CHAPTER ELEVEN

HYDROPLANE

hy·dro·plane

verb \hɪ-drǒ-playn\

—to slide uncontrollably on a wet surface

Friday night, Lucille invited Jolina and me to a sleepover at her house. I loved going to Lucille’s house because her mom was a way better cook than mine. Meatloaf was never served at Lucille’s house.

Never.

I was also looking forward to not having to fight Chewy over my mattress and to finally getting a good night’s sleep.

With my duffle bag slung over my shoulder and my pillow tucked under my arm, I headed down the street. I stopped at Jolina’s house first and waited while she got her stuff together.

“Don’t forget your makeup,” I reminded her.

“It’s already packed.”

Lucille’s mom didn’t let her wear makeup so Jolina always brought hers. Mrs. O’Reilly said we could play with it, but not wear it outside.

We walked down to Lucille’s and started with makeovers right away. When Lucille had finished mine, I looked in the mirror. She was great with hair, but I understood why her mom wasn’t ready for her to start wearing makeup. Thanks to her, I looked like a circus clown.

Mrs. O’Reilly popped her head into Lucille’s room. “Girls, dinner will be ready in—oh my. How … colorful you look, Ella.”

Lucille looked pleased. “Thanks, Mom.” She turned to me. “I told you it didn’t look bad.”

I kept quiet and looked back at Mrs. O’Reilly.

“What time did you say dinner was?” I asked, feeling my cheeks redden under all the rouge.

Mrs. O’Reilly shook her head as though to clear her vision. “I’d say in about ten minutes. Are you hungry for some manicotti?”

“Oh, I love your manicotti,” I said, rubbing a tissue over my cheeks in an attempt to look normal at the dinner table.

Jolina pushed herself up from the floor and headed toward the door. “I’m ready to eat now if manicotti’s on the menu.”

Mrs. O’Reilly laughed. “You girls are sweet. I just took it out of the oven so give it a few minutes to cool.” She went down the hall and we tidied up.

“Let’s do mani-pedis after dinner,” said Jolina.

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

Lucille zipped Jolina’s makeup bag shut. “I’m glad she made manicotti. That’s one of the few things everyone in our family agrees on.” Her four-year-old brother, Charlie, was the world’s pickiest eater.

We all sat down at the dinner table and my stomach gurgled with anticipation. Everything smelled delicious. Mrs. O’Reilly had made two dishes of manicotti, a ginormous salad, and garlic bread that dripped with warm butter.

Charlie had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on his plate along with his manicotti. He had a PB and J sandwich with every meal. It was his favorite food in the whole world.

“I made a cake today at my four school,” Charlie announced to Jolina and me. The year before, Charlie had thought he was going to “three” school instead of preschool. So when he turned four, he naturally started saying he was going to four school.

Charlie was always coloring pictures of trains and superheroes for me. A few days earlier, he had said I was his best friend and if he ever had a pet rooster, he’d name it after me. So I knew he’d want me to be impressed with his cake announcement.

I flung my hand up to my chest in surprise like Mom would whenever Dad surprised her with flowers. “Amazing!” I said.

“You didn’t make the cake, Charlie. You decorated it,” Mrs. O’Reilly corrected. She turned to us. “They are learning about insects in his class and his teacher made each student a bumblebee cake. The kids got to decorate their own and bring it home. We’ll all try some later.”

“I named my cake Boogers,” Charlie said proudly.

Mr. O’Reilly coughed into his water glass and Lucille snorted. Lucille adored Charlie and thought everything he said was funny.

“People don’t name cakes, Charlie,” said Mrs. O’Reilly, unfazed. “They eat them.”

“We’re going to eat my Boogers?” Charlie said.

Mr. O’Reilly hid his face in his napkin as his shoulders shook, and Lucille almost fell out of her chair laughing.

I’d been eating a ton of dark chocolate brownies lately and was not feeling any smarter. I was ready to try anything as long as it didn’t have dark chocolate in it—even a cake named Boogers.

Mrs. O’Reilly raised her eyebrows at Charlie, who looked half-confused and half-delighted with his dad and sister’s reactions. “You, young man, won’t be having anything for dessert unless you eat all your dinner.”

Charlie quietly concentrated on his meal after that.

We helped Mrs. O’Reilly clear the table, and she suggested we hang out upstairs for an hour before she served dessert.

Thirty minutes later, the three of us had cotton balls stuffed between our toes and were painting on nail polish.

