Bending Over Backwards (10 page)

She'd come all the way down to apologize, I realized. How awesome was that?

My heart soared. She'd showed up without Grace, Miranda, and the others. Just the two of us. Together. True friends. I couldn't help but smile.

I stepped forwards, then paused. She held something. What was it? I squinted.

The pink notebook lay open in her hands. And she was writing furiously in it.

What was she writing? I wondered. More background information?

What I saw next caused my smile to fade and my lungs to tighten. Andre walked towards them. In less than a minute, he'd be standing in front of Roseann and her reporter's notebook. And then she'd ask him questions about me. About—

I couldn't let that happen. I had to tell her that it had
all been a misunderstanding. I had to tell her
now
.

I sprinted straight across the gym and over the floor-routine mats. “Watch out!” I called, inches away from colliding with Sofia as she landed her tumbling pass.

“Molly!” she screamed, startled. Her legs wobbled.

“Sorry.” I couldn't stop. I had to get to Roseann.

Panting, I dodged between Andre and Roseann. “Hi, Andre. This is my brother and my friend.”

“Everything is okay?” he asked.

“Hi, are you—?” Roseann began.

“Totally fine,” I assured Andre, cutting her off. “I'll be back out there in a sec.”

“Quickly,” he reminded me before heading towards the vault to watch Kelsey warm up front handspring–front twists.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Alex.

“Roseann wanted to see where you did gymnastics, so I took her and Chrissy on a field trip.”

“A field trip? Here?”

“Hi, Molly!” Roseann greeted me brightly. “I was looking for you out there. I wanted to see you do something, so I could describe it in the article.”

“Molly is really good,” Alex bragged to Chrissy. “She does all these crazy flips.”

I rolled my eyes. He was only praising me to get her attention.

“Alex, don't you have a library or someplace to go to?” I asked pointedly.

“Nope. I'm good to hang out.” He acted as if he were always this mellow, which he so wasn't. “Hey, when you finish, I could drive you and Roseann for ice cream.”

I stared at him. Crushing on Chrissy had turned him into alien brother. Ice cream? Really? This was the first time since he had gotten his driver's license that he'd offered to take me for ice cream.

“That's great,” Chrissy answered for me.

“So, Molly, can I talk to your coach?” Roseann asked. “That was him before? The blond guy?”

“Now's not a good time.” I flexed my toes as if about to spring into a tuck. “There's something you don't have right . . . something I need to tell you. . . .”

“If I can't talk to him, can I see your Olympic routine?” She swiveled about, searching the gym. “Who else here is going to the Olympics with you? What about that girl Kelsey?”

“Seriously? Seriously?” Sofia repeated. I hadn't heard her come up behind me. Her voice sounded incredulous.

“Hey, Sofia,” I said softly. “I'm sorry about before.”

“You think that Molly is going to the Olympics?” Sofia asked Roseann.

“Well, yeah. She said that—”

“She told you that? She told you that she is as good as Kelsey?” Sofia's voice grew louder with each question. “Molly told you that she is working on a routine for the upcoming
Olympics
?”

I didn't have to turn to know that all activity in the gym had stopped. Every gymnast halted her extensions and body tightening to listen.

All their eyes bored into my back. My face turned redder than my leotard.

I glanced over my shoulder. A few cheerleaders peeked through the locker-room door. Was that Shrimp's giant purple bow? The tall cheer coach appeared, waving them inside. I whirled back around, embarrassed.

“Molly?” Roseann asked. Confusion clouded her face.

“I'm not going to this Olympics,” I admitted.

“
This
Olympics? Don't think I'm being mean, Molly, but you're dreaming,” Sofia said.

“I didn't mean this one. That came out wrong. Roseann, I'm not going to the Olympics. Ever,” I said quietly.

“What are you talking about?” Roseann demanded.

“It was a misunderstanding.” I wished so many people weren't listening.

“But you told me you were going to be a world champion.”

“No, I didn't. You said that,” I protested.

