“HELP ME, Birdie,” Zora whines. “Let’s go get my bike.”
“No,” I say with my sternest big sister voice. “You are not bike racing!”
“Come on. Please!”
We’re standing on our street, up the hill by Connor’s house. It seems like all the neighborhood kids have gathered here this morning to race their bikes. Gainsborough Drive is pretty steep at this part but flattens out at the bottom in front of my house. Most of the racing kids are wearing helmets, and the boys are taking turns looking out for cars, but still, it’s pretty dumb. And even if she were an excellent rider, Zora is way too young.
“Go play.” I point to some of the younger kids playing in Connor’s front yard. Zora crosses her arms against her chest stubbornly. “Come on. Just be a kid for once.” I know I sound exasperated, but I so don’t want to be on Zora duty right now.
Across the street, Rose is talking with Romeo. She’s flirting with him. I can tell by the way she smiles and flips her hair.
I haven’t told her yet. It’s been four days since Ally found out about Romeo and me, and I still haven’t told Rose. After putting it off for three days, I promised Ally I would do it last night.
So after dinner, I walked to Rose’s house. I took the long way—up Chancery Lane, around Queen’s Way, and back down Gainsborough Drive. The whole time, I looked at houses, especially the older ones, comparing them to Girl Detective’s photo. I’ve studied this photo so many times over the past few days it’s becoming emblazoned in my brain. The house was made of brick—I imagine red brick, but I can’t be sure because it’s in black-and-white. There were eight windows. Three little trees. One chimney. Walking along, I examined house after house. Some came close to matching but when I’d hold up the photo to compare, the trees would be in different places. Or the chimney was sitting on the wrong side of the roof. Or the windows … too many or too few. It was good to search, even though I couldn’t find it. The searching kept my mind from other things. Like telling Rose.
Finally, I found myself standing on Rose’s front porch where I rang the doorbell and waited. It was the first time in my life I rang Rose’s bell and wished she wasn’t home. No luck. She opened the door almost immediately and pulled me inside. “This is hilarious. Come see.”
I joined Rose, her mom, and Simon at the kitchen table where Simon was showing them a video of his friend Teddy making a fool of himself over a girl. He was singing her this song and playing the ukulele. He can’t really play, and he’s a horrible singer. I mean he can’t hit a note. The camera zoomed in on the girl, who was staring at him like he had a communicable disease or something. Of course, somebody posted it on YouTube. It was silly and embarrassing but really funny. Even Mrs. Ashcroft was laughing.
When it ended, Rose’s mom wiped her eye with a tissue. “That poor boy,” she said, then looked at me. “Can I get you some pudding, love?”
“Yes, please.” Pudding means dessert in England, and Rose’s mom makes excellent pudding.
As I sat down at the table, she went to the counter. “I feel so bad for Teddy. I really do.”
“You laughed, Mum!” Simon said.
“Oh, I shouldn’t have.”
“Yes, you should have,” Rose said. “It was so funny!” And then she actually grinned at her mother.
And her mom grinned back.
After all the yelling and stink bombing and violin burning, they were actually looking at each other like they hadn’t for a very long time. Maybe it was because the violin was gone. Or maybe they called a secret truce. Whatever it was, I didn’t care. It was a beautiful thing and I wished I had my Polaroid camera so I could capture the moment forever. As Mrs. Ashcroft placed her beautiful toffee cake and custard creation before me, I watched, mesmerized, as they were being happy.
I just couldn’t tell Rose at a moment like that.
“No way!” Connor’s yelling brings me back to our street, back to the bike racing. I turn and see him pointing at Moses, this daredevil kid who lives up on Queen’s Way.
“What kind of derpy thing is that?!”
Moses is pushing this weird bike up the street. It has a small front wheel and a big back one, a banana seat, and uneven handlebars. He flips his shades to the top of his head. “You just don’t know bikes, Gomez.”
“Right. I don’t know bikes,” Connor says. “Whatever.”
Moses sits on the Frankenstein bike and pushes off. Everyone watches as he picks up speed and flies down the hill. The front wheel starts wobbling but Moses holds it together. He comes to a skidding stop in front of my house, turns around, and pumps his arms.
“What a maniac.”
I turn to see Ally beside me, straddling her bike. “Yeah,” I say. For a quiet, awkward moment, we watch Moses push his bike back up the hill.
“You didn’t tell her, did you?”
My shoulders drop. “I couldn’t,” I confess.
“Birdie!”
“Shhh. Come over here.” I walk over to Connor’s side yard, away from everybody else. Ally follows and rests her bike against a tree. Her hands find her hips and she stares at me like I’ve committed a crime.
