Braced Read online

  Why did you? I don’t want to guess.

  I don’t know, he says. I’m an idiot.

  Well, as long as you know that, I say.

  I do. Kyle and I aren’t friends anymore. I don’t want to be friends with someone who’s so mean. I wanted to tell you that in class, but I didn’t know if you cared anymore.

  I care, I say. Why were you friends in the first place? No offense.

  He doesn’t text back right away, and then my phone starts buzzing. Tate is calling me. “Hey,” he says. “Can you talk instead? My answer was too long to text.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I keep my voice low, because Frannie and Hazel are sleeping. Then I walk into the hallway so I don’t wake them up.

  “Cool,” he says. “So, Kyle and I started being friends a long time ago. He didn’t used to be like that. He changed a lot at the end of last year and then even more this year. I should have stood up for myself when it started happening, but that was right when Adam left for college and I couldn’t even get him on the phone. I guess I didn’t want to lose anyone else.” He pauses. “And I definitely should have stood up for both of us at the formal, but after Adam didn’t show up to the race on Thanksgiving, I guess I just held on to the only real thing I had.”

  “Kyle?” I ask.

  “I know it sounds dumb,” he says. “I told Adam everything that happened, and he said I already lost Kyle last year when he stopped acting like a friend. And he was sorry he wasn’t there for me when I needed him. But I feel bad that I dragged you into it. I was being such a follower.”

  “Yeah, you really were,” I say.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “Do you think you can forgive me?”

  I think about his question for a minute. Not because I’m trying to make him wait or anything, but because I want to tell him the truth.

  “I think so,” I say. “I’m really glad you explained what happened.”

  “Me too,” he says.

  I take a deep breath. “So, Frannie and Hazel are actually at my house. I mean, they’re asleep in the other room, but they might wake up, so I should probably go back in there.”

  “Oh, okay, um … Have fun.”

  “Thanks,” I say and hang up.

  As soon as I’m off the phone and back in the room with my sleeping friends, I get another text from Tate: Anyone up?

  Still sleeping, I say.

  I just wanted to say I like you, in case you couldn’t tell. I mean, I know we kissed, but I wanted to say it, because it meant a lot to me.

  It meant a lot to me too, I say.

  WHEN I GET to school on Monday, I go straight to the gym, because that’s where Coach Howard said the team lists would be posted. I’ve been on a roller coaster all morning. One minute, I’m sure I’ll make the A Team. How could I not? Then out of nowhere, all I can think about is every step I took that wasn’t perfect, every stumble, every weak pass, and how much I want this. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.

  Hazel and Frannie are both waiting by the door when I get to the gym.

  “Finally!” Hazel says.

  “Well?” I ask.

  “Little Miss Superstition over here”—Hazel nods at Frannie—“thought it would be bad luck if we looked without you.”

  I smile. “Thanks.”

  “Let’s go,” Frannie says, pulling us over to the lists.

  There’s a small group standing in front of the piece of paper taped to the door. I take a deep breath and look up. Rachel Brooks. Rachel Brooks. I keep repeating my name in my mind, willing it to be on the A Team.

  GIRLS’ SOCCER:

  A Team

  Ladan Saif

  Frannie Tucker

  Saaya Rao

  Hazel Levy

  Zeva Joseph

  Lauren Armstrong

  Katrina Cruz

  Josie Mora

  Jennifer Fine

  Alice Chung

  Brianna Smith

  Rima Patel

  Rachel Brooks

  Emily Wilson

  Angela Vincent

  I did it! I made the A Team! It feels like cold, hard proof that I’m a good soccer player. Even now. Even in my brace.

  Frannie and Hazel both hug me, holding on tight. We’re squealing and jumping up and down. And it feels so good.

  I get to science early. Tate is standing by the door, leaning against the wall in the hallway like he’s waiting for me. My stomach flips. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since we texted about our kiss, and now I’m not sure what to expect or what to do with my hands. All I can think about is how stiff and heavy they feel hanging by my side. Maybe they’re always like this and I’m only noticing it now because I’m nervous.

