Can You Say Catastrophe? (7 page)

Don't tell me the moon is shining. Show me the glint of light on broken glass.

—Anton Chekov

Tuesday, July 9, 5:45 P.M.
Key Largo, Florida
In a hammock
On the beach

I can't believe we've been snorkeling in the Florida Keys for the last four days. And what I really can't believe is that we have to go home tomorrow.

It's too bad because I like it here.

I'd like it a whole lot more if Dad would stop saying annoying stuff like, “It's so nice to have the old April back.” And, “I knew this trip was a good idea.”

But whatever. I'd never snorkeled before this trip, and it's definitely one of the coolest things I've ever done. If I was old enough to drive (and if I had a car), I'd get a bumper sticker that says I LOVE SNORKELING.

The first day we got here, Mom and Dad bought us a bunch of equipment for snorkeling. Masks. Snorkels. Fins. Mom made a video of May and June and me trying out our equipment on the beach. I knew we looked funny walking around like we couldn't find the ocean, but I didn't care. I put on the fins and mask and pretended like I was a sea monster and chased June around the beach. She was laughing so hard. It was really funny.

Once we got the hang of how the equipment worked, we practiced snorkeling in shallow water. We learned how to breathe through the snorkel and float on our stomachs with fins on.

Then we practiced diving under the surface of the water. We started off still in shallow water. You could see fish and plants under the water that you would never know existed if you hadn't looked under the surface. But snorkeling near the shore couldn't compare to the snorkeling we did during the rest of the trip.

For the last three days, we've gotten to go on snorkel boats and explore the only living coral barrier reef in North America.

The first day we went, the boat captain gave us a quick course on what to do. He gave us some rules: Don't feed the fish. Don't touch the coral. If you see sea turtles or dolphins, don't touch them.

Then he taught us some hand signals to use under water. Stuff like: I've had enough and I'm doing fine.

He said we'd also be doing a lot of signaling for other people to take a look at the cool stuff we'd be seeing. And he was right. What I've seen under water is so completely cool—tons of tropical coral formations, and underwater plants, and all kinds of colorful fish.

Our boat captain told us we were seeing the third largest coral reef in the world, and that the corals had been there for 5,000 to 7,000 years.

When I was in St. Augustine, I didn't like looking at things that were hundreds of years old. Change of opinion: old stuff can be pretty cool after all.

Seeing everything underwater was amazing, but the best part about being under the surface of the ocean was how it felt to be part of an underwater world that I never knew existed. It seemed incredible that I spend every day at school, in my room, hanging out with my friends … while there's a whole other world filled with things that had been there for thousands of years that I didn't know about before this trip.

This sounds weird, but snorkeling made me think that the world is full of things I don't know about yet. Things I've never thought about before or even known to think about. And just realizing that made me happy. Everything underwater was so quiet and relaxing and beautiful. I felt like I could have stayed down there just looking at the fish and corals forever.

But as Dad said, all good things must end.

And that's exactly what's happening tomorrow.

Hi-ho, hi-ho. Back to Faraway we go.

I never thought I'd say this (and I certainly wouldn't say it to my parents), but this trip has been pretty good.

10:30 P.M.

The other thing I've done a lot of on this trip besides snorkeling is eating key lime pie. It's my new favorite food (right up there with s'mores). Dad likes it too. He's taking home a bag of key limes, and he's going to find a recipe so he can start to serve key lime pie at the Love Doctor Diner.

Who knows? I just might start wanting to eat there.

Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.

—Dr. Seuss

Thursday, July 11, 3:45 P.M.
An unopened letter in my hand
Lots of unanswered questions in my head

Going away with my family turned out to be good in ways I hadn't imagined. It made me forget about all the things I was stressing about before the trip.

Kissing Billy. Kissing Matt. Telling Brynn. Fighting with Billy. Wondering if Matt likes me. Trying to figure out how I feel about Matt. Trying to figure out how I feel about Billy. Hoping Brynn isn't getting together with Billy at camp while I'm at home.

That's all I thought about before we left. But during the trip, at least after the first few days, all I thought about were water parks, roller coasters, and tropical fish. It kind of felt like a relief to leave my normal life behind and do things like eat Jelly Bellies in the hallway of a hotel with my sisters.

But it's weird now, because the minute Mom handed me the letter I got from Brynn while I was gone, it's like I never left.

