to try because this feels like the first time since Laurel that people really like me for me. It’s almost like we’re—”
“Friends?” Andy tilts his head, voice softer.
I swallow hard. Nod.
“Duh.” Isa shrugs when Andy and I look at them. “I figured I’d fill in for Gibs.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Andy smile. It’s nothing like his wide grin at Port Vell, but it’s something.
The smile is gone when he turns back to me. “You know why I’m mad, right?”
Another nod. “I took away your choice to decide when to come out to other people.”
“Yeah.”
“I understand if you don’t forgive me,” I go on. “But I still wanted you to know I’m sorry. Plus, there’s another reason I asked to meet up this morning.”
“I’m listening.”
“Do you know what Pride Month is?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Andy says. “I mean, kind of. It’s to celebrate boys who like boys and girls who like girls, right?”
“And people like me,” Isa chimes in.
And dads like Abba. And Ellens like me.
I pull out my phone and click to the screenshot I took by Port Vell over a week ago.
“There’s going to be a parade later today.” I show Andy and Isa the rainbow-colored poster. “I have to stay at the hotel to watch Señor L’s movie, but I thought you might want to go.”
“… With your dad?” Andy asks.
“Yes. He wouldn’t even ask why you want to attend, either, I bet.”
“No bet,” Isa says. “Mr. Katz is cool.”
“I’ll think about it.” Andy stands. He says goodbye, then heads back inside.
“How do you feel?” Isa asks.
“I don’t know.” I allow myself to rock a little. “But I said what I needed to.”
“Yep.” They push up from their bench. “That’s all you can do.”
We head inside together.
“If we do go to the parade,” Isa says, “we’ll figure out our presentation when we get back, okay?”
They hold the door open for me.
“Or…” I’m the only one who hasn’t recited anything for Señor L yet, but my stomach twists just thinking about this. “… I could work on it while you’re at the parade. If you go, I mean.”
“That’s cool,” Isa says. “How about you text us your ideas this morning and we’ll figure it out together at breakfast?”
I step inside, and they click the door shut behind us.
“Okay.” That’s something I can do—at least, after a little more sleep.
At breakfast, I join my team at their table and Laurel joins hers. My heart still twinges a little when I see her, but my axis doesn’t tilt.
Gibs salutes me as I sit down beside Isa. Andy nods, then looks down. We focus on eating as our classmates chat around us. A current of excitement ripples from one table to the other.
“—think you know where we’re going for Saturday’s dinner?”
“Could be a museum. Another castle?”
“What about that big Ferris wheel up in the hills?”
“So.” Gibs finally breaks the silence. “Are we just gonna stay inside all day again, or…?”
“I’m kind of tired of our room, to be honest.” Andy twists his paper napkin. “Ellen had an idea that I think would be kind of cool. If others want to go, I mean.”
“Ellen had an idea,” Gibs repeats. “And she told you about it when, exactly?”
“This morning,” Isa says. “You were sleeping, as usual.”
For once, Gibs ignores Isa. He looks from me over to Andy. “So y’all’ve made up now?”
Andy shrugs, then twists up his napkin. It’s not the yes I’d hoped for, but it’s also not a no. “There’s a parade happening for Pride Month,” he says. “That’s for people who—”
“I know what Pride is,” Gibs interrupts. “I’m not dumb.”
Isa snorts.
“Usually, anyhow.”
“You don’t have to come if you don’t want,” Andy says. His napkin’s so tightly coiled, it looks like a paper snake, thin and long.
“Of course I’m going.” Gibs spears the last piece of jamón on his plate. “If y’all are coming, so am I. Besides, you couldn’t pay me to sit through Señor L’s—”
Isa shakes their head, and he stumbles to a stop. “Sorry, Ellen. The movie won’t be that bad. Probably.”
“It’s fine.” I honestly mean it. “Parades are loud and crowded. I won’t need headphones for the movie.”
Plus, I want Andy to enjoy the day, not worry that I’ll tell people things he doesn’t want me to share.
“You’re okay with going to the parade, too?” Andy asks Isa.
“Totally okay,” Isa says. “I thought it was a cool idea the moment Ellen mentioned it.”
Andy releases his napkin, hands relaxing.
“I also had an idea for our fourth clue,” I say. “I know we could just do Park Güell, but we weren’t there very long, and I don’t think it’s a good memory for anyone.”
“Except for meeting my lizard-dragon-salamander friend,” Gibs says.
Emmaline glances over, and my phone pings a second later.
Isa (they/them)
Maybe tell us on here so we can brainstorm in private?
For the rest of breakfast, we trade ideas in our group chat, until it feels like we have a solid plan. When our classmates start to head out, Andy stands. “Let’s go ask Mr. Katz about the parade.”
“Bye, Ellen.” Isa waves.
I wave back. “Have fun.”
Across the room, Laurel stands alone, her teammates already gone. She glances at me, then looks away, one hand on her cross charm.
I head over. She’s wearing a lacy shirt I’ve never seen before. “Is that new?”
“Yeah. I got it last week when my team went shopping. Do you like it?”
I imagine the scratchy lace against my skin, how the wide, scooped collar would probably slip off my shoulders. I’d have to slide it back into place, over and over.
