There were some things you just couldn’t put into words.
“Tell me again how you got your nickname,” Luella said through a mouthful of Lego candy.
It was the last day of summer, and Tiny and Luella were sitting outside the Guggenheim Museum, contemplating their futures. They wore shorts and flip-flops and tank tops, and still felt overdressed. It was the hottest day of the year by far, and the entire city was engulfed in a sticky, thick, edible humidity. The heat was a tangible, visible, moving thing, rising up off the sidewalk as if it were alive.
Tiny just hoped they could get everything on their Last Day of Summer Itinerary done before the skies opened up on them. It was eight in the morning. They had the whole day in front of them, and there was a lot they still had to accomplish. Traditions were important. They gave your life purpose and structure and meaning. When the world got crazy and nothing felt permanent anymore, they helped tether you to the ground. They helped you remember who you were.
Tiny felt like she’d hardly seen Luella at all this summer, which is why today’s traditions were extra important.
Tiny and Luella—Tlu, as they called themselves often, or Talulah when they didn’t feel like abbreviating, or Tine or Tine-O or Loozles when they referred to each other individually—met at eight in the morning on the first and last day of every summer. They walked through Central Park to the Guggenheim, by far the coolest building in New York, and sat on the wall out front, watching the tourists. Luella would eat candy. Tiny would eat normal breakfast foods. It was always the same. It was comforting. Some things between you and your best friend should never have to change.
Other traditions on the last day of summer were:
Meeting Will and Nathaniel for a picnic lunch at the Alice in Wonderland statue by the boat basin.
Getting gelato that night, and everyone had to pick the weirdest flavor possible.
Doing one thing you’ve never done before.
The last one was Tiny’s favorite. She looked forward to it every summer. She made lists throughout the year, saved up all of her firsts for that one special day, to keep the tradition intact.
“Tell me again how you can eat candy for breakfast?”
“It’s just one of my many lovable quirks.” Luella grinned. Her teeth were pink with melted candy. “Now tell me.”
“You know how I got my nickname,” Tiny said.
“Yes, but it’s hot and I’m bored and I want you to tell me.”
Tiny put her notebook down.
“Once upon a time, there was a girl named Emma. She lived in New York City, the biggest, craziest, best city in the world. She wanted nothing more than to grow up into a strong, well-respected cultural icon. But one day, she angered a vengeful troll. And so he cursed her. With tininess. In perpetuity.” She picked her pen up and started writing again.
“Hm,” said Luella. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“I took some storytelling liberties.”
“Good job, Sister Grimm.” Luella squirmed, trying to see over her shoulder. “What are you writing?”
“A poem.”
“What’s it about?”
Tiny flipped the notebook closed. “I can’t tell you.” It was a love poem, kind of. Luella would make so much fun of her if she found out.
* * *
As always, the real story of how Tiny got her nickname was less epic than the fairy tale she’d made up about it.
It all started when Tiny was little, in nursery school, or maybe kindergarten. Nathaniel had made up a game called Science Club. The four of them—Tiny, Nathaniel, Lu, and Will—used to huddle over Nathaniel’s kitchen table after school, pouring different ingredients into glass jars and documenting the results.
Salt + Water = Salty Water
Vinegar + Baking Soda = Frothy Bubbles
That was back when Tiny went by the name Emma. Because that was the name her parents had given her, and no one had ever called her anything different. Even at five, Luella was always the dramatic one, and Nathaniel was the smart one, and Will was the funny one. Emma was just . . . Emma. The quiet one.
Until the day everything changed.
It was the day Tobias walked into the kitchen, carrying a robotic hand made of balsa wood. Four years older, Tobias was the real scientist. He won the science fair every year and always had the coolest project in the class. He had curly dark-brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses, and was wearing a T-shirt with Han Solo and Chewbacca drawn in the style of Calvin and Hobbes.
“Greetings, earthlings,” Tobias said. He pulled a rubber band at the base of the hand, and the fingers contracted in a wave. “Nathaniel. William. Luella.” Luella snickered. Tobias stopped on Tiny. The hand reached over and patted her on the head. “Tiny,” he said. She was at least two feet shorter than he was.
