I hope your rambles have been sweet, and your reveries spacious.
—Emily Dickinson

Saturday, May 2, 8:45 p.m.
Home from Regionals Exciting day

Even though I couldn’t compete in the regional dance meet with my leg in a cast, it was still exciting to be with the team when we came in first place. We were all cheering and hugging when we found out we’d won and that we’re advancing to the state meet. Even Ms. Baumann was in high spirits. And the excitement didn’t end there. When I got home, May and June were literally waiting at the front door for me.

“April, I get to go to camp this summer!” June told me before I’d even had a chance to go inside. “There’s a new program at Silver Shores for eight-year-olds, and Mom and Dad said I could do it!” She held her hand up and May high-fived it.

“That means we’ll all be together,” said May like she wanted to make sure I understood the full implication of what June was saying.

“I’m not going back to camp, May.” We’d discussed this plenty of times. I shouldn’t have had to remind her.

“But now you have to go back,” she said, like the fact that June was going changed everything. “This is the last summer you can be a camper, which means it’s the only chance we’ll ever have to all be together at camp.” May crossed her arms and looked at me. It was clear she wasn’t giving up so easily.

“I’ve already decided,” I told May. “I don’t even know why we’re discussing this.”

May gave June a do-your-thing look. June reached over and wrapped her arms around me. “Please, April! Please go back. We’ll all have so much fun together.”

My sisters weren’t making this easy. I took in a deep breath and exhaled before I spoke. “It would be fun, but you and May will have plenty of fun without me,” I said. What I didn’t say was that her idea of fun and mine weren’t exactly the same.

“We can talk about it later,” said June.

I felt kind of bad. It was pretty obvious she didn’t want to take no for an answer.

10:17 p.m.
Talked to Leo (43 minutes)

Tonight Leo called during his “phone break.”

“Is that like a coffee break?” I asked.

Leo laughed. “I don’t know. I don’t drink coffee, so I’ve never taken a coffee break.”

Even though he was studying for exams, I could tell he was in a playful mood.

“What exactly is a phone break?” I asked.

Leo explained that he made a study schedule for himself to get through exam week and that he had actually included time for phone breaks.

“I’m flattered,” I said when he told me all his phone breaks were allotted to me. “What about your parents? Aren’t you going to talk to them?”

“Nope,” said Leo. “No phone breaks for them.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “They know I’m busy studying.”

“Leo, would you rather talk to me than your parents?” I feigned surprise.

Leo laughed. “Easy question. Absolutely.”

I could tell he didn’t mind my line of inquiry, so I continued. “How long did you allot for our phone breaks?”

“Now that’s a good question,” said Leo. “After careful review of the amount of studying I need to do, I allotted twenty minutes per break.”

I looked at my phone. We’d been on for seventeen minutes. “Then we’d better start saying our good-byes. You’ve only got three minutes left.”

Leo laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I miscalculated,” said Leo.

“You?” We both knew he almost never made mistakes when it came to anything scientific or mathematical. “What did you miscalculate?” I asked.

“The amount of time I’d want to talk to you.”

We spent the next twenty-six minutes talking about how great it’s going to be when we’re both done with school and he’s home for the summer. “I can’t wait to hang out with you,” said Leo. He’d said that before, but this time he sounded like he really meant it.

“Yeah, me too,” I said softly.

Sure, I’ll miss some things about camp. But all I want to do this summer is hang out with Leo.

10:52 p.m.
In bed

What was I thinking? I can’t actually spend every day this summer just hanging out with Leo.

Leo will be working days at the deli, and I need something to do too. No way would Mom and Dad let me just sit around all day, and I wouldn’t want to. But the question is: What am I going to do in Faraway, Alabama, all summer?

As I see it, I have three options.

I could ask Mom if I could work at her store. It’s next door to the deli where Leo works. Even though a summer of folding clothes doesn’t sound like the most exciting way to pass the time, it would be cool to work next door to Leo. We could take our breaks together.

I could ask Dad if I could work at the diner. Waiting tables wouldn’t be so bad. I know he’d make me do lots of menial tasks like washing dishes. But I could ask Dad if I could spend some time in the kitchen too. It would be fun to gain some pie-making skills.

Or I could get a job somewhere else.

I can’t help what I’m about to write, but wondering what I will be doing here this summer makes me think about what I would be doing if I went back to camp.

After what happened last summer, I told myself I wasn’t going back. But the truth is that canoeing and swimming sounds like more fun than folding clothes or wiping down tables or whatever else I might end up doing.

Plus, I can’t help but think about my sisters and the fact that this is the only summer that all three of us would be able to be there together.

I don’t know why I’m thinking like this.

I had a terrible summer last year at camp and have no interest in repeating it, plus I want to be in Faraway with Leo. There’s nothing else to think about.

Good night.

Tuesday, May 5, 7:43 a.m.
Happy birthday, May!

May’s birthday is today, and she woke up everyone in our house this morning by shouting, “I’m twelve!” I got out of bed and went to her room.

“It’s way too early for this much enthusiasm,” I said. Even though she’d woken me from a deep sleep, when I saw her smiling face, I couldn’t be mad at her.

“April, I’m twelve!” she shouted as she jumped up and down on her bed like a little kid.

“Happy birthday!” I said. The truth is that even if I hadn’t had my leg in a cast, I wouldn’t have gotten on the bed and jumped with her. From my own experience, I knew the probability was high that the year ahead of her will suck. I thought it was incredibly mature of me not to tell her.

“We’re having my favorite dinner tonight—steak and baked potatoes. Mom is making a cake. And my party is Saturday at Sportz Town!” screamed May.

“That’s a lot to be excited about,” I told May as I left her room to go to my own and get dressed. Oddly, her early-morning enthusiasm was infectious. Now I feel excited too. It’s May’s birthday. Mom said Gaga seems to be doing OK. Leo is home on Thursday. I get my cast off on Friday, and May’s party is on Saturday. That’s a lot to be happy about.

I don’t always say this, but the week is shaping up to be a good one.