“Don’t look at me that way,” I say guiltily.
“How else am I supposed to look at you?” She turns to Rose. “Look at her! Flirting with Romeo. This is so uncool.”
“I just … last night Rose and her mom were really getting along. They were happy. I was going to tell her. Really. I was. But I just couldn’t ruin it.”
She counts off on her fingers. “Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday. This is Wednesday. You’re going to Chicago on Friday. What the heck, Bird?”
She never calls me Bird. Only Rose does that.
“You’re always the one to tell me and Rose how to be,” she says. “To be better and kinder and all that. Most of the time it’s annoying but deep down, sometimes I’m glad you’re like that. Because who else would tell me? I might be a holy horror if it weren’t for you.”
“Really?” I say, genuinely surprised.
“Yeah, but don’t look happy! Because you’re ruining it now. You won’t even listen to me and you really have to. You have to!”
Rose is approaching. I see her coming from behind Ally. When Ally turns and sees her, she says it one more time. “You have to.”
“Have to what?” Rose asks.
Ally stares at me mutely.
“Have to what, Bird?” Rose asks again. “What is it?”
“I have something to tell you,” I say and my mouth goes dry.
“What?” She eyeballs the both of us. “What’s with the serious?”
“It is serious,” I say. “I didn’t tell you something.”
“Well, unless you murdered somebody, we’re probably okay.”
“No, we’re not,” I say. “We’re not okay. I need to tell—”
“Birdie!” It’s Zora, marching toward me, a crooked frown across her face. “Come on. I’m bored. If we’re not riding bikes, let’s go home!” She grabs my hand and pulls. I shake her off. Harder than I have to.
“Cut it out, Zora!” I say, too harshly. “Give me a minute, okay?”
I can tell that Zora’s hurt but she’s mad, too. “No! I want to go home now!”
“Please! Just go play! Five minutes!”
She stares at me, in the same way that Ally’s been staring at me, like I’m a terrible person, and I just can’t take it. “Go!” I yell and point to other side of Connor’s yard.
Her lips narrow to a single line and she walks away. “What is up, Bird?” Rose says. “That wasn’t cool.”
“Nothing’s cool!” I blurt out. “I’m a sucky friend and I’m really sorry.” I seek out Rose’s eyes and say, “Romeo doesn’t like you, Rose. He likes me. He’s liked me since Valentine’s Day.”
A hush descends upon our circle and I’m finding it hard to breathe. I watch Rose’s face go pale as the news seeps into her skin and poisons her heart. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she finally utters.
“I should have. I’m so sorry.”
“Oh my gosh, I feel like such an idiot.” Her eyes shift to Romeo and her face goes red. “How could you let me be such a … oh my gosh. Bird.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You lied to me.”
“I didn’t mean to.” Our eyes lock. I can’t look away. I’m afraid if I break our gaze, she’ll never look at me again.
“Birdie!” It’s Romeo’s voice but I don’t turn to him. I don’t dare.
Ally grabs my arm. “Birdie!”
“What?!” My eyes reluctantly shift to Ally.
“Zora!” She’s pointing toward the hill and for one long ridiculous moment, we are frozen in place, watching, as Zora starts rolling down the hill on Moses’s Frankenstein bike.
“Zora!” I scream. “Zora, stop!”
But she doesn’t. She actually pumps the pedals, making the bike go faster.
Everyone on the hill goes silent except for Moses, who calls out, “Hey, kid! Get off my bike!”
I want to blame him. Why did Moses leave his bike on the side of the road where Zora could get it? Why didn’t one of the boys stop her?
I’m running now. Zora has stopped pedaling but the bike is accelerating anyway. Gaining speed. She’s going too fast. The front wheel starts wobbling.
“Zora!” I yell and run as fast as I’ve ever run down the hill behind her. “Hold on!” And I realize she doesn’t even have a helmet on.
As if in slow motion, Zora looks back at me. Her frightened face. I am a terrible sister. I would do anything to change this. But it’s too late for that.
As Ally zooms past me, I watch the front wheel of the bike turn sideways and collapse. The Frankenstein bike bucks Zora off like it’s a real live bronco. She’s really flying now. I hear her scream before she lands headfirst on the asphalt.
“Zora!”
Ally gets there first. But I’m right behind her. “Go get Dad!” I yell. “Hurry!”
As Ally runs off, I kneel next to my sister, the bike in pieces behind us. There’s blood on her head.
Gently, I put her head in my lap. “Zora, can you hear me?” She doesn’t say anything. Her eyes are closed. A car approaches and stops in front of us. “Are you kids all right?” a grown-up voice calls out.
“Zora, speak to me. Please,” I beg. “Please be okay.”