Too Much Drama (5 page)

But not nearly enough answers.

If we did all the things we are capable of, we would literally astound ourselves.

—Thomas Edison

Saturday, December 13, 3:30 p.m.
Annoyed

Today Mom had to be at her store all day, and Dad took May to her soccer tournament, which meant I was stuck at home babysitting June. It shouldn't have been a big deal. The plan was that she would read while I studied for my Bio test. But June had other plans in mind. “We should bake Christmas cookies,” she said.

I don't love to bake, but it's better than studying Bio. “Sure,” I said.

So June and I congregated in the kitchen, and she read the recipe while I got out the ingredients and started mixing things together. We stirred red and green M&Ms into the dough, and I had just put the tray in the oven when my phone rang. It was Leo.

“I have to get this,” I told June.

“What about the cookies?” She looked alarmed.

“Don't worry,” I mouthed to her after I'd said hello to Leo. I walked to my room and shut my door. I hadn't spoken to Leo since Tuesday when I'd told him about the drama in dance and he'd said he wasn't good with girl talk. It wasn't our best talk, and I wanted this one to be better. “What's up?” I asked in a cheerful voice.

“I spent the morning slicing five pounds of ham, six pounds of turkey, and four pounds of roast beef,” he reported. Then he told me he has twelve days left of work, which means if he slices approximately fifteen pounds of meat each day, he will be retired from the deli business “in exactly one hundred and eighty pounds.”

“Of meat?” I asked.

“Of meat,” Leo confirmed.

I giggled. “What's it like slicing all that meat?” I asked Leo.

He cleared his throat and was talking in an authoritative sounding voice. “That depends on which meat you're talking about.”

I sat back on my bed and listened as Leo talked about the different slicing challenges inherent in ham and turkey. He'd just gotten to roast beef when June barged into my room. “April, the cookies are burning!” she said.

“I have to go!” I told Leo. I dropped my phone and raced to the kitchen, but it was too late. The Christmas cookies June and I had baked were black.

“Crap!” I said as I took the tray from the oven.

“You're not supposed to swear,” said June. She looked like she was about to cry.

“I'm sorry,” I said.

“About burning the cookies or swearing?” asked June.

“Both.”

“Can we make more?” June asked.

“Not now.” I told her. I really had to study. “Maybe Dad will help you bake some more when he gets back after the tournament.”

June seemed content to wait. But it was a mistake to tell her to wait for Dad to bake more, because when he got home, she told him that we baked cookies, and I let them burn.

“April, that's not like you to allow cookies to burn,” said Dad when he came into my room after June told him what happened. It was annoying that he'd decided to read into why I'd let the cookies burn.

“It wasn't a big deal,” I said glancing up at him from my textbook.

But Dad seemed to think it was a bigger deal than I was letting on. “Was there something on your mind?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Biology.” I didn't think I needed to share with him that it wasn't the only thing on my mind.

“April, I know you and Brynn have had some issues lately. You've been friends for a long time. Why don't you try talking to her?”

Dad paused like he was debating if he wanted to say more, but I beat him to the punch. I really didn't want to get into a whole conversation about Brynn with him. “Dad, I really need to study.”

“OK,” he said. “Focus on school.”

“I'm trying to,” I said. I was proud of myself for not saying that it would be a whole lot easier to do that if he'd stop trying to talk to me and go.

But before Dad left my room, he gave me a look. “April, I'm always here if you want to talk.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I appreciated that he wanted to help. There have been lots of times when talking to Dad has been helpful. But I didn't feel up to it today. I don't know if I was annoyed by the topic or by Dad's prying.

Probably a little of both.

Monday, December 15, 4:45 p.m.
Went to a study session
Didn't do much studying

It's exam week, and today was a study day. Since we didn't have to go to class, Billy, Sophie, and I decided we'd all study together for our English test tomorrow.

We met at Billy's house, and we were sitting at his kitchen table, studying our vocab words, but it was hard to focus.

We were trying to think up mnemonic devices to help us remember the meanings of words. Billy was great at it. When he grows up, it could be his job. He'd get rich quick thinking up funny ways to remember the definitions of words.

For
supercilious
, which means arrogant, he came up with super silly ass. (For which his mom called him by his full name and gave a disapproving look. “No, like a donkey!” he said, although I don't think his mom was convinced.)

For
remiss
, which means careless, he made “miss” jokes.
I missed what you said. I missed my bus. I'm so careless I missed dinner.
When he said the joke about missing dinner, he clutched his stomach and moaned like he really was hungry. Sophie literally collapsed into a heap of laughter, which made Billy laugh too. As I sat there watching, it was pretty obvious there's a lot of chemistry between them.

I'd be remiss not to notice.

How's that for a mnemonic?

Wednesday, December 17, 10:17 p.m.
Talked to Leo for an hour

Leo called tonight while I was studying. “I can't talk,” I said. “I have an Algebra test tomorrow.”

“I can help,” said Leo. “I love Algebra.”

“It's impossible to love it,” I said.

Leo laughed. “Algebra helps us understand and make sense of the unknown.”

“That makes no sense,” I said. Leo and I spent the next half hour debating the merits of Algebra, although I doubt that will help me on the test.

Once we'd said everything there was to say on the topic (at least in my opinion), somehow we started talking about the fact that he's leaving for college in less than three weeks. He told me about the classes he's taking and the dorm he'll be living in and about his roommate, who is from China. Then Christmas came up, which made me think about Brynn.

I told Leo that even though she's been a jerk for a while, I feel kind of sorry for her about the whole Billy thing. “She was my best friend for a long time,” I said. “It's the holidays, and I feel like I should try to reach out to her. I'm just not sure what to do. She's made it pretty clear that she doesn't want to be friends.”