“Am not,” Tiny said.
“Are too.”
Tiny felt her cheeks turn pink.
“Am. Not.”
Tobias laughed. “Bye, Tiny!”
“Shut up, Tobias!” Nathaniel called after him.
But it was too late. Her head wasn’t the only thing Tobias had held in his robotic hand. He had plucked her from obscurity. He had noticed something special about her—even something as dumb and insignificant as not growing as fast as the others—and he had shone a light on her.
He was now holding her heart, too.
* * *
“Are you going to submit it to the lit mag?” Luella was still trying to read the poem over Tiny’s shoulder.
“I don’t know. Probably not.” Tiny blinked. It was amazing how much of your life could be defined by one singular memory. Ever since that day, she had been Tiny.
“You totally should. How cool would it be to write this amazing poem and have everyone know it’s yours?”
“This one’s private. The only way I’d submit this is if I did it anonymously.”
“If you say so,” said Luella. “I love being the center of attention. I’d want all that glory.” Luella smiled to herself and hummed under her breath.
“Luella,” Tiny said. “What’s up with you today? You are acting like you do when you have a secret.”
“I don’t have a secret,” Luella said, and kept humming.
“Uh, yes, you totally do!”
“Do not.” Luella stuffed a piece of candy into her mouth and crunched down audibly.
“Okay, weirdo.” Tiny nudged her with her elbow. “You always hum when you have a secret.” They sat in silence for a minute or two. Well, silence, except for Luella’s crunching and the sound of heat thunder rumbling in the distance.
“Hey,” Tiny said, swinging her feet out. “How are you and your mom doing? With the move-out and everything?”
“Fine,” Luella said absently.
“Fine?”
“Just trying not to think about it.”
“Oh,” Tiny said. “Yeah. Okay.” She struggled to think of something else to say. Luella was clearly done with the subject. “So, I have an idea about tonight. It combines two of our traditions: meeting up for gelato, and the thing I’ve never done before.”
“Oooh.” That got Luella’s attention. “Tell me.”
“Well, okay. Tobias leaves for Boston tomorrow and has to get some final data to submit with his interdisciplinary course proposal for EAPS. Something about climate change and cities and electrical energy. Nathaniel asked if we wanted to go with him to the Brooklyn Bridge and watch. It’ll be very Benjamin Franklin.”
Luella looked skeptical.
“Yeah, okay. Maybe.”
“Luella! You mean no, don’t you?”
“I mean maybe. But, Tiny, here’s the thing. We start high school tomorrow. Tobias is going to college. Isn’t it time to get over him? Put him behind you and start the year fresh?”
Tiny frowned. “I’m fine. I don’t need to put him behind me.”
Luella grabbed the notebook. “What’s this? I see his name! In your di-a-ry.” Tiny grabbed the notebook back.
“It’s not a diary. It’s a poetry journal.”
“Whatever. Well, then maybe just bite the bullet and tell him you like him already and want to have ten thousand of his little genius babies.” Luella bit down on a piece of candy. Hard. It broke in half.
“Er. Maybe,” Tiny said, meaning no. But Luella was getting excited.
“Yes! That’s the thing you’ve never done before! I’ll go tonight if you do that!”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Then my answer is still maybe.”
Tiny eyed her. “Why are you being so mysterious? Do you have other big plans tonight that you’re not telling me about?”
“No.”
“Is that why you’re acting all weird?”
“No.”
“Because we have to check off all of our traditions! If we don’t, life will have no meaning!”
Luella snorted. “I thought I was supposed to be the drama queen.”
“Luella, pleeease. It’s the last night of summer. Tomorrow is high school. It’s not going to be like this forever. Tonight is, like, pivotal. I need you! Promise!”
“God, Tiny, yeah, I promise.”
Maybe Tiny would tell him tonight. Maybe it was her last chance before he went away to college and she started high school and everything in her life changed.