12

MOM STANDS IN FRONT OF ME WITH HER HANDS on her hips. “I’m going to see Grampa today and you’re coming with me. Enough sulking. Getting back on our feet is the only way to take the first steps forward.” It’s been three days and I’ve come up with one excuse after another for not going to Whispering Pines, and each day that passes I feel worse about it.

She walks into the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. That show you and Grampa love? It’s going to be at the Expo this year, same convention center, same weekend. Since the grand prize for the Expo is a spot on Top Table, and Collector’s Menagerie is on the same network, they’re using it as a promotional opportunity.”

“Really?” I ask. Grampa and I have always talked about going together, and for a minute the idea makes me forget everything that’s wrong.

“I’m taking it as a good sign, like Grampa will be there with me. That is, if I get in.” Mom smiles at me, then blows on her steaming coffee. The National Expo is the biggest stage there is for tablescapers. A win like that might make Mom explode. Or implode, because that’d be less mess and that’s more her style. Plus, a chance to be on TV. Mom is smiling to herself, maybe imagining her first close-up.

The ache in my throat comes back in full force and faster than usual. Suddenly, I feel like screaming that Grampa won’t be there with her at all, or with me. And fixing that is what we should be focused on, not her tables.

“So last night after you went to bed, I applied for tickets. I figured you and I could go whether I get into the Expo or not. Maybe you could take one of your glass baskets?”

Collector’s Menagerie is my and Grampa’s thing. I stare at her and then sigh. How can she think I’d go without him?

Mom frowns. “I thought you’d be more excited.”

“I’m just tired.” I wipe the sleep from my eyes as evidence. I can’t tell her what I really think. Besides, it’s not like Grampa could go, not now.

Since Mom has the morning off, she drives me to school. Before I get out, she leans over and kisses my forehead. “Think positive. We are strong, we are brave, and we will get through this. New challenges are often new opportunities,” she whispers. I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or herself.

When I get to Mrs. Kirkpatrick’s room, Ashley is already sitting at her desk. We haven’t spoken to each other much this week, and I’ve spent every lunch in the library. When I walk by, she doesn’t look at me or say good morning or anything at all.

The date on the board reminds me that it’s the end of September already. Ashley and I have always come up with costumes for Halloween early so we have plenty of time to work on our outfits. We’ve been salt and pepper shakers, Frog and Toad, and Peter Pan and Tinkerbell. I found the perfect pair of wings for her at the Tuesday Thrift; she still has them on the back of her desk chair in her room, at least she used to. Last year, we were Anne Shirley and Diana Barry. Mom even taught us to sew a seam, and we worked on the dresses together.

Anne of Green Gables is Ashley’s favorite book. She read it and then so did I, and we’d reenact scenes at the playground. We’d taken a solemn oath to be best friends forever, just like in the book. I think of Anne and how she’d never let Diana end their friendship. And I think about how if something isn’t working properly it shouldn’t just be thrown away. Everything deserves a chance to be salvaged.

“Hi,” I say.

Ashley doesn’t smile. I don’t either.

“Hi,” she says back.

Last year, she’d call almost every evening even though we’d just seen each other that day at school. And we’d talk and talk about nothing. Mom would laugh and say, “What else can you two possibly have to say?” Now, I can’t think of anything other than hi. Actually, that’s not true. I have questions. Like why doesn’t she like me as much anymore? What did I do wrong? How could she really like Farrah? I can’t ask any of that.

But “hi” is a start.

That’s thinking positive.

I spend most of the morning keeping my thoughts from turning negative. It’s hard work. When we have free time, I decide to use one of the class computers to see what I missed on Collector’s Menagerie. That’ll give me something to talk to Grampa about tonight. There’re no surprises until I scroll down to the “Appraiser’s Showcase.” A little wooden horse carved by Peter Brubacher appraised for twenty-two thousand dollars.

A wooden carving for twenty-two thousand dollars!

At first, that little bit of information feels like a gift. But by lunchtime I wonder if I should tell Grampa or not. Maybe it’ll make him sadder to know he missed our favorite show together. Maybe it’ll remind him of how things used to be. Maybe it’ll make him worry that nothing will be the same again, and that the things that once made us happy now make us sad.

I go to the line for school lunch and look for Ashley to line up with me like she used to. Kids file past me, finding their friends in line. And then I see her holding a new pink lunch box. She walks right past the line, passes me, and heads toward our table, where Farrah already sits. She waves, so there’s that at least.

I get my tray. It’s vegetable soup day. I hate vegetable soup day.

Farrah starts talking to me before I can set my tray down. “Hey, Mae. So, Ash and I are thinking of dressing as characters from this show called RockStarz for the Fall Festival.”