  “Congrats on making the A Team,” he says as soon as he sees me.

  He heard! “Thanks.” I grin. “I’m so excited!”

  “You should be.”

  “Wait, when is Adam coming home for the holidays?” I ask.

  “This weekend. We’re going skiing.” He smiles. “What about you?”

  “Um, nothing. You know, my mom’s having a baby in a month.”

  “Oh yeah, duh,” he says. I know the bell is about to ring, because the hallway is crowded with people on the way to first period.

  “Ooo, kissy, kissy.” I know it’s Kyle before I even look over at him. “I hope you’re happy with your freak girlfriend, Tate-O, because we’re done, bro. No takebacks on this friendship.”

  “Um, Kyle,” I say. “Everyone knows you guys aren’t friends anymore and Hazel dumped you because you’re a jerk. So figure it out.”

  “Whatever, freak,” he shoots back.

  I roll my eyes. “Got anything better? That’s getting old.” Kyle doesn’t say anything. “Nothing? Well, you should work on that.” I turn away from him and look back at Tate. He smiles at me and we walk into science together.

  ON FRIDAY, I’M sitting in English when my teacher says I need to go to the office and take my bag, because Dad is waiting for me. That can mean only one thing: My brother is here! I close my notebook as fast as I can and shove it in my bag.

  When I get to the office, Dad is pacing. He stops as soon as he sees me. “The baby came a little earlier than we expected.”

  “That’s great!” I say. I’m trying to seem excited, but really I’m worried I won’t like him or I won’t feel anything. I think that might be worse.

  In the car, on the way to the hospital, Dad rolls down the windows. It’s warm outside, really warm for December. I’m wearing my black dress and sweating inside my brace. I put on my “Dad Approved” playlist, which is mostly Paul Simon with a little Billy Joel. I tap on my brace and we sing along, letting our voices float out the window all the way to Boston.

  “I think we should start a new tradition,” Dad says. “Just you and me.”

  “Like what?” I ask.

  “I looked at the Boston Breakers’ schedule. If we get season tickets, we’d end up going to a game every other week. I figured we could get sundaes for dinner and then go watch. But I’m not even sure you like pro soccer, so we can think of something else if you don’t.” He sounds almost nervous.

  “I love all soccer!” I say. “But will it be okay with work?”

  “Yes. I already took care of that.” He looks over at me.

  “Are you serious?” I ask.

  “So, does that mean you want to go?”

  “Yes! It’s perfect.”

  The maternity floor smells like sour milk, but as soon as we walk into the room, it smells like Mom.

  “Hi, baby,” she says, reaching out for me with her free arm. She’s subtly rocking the tiniest bundle I’ve ever seen in the other. “Sit next to me.” She pats the extra space in her hospital bed.

  I can’t maneuver myself onto the elevated mattress in my brace, so I stand next to her, leaning against the side of the bed, and look at the baby. He’s a tiny blob wrapped up in a yellow blanket, a golden raisin with a sweet little face. His eyes are mostly shut, but they mo
ve back and forth and around the room, so I know he’s in there. I can’t stop staring at him.

  Mom’s eyes are swollen around the edges and underlined with dark smudges. It looks like at any moment she could fall asleep. “Want to hold him?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I say and sit down in the chair next to her bed.

  Mom hands the peanut to Dad.

  “Make sure you hold his neck,” he says, putting him in my arms. “His name is Daniel Aaron Brooks. We’re going to call him Danny.”

  “That’s one of my names. The names I wanted,” I say.

  “It was one of my favorites too,” Mom says.

  Danny starts crying a little. He looks so helpless with his squinty eyes and missing teeth, yelling for attention. I feel like that too sometimes, whenever I can’t say what I need. I bounce him a little until he stops and closes his wrinkly eyes again.

  “Look at you,” Dad says. “You’re already a pro.”

  “Really, Rachel. You’re a natural,” Mom says.

  I look down at him and feel myself smile. I have a little brother.