“Why don't you invite her to yoga,” suggested Leo.

I smiled at the memory of the day Leo took me to yoga.

“I don't think it's Brynn's thing.” I paused. I was thinking about Leo, not Brynn. “I like that you always have a unique solution for things.”

“That's me,” said Leo. “Mr. Unique Solutions.”

I laughed. “I was being serious. You always have good ideas.”

“Are you surprised?” asked Leo. He sounded like he was offended.

“No, but you did say you're not good with girl issues.” I paused. “You seem pretty good to me.”

“I guess you never know what you're good at until you try,” said Leo.

Thursday, December 18, 4:40 p.m.

My last exam was today. It was Algebra, which I have with Brynn. My seat is right behind hers. When she came into the room, she sat down and never turned around. I finished my test early, and after I turned it in, I spent the rest of the time looking at the back of Brynn's head and wondering . . . What goes on inside it? I thought about what Dad said—that I should try to talk to her. But when the test ended, Brynn got up and walked out of the room. She never even looked at me.

What do you say to that?

Friday, December 19, 3:07 p.m.
Dance team holiday lunch

I just got home from Pizza Hut where the dance team met for lunch and to exchange Secret Santa gifts. Brynn had drawn Emily's name. I watched as Brynn gave Emily a spa bath set and then as Vanessa gave Brynn a Chia pet. There's no way Brynn would like that gift, but she acted like she did.

I could say a lot of negative things about Brynn, but one of her best qualities is that she loves giving and getting gifts. No matter what she gets, she's always gracious and happy about it. Brynn and I have always made a big deal over exchanging Christmas gifts, and it made me wonder if Brynn has even thought about getting me a gift this year. That's when it occurred to me that I hadn't gotten her anything, but I should. It was the solution I was looking for. It's probably bad holiday karma not to be speaking to your former-long-time best friend.

Even worse not to get them a gift.

The only way to have a friend is to be one.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Sunday, December 21, 10:02 p.m.
Gaga dropped a bomb

Gaga has done a lot of unexpected things over the years, so whenever she does what my Uncle Drew calls her “crazy thing,” I'm never all that surprised. But I was shocked tonight at dinner when she announced that she and Willy had booked a last-minute cruise and wouldn't be with us for Christmas. I wasn't the only one who was shocked. I thought my mom and her sisters might go into cardiac arrest at Gaga's dining room table.

“Mom, you can't leave us at Christmas,” said my mom. She sounded like a two-year-old.

“I already have tickets,” said Gaga.

“But Christmas together is our family tradition,” said my Aunt Lilly.

“And we always have it at
your
house,” said Aunt Lila. She made a face like she was a puppy that had been left outside in the rain.

Willy took Gaga's hand and gave it a squeeze. I guess they'd anticipated this reaction, and he was silently reminding her to be strong. “You will be just fine without me,” said Gaga.

Everyone stood there, speechless. Finally, my little cousin Izzy broke the silence. “Are you still going to give us presents?” she asked.

“Of course,” said Gaga. She smiled at Izzy and her twin, Charlotte, who were both started clapping and rambling on about how much they like presents.

Then she turned her attention to the grownups at the table who were all looking at one another like they had a real problem on their hands. “For goodness sakes,” said Gaga. “Your silence is worse than your screaming. Stop being so dramatic and eat your meatloaf.”

So we did. At least some of us did. Aunt Lila took a tiny bite and made a face like Gaga's news had killed her taste buds. Aunt Lilly used her napkin to wipe her forehead.

“She's premenopausal,” my cousin Harry announced to the table.

Amanda laughed out loud.

Aunt Lilly shot a stern look to both her kids. She told Harry that even though he's almost an adult, he wasn't acting like one, and that certain topics need to stay in the privacy of their home. She said we could do Christmas at her house, and she got up and went to the kitchen for a legal pad. When she came back, she started making her to-do list.

Christmas should be interesting this year.

Monday, December 22, 4:15 p.m.
Back from the mall

I rode my bike to the mall. I'd been debating all weekend about what to get Brynn, and I still couldn't decide. I didn't want it to be too personal or too impersonal. Just something nice to let her know she's still important enough to me to give her a Christmas present.

I also didn't want to pick it out with anyone else. Mom and Dad have both tried talking to me about what's going on with Brynn since the day Brynn screamed we weren't friends anymore. I know they're worried, but I just don't feel like talking to them about it, so I didn't want them to drive me there.

I didn't want Leo to go with me either. I'd already told him that I wanted to get her a present, and his suggestion was to take her to yoga. Even though he hasn't said it, I think he thinks all the drama with her is silly. But still, it's there, and I can't just ignore it.

And I didn't want Sophie to go with me. She's not a fan of Brynn. She'd probably want to know why I'd get Brynn a present after how she's treated me. She wouldn't be wrong. But Brynn and I have a history.

So I went by myself, and after a full day of shopping (I've never bought an ex-best friend a Christmas gift before), I got her cinnamon-scented bubble bath and body lotion. That sounds kind of anticlimactic, given how much thought I put into it. But Brynn loves bath products. And the smell of cinnamon.

I think it's perfect.

10:17 p.m.
Text from Sophie

Sophie: My dad comes tomorrow.

Me: Are you excited to see him?

Sophie: IDK.

Sophie: Kind of weird he's coming to Faraway.

Me: I'm sure it'll be fine.

Sophie: He's staying at the Faraway Inn.

Me: Might not be fine.

Sophie: Ha ha.

Sophie: Not what he's used to.

Me: They have an indoor pool.

Sophie: