I let it out. One elephant . . . two fear . . .
Granddad should just go with Meg. He’d probably love that. She’d probably love that. They could go together, and I could sit alone in my room watching LumberLegs like I’ve done so many times before.
Except I don’t want that. I don’t want to be left behind and forgotten about. Don’t want to never leave the house because I’m too afraid. Don’t want to fail our science project because I can’t talk to people. Meg laughs at something Granddad says, and I scowl, but neither of them notices. I’m already being left behind.
Would it really be so bad to go to this party? I wouldn’t have to talk to people there, just be around them. It’s a baby step, really. If I can just be around hordes of people, then maybe I’ll be able to test hordes of people for our project when the time comes. Maybe I’ll be able to stop being a disappointment.
Meg and Granddad won’t need to understand me if I can just keep up with them. And I’m a capable, competent person; I should be able to keep up with them.
Seven baby steps . . . eight bravery . . .
“Fine, I’ll go,” I spit out, interrupting them.
Meg stops the pop-and-lock dance move she’s showing off to Granddad and spins toward me, beaming. “Really?”
No, not really, I want to say. No way in hell. No way in the badlands. No way in an epic rift of doom. But with both of them grinning proudly at me—proud of me for being brave, for being adventurous, for being more like them—there’s no way to back out.
Meg and I are going to a party.
MEG
I CRANK THE VOLUME ON MY SPEAKERS AND LEAP ONTO MY BED. THE MUSIC acts like a duck call; Kenzie comes flapping into the room and hops up beside me. I twirl her around and we leap, spin, and head pound around the room together.
I’ve already showered and scrunched styler into my hair and hung upside down off my bed while diffusing it and dressed and put on my makeup for tonight’s party, which means I should probably sit quietly with my ankles crossed until it’s go time. But screw that.
Droplets of sweat gather in my armpits. Thankfully, the sleeves of the hugely oversized green shirt I’m wearing over black leggings are too big and flowy to get noticeable pit stains. I texted Kat pictures of all my different outfit options yesterday, and this is the one she picked. Well, actually, she picked a different one, but I vetoed that one, and this was her second pick.
Aside from outfit choices, I tried not to bring up the party too much this week, because Kat’s already-pale face gets even paler every time I mention it, but yesterday, Grayson waved at me again from across the caf, and then, admittedly, I couldn’t really talk about anything else all day. Kat will be fine, though—more than fine; she’ll have an epic time. We’ll dance together, and then I’ll introduce her to Grayson, and then we’ll all dance together, and she’ll loosen up so much that we might even scope out a cute guy for her to say hello to.
My phone roars its Chewbacca cry. Speak of the devil—or the Wookiee or whatever.
I can’t make it. Sorry.
Ha-ha, funny. I tap out my response.
lol good try, see u soon
I know she’s a bit nervous, but I also know she won’t stand me up like Lindsey used to. Kat’s dependable that way. And she has nothing to be nervous about, because she’ll be with me. BFFs together forever. I stick my pinkie up in the air. “I promise I won’t leave your side for any reason whatsoever. Pinkie swear.”
Kenzie yanks at my leggings. “Who’re you talking to?”
“Invisible Kat,” I say.
“Oh,” she says, as if this makes perfect sense, then continues her own special version of headbanging—ducking her head down between her knees, curls hanging almost to the floor, before whipping up so quickly she almost throws herself backward.
My palms are sweating, but I’m not sure if it’s from dancing, nervousness, or excitement. I can’t wait for Kat to meet him, not just have him pointed out from across the room. I want her to tell me if he likes me or if I’m reading it all wrong.
I pick up Kenzie and twirl her around so fast the giggles burst out of her like a sneeze. A rainbow sneeze. I set her back down and she wobbles on her feet like a little drunken woman. Or squirrel. I wonder what squirrels would be like drunk. Now that would be an interesting science project thingy.
“When’s Princess Kat coming?” Kenzie asks.
“Soon.” I check my phone. No texts. She should be here by now, should have been here a while ago, actually. “She’s not coming to play with you, though. We’re going out.” If she ever gets here. I message her again.
dude where are u?!!?!?
Kenzie sticks out her lip and puts her hand on her hip in a queen-of-brat pose that she definitely did not learn from me. I pat her on the head with one hand and dial Kat’s number with the other. It rings. And rings and rings. Then her boring, automated voice mail. “You have reached 780-5 . . .” I hang up, then try again. Still nothing.
I try another message.
Kat?!?!?
Nothing. I call again, and then again. Nothing and more nothing.
I flip through my text log and stare at her original message:
I can’t make it. Sorry.
Mom ducks her head through my doorway. “Meg, what time is Kat coming?” Her voice is more high-pitched than usual. A stray curl sticks out at the back of her neck. Did it come loose from her bun, or did she miss it when she put her hair up in the first place?
“I—I don’t think she is,” I say. “I mean, she was supposed to be coming, but now she’s not. I guess.”
“You’re not going out, then? That’s a relief. You can watch Kenzie and Nolan. I’ve got to pop over to your aunt’s. Teddy’s having another seizure.”
“No, Mom, I—”
She’s gone, though, before I can even figure out how I want to protest. “Kenzie, Nolan—Meg’s in charge,” she calls, already somewhere far away—probably at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going to help with your cousin. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
And then I’m stuck at home. In my bedroom. Alone. Looking after two miniature monsters. Not dancing. Not drinking. Not making out with Boxer Boy. The outfit we spent hours deciding on, the wave from across the cafeteria that made my heart race all day—all for nothing.
And all for nothing why? I don’t get it. Why isn’t she coming? Why would she abandon me like that? Without any explanation. Just like Lindsey. And Brad’s friends. Why does everyone end up being the same?
Why do I somehow always end up alone?
I drop my phone on the floor, kick it across the room, then flop down on my bed and start on what is now officially my most exciting activity of the evening—staring at the ceiling.
CHAPTER 7
KAT