  One of the nurses comes in to check on Mom.

  “Would you mind getting a picture of all of us?” Dad asks.

  “Of course,” she says, taking his phone from him.

  I stand up slowly, careful not to topple over or crush the peanut against my brace, and hand him to Mom.

  Dad comes around and stands next to me.

  “Smile,” the nurse says.

  And we all do.

  THE GOOD THING about Danny coming early is that I get to spend all of winter vacation hanging out with him. Big news: Danny likes me better than everyone else, but only when I’m in my brace. Something about my hard, plastic stomach puts him right to sleep. He’s not interested in my regular stomach. I also tried putting him next to the brace when I wasn’t wearing it. He hated that too.

  “Let’s go,” Mom says a few days after Christmas, walking into the family room with Dad. “You and I are going out for a girls’ coffee, just the two of us. We need to get out of the house.”

  I’m pretty sure that’s code for she needs to get out of the house. “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “Biscotti’s,” she says. “You can get whatever you want.”

  I pull myself up off the couch and hand Danny to Dad. He starts screaming like a banshee, which is pretty much all he does when he’s not sleeping. “Good luck with that,” I say to Dad.

  “Thanks.” Dad rocks the baby back and forth, which doesn’t do anything. I like being the only one who can make him stop crying. It’s like the brace gives me special baby-calming superpowers.

  Biscotti’s is always packed, but today the line is wrapped all the way around the store.

  “Cinnamon chip muffin?” Mom asks me.

  “Yes,” I say. “Always.”

  “Rachel, hey.” Tate is walking over to me, fiddling with the zipper on his hoodie.

  I can’t help but smile. We’ve been texting and talking a lot over winter break. It’s been flirty and also sort of serious—like before the dance, but better.

  “I’ll be a while,” Mom whispers in my ear, and then she walks away.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be skiing with Adam right now?” I ask Tate.

  “Yeah. We’re leaving soon. We were up way too late playing video games,” he says and grins. “Did I tell you he’s home until the end of January? That’s how college works. No school for half of December and all of January.”

  “That’s so not fair,” I say. “I want to be in college.”

  “I know, right? But it’s pretty great for me.” He pauses. “You look different. Good different,” he adds quickly.

  “Yeah?” I look down at myself. I’m in my brace and my favorite, most comfortable sweats. No lip gloss. No cover-up. My hair is pulled back in a low ponytail. I look the way I always do when I’m doing homework or hanging out at home, like my regular self. I smile, because I sort of like this version of me the best. “Thanks,” I say.

  “How’s the new little bro doing?” he asks. “Still crying a lot?”

  “I’m not trying to brag, but he’s sort of obsessed with me. Mostly with my brace.” I tell him about my superpowers. It’s weird how talking about the brace doesn’t feel bad anymore or like something that’s embarrassing. It feels neutral, like white or water or Switzerland. Or maybe it’s even better than that—natural, like me without lip gloss.

  “That’s awesome,” he says. “What’s it like to have him around all the time?”

  “He mostly cries and sleeps.” I don’t say “poops,” even though that is another thing he does, because no. Just no.

  “I’ve never held a baby before,” he says. “I bet it’s cool.”

  “Yeah. It really is,” I say.

  “Hey—Rachel.” Tate looks down at the floor, then back up at me. His hands are shaking. “I was wondering if … ” He stops himself and puts his hands in his pockets. “Do you, um, want to go out with me?”

  “Yes!” I say and smile so big.

  He smiles and takes a deep breath, letting out all the air.

  Then I hug him right in the middle of Biscotti’s, where everyone can see. And he hugs me back.

  TODAY IS JANUARY 5, aka Frannie’s birthday. It’s not a regular birthday. She’s thirteen, which I personally think sounds so much older and cooler than twelve. It’s a different league. She’s officially a teenager. Also, today happens to be our very first A Team practice, and it’s a costume practice. How Frannie is that? It feels like fate.

