Running through Sprinklers Read online

  And then Jen’s eyes start to get all watery and I’m not sure if it’s tears running down her face or raindrops but strange sounds start coming out of her mouth and it’s clear she’s crying. She is crying so hard that all she can say is, “Well, at least I’m a good person.” She runs inside. I just stare at the Ando house.

  “What is wrong with you guys!” I yell. “You’re a bunch of stuck-up witches in there!”

  Nadine comes out with an umbrella, wearing rain boots.

  “What are you doing?” she says. “Why are you yelling outside my house?”

  “I’m expressing an opinion,” I say. “It’s a free country.”

  “Well, we don’t want to hear it. You did enough. You made my sister cry,” she says.

  “I didn’t make her cry. She made herself cry. I just came over to work on a school project. How dare you accuse me of anything, you hypocrite!”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Really? Hmm . . . let me think. Let’s start with abandoning your best friend and betraying her and using her to buy clothes all while you knew you were leaving me. Let’s start there.”

  “I didn’t abandon you. I just went to a different school. You’re the one who became friends with my younger sister to rub it in my face. Everyone can see it. It’s sad. How dare you use her as a pawn in some game you think you’re playing against me!”

  “I’m not playing a game,” I say. “Though your sister can be annoying as hell, she’s a way better person than you. At least she is loyal. You think you’re so great, walking around in your ballet bun and doing grade eight math. You’re not that great. You’re a selfish human being for what you did.”

  “Leave my sister and my family alone, you psycho. Get off our driveway, now,” Nadine says. She keeps walking forward and pushes me off her driveway. Once I’m off, she walks back inside and closes the door, and my body is trembling in shock that my old best friend pushed me like that. I hate them. I wish I never knew them.

  58

  AT HOME, MOM is watching me eat. She just sits there, across the kitchen table, watching me chew. I hate her. I hate everyone in my life. I know what she’s about to say.

  “Why don’t you practice piano?”

  “Don’t put your backpack on the floor.”

  “Put your dish in the sink.”

  “Sit up straight and wear socks and put lotion on your face.”

  I am trapped. I cannot talk with my mouth full. She knows this.

  I finally swallow and say, “I need a new dress for graduation.”

  “Wear what you wore to Josh’s bar mitzvah party,” she says.

  “Everyone saw that one, and everyone else will have new dresses.”

  “Who do you think you are, a millionaire?” she says.

  Me: “It’s the most important day of my life!”

  Her: “It’s not the most important day of your life.”

  “Yes, it is!”

  “Maybe you should study more. How is science class going?”

  Me: “Don’t change the subject! I know what you’re doing. Nice try!”

  “My point is you should focus on school, not dresses. Use your brain!”

  I copy her accent: “Okay, I will use my bLLLaine. Learn how to speak English.”

  Mom is quiet. She looks at me like she doesn’t recognize me anymore. She says nothing. I run upstairs.

  I pull clothes out of my drawers and shove them into my backpack.

  I have no one, not even my mom, not even Nadine, not even Jen.

  I switch off my lights and sit on my bed for an hour to fake that I’m sleeping. Once the noises in the house stop and everyone has gone to bed, I sling the backpack over my shoulder, open my door quietly, and tiptoe downstairs into the kitchen, grabbing the emergency flashlight from a drawer and the TV blanket from the couch. I slip out the side door and walk as silently as I can until I’m in the cul-de-sac looking up past the streetlights at the moon, then I run down the street.

  The forest looks like the shadows of trees, or ghosts, not real trees. No, don’t think about that now.

  I point the flashlight down the path and stomp forward. I move the light from side to side like a strobe at a school dance, trying to scare everything around me, mainly the animals. I hear them (probably just rats and rabbits, right?) scurrying around in the bushes, trying to get the heck away from me. It’s strange to think that just behind me, only meters away, people are snug in their beds, sound asleep, because in here, in Green Timbers Forest, everything is awake.