I'm a little scared to open her letter. I feel like the minute I do, I'm going to find out things I'm not sure I want to know. Things like: Are Billy and Brynn having fun together without me at camp? Did Brynn tell Billy what happened with Matt? She swore she wouldn't, but did they bond over a campfire and start talking? Are Brynn and Billy a couple? Are we still the Three Musketeers, or are they now two Reese's Peanut Butter Cups who belong in the same package, and I'm the lone Hershey Bar?

I guess it's time to find out.

4:07 P.M.

The only thing I found out was who won the color war.

Reading a letter that doesn't tell you what you want to know, even if you weren't sure you wanted to know it, is worse than reading no letter at all. It makes you sure you want to know what you weren't sure you wanted to know. AND I WANT TO KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON AT CAMP SILVER SHORES!

Billy and Brynn don't come home until Saturday, and I don't know how I'm going to be able to wait until then to find out.

4:23 P.M.

Mom is doing the laundry. May and June are watching TV. Dad went to the diner. All I'm doing is sitting here wondering what my friends are doing.

I have to find something else to do.

4:49 P.M.

I'm going to walk Gilligan. It's not what I want to do, but it's the only thing I can think to do. I hope walking Gilligan will help me stop wondering what my friends are doing.

5:08 P.M.

OMG! I'm back from walking Gilligan, and I'm wondering so many more things than I was wondering before I went on the walk and saw Matt Parker.

He didn't see me, because I hid behind some trees in Dr. Blackwell's yard. But I saw him, and he wasn't alone. He was with Jillian Diamond, eighth-grade drama queen, both on the stage and off. I could hear them laughing, and he was giving her a piggy back ride. No joke. She was on his back with her arms and legs wrapped around him. Even though I was hiding, I could see that her boobs (which are big enough for me to see from behind Dr. Blackwell's magnolia tree) were pressed against his back while he gave her a piggyback ride. My heart was racing.

All I can say is, thank you, Dr. Blackwell, for having a yard full of trees. I would have died if they'd seen me see them.

The one good thing about seeing them was that it made me stop wondering how I feel about Matt. It doesn't matter how I feel about him, because seeing him with Jillian on his back made it clear how he feels about me.

He doesn't.

But it did make me wonder a whole lot of other things, and most of those things are about Billy. Did he kiss me because he likes me as more than just a friend? And if he did feel that way, does he still? Or is he mad at me because he thinks he can't trust me and now he feels that way about Brynn? And why do I suddenly feel like I like Billy as more than just a friend after seeing Matt with Jillian? Is it because I really like him or because I know Matt doesn't like me or because I'm worried that Brynn and Billy will be more than friends and I don't know where that leaves me?

I have so many questions. What I need are answers. I just don't know where to find them.

5:34 P.M.

May and June just asked me if I'd play Go Fish with them, but Mom said I couldn't play with them because Dad needs my help at the diner. She said one of Dad's waitresses went home sick and he needs me to pitch in. It beats sitting around and thinking about all my unanswered questions while playing Go Fish.

9:32 P.M.
Just back from The Love Doctor Diner
Found some answers

Waiting on tables all night was exhausting, but worth it because of what happened after I was done. When I was wiping up the counter, Dad said I looked really happy when we came home from the trip, but that I didn't look quite as happy now. He asked me if there was anything I wanted to talk about. There were lots of things I wanted to talk about—I just wasn't sure I wanted to talk about any of them with Dad.

But Dad brought two different key lime pies he had made over to the counter and asked me if I would do a taste test with him to pick which recipe I liked better. So we sat down together, and he cut into the first pie and put a slice on a plate. Dad handed me a fork and told me to dig in.

I told Dad it was a little tart. Then, I don't know why—maybe it was the tartness or the memory I had of eating key lime pie on our trip—but something made me just start crying. For a second I tried to catch the tears, but Dad saw.

“You sure there's nothing you want to talk about?” he asked. He looked at me like everything would be OK. It reminded me of the way he used to look at me when I was little and I‘d fall or hurt myself. I probably should've been annoyed that he was looking at me like that, but I was more relieved than annoyed, and everything just started pouring out.

I told Dad what happened with Billy, and how I told Brynn about what happened, and what she said. I even told him what happened with Matt and what Brynn had to say about that.

“Now my friends are coming home from camp on Saturday and I have no idea what it will be like when they get here,” I said. I told Dad that I can't help but worry that I'm not going to like how things end up.

I never thought I could have told Dad this kind of stuff. But he was pretty cool about it. He just listened while I talked. When I was done, he was quiet for a few seconds, like he was thinking about what to say to me.