“Even if that's true, you didn't correct me,” Roseann countered. “Ever!”

“I tried to. Kind of. It's just that . . . I thought we'd laugh about it later. A joke, you know?” I said feebly.

“A joke? I don't get your humor, Molly. You think everything's funny. Do you think it would've been funny if I'd handed in this article?” Roseann cried. “Newspapers are supposed to report the truth!”

“I wasn't going to let you do that,” I admitted. “I swear I was going to stop you today.”

“Today? Why not last week, before I begged Mrs. Murphy to let me write about you? Or this week, when you knew I was working so hard on the article?”

Tears stung my eyes. How could I explain to Roseann how much I'd wanted to be her friend? How I'd picked her out on that very first day? How I'd been so afraid I'd mess up everything by telling her?

“I'm so sorry,” I said. “Maybe we could just switch the article a bit. I'll talk to Mrs. Murphy. I'll tell her it was my fault.”

“Forget it, Molly.” Roseann turned to Chrissy. “I want to go home.”

“Sorry. I think we should leave,” Chrissy said to Alex. He'd been staring at me this whole time, his expression changing from amusement to sympathy. Roseann headed towards the door.

“Sure, no problem.” Alex jumped to attention when Chrissy followed Roseann. “Molly, you coming?”

I glanced behind me again. At some point, Sofia had left my side and returned to the floor. Now she ran through her front handspring–front tuck. All the other gymnasts were back to the bars or vault or whatever they'd been doing before. No cheerleaders remained. Even though no one was watching me, I concentrated hard to keep back my tears.

“Molly?” Alex called.

Andre appeared by my side. “Practice is not over yet,” he said to Alex. “You come back in thirty minutes, yes? Moll-le, you go to beam.”

I didn't move. I stared into Andre's ice-blue eyes, willing him to see that I needed a hug and not a front walkover. He didn't get it. Not the way Daria would have. Not the way Eden would have.

I watched Sofia split-leap across the mats, so into her own routine. Then I gazed at Roseann, tapping her
foot by the door where she and Chrissy waited. Which would be worse—staying at the gym or sitting next to Roseann in the back seat?

I groaned. How did I create such a colossal mess?

I followed Alex to the car, leaving Andre and the gym behind. I didn't belong in this gym. I had known that days ago. Maybe my friendship with Roseann could still be fixed.

Roseann spent the car ride home staring out the window. She wouldn't look at me or talk to me. The only time she spoke was when Chrissy asked, “Should we stop for ice cream?”

“Definitely not,” Roseann said.

“I'm sorry,” I said again, quietly, so only she could hear.

Roseann didn't answer.

The airline ticket rested on top of my large canvas duffel bag the next morning. Inside I'd packed two pairs of pajamas and many different changes of clothes. Almost half of my closet. I was all ready to go. Picking up my phone, I reread the texts Eden and I had sent late last night.

Last night, I'd tossed and turned and twisted up my blankets, trying to fall asleep. Finally, at midnight, I'd crawled out of bed to sit at my desk. In the dark, I stared at the ticket on my bulletin board. The answer to my problem was right in front of me. I'd go to Arizona for the weekend!

I had the ticket. Plus Dad had said I could come anytime. Eden was still awake, and we texted. I packed my cutest outfits. I was totally pumped. Now that I had started thinking about going, I couldn't stop.

All I had to do was call Dad.

And tell Mom. But she was fast asleep.

I dialed Dad's number on my cell, but I didn't press Send.

I wasn't sure what exactly to say to him. I wanted to ask him if I could stay. Not just for the weekend. Stay forever. I'd slip right back into school, Daria's gym, and my group of friends, as if I'd only been on vacation. I'd ask Carmen to bring me to the barn to meet Buddy. Maybe I'd finally ride a horse. It was the perfect plan.

I crept back into bed without calling. Should I ask him now or after the plane had landed? I fell asleep before I could decide.

Now I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor and dialed Dad.