  It’s darker inside the forest and I can’t see much, even with the flashlight. I crouch to the ground and feel around for a stick, but my backpack pushes up and I lose balance and fall over. But it’s okay, because I find a stick in the process that I use to get up and I poke around like a blind person as I walk down what I think is a path, but it’s probably just straight-up bush because it feels like needles scraping the sides of my jeans and almost poking me in the eyes.

  I look up at the roof of dark trees above me, hoping for some moonlight to shine through, but something hits my head and I fall down.

  Ouch. That hurt a lot.

  I see two flashes of light in the distance, like someone is signaling to me. I crawl through the shrub toward the flashes, which look more like spotlights reflecting off a massive mirror into my eyes. Maybe it’s aliens, like on that show.

  An opening, a clearing in the forest:

  The bright moon above shines on a black metallic lake and I stop because my head hurts. I touch my forehead and it’s a bit wet. I can tell it’s blood. I’m bleeding quite a lot.

  I continue, crawling up to the edge of the water, and flip over and look up to the sky. The back of my head is up against some rocks, but I don’t care, I just want to lie here. I stare up and it looks like someone poked a million little holes in a black blanket and the brightest light is pouring through them.

  It reminds me of camping in the backyard and looking up at the sky with Nadine and Jen. I start to cry.

  Why did I say those awful things? Why did I act that way? Why did I try to be smarter, more grown-up? Why did I become friends with Jen just because Nadine was no longer there? I used Jen. I’m so mean. She’s actually a really good person, and to be honest, we get along better than me and Nadine. I was terrible to them all. To Jen, Nadine, my brother, my mom especially. One day, they will die and I’ll wish I was nicer.

  My cries echo through the clearing. I remember hearing about this place. Daniel mentioned it to James. Then I remember the abandoned search for him in the forest. And how I used him and the search to try to get Nadine back. What kind of horrible person does that? What kind of person uses a missing boy as a ploy to get a friend back? I think about that poor kid. He’s probably out there, sitting in the dark somewhere, in a room, or in the ground, not knowing where he is or what happened to him. I think, why doesn’t someone just kidnap me? I’m the one who doesn’t deserve to be here. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve to live.

  “Come get me! I’m here! Take me!” I yell.

  I hear a rustling close by and flinch. Oh no, I take it back, I take back my wish. I sit up and turn around and see the silhouette of a boy.

  Wait.

  “Daniel?”

  Ahead, I see him running toward the forest.

  “Daniel! Come back!”

  I start running after him, into the forest, but he zigzags deeper into it, and I lose him. Then I see something moving behind a bush and I jump on him and we fall on the ground and lie there for a bit, my arms around him, as I catch my breath.

  I found him, I found Daniel Monroe, I’m holding him down so he doesn’t leave ever again. I will bring him home to his mom and she will . . .

  “Sara?”

  It’s not Daniel.

  “James, what are you doing here?”

  “I followed you,” James says. “I figured you left to look for him here, finally. I care about him too. He was my friend too.”


  “I’m sorry, James.”

  “I made him feel bad that day at the baseball game when we messed up that play.”

  “James, it’s not your fault.”

  “He was my friend, Sara. He was going to be my best friend. I know it.”

  I just hold James a bit and rock back and forth and he sobs. After a few seconds he says, “Do you know where we are?”

  “I’m not sure. I can’t really see and I lost my flashlight.”

  “I’m so scared,” he says.

  “It’ll be okay,” I say.

  “I think your head is bleeding, Sara.”

  “It’s fine. We’ll be fine.”

  I say this for my little brother’s sake, even though I’m not sure if we will be fine. I feel around on my hands and knees in the darkness and find a big tree trunk to put our backs up against. I still have my backpack, miraculously, and pull the TV blanket over us. “Let’s just stay here until the sun comes up a bit so we can see well enough to get home,” I say.

  “Sara, do you think someone really took him? Like a bad guy?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s not worry about that right now. It’ll only freak us out,” I say. “I love you, James.”