“Relationships can be complicated,” Dad said. He talked for a long time about boys and feelings and relationships. Some of it was embarrassing, coming from my dad. I laughed and told him that. But he reminded me that he used to write a column about relationships and that he wasn't called the Love Doctor for nothing.

Then he said two things he wanted me to remember.

“April, listen to your heart. If you really listen, it will tell you what to do.”

When he said that, I knew immediately what my heart was telling me.

It was telling me that I like Billy, not just as a best friend, and that I need to talk to him and clear the air between us and tell him how I feel. It was exciting when Matt kissed me … but it felt right when Billy kissed me.

I told Dad that I hoped Billy being at camp with Brynn hasn't ruined everything.

That's when Dad told me the second thing he wanted me to remember. He said not to assume the worst as far as my friends are concerned.

He talked about how it is human nature to believe the worst is going to happen, but it doesn't usually come to pass. “Trust your friends,” he said. “Sometimes people surprise you, and I think your friends will surprise you in a good way.”

I told Dad I hoped so, but I wasn't sure.

Then Dad said the thing to do was to stop thinking so much and eat some pie.

He cut a slice from the second pie and brought out two forks. We both took a bite. It was delicious—the perfect blend of smooth and sweet and tart. I'm sure I sounded like Goldilocks, but I told Dad this pie tasted just right.

After we had cleaned the plate with our forks, I thanked Dad for the pie and the talk and told him it had helped.

He gave me a big hug and said, “Anything for my number one daughter.”

I smiled. Dad knows I like that he calls me that sometimes, because it could mean I'm his oldest, but it could also mean I'm his favorite.

He hasn't said it for a while, and to be honest, it was nice to hear it again.

Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.

—
C.S. Lewis

Saturday, July 13, 7:45 A.M.
Tossing and turning since 5:32 A.M.

I couldn't sleep last night.

My brain is racing. Today's the day Brynn and Billy come home from camp. I have so many questions I need answered, and even though I felt better after I talked to Dad, now I'm worried again. Dad told me I should believe in my friends and not expect the worst, but my brain doesn't seem to be able to follow his advice.

What if Brynn told Billy about Matt?

What if Brynn and Billy are a couple?

What if Billy doesn't feel the same way about me that I feel about him?

Billy and Brynn's bus doesn't get here until noon. Waiting won't be easy.

9:14 A.M.

I'm waiting. Not easy.

10:33 A.M.

I'm still waiting. Still not easy.

11:07 A.M.

I'm still waiting, and I just ate an entire shoebox of Captain Crunch. May just said I look like there's a baby in my belly, and now June keeps repeating it. Ugh, I'm having a food baby! NOT how I want to look today!

11:31 A.M.

The bus arrives in 29 minutes, and I'm going to be there when it does. I'm going to brush my hair, put on lip gloss, and find a tunic top to wear so when my friends get off the bus, no one will see my food baby.

11:32 A.M.

I can't find a tunic top.

11:34 A.M.

What am I thinking?!

I can't be there when the bus arrives. I have to talk to Brynn before I talk to Billy. I need to know what she's told him before I talk to him. I'm going to have to wait for them to call me.

I'm sure they will call the minute they get home.

Right?

12:09 P.M.

Brynn lives two minutes from where the bus stops. If it took her two minutes to get off the bus and two minutes to get home, she has been home for five minutes already.

She should have called by now.

12:17 P.M.

Brynn still hasn't called. If she doesn't call by 12:22, I'm calling her.

12:25 P.M.

I'm calling Brynn.

Still 12:25 P.M.

I just called Brynn. She said she was just about to call me, but before she could say another word, I told her I was coming over and I hung up. Was she going to call to tell me something good or something I don't want to hear? My stomach is a ball of fear, nervousness, and too much Captain Crunch.

2:10 P.M.

Just home from Brynn's

GOOD NEWS! Brynn didn't tell Billy anything about Matt. When I asked her about it, she said she couldn't even believe I would ask her that because she would never do that. “April, we're best friends, like sisters,” she said. “And I would never tell anybody anything that you asked me not to tell. Not even Billy.” Then I knew that there was nothing going on between Brynn and Billy. I could tell they were just friends like they've always been.

I wanted to give Brynn the biggest hug ever, but she wasn't done talking.

Brynn said she had two things to tell me.

The first was that camp wasn't the same without me. “It was fun,” she said. “But I really missed you.”

The second thing was that Billy missed me too. I tried to get her to tell me if she meant he missed me the same way Brynn did or a different way. I even showed her the T-shirt and picture frame I brought her back from Disney World and told her I wouldn't give them to her until she told me.