“Hello?” His voice sounded heavy with sleep.

I groaned. I'd forgotten it was four o'clock in the morning there. “Hi, Dad, it's me.”

“Molly? What's wrong?” he cried, startled and confused. “Who's hurt?”

“No one's hurt. I'm sorry it's so early. I wanted to talk to you.” I tried to be extrapeppy to make up for the early hour. “I'm going to use that plane ticket you gave me to visit you!”

“Hmmm, that's great.” He yawned. I heard him fumble around on his nightstand for his glasses. “Why don't we talk about that idea later today?”

“That's just it. I'm coming
today
. I went online and checked the airline. A flight leaves this morning and lands early afternoon. You can pick me up at the airport, right?”

“What?” Now he sounded fully awake. “Today? What's going on there? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. I really miss you and Arizona. I want to see you,” I said. “Please?” I wasn't lying. I did miss him.

“Well . . . sure. Okay. A visit is good.” He paused. “Your mom is on board with this sudden plan?”

“Totally.” That was a lie. I hadn't told Mom . . . yet.
I'd been working up the nerve—and giving her time for her morning coffee. I needed a ride to the airport and for her to say yes, and there was no chance of either happening precoffee. Plus, if Dad said yes first, maybe that would help convince her.

“Okay, then, a weekend visit. What time do you and Alex arrive?” he asked.

“Not Alex. Just me.” My voice quavered as I pushed on. “And Dad? I was thinking I'd stay longer than a weekend. Wouldn't it be great if I lived with you? I could ride horses with Carmen, and I'd be a real help around the house.”

Dad said nothing for the longest time, and for a moment, I feared he'd fallen back to sleep.

“Molly, honey, what's going on there?” he asked finally. “You know the arrangement your mom and I have. You and Alex live with her. It's not that I don't want you and love you, but I travel all the time for my business, and Carmen is a flight attendant. We're just not home enough.”

“Yeah, but, maybe there's a way—” I tried.

“Whoa, Molly. I'm not awake enough for this conversation. I don't know why you want to leave your mom—”

“I don't want to leave her,” I interrupted him.

“Molly, I promise I will help you solve whatever problem you are having, but jumping on a plane may not be the answer,” he cautioned.

“You don't know that,” I said.

He sighed. “I don't. Let me think on it and talk to your mom. Hang tight for bit, honey. I love you.”

We said good-bye. A minute later, the house phone rang. I knew Dad was calling Mom. Now I wished I'd talked with her first.

I inspected the ticket. I couldn't imagine abandoning Mom. She cut my fruit the way I liked it. We snuggled on the sofa together at night with cookie-dough ice cream and watched food reality shows. She could tell when I needed a hug and when I needed to be left alone. Dad was often more fun than Mom, but he didn't know any of that.

I didn't really want to live with Dad and Carmen.

I just didn't want to go to Hillsbury Middle School today.

Or ever.

What I wanted was to live with Mom and Alex, but not here.

My phone buzzed. A group message sent by Anna.

Had Roseann not told Anna what had happened? Was I still part of the group? I watched as Grace, Fiona, Miranda, and Roseann texted that they agreed.

Molly? Do u have all?
Anna texted the group when I didn't respond.

I'd assumed Roseann had kicked me out by now. I twisted my silver ring nervously. Should I tell them I wasn't showing up for the talent show? That I was flying to Arizona?

I have an xtra black tank if u need
, Roseann texted the group.

Don't need
, I texted back.

Tonight I'd see Eden. Lying in her trundle bed with her old smiley-face comforter wrapped around me in the dark, I'd tell her what had happened with Roseann. All of it. Eden would know what to do. Maybe her mom had written a blog about it.

“Running out on me?” Mom poked her head in my doorway. Her cheeriness sounded forced. “Flying off?”

“No. I just thought I'd visit Dad.”

Looking suspiciously at my packed bag, she kicked off her heels, then sat next to me on my rug. “What's wrong?”