Booked Read online

  P.S. Be Eleven

  Dreams Come True

  Ms. Hardwick’s moving

  to another state to teach

  The twins got kicked out

  for the rest of the year

  April’s coming to your house

  Your family is back together

  And you start back soccer soon.

  Finally, normal seems possible

  again.

  Today, Coby called

  when he got back from Dallas.

  Asked you to come over.

  You said no, told him

  you had to clean up,

  which was half true.

  You didn’t have to,

  you wanted to,

  ’cause Mom said

  the only way she’d let April

  come over

  was if you cleaned

  the refrigerator,

  your bathroom,

  and your room,

  and organized the closet.

  So you limped around

  and did just that

  happily.

  Knock Knock

  Your mother answers the door,

  and you hear April’s voice, but

  wait: she is not alone. ARGGGH!

  Twain*

  Thanks for inviting us, Nick, April says.

  US?

  Mom shoots you a look like you knew all these people were coming.

  You didn’t!

  Saida and Maisha

  are behind April,

  followed by

  Annie, Kellie,

  and,

  get this,

  Winnifred.

  Nerds and Words

  I can’t even imagine living in a dust storm, says Kellie. I really felt like I was right there with Billie Jo.

  Yeah, me too, says Saida, ’cause my dad is sad a lot too.

  He’s sad because he lost his job, Saida, Maisha says to her sister, and then we’re all quiet, ’cause that is sad.

  Well, I like that Mad Dog likes her,

  but why doesn’t he just tell her? Annie says.

  You mean like you wish Robbie Howard would tell you? Kellie giggles.

  And that’s when you realize you’re in a book club

  with all girls, which is insane.

  April smiles at you. What do you think, Nick? she asks.

  Just then, your mom comes out

  of the kitchen

  with a tray of cookies,

  and,

  get this,

  tea, and

  now you’re sipping tea

  with a bunch of girls, and

  so glad

  that no guys

  are here

  to see you.

  What were you about to say, Nick?

  Uh, I was just gonna, uh, say

  that I liked it, I guess.

  Did you have a favorite part? she asks.

  You know your mom’s listening

  from the kitchen when you say, Yeah,

  on page 205

  when Billie Jo

  tells her dad,

  I can’t be my own mother . . .

  A Long Walk to Water

  At the end of the meeting

  Winnifred starts

  blabbering

  about some book

  we MUST READ NEXT

  because

  her older sister says

  it’s hauntingly beautiful

  and gut-wrenching

  and it’s based

  on a true story

  about boy soldiers

  in Sudan

  and she gave it

  five stars

  and blah blah blah

  and April interrupts with:

  I think Nicky has a suggestion.

  Your Suggestion

  Can we please choose

  a book with a boy this time—

  Weren’t you listening? Winey interrupts. It is about a boy.

  Preferably in this time period, you continue.

  I need a break from history, I’m just sayin’.

  Like what? Winnifred whines.

  Like Peace, Locomotion,

  an epistolary novel, which

  means a—

  I KNOW WHAT EPISTOLARY MEANS, she shouts, still frowning. IT’S A BOOK WRITTEN IN LETTERS.

  Great choice, April says, and winks

  at you.

  Bye, Nick

  Thanks for hosting the club, she

  says, and hugs you. Tell your mom

  I can’t wait for tomorrow.

  Huh?

  Family Meeting

  Why’d you go and do that?

  I thought you’d like it, Nicky. It’ll be fun.

  What if I need my crutches? My ankle’s still a little sore.

  You’ll be on a horse—why do you need crutches?

  MOM, IT’S NOT FAIR. You can’t just be setting up a date for me.

  It’s not a date. It’s just me, you, and April riding horses.

  . . .

  Well, I like her. She’s a nice girl.

  Yeah, I know.

  I was thinking that for the wedding, we would—

  Stop making fun!

  What’s all the commotion? Dad says, coming in through the garage.

  Well, your eighth grade son is afraid of a girl.

  I’m not afraid, Dad. She’s just setting up outings and whatnot without my permission.

  I’m afraid this is grounds for a family meeting. Meet me in the living room.

  We’re already in the living room, Dad.

