worry,” I call out to SpongeBob. “I’ll rescue you in the morning.”
For the first time in days, I go to bed in a happy mood.
Chapter Ten
When morning comes, it takes the merest glance to see that no balloon rescue will be necessary. SpongeBob is waving happily from the center of my room, just like he always is. My parents’ gift cards are gone from my night table. My mood darkens. I turn off the alarm, and then rip the plug from the wall. I shove the balloon under the bed. I stomp into the bathroom and scrub my face. I stare hopelessly in the mirror. My pupils are so big I can barely see the green around the edges.
Crazy eyes.
Am I crazy? Maybe the whole fight with Leo finally pushed me over the edge and I’m actually locked up in a padded room somewhere, delusional, and unable to movepast my eleventh birthday. But even as I think it, I know that’s not true. I sit on the edge of the tub, my head in my hands.
“Are you almost done in there?” Kylie asks, pounding on the door.
I open it, and she squeezes past me, wearing the same pink T-shirt she’s worn for the past four days. It’s almost funny really, since Kylie refuses to wear the same clothes within three weeks of each other. If she only knew!
“You’d better get dressed,” she says. “We have to take the bus today.”
I grunt and head back to my room. Kylie’s door is closed now. It strikes me how differently the same day can go, depending on my choices. I don’t feel like going to the doctor again, so I might as well go to school.
I get dressed in my original birthday outfit, and head down for breakfast. Dad’s in his robe, drinking his tea. I almost change my mind and go hide under the covers, but he sees me lingering at the door.
“Happy birthday, honey!” he says, sneezing four times in a row.
I grunt.
“Hey, that’s no way to be on your birthday. You should be happy today.”
I shake the cereal too hard into my bowl and it spills everywhere.
He puts down his newspaper and comes over to me. “Are you okay, Amanda?”
I nod into my bowl, not looking up.
He sneezes a few times, then asks, “Did you like the balloon?”
I don’t trust myself to answer so I just nod again. Mom hurries in. “Hi, sweetie,” she says, kissing me on my head. “Feel any older?”
I grunt.
“I’ve gotta run,” she says, sticking a granola bar in the pocket of her blazer. “I’ll be home early to help you get ready.”
I open my mouth to tell her not to bother, that I’m not planning on having the party, but what would my excuse be? I nod miserably instead. She doesn’t seem to notice my despair. A minute later Kylie comes in. She grabs her lunch and runs out the door.
Yes! Lunch! Not gonna get me THIS time! I yank mybrown bag out of the fridge and stick it in my backpack. I toss in an extra juice box for good measure. I mumble to Dad that I hope he feels better, and run out to the bus stop.
When Kylie continues to ignore me, my bad mood worsens. I can still remember her laughing with me last night, even if she can’t. It almost felt like we were friends. Now it feels like she hates me again. “Just so you know,” I say snidely, “he’s sitting with her on the bus.”
Kylie turns to stare at me. “Who’s sitting with who?”
I bite my tongue. What was I thinking? “Never mind.”
She leans closer until I can smell her peppermint toothpaste. “Did you read my diary?”
I shake my head, but then figure, what the heck. What could she really do to me? “Okay, yes, I read it.”
Her eyes narrow at me. “When?”
“Um, this morning?” It was both a lie, and not a lie, at the same time. “You left your door open when you went running.”
“But you were in the bathroom the whole time.”
Okay, that’s true. “Trust me, I read it. And don’t bother to ask Dustin to the dance, he’s gonna say no.”
Her expression slackens. I’ve gone too far. I quickly try to backpedal. “I mean, it’s not worth it, he just
For the first time in days, I go to bed in a happy mood.
Chapter Ten
When morning comes, it takes the merest glance to see that no balloon rescue will be necessary. SpongeBob is waving happily from the center of my room, just like he always is. My parents’ gift cards are gone from my night table. My mood darkens. I turn off the alarm, and then rip the plug from the wall. I shove the balloon under the bed. I stomp into the bathroom and scrub my face. I stare hopelessly in the mirror. My pupils are so big I can barely see the green around the edges.
Crazy eyes.
Am I crazy? Maybe the whole fight with Leo finally pushed me over the edge and I’m actually locked up in a padded room somewhere, delusional, and unable to movepast my eleventh birthday. But even as I think it, I know that’s not true. I sit on the edge of the tub, my head in my hands.
“Are you almost done in there?” Kylie asks, pounding on the door.
I open it, and she squeezes past me, wearing the same pink T-shirt she’s worn for the past four days. It’s almost funny really, since Kylie refuses to wear the same clothes within three weeks of each other. If she only knew!
“You’d better get dressed,” she says. “We have to take the bus today.”
I grunt and head back to my room. Kylie’s door is closed now. It strikes me how differently the same day can go, depending on my choices. I don’t feel like going to the doctor again, so I might as well go to school.
I get dressed in my original birthday outfit, and head down for breakfast. Dad’s in his robe, drinking his tea. I almost change my mind and go hide under the covers, but he sees me lingering at the door.
“Happy birthday, honey!” he says, sneezing four times in a row.
I grunt.
“Hey, that’s no way to be on your birthday. You should be happy today.”
I shake the cereal too hard into my bowl and it spills everywhere.
He puts down his newspaper and comes over to me. “Are you okay, Amanda?”
I nod into my bowl, not looking up.
He sneezes a few times, then asks, “Did you like the balloon?”
I don’t trust myself to answer so I just nod again. Mom hurries in. “Hi, sweetie,” she says, kissing me on my head. “Feel any older?”
I grunt.
“I’ve gotta run,” she says, sticking a granola bar in the pocket of her blazer. “I’ll be home early to help you get ready.”
I open my mouth to tell her not to bother, that I’m not planning on having the party, but what would my excuse be? I nod miserably instead. She doesn’t seem to notice my despair. A minute later Kylie comes in. She grabs her lunch and runs out the door.
Yes! Lunch! Not gonna get me THIS time! I yank mybrown bag out of the fridge and stick it in my backpack. I toss in an extra juice box for good measure. I mumble to Dad that I hope he feels better, and run out to the bus stop.
When Kylie continues to ignore me, my bad mood worsens. I can still remember her laughing with me last night, even if she can’t. It almost felt like we were friends. Now it feels like she hates me again. “Just so you know,” I say snidely, “he’s sitting with her on the bus.”
Kylie turns to stare at me. “Who’s sitting with who?”
I bite my tongue. What was I thinking? “Never mind.”
She leans closer until I can smell her peppermint toothpaste. “Did you read my diary?”
I shake my head, but then figure, what the heck. What could she really do to me? “Okay, yes, I read it.”
Her eyes narrow at me. “When?”
“Um, this morning?” It was both a lie, and not a lie, at the same time. “You left your door open when you went running.”
“But you were in the bathroom the whole time.”
Okay, that’s true. “Trust me, I read it. And don’t bother to ask Dustin to the dance, he’s gonna say no.”
Her expression slackens. I’ve gone too far. I quickly try to backpedal. “I mean, it’s not worth it, he just
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