Well, it’s no secret that the best thing about a secret is secretly telling someone your secret.
—SpongeBob
Friday, March 27, 9:45 p.m.
HOME!!!
In my bed
Curled up next to my dog
I can truly say that I’ve never been so happy to be home. Hands down, the best part about getting home—besides having the long day of travel behind me—is that Gilligan hasn’t left my side. I think he saw my cast and crutches and just had a dog’s sense that something was wrong.
The trip home today was a big challenge. It wasn’t too hard navigating through the airports on crutches—that part was pretty easy because the airline carted me around in a wheelchair. But there were other things that made it challenging.
Like going to the bathroom on a plane. I had to walk down the aisle with my crutches. Mom escorted me because she didn’t want me to fall. At fourteen, it’s pretty embarrassing to be taken to the bathroom by your mother. It’s even worse when it happens on a plane. As we walked down the aisle, several people wanted to know what happened. “She had a little tumble skiing, but she’ll be fine,” Mom said, like I’d asked her to be my spokesperson.
“Mom, I can explain what happened,” I mumbled.
“You just focus on getting to the bathroom safely,” she said.
I was relieved when I finally got inside the bathroom and out of Mom’s watchful eye. But when I sat on the toilet, my crutches, which I had propped up against the wall, fell over, and one of them hit me on the head. Now, I have a bruise on my forehead to go with the cast on my foot. Not a great look.
But it wasn’t just the cast and crutches that made the trip home challenging. Sophie literally talked the whole way back about how and when she was going to tell Billy she’s moving back to New York. She made me promise I wouldn’t tell him. “Why would I tell him?” I asked.
“Because you’ve been best friends with him for a long time,” she said.
I wasn’t sure if it was the altitude or the fact that she’d drunk a whole can of apple juice and eaten three bags of mini pretzels, but she wasn’t making a lot of sense. “Why would I want to be the one to tell Billy something he won’t want to hear?”
It was Sophie’s secret to tell. I didn’t mind her talking to me about how she was going to share it. But soon other people would know, and that made it seem that much more real.
As our plane was landing in Mobile, I closed my eyes and thought about the trip. There were some bumps (and not just the ones on the slopes), but all things considered, it was a great trip with my family, and I’m so glad Gaga planned it.
It’s something I’ll never forget.
Skiing in the mountains was probably the complete opposite of snorkeling in the Florida Keys, which was what I did on our family vacation two summers ago, but I loved this just as much. I remember going underwater and thinking that everything was so peaceful and quiet. The mountains were majestic and open, and it made me feel like I was on top of the world. I wouldn’t be able to choose which I liked more.
I think the bottom line is that I like experiencing new things. But as great as it was to go away, I’m glad to be back. I don’t want to sound too much like The Wizard of Oz, but I think Dorothy said it best.
There’s no place like home.
Saturday, March 28, 4:45 p.m.
Talked to Leo
Leo called today to see how I was doing. It was really sweet. “How’s your tibia?” he asked. It made me laugh. No one but him would refer to the actual bone I broke.
“Hard to tell,” I said.
“How’s the rest of you?” He didn’t have to explain what he meant.
When I called from Park City to tell him about my fall on the slopes, I’d also told him that Sophie is moving. “I still can’t believe she’s going,” I said.
“Remember when we talked about patterns?” asked Leo. I couldn’t imagine where he was going with this. “I still don’t see one,” he said. “Gaga’s cancer. Sophie moving. A broken leg. They’re all unrelated incidents.”
“I’m not so sure.” I told him about the fortune I got in the cookie at Happy China and about my horoscope June read in the Atlanta airport on the way to Salt Lake City. “They were both accurate,” I said.
Leo laughed. “I’m a science guy. I definitely don’t believe any of those things happened as a result of a fortune you got or a horoscope you read.”
“Then how do you explain all of those bad things happening at once?” I asked.
“The answer to that is simple,” said Leo. “People get sick. They break bones. Families move. It happens all the time.”
I wasn’t sure it was as simple as Leo thought it was. But I did have another question for him, and I didn’t think he’d have a quick answer for it.
“What explanation do you have that will make me feel better about the fact that I will be turning fifteen in less than a month with a cast on my leg?”
I was sure I had Leo on this one. But in typical fashion, he had a response. “April, I think you’ll look cute in a cast and a birthday hat.”
I love that Leo always knows what to say to make me feel better. Kind of like Gaga.
Thinking about it made me laugh. Who knew the boy I like would turn out to have something in common with my grandmother?