  I sit there under a fir tree holding my little brother, unsure of what just happened but hoping that the sun will rise soon.

  Lights in my eyes. But it’s not the stars or the sun, it’s the same light from the orthodontist and for a moment, I think it’s him, Dr. Chiang, but it’s not. It’s Mr. Ando. “I found them!” he shouts, then another light flashes back and forth and Dad appears. Dad scoops me up and Mr. Ando gets James. As Dad carries me out of the forest, I whisper in his ear, “I couldn’t keep us all together.”

  Dad stops and cradles me in his arms. He says softly, “It’s okay, Sara. I love you.”

  I wake up in my parents’ bed, in between Mom and Dad. James is here too. We haven’t all been in bed together since James and I were really little, like babies.

  James is sleeping. I can tell Mom is still awake because she isn’t snoring (she usually does).

  I say, “I’ll never say those things or run away again. I’m sorry.”

  “I know,” Mom says. “You’re a good girl.”

  “I don’t want you guys to die! Please don’t die and leave me!” I’m crying, but I’m trying to stop myself by holding my breath. Mom holds me and says, “Just let it out, Sara. Breathe and cry. It’s good to let it out. To be heard. It’s healthy.”

  Once she says this, I magically stop for a bit. I look up at her and notice she’s not wearing lipstick. It’s the first time I’ve seen her like this. She looks even more beautiful. I stare at the tiny diamond stud in her ear and fall asleep under her star.

  59

  I COME DOWN the stairs to the kitchen and see that Nadine is sitting at our kitchen table eating ddukbokki. Rice cakes in the shape of solid tubes mixed in with green onions and red spicy sauce that kind of looks like lava. Mom’s ddukbokki is the best and everyone who eats it feels better.

  Nadine looks taller than usual sitting at the table. Like it’s lower than it should be. Then I realize she hasn’t been at my house since last summer. She stands up suddenly when she sees me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I’m surprised she cares. And that she is even here.

  “I heard you were almost kidnapped.”

  “Not really, I was just in the forest, trying to get kidnapped,” I say.

  She looks a little disappointed. I sit down in front of her. Mom gently slides a plate of ddukbokki in front of me. I prick one with my fork and eat the chewy noodle and feel instantly better.

  Nadine puts a small box in front of me. It’s wrapped in pink tissue paper with gold ribbon tied around it.

  “I never gave this to you. . . . It’s your birthday present,” she says. “I’m sorry I didn’t get it to you sooner. But your birthday was when Daniel went missing and I forgot about it after because I wasn’t thinking straight. Also, I thought you kind of hated me after I told you about skipping and I was afraid to mention it and the more time passed, the more awkward it got. . . .”

  I pull the wrapping off slowly, kind of scared of what could be inside.

  It’s one half of a broken heart of a silver best friend necklace. Nadine pulls down the collar of her T-shirt. “See?” she says. “I’m wearing the other half.”

  I look down at the broken heart and think how well it describes our best friendship, and maybe all girl best friendships.

  “Thanks, it’s really nice of you,” I say. “I’m really sorry about the other day. I shouldn’t have said what I said. You were right, I was being a psycho.”

  “It’s okay. I’m sorry too,” she says. “That was really messed up of me, pushing you off our driveway like that.”

  “It’s all good,” I say. “I sort of deserved it.”

  And we sit there for a while, eating Mom’s ddukbokki and being nice to each other. But the truth is, it doesn’t feel that comfortable. She’s changed. I have. And that’s okay.

  Later that night, I place the pendant in a bowl with my other jewelry. It doesn’t feel right to wear it. She’s not my forever best friend. My best friend is someone else.

  60

  IT’S THE SCIENCE FAIR. I show up at our booth with a small bandage on my forehead from falling. Jen is there. I see that she put both our names on the project. I guess she heard about what happened and feels sorry for me. When the judges come around, including Ms. Lee, we present our project. Jen does most of the talking. We win second place and get an A+.