  It’s one of those weird weather days where it’s warmer than it should be outside, but the heat is still blasting in all the school buildings. I’m sticky and sweating. I’m also nervous for practice, and not exactly jumping for joy about adding a costume on top of my normal soccer stuff on top of my brace. I can’t wait for February 10.

  After school, Hazel and Frannie sort through bags of denim accessories and cowboy hats in the locker room. Frannie picked the Wild West as our theme. “Thank God you’re here,” she huffs as soon as she sees me, like I’m late, when I’m not.

  “Where have you been? With your boyfriend?” Hazel drags out the word.

  “Um, no,” I say, but I’m blushing anyway. “I was with Coach Howard. I wanted to make sure we could put on the special Frannie playlist during warm-ups today.”

  “Thank you!” Frannie shrieks.

  “Happy birthday!” I hand her a bag of red-and-white-checkered bandannas.

  “I love them so much!” She hugs me before I can stop her. “Why are you soaked?”

  “It’s a sauna inside this thing,” I say.

  “Gross,” she says.

  “Tell me about it.” I don’t feel like faking anything. “I’m sorry, but dressing up is really stressing me out right now. I’m already freaking out about being the worst person on the A Team and sharing the gym with the boys, and on top of that every single person who shows up today will be wearing some cute little outfit, like you guys, and I’ll be the only gross, sweaty blob.” I stop talking to come up for air.

  “Sweaty blob?” Hazel laughs, and soon she’s laughing too hard to talk. So is Frannie. I can’t help but laugh too.

  “I’ll only wear what you can,” Frannie says.

  “That’s stupid. You don’t have to do that,” I say.

  “We want to,” Hazel says.

  “Okay. But—”

  “No.” Frannie shakes her head, serious again. “I had no clue. About any of that.”

  “Me neither,” Hazel says. “Ugh. I’m so sorry about the sauna situation. That must be really hard.”

  “Thanks.” I smile, because right now it actually feels okay.

  Frannie clears her throat. “Now we need to finish getting ready.”

  We decide on hats, these really thin dark brown vests that won’t show how much I’m sweating, and bandannas around our necks. And Hazel asks Coach Howard if she can turn the heat down in the gym, which helps a lot.

>   Even though it’s a school night, we’re allowed to have a sleepover for Frannie’s birthday. The three of us camp out in her basement with takeout and Footloose.

  We’re halfway through the movie when I say, “I might be getting my brace off in five weeks and one day.” I wasn’t planning on telling Hazel and Frannie—I figured it’d be better to wait until I got the official word—but I’m feeling so good, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  “What?” Hazel screams. “Are you even serious right now?”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “I’m almost done growing. And that’s what we’ve been waiting for, so yeah.”

  “That’s amazing,” Frannie says, pausing the movie. I guess my news is big enough to stop everything.

  “Seriously!” Hazel says. “Are you dying right now? You have to be. I mean, this is huge. We need to plan something really big to celebrate!”

  I smile. It feels good to have them get excited for me. It makes it seem more real, like maybe I can start to imagine what it will be like when it’s all over. “I’m pretty sure these are going to be the longest five weeks and one day of my life,” I say.

  “Yeah. Probably.” Frannie nods.

  “I’m a little scared too.” I don’t know where the words come from. “I mean, I want to be done with the brace more than anything. I want it to be over forever. I never want to think about it again.… But in a weird way, I am kind of used to it?”

  “That makes sense,” Frannie says.

  “What makes you nervous?” Hazel asks.

  “I know how to be a person with a back brace now, and pretty soon I’m going to be a person without one again,” I say. “It’s going to be different.”

  “I’d be nervous about that too,” Hazel says. “It’s like you’re excited. But not just excited.”

  I nod. I guess change is pretty scary. Even if it’s the good kind.

  THE HOUSE IS quiet for the first time in weeks. The peanut isn’t crying, so he must be sleeping. “Hi, honeys,” Mom whispers, walking into the kitchen.

  “Hi,” I say, looking up from my book.

  “Hi,” Dad says, looking up from his billing.