Sunday, March 29, 3:45 p.m.
Trying to read
I was sitting at the kitchen table, quietly reading Us Weekly when Mom sat down with me. “We need to talk about school tomorrow and how you’re going to get around.”
I looked up from my magazine. “That’s the last thing I want to talk about.” Or think about. Going back to school with my leg in a cast sounds awful. “I want to enjoy the last day of spring break thinking about the Kardashians, not about the week ahead,” I told Mom.
Shockingly, she let me do it.
9:02 p.m.
In my room
May and June just came into my room to tell me good-night. “We promise we’ll help you with anything you need while your leg is in a cast,” said May.
“Yeah,” said June. “Your wish will be our command.” She put her hands together, genie-style.
I laughed. “You don’t have to do that,” I said. But I appreciated the offer. And what made me feel even better was that I had a strong feeling it had all been May’s idea. Ever since we got home, she’s made a big effort to be sweet and thoughtful. It’s clear she’s thought about what I said in Park City.
As my sisters hugged me good-night, I thanked them for their offer of help.
Come tomorrow, something tells me I’m going to need all the help I can get.
Monday, March 30, 5:54 p.m.
Home from school
Thankfully
There are pros (at least one) and cons (many) to going to high school on crutches.
Pro: You get a lot of attention and offers of help. I couldn’t believe how nice people were at school today. Maybe it’s because I live in Alabama and it’s just southern hospitality at its finest, but so many people at school were so nice. Kids I barely know offered to carry my backpack between classes. At lunch, Harry and Sophie brought me food. Two football players even offered to carry me, and not just my backpack, across campus. Since I’m not a football, I respectfully declined the offer. But I have to admit I considered it. It was hard work getting around Faraway High on crutches.
Now the cons: Sore underarms, an itchy, swollen foot, and the obvious unattractiveness of being in a cast weren’t even close to the biggest downside. The worst part for me about having a broken tibia is that it means I’m out of dance for the rest of the season!
That’s worse than bad, because the remainder of the season is the most important part. We have the district and regional competition coming up, and then the state competition if we make it, which we always do.
Surprisingly, Ms. Baumann was sympathetic when she heard what happened. I thought she was going to give me a lecture about how I should have been more careful. But she didn’t. She just said accidents happen and gave me the rest of the season off from dancing, but she also made me her assistant. That means I’m supposed to help her organize music, schedules, and costumes.
My official duties started today, and since Ms. Baumann is incredibly organized, there was no additional organization for me to do, which means I sat in a chair during practice and did my homework while the rest of the team danced.
At break, the girls on the team all signed my cast and everyone was sympathetic when I told them the doctor in Park City said I’d be in a cast for at least four weeks.
“I can’t believe we’ve lost one of our best dancers right when we need you most!” said Emily. I wasn’t sure it was true, but it was nice to hear it. Everyone was so sweet . . . except for Brynn. I should have expected it. She didn’t sign my cast. She didn’t say anything to me. Not even an, “I’m sorry you fell and broke a bone.”
Honestly, I think that hurt more than the pain in my tibia.
Wednesday, April 1, 7:05 p.m.
The secret is out
I wondered how Billy was going to take it when Sophie told him she’s moving back to New York, but I don’t have to wonder anymore. Sophie just came over to tell me how it went when she told him this afternoon after school.
In typical, thoughtful Billy fashion, his first concern was for Sophie and how she’s doing. “He was so sweet,” said Sophie. “He kept saying he hopes I get that this is about the fact that both my parents love me and just want what’s best for me.”
“Did he say he was sad?” I asked.
Sophie laughed. “Actually, he said he was happy.”
“Huh?” I hadn’t expected that reaction.
“He said he was glad he figured out why I was in such a funk before the trip because he was starting to feel self-conscious that it was something he’d done.”
I could relate to that. Still, I knew Billy was kidding when he said he was happy. “You have to love Billy’s sarcasm,” I said.
“I do,” said Sophie. “There are lots of things about Billy I love,” she said. She told me she’s really going to miss him when she leaves but that she’s glad she told him she’s moving. “I feel better now that my secret is out,” she said.
I smiled at her. “You know how the saying goes. The truth shall set you free.”
“Yeah,” said Sophie. I know she feels better. But I can’t say that I do. Now that she’s told Billy, I know word will spread fast.
Billy was right. Sophie’s parents only want what’s best for her, and that means living in New York City where they can both be part of her life. That’s definitely what’s best for her.
I just wish it also felt like what’s best for me.