But Brynn did this zip-her-lip thing and told me Billy wanted to talk to me himself.

Then she said he was planning to come to my house this afternoon and that I better get home fast if I wanted to be there when he arrives.

I got home in record time.

5:15 P.M.

Billy just left

Best day ever!

I don't know where to start.

So much happened this afternoon when Billy came over. The first thing—after May and June jumped all over Billy and gave him huge hugs like he'd been missing at sea—was that right away, I noticed something was different. Billy grew while he was gone, and he was tan. On the cuteness scale, Billy went from a 7 to a 9.

The next thing that happened was that he gave me presents. Billy knows I love presents. And he had some really good ones. First he gave me a plaque with a photo he took of the sun setting over Silver Lake. It's so cool—I love it. He told me he made it for me in Arts and Crafts, and then he put it on my nightstand.

He started telling me all about camp, and even though it made me miss being there, it was fun hearing about it.

Then he gave me another present—a jar of lake water. He seriously brought me a jar of water from Silver Lake. We were sitting on the floor of my room, and he pulled this little jar out of one of his pockets and said since I couldn't make it to Silver Lake this summer, he brought the lake to me.

I opened the jar and it smelled disgusting, just like Silver Lake, but I loved it. I put the jar on my bookshelf. “That's the best present anyone has ever given me,” I said. Then I told Billy that I had a present for him. I tried to give him the snow globe I brought him back from Disney World, but Billy said I'd have to wait my turn, that he still had more presents for me.

Billy took a piece of foil out of his pocket and opened it up. Inside was a s'more.

“It's from Final Campfire,” he said.

I looked down at it. The marshmallow was just the right shade of brown. “It's perfect,” I said.

He smiled at me. “You know what Camp Director Dan always says.”

“If you don't want something to go up in smoke, don't hold it too close to a flame.”

We laughed as we said the words together that we've been listening to Dan say at campfires for as long as we've been going to Camp Silver Shores.

I felt a lump in my throat as I looked at the s'more Billy gave me. He knows how much I love them. And Final Campfire is one of my favorite Silver Shores traditions. The last night of camp, anyone who wants to say something goes up to the campfire, puts a log on the fire, and says what they want to say to someone or to everybody. When everyone is done talking, the whole camp eats s'mores together, and then we do the Hokey Pokey. It sounds silly, but everyone ends up crying during Campfire and then laughing like crazy when we do the Hokey Pokey.

“I love it,” I told Billy. “It makes me feel like I'm there.”

“Pretend like you are,” said Billy. “I have something I want to tell you. If you'd been at camp this summer, I wouldn't have said it to you at Final Campfire, but afterward, because I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to hear it.” I looked down at the carpet.

Billy paused like he really wanted to make sure it came out right.

(I'm going to write out what he said as well as I can remember it, because it was amazing and I never want to forget it.)

“I know things were weird between us before camp. You've been my best friend for so long, and then … things were different. I was really confused before I left, but I had a lot of time over the summer to think. I wanted to write and tell you what I was thinking. I started a bunch of letters, but they never sounded right so I decided to wait until I got home.”

Billy's voice got softer. “April, I missed you this summer.”

When Billy said he missed me, I could feel my heart thumping inside my chest. It was so sweet the way he said it.

He kept talking, quietly, like he only wanted me to hear what he was about to say, even though we were the only ones in the room. “April, it sounds weird to say this, but … will you be my girlfriend? I really hope you will be.”

Part of me wanted to laugh. The way Billy asked me to be his girlfriend sounded so oldfashioned and funny. But it was so Billy-like to ask in such a sweet, sincere way.

My talk with Dad at the diner floated through my brain. Listen to your heart, April.

I knew what my heart was telling me. Finally, I had an answer instead of just questions. “Yes, Billy. I would love to be your girlfriend.”

Billy grabbed my hands, pulled me up off my bedroom floor, and started doing the Hokey Pokey with me.

You put your whole self in,

You put your whole self out,

You put your whole self in

And you shake it all about.

You do the Hokey Pokey

And you turn yourself around,

That's what it's all about.

When we were done, we were both cracking up, just like we always do at camp when we do the Hokey Pokey. Except that doing the Hokey-Pokey in my bedroom seemed even funnier. We couldn't stop laughing. Just looking at each other made us laugh even harder. Tears were rolling down my face.

We were laughing so hard that Mom came in my room to make sure we were OK.

I told her we were. We were more than OK. We were April and Billy, just like we've always been, only better.