“We should do this more often,” I said. “Why can’t school be this fun?”

Jolina repositioned her knee and leaned in closer toward her toes. “School is fun—most of the time. I just don’t like it when Ms. Carpenter talks about gross stuff like rigor mortis.”

Lucille laughed.

I grunted. “School is only fun for smart people.”

“You’re smart, Ella—you just need to change your perspective,” said Jolina.

“You always sound like an adult—you know that, right?”

Jolina paused from her painting and looked up, grinning. “Thanks.” She screwed the lid onto the bottle she held and set it down. “Seriously, though, don’t let school get to you.”

“I’m not going to let it get to me—in fact, I’ve got a plan.” I painted my pinkie toe. Some nail polish got on my skin and I wiped it off before explaining my idea; I hated it when my pinkie toes looked larger than they really were. “I’m going to bribe Ms. Carpenter with a bag of Sour Patch Kids every day. She told me once they’re her favorite.”

“Isn’t bribery illegal?” said Lucille.

I shrugged. “I’m still working out the kinks.”

Jolina laughed. “Ella, you can’t bribe Ms. Carpenter with candy so you’ll get an A on the project.”

I was about to respond when Mrs. O’Reilly came into the room and pretended to stagger toward the window. “Good grief, girls! The air in here is poisonous. Let’s open a window, shall we?” She lifted the pane and took a deep breath. A kitchen towel was flopped over her shoulder and she took it off, using it to fan the smell of nail polish out the window.

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.” She sat down on Lucille’s bed and put the towel next to her. “Personally, Ella, I would love it if someone gave me a bag of candy every day, but Jolina’s right—you can’t bribe your teacher.” She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows at me. “Not that I actually thought you were going to do that anyway.”

I smiled. “It seemed like a good idea.”

“You can’t control your circumstances, but you can control how you react to them.”

“You moms all sound the same,” I said. I knew she was right—but only about the bribery part. I was still sure there was a way I could control my circumstances and that I just hadn’t found it yet.

Mrs. O’Reilly laughed and picked up the kitchen towel. “How about I bring in a couple cots and blankets? You don’t have to set them up now, but you can if you want.”

“That’d be great. Do you need help?” Jolina said.

“No, they’re not heavy. I just need to see what Charlie is up to first—it’s been too quiet for the last few minutes.”

Charlie destroyed things in the O’Reilly household on a regular basis. Lucille said he didn’t mean to ruin things; he was just curious about stuff. The bathroom was where he was usually the most destructive. Lucille kept a running tally of things he’d tried to flush down the toilet so far. We knew that Matchbox cars, LEGO bricks, and markers made it down, but the cowboy hat on his Woody doll and a full roll of toilet paper wouldn’t.

Lucille was screwing the cap on her blue nail polish when we heard Mrs. O’Reilly from down the hall.

“No! No! No!”

We raced as fast as we could on our heels, making sure to keep our freshly painted toes up off the carpet. We looked like a horde of zombies with our funny waddle and our fingers spread out to keep from smearing our wet nails. Once we were in the hallway we were able to move faster; it was tile and not carpet, so we didn’t need to walk on our heels. We sprinted down the hall toward the bathroom … which was not smart.

We found out later that Charlie had attached the vacuum cleaner extension hose to the bathroom faucet and left the other end hanging down. When he turned on the faucet, water poured out the door and down the hall, creating the world’s first vacuum cleaner water slide. When our feet hit the wet floor the three of us put on a skating show that would have earned us an Olympic gold medal.

I landed with a splat and hydroplaned into the linen closet door. Jolina fell on top of me, and Lucille fell on top of Jolina.

Four hours later, I walked out of the emergency room with Mom, Dad, and a broken wrist. The bright pink cast on my right arm stopped just below my elbow. The nurse thought I got two black eyes from the fall as well until I explained that was just Lucille’s attempt at doing my makeup.

We got home late—close to midnight. At least the next day was Saturday and I could sleep in. I whispered goodnight to Mom and Dad and, since Aunt Willa was sleeping, tiptoed into my room. Chewy was sacked out, snoring on my mattress again. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. Chewy was one situation I was going to control whether he liked it or not—I just wasn’t sure how. I couldn’t shove him off my bed before and I sure wouldn’t be able to with a cast on.

Grabbing my pillow and blanket, I headed for the sofa, feeling sorry for myself. My wrist throbbed, I couldn’t sleep in my own bed, and I never did get to eat any of Charlie’s Booger cake.