By the beginning of October four of the five French kindergartners were practically fluent in English. Little Gia Giorgopoulos, who was already fluent in both French and Greek, could now also speak English as if she had always known how. I only wished I were doing as well in my French class. I was nowhere near fluent even though I had been taking French for three years. It’s not as if I don’t practice, either. Kelly and I practice speaking French to each other a lot.
Kelly and I read books to the kids on rainy days when we had to stay inside during recess. We tried to read storybooks in French a few times. I think I was a little better at it than Kelly. But the French kids just giggled at our accents. Sometimes they asked, “What are you saying?” and they laughed. But sometimes they were nice and helped by telling us the right way to say the words. Only Claude still didn’t speak English very well. I think he was doing it on purpose! Claude seemed just as smart as the other kids. He was probably just giving us all a hard time to get attention.
One evening during the second week of October, I was lying on my bed studying for a math quiz. The phone rang. There’s a phone in almost every room in our house except for my room, where I think there needs to be one!
“Tory! Phone!” Jenny yelled up the stairs. My dad hates it when any of us yell through the house. He always says, “If you have something to say, come here and say it.”
But that night my parents were out to dinner with my dad’s business partner and his wife, so Jenny didn’t get in trouble. When I picked up the phone in my parents’ room, I yelled down, “Got it!”
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hi, Tory. It’s me.” Kelly always says that.
“What’s up? Are you studying for math?”
“Yeah. But that’s not what I’m calling about. Guess what?” she teased, sounding extremely excited.
“What?” I was tired and not in the mood to play Kelly’s guessing games.
“Since Halloween is going to be on a Saturday this year, my mom said I can have a Halloween party!”
“Great!” I said. “What kind of party is it going to be?”
“A Halloween party, dummy.” Ugh, I hate it when Kelly acts like that. I don’t think she means to be rude, though, so I usually just ignore it.
“I know that, but I mean, is it going to be girls and boys or just girls? During the day? At night? Give me some detail, Kelly.”
“Sleepover!” Kelly squealed.
“Awesome!” I had never been to a sleepover party before.
“I want you to help me with the guest list and the decorations. Oh, and I think I have a pretty cool idea for what we can dress up as this year.”
I can’t remember the last time I actually decided on my own Halloween costume. Every year, Kelly thinks up our costumes. I go along with her ideas because they’re usually pretty cool. Except when we were in fourth grade. Kelly had us dress up as babies. We carried bottles and pacifiers and wore bibs over pink footie pajamas. It was so embarrassing! The rest of the class teased us and called us the Diaper Twins until winter break! I was pretty curious to hear what this year’s costume would be. Before I could ask, Mom and Dad were home, and Dad said he needed to use the phone to make an important business call. I hadn’t even heard them come home. I told Kelly I would have to wait in suspense until the next morning, and then I hung up. Dad thanked me and picked up the phone to make his call, and Mom followed me out of the room.
“Did Jenny help you with your therapy this evening?” Mom asked.
“No. She was studying. I didn’t want to bother her.”
“Tory,” Mom scolded, “it’s not a bother. I told her you were going to ask her to do it while we were out.”
“I know,” I mumbled. Mom always says it isn’t a bother, but I’m never sure whether or not to believe her. I mean, just because I have to make time in my schedule to do therapy doesn’t mean Jenny should have to. After all, I am the one who has CF, not her. It isn’t her problem.
“Well, it’s getting late, and Dad will be on the phone for a while, so let’s get started.”
While Mom got my neb ready, I hooked up my machine. I tried to imagine what crazy Halloween costume Kelly had in mind for us this year.
Then I had a terrible thought. What would I do about my therapy at a sleepover party?