  Right! Okay, well, present your case.

  You start talking and Dad interrupts—

  Ladies first, sir.

  Thank you, Mom says, all prim and proper-like. Well, I met his girlfriend—

  She’s not my girlfriend. I object.

  So noted, says Dad. Carry on, Milady.

  I figured he might want to hang with her outside of school, and I thought since he’s so good at riding—

  Nicholas, are you good at riding?

  Dad, this isn’t about—

  Just answer the question, please.

  Yes.

  Do you like this April girl?

  Uh, I guess.

  Yes or no answer, please.

  Yeah.

  Will you have fun with her?

  Probably, but I’m not fully recovered, and—

  Are you going back to school next week?

  Yes.

  Based on the evidence that’s been presented, I rule in favor of the defendant. The date shall commence tomorrow.

  WOOHOO! Mom yells.

  That’s not fair, you say.

  The judge has decided, Mom counters.

  Let’s hug it out, Dad says,

  and the three of you do,

  just like old times

  and hopefully new ones, too.

  Text to Coby

  Who beat y’all?

  A team from Mexico. They were fast!

  Bummer.

  Your team got beat too.

  I heard.

  But it was cool. I met Pelé.

  NO FREAKIN’ WAY! REALLY?

  Well, I saw him from, like, a distance, but yeah.

  Cool!

  So what’s up with you?

  Everything’s great. My mom and dad are back together.

  Really?

  Really.

  That’s what’s up.

  Looks like you had a lot of fun in Dallas. I saw your pics.

  Not as fun as it coulda been. Wasn’t the same.

  Same as what?

  Same as if you were there. If you want, we can play FIFA after school.

  Can’t. I’m booked.

  You’re booked?

  Yup. I got a date tomorrow.

  A date? With who?

  April Farrow.

  Yeah, right. Where y’all going?

  Riding horses.

  Atta-boy!

  When April

  gets out

  of
Mom’s rental SUV

  and walks over

  to the stable,

  only one word

  can describe

  the way she

  moves

  in those

  blue jeans:

  callipygous.*

  Rock Horse Ranch

  Use the steel comb

  like this, you say to April,

  demonstrating how

  to remove

  the caked-on dirt.

  Then take this soft brush

  and rub over her, yep,

  just like that, to wash away

  the dust.

  You’re doing great, April.

  You know a lot about horses, Nick, she says.

  I guess.

  You know a lot about everything. Is it true you skipped a grade?

  Yeah, second.

  You’re so smart, Nicky.

  . . .

  Okay, check her feet

  with a hoof pick, to clear out

  the little rocks and stuff, you say.

  Are you feeling better, Nick?

  Yeah, pretty much.

  Are you still gonna play soccer?

  Uh, YEAH!

  Well, that’s good. ’Cause you’re pretty good.

  I know.

  (We both laugh.)

  Miss Quattlebaum told me

  to tell you hi.

  Maybe I’ll be in class

  on Monday, Milady, you say, not

  looking up, and wishing

  you hadn’t said that.

  Let’s mount this pony, she says.

  Whoa, cowgirl, you tell her. We

  still have to put the saddle on.

  Oh, right. Sorry, Nick.

  Let me do the saddle, it’s kind of heavy.

  Want me to help you, Nick?

  I’m good.

  But you’re not, ’cause you stumble,

  fall flat

  on your rumpelstiltskin.

  Having trouble over there? Mom hollers, laughing.

  Now April’s trying not to laugh. And failing.

  Even the horse got jokes. He neighs.

  Let me help you up, cowboy, April says, grinning.

  You okay?

  I’m good.

  You said that before, Mom hollers. Still laughing.

  You jump up, saddle the horse.

  Yep, let me help you up.

  Mom comes over with her horse.

  I’ve got an idea, Nicky, she says. It’s her first time, so

  one of us needs to pull

  April’s horse around

  until she gets the feel for it.

  I thought you were going to do it, Mom?

  Uh, no, Momma’s gonna be riding.

  Well, I can’t do it.

  I’m riding too.

  I’ll be fine, Mrs. Hall, April says.

  Mom shoots you a look.

  