fifty-two
Mrs. Tanglewood drove us to school the next day. I could tell she just didn’t know what to say to the girl who had run away with her daughter. Who was staying in her guest room. Who hadn’t stopped sleeping since she arrived.
I just sat in the backseat and watched as Mrs. Tanglewood sat as far left as she could in the driver’s seat. And Mace sat as far right as she could in shotgun. Though I had a feeling Mrs. Tanglewood never called it shotgun.
When we got to school, I was lost. I didn’t know what to do. I kept forgetting and wanting to follow the Recipe for Success again, but I wasn’t that person anymore. I wasn’t Galileo or Leia or G-Girl. I wasn’t anyone.
And if I didn’t know who I was, how was I supposed to know what Recipe to follow?
I sat in the front row in English, concentrating on Mr. McGuire the entire time. Pretending not to see Trip rushing out with his head turned away from me when class ended. I wasn’t sure what to do when I saw Billy heading in my direction, but Mace was there. She leaned across the aisle casually, blocking him and asking about homework till I got away. I was so grateful, I forgot to be surprised.
At lunchtime, I tried to walk into the cafeteria with my chin up, but I turned back and ran. I hid in the girls’ room for the rest of the hour and ended up not even eating lunch. But the gnawing in my stomach was nothing compared to the empty aching in my chest.
The next morning, I got the nerve to find Mr. McGuire in the teachers’ lounge before class started and asked if I could use his classroom during lunch. I told him I needed the quiet time to catch up and that I’d eat my lunch and not make a mess. He didn’t ask where I’d been or why I was behind. He just nodded and gave me a pat on the back.
I didn’t have to worry about the cafeteria, because Mace had handed me a lunch that her mom had made. It was super-healthy-looking and pretty, too. A turkey sandwich with avocado and sprouts and some kind of yummy spread on bread with all these seeds in it. Wrapped in nice paper like it was from a sandwich shop. It was delicious. At least, the few bites I was able to force down were. I tried not to think about DiDi at home. Maybe making lunch for me and then remembering that I wasn’t there. And Mace didn’t say a word about me not going to the cafeteria. It’s not like we really talked that much. We rode to school together with her mom, who had nothing to say, either. Mace and I looked at each other when we arrived. And then went our own way.
Mr. McGuire came into his classroom while I was staring and not eating. He nodded at me, then pulled out his own lunch and a bunch of papers and got to work at his desk. I tried not to look. To check and see if they were everyone’s Truth poems. Mine was late. Before this week, I’d never handed in anything late in my life. I hadn’t even started my poem. The truth was just too hard to think about.
Mr. McGuire came the next day, too. Not saying a word. Just nodding and going to work. I heard extra footsteps behind his and looked up to find Haven and Allie just kind of standing there in the doorway, looking nervous. Our eyes met and they both came rushing in.
They ran up to me and then stopped. Haven was biting her lip and Allie was looking like if she had Banky just then, he’d probably be wrapped around her head three times and tied up in the biggest knot ever.
“Are you—are you okay?” Haven said. “I mean—we don’t even know what hap—”
We all glanced at Mr. McGuire, but he had settled down at his desk, busy working.
“We care about you,” said Allie. “Having you join Stargazers was the best thing that happened this year.…”
“And it’s not just Stargazers,” said Haven. “It was… you know… hanging out… becoming friends.”
Allie nodded and looked at me. “Anyway… we’re having a meeting now. If you…?”
Haven nudged her. “You don’t have to, but if you want. If you feel like it…”
I shook my head. Eyes full. Then pretended to go back to work. The Stargazers. I didn’t belong. I wasn’t named after a famous scientist, and the star on my forehead wasn’t a sign proclaiming my great destiny. It was a mark that I was someone who had been pushed away.
I heard the girls shuffle over to Mr. McGuire. They started the meeting, talking in soft voices. I kept telling my feet to just get up and walk out, but I didn’t know where to go. I couldn’t stay in the girls’ room for the rest of lunch, and I refused to go into the cafeteria. The nurse’s office? Maybe. I had started to gather my things when I overheard part of the conversation.
“But why does it have to be now? Can’t we just wait a couple of weeks, until… you know?” Haven’s voice trailed off. I glanced up and saw her looking over at me.
“Not much we can do about it, ladies,” Mr. McGuire said. “Sadly, meteor showers are just outside my powers of influence.”
“Wait, I thought they were called shooting stars,” Allie said. “Meteor showers sounds kind of like”—she made a face—“meatier showers? Ew.”
“Okay,” said Mr. McGuire. “Quick review. Shooting stars and meteors are the same things—bits of cosmic debris that leave the comet they came from to go on and form their own blazing path. It may seem like a random occurrence, but I think it a noble task.”
I had stopped putting my things away and was listening to Mr. McGuire as hard as I could. “Think of it this way: In the end, whether you call them shooting stars or meteors, just like everything else in this universe, they have their time and their chance to show up—and, if they’re lucky, a few people willing to witness their shining moment. And what more do you need than the right few people?” Mr. McGuire’s voice grew soft. “So, my drifting bits of celestial debris, are you going to sputter out? Or grab your turn and blaze through the sky? That’s the real question. And that’s the truth”—I looked up and saw that even though he was talking to the girls, something about Mr. McGuire’s kind smile seemed to be meant for me—“about shooting stars.”
I got up and made my way over to his desk. I opened my mouth to say something. Maybe that I wanted back in.
Maybe that I missed my friends.
Maybe that I didn’t want to lose my moment, either.
But before I could say any of those things, I was smothered by the four arms of Haven and Allie. And I realized I didn’t have to say anything.
Pick Me Up
Now, I heard that in fancy restaurants, they serve you something like a dessert in the middle of the meal and they just call it a Refresher. It’s supposed to cleanse your palate and make you forget everything you already ate so you can get all ready for the next course.
• 6 cups of fresh watermelon chunks, frozen
• 3 scoops of lemon sherbet
• 1½ cups water
• Juice from 1 lemon
• Mint leaves for garnish
Throw everything except the mint leaves in your blender and whip it up.
Pour into a 9-by-13-inch baking dish and freeze for an hour, or till it’s nice and icy.
If you have a fancy glass, I think a scoop of this would be real pretty served in it. And you know what? Why don’t you stick a little mint leaf on there, too!
Light, refreshing, and not too sweet. Just a little something to get you ready when you know there’s still plenty more to come.
Serves 8–10.