“I think it’s perfect for you.”
Laurel smiles, just a little.
“Ready for the movie?” I ask.
“I guess.” She shrugs. “It’s not like we have a choice, right?”
“Correct.” I wave her toward the door. “Let’s go together.”
“All right, y’all.” Señor L shuts off the projector and flips the lights back on. “Any questions?”
Laurel and I shake our heads.
“Just one, actually.” Emmaline makes her way up to him, brandishing a pen and notepad.
Beside me, Laurel looks down at her phone. “My team is dropping by to pick me up in a minute,” she says. “See you later?”
Part of me wants to know if they ever figured out the first clue. I remind myself that some things are out of scope. I don’t need to know.
“See you later.”
Emmaline skips past us and Laurel follows. I sink back into a chair.
“Ellen?”
I look up at Señor L, who’s rolling up his projector screen.
“Did you want to talk about the movie?”
I shake my head, but start talking anyway. “It was interesting,” I say. “Like, I didn’t know some people speak Catalan before this trip. We haven’t talked about it in class.”
“That’s a very good point. Perhaps I can incorporate some of this into my lessons next year.” He goes on, “And despite the unfortunate clue sharing business, I hope you’ve enjoyed your time in Spain, Ellen.”
“I have.”
“Fantastic.” Señor L tucks the projector under one arm and his laptop under the other. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Alone in the community room, I remember my first morning when I woke up early and called Mom. I watched my first video of Barcelona here, too, plus met my new teammates. So much has happened since then, things I haven’t written down in my dot diary yet.
I head out. Clicking the door shut, I turn, right as Meritxell, Xavi, and their parents appear.
Xavi and the grown-ups pass me on their way to the dining room, but Meritxell slows.
“Bona tarda, Ellen.”
“Hola, Meritxell,” I say back. “¿Cómo estás?”
“Bien,” she says. “Your pronunciation is better.”
“¿Ah, sí?”
“Yes,” she confirms. “When do you leave?”
“Our flight leaves on Sunday morning,” I answer in Spanish.
Meritxell smiles. “¿Has disfrutado este viaje?”
“Sí.” I continue in Spanish. “I enjoyed Barcelona, and it was nice to meet you. Also Xavi.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Adéu.” She disappears into the dining room.
It’s not until I’m back in my room that I realize I had a conversation with Meritxell, completely in Spanish. Maybe I can handle presenting the fourth clue after all.
I settle onto my bed with my dot diary. The last time I wrote down my thoughts was Monday, but the entry was more about Laurel than Montjuïc Castle. I begin to fill in the blanks, leaving nothing out, from our team meeting on Tuesday to the trip to Park Güell. These aren’t the happiest memories, but I record them all.
I’m not sure how much time has passed when my phone vibrates. Still lost in thought, my pen hovers above my diary as I check my notifications.
It’s Abba.
Kind of.
Abba
Hi, Ellen. Isa here. Your dad’s letting us use his phone so we can talk to you while we’re out.
Andy says hi too.
Abba
It’s so humid out here it feels like a sauna punched us 
Abba
That was Gibs 
And this is Isa again (confused yet?).
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.
Ellen Katz
Hi. What’s the parade like?
Instead of another text, my phone buzzes with a video request. I click accept, and I’m treated to half of Isa’s face, half of Gibs’s.
“Hey!” Isa raises their voice over the background noise. “The parade is awesome.”
I turn the sound down. Now it’s not too loud but not so quiet that I can’t hear them.
“Yeah, it’s—” Gibs says a word that’s either “fun” or “dumb.” I think I can guess which one from his smile.
The phone changes hands, and Andy comes into view.
“It’s super loud here,” he says. “But also awesome.”
“So awesome.” Isa takes the phone back. “And we wanted to share it with you.”
The screen shakes as they turn the phone away from their face.
So many people. Milling around. Walking, talking, and eating food on the sidewalks. Some have their faces painted and others hold rainbow flags. There are other flags, too, in almost every primary, secondary, and tertiary color.
In the quiet of my room, I don’t have to hit record and return to it later. I sit back and watch everything as it’s happening, at a volume that’s manageable for me.
Boys hold hands with other boys, same for girls with girls. Sometimes I can’t figure out if I’m looking at someone who’s a boy, a girl, or some other gender. That’s okay. There’s room to add categories in my dot diary for all types of people—and also for myself.
The crowd starts clapping as one. Isa lifts their arm so I can see over people’s heads, to the street where a float rolls past. People’s heads bob at the bottom of the screen, all dancing.
Isa passes the phone to Gibs, then Andy, and finally Abba, who lifts it high enough for me to see rows of acrobats tumbling down the street. Each person wears one color of the rainbow flag, their movements perfectly in sync.
It feels like a holiday. A celebration of every identity. Each unique set of pronouns, maybe more than one set for some people.
Eventually, Abba lowers the phone and turns it around. “I want to save as much phone battery as I can while we’re out and about. I’m afraid we’ll have to say goodbye, Elle-bell.”
He pans the camera to Andy, Gibs, and Isa. They all wave to me.
“Happy Pride, Ellen,” Isa yells.
“Happy Pride.” I wave back, both hands flapping.
And I mean it. Especially the happy part.