Hearing half of Grampa’s nickname for me come out of Farah’s mouth makes me freeze. Plus, they’ve planned Halloween costumes without me, and I have no idea what show she’s talking about. I’ve spent lunch in the library for a few days, and now they’ve ruined something else. Thinking positive is impossible.

I look at Ashley, and she just smiles and says, “It’s this group of kids in a band and they’re all named after stars.”

“I’m going as Vega. Maybe you could be… I don’t know. What about Rigel? She’s the serious one.” The way Farrah says “serious” shows she really means boring.

“I’m going as Polaris. She has blue hair,” Ashley says, then looks at me and shrugs, like she can tell I’m disappointed but, oh well, things change. “I think you’d like it. There’s even lots of puns. Like they’re called the Neptunes. And they say ‘Let’s rock-et’ before they play. Get it?”

Oh, I get it. While I’ve been missing my favorite show with Grampa, these two have found their own favorite thing to share.

I feel like saying:

Are you Sirius?

That sounds universally ridiculous.

And this sucks like a black hole.

Okay, that last one isn’t really a pun and uses a word I’m not supposed to say, but it’s accurate.

I feel like saying lots of other things to Ashley that don’t involve puns but do involve a whole lot of bad words. Instead I nod, choke down a bit of vegetable soup, and say, “Sure.”

I look over and see Jasper sitting at table 4 with McKenna and some other kids. He waves and I wave back. Farrah whips her head around. “How do you know the new kid?”

“His mom is my grampa’s speech therapist,” I say.

“So, you’re like friends with him?” Farrah asks.

“Like ‘good friends’?” Ashley adds. Farrah cracks up.

I say, “Just regular friends.”

“Sure,” Farrah says, and they both laugh this time. “I heard he’s from Chicago.” She says this like it’s a big deal. I struggle to get down another mouthful of lukewarm soup and don’t look toward Jasper’s table again.

When lunch is over I go to the library for our free conference period. McKenna and I are supposed to meet and work out a plan for our Rube Goldberg machine. We have to draw a design, list out the items we think we’ll need, and then Mrs. Kirkpatrick has to approve it.

I decide to look and see if I can find a book on chain-reaction machines, and while I’m wandering the nonfiction aisle, Farrah and Ashley come in and sit at a round table by the magazines. Lunch was awkward, but I decide to step out and wave when I overhear Farrah.

“I’m sorry but does she really dig through the trash with her grampa?” Farrah asks, and then laughs. Ashley laughs too. Not her wild, snorty laugh, but a new fake, controlled one. I hate it. But what I hate more is that I hope since she didn’t use her real laugh that maybe she doesn’t mean it.

When I walk out of the row, I hold my head high and go toward a table across the room. Thankfully, McKenna walks in with Jasper as soon as I sit.

Jasper smiles. “I have the same assignment from Mrs. Kirkpatrick, third period.”

McKenna is already making a list. “We need things like train tracks, or tubing. Sometimes the whole machine is mounted on plywood or pegboard or inside a sturdy box. An iron—something that produces heat might be cool.”

“My grampa has some of that stuff, pegboard and plywood for sure,” I say, and pretend not to notice Ashley whip around when she hears my voice.

“Or maybe that’s part of our next mission,” Jasper says. McKenna’s face crinkles up in confusion. “Mabel and her grampa go on these scavenging hunts, and she took me on one. It was awesome, but we could look for some of this stuff too?”

“That’d be great. Think you could find a toaster?” McKenna asks while I nod.

“He already has at least two toasters,” I say.

“What if that’s our end goal? Pushing down the toaster’s lever. We might need to have something pretty heavy fall to have enough force to turn it on,” McKenna says.

“He also has at least two bowling balls,” I say.

McKenna and Jasper laugh. We spend the rest of the period planning, and I don’t look over when Farrah and Ashley leave the room.

The whole afternoon, I think about how differently Jasper and McKenna reacted to my and Grampa’s hunts. On the bus I don’t sit across from Ashley and Farrah. I decide to go to the back, and Jasper and McKenna sit by me. But every time I think about what Farrah said and how Ashley laughed, it hurts.

When I get home, I sit and stare at my phone. Today, I have to bike to Grampa’s, pick up the wagon, and then ride over to Archie’s.

Until recently, Grampa and I always visited Archie at least once a week, and it feels like I have to go today, like if I don’t go, I’m giving up one more piece of Grampa. Plus, I have a business proposition to make. But I don’t want to go alone.

I pick up my phone, call to make sure Archie’s open, and then text Jasper.