  After, I thank Jen for doing most of the work and tell her I can pack up the table myself and she can go home. She doesn’t say too much but seems relieved that I offered. “It’s the least I can do,” I say.

  Later that day, Nadine calls. She can’t come to prom. I actually forgot I invited her. “My ankle still hurts,” she says. “Plus, it doesn’t feel like my prom. It might be a little weird.”

  I tell her that I understand, because I kind of do. Somehow it doesn’t bother me at all that she won’t be there.

  61

  IN THE PENCIL sharpener line. Josh is ahead of me. He turns around and blurts out, “Maybe we should go to prom together. Just as friends, you know.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  It’s grade seven prom. It’s at the Pacific Inn hotel, same place as Josh’s bar mitzvah party. Scarlett wanted me to come over to her house and get ready with her. But I’m kind of sick of her. We just spent all day decorating the ballroom, and to be quite frank, she’s boring.

  Mom and Dad drive me to Josh’s.

  I’m wearing a magical white chiffon dress with pink butterflies all over it. Mom made it for me. It’s super flowy and when I twirl, it whirls with me. I’m wearing makeup, too. Mom let me. Well, just lip gloss and mascara. A daisy is tucked behind my ear.

  Josh opens the door. He smiles. Behind him his mother says, “You look beautiful, dear.”

  Our parents take pictures of us in their garden. Telling us to pose like this and that. Our parents drink wine and talk and Josh and I just kind of stand around.

  At the prom:

  Everyone just dances together, and sometimes I dance with Josh, and sometimes I dance with other boys in class, and sometimes I dance with girls, and I even dance with Ms. Lee, because it’s our last dance ever of elementary school and it suddenly hits me that this may be the last time I ever see these people and I want to make sure to look at everyone and try to memorize one thing about them so I can remember something about them forever. But someone is missing. Someone should be here.

  Later that night, coming home from prom, I see Jen in silhouette through her bedroom window, dancing by herself slowly. I think she wanted to be there too.

  62

  SO IT’S THE last day of school. And I got sent to the vice principal’s office again. Actually, I kinda turned myself in. Thing is, I kinda punched Ricky in the face.

  What happened: He snapped my bra s
o hard and I was so mad that I turned around too quickly and my arms kinda flailed into his face. His nose bled a bit. But he didn’t care. He was embarrassed, if anything. He had tissues up his nose as plugs the rest of the day. I felt bad. No one else saw this happen.

  So I am explaining all this to Ms. Lee and she sits on her desk and she smiles, puts up her hand, and says, “This is off the record but . . . high five.” She gives me one. “Good for you. He totally deserved it, if you ask me.”

  Later, at home:

  I read my yearbook, which is really just a photocopied booklet with everyone’s pictures in it and some blank pages at the end for people to write messages on.

  By reading them, I find out who left the perfume, the rose, the card, and the chocolates.

  He wrote a message in my yearbook, next to his picture. It reads:

  It was me. I asked your brother what you liked. I hope you liked the presents. Have a great summer. Luv, Ricky.

  Sometimes, the truth surprises you so hard, you look up and the world looks really different. Like all the colors are off or something. I sit there, at the piano, with the yearbook open where music should be, staring at the message. Ricky? Really?

  This means that for sure it wasn’t Nadine or some creep.

  I don’t contact Ricky to say thank you or anything.

  63

  IT’S THE END of June and everyone smells like sunblock. Josh and I go to the pool together and tread water in the deep end. Kids are splashing all around us and I can barely keep my eyes open.

  “Jen says hi,” Josh says.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “We boarded together in Bear Creek Park the other day,” he says.

  Me: “Yah, I haven’t really talked to her that much for a while. I think she hates me.”

  Josh: “I’m not so sure about that.”

  All the kids are still splashing water in our faces, so I close my eyes for a bit because they sting. I drop under the water and swim to the ladder and get out of the pool. My wet feet make a splat splat splat sound as I walk across the deck. I climb up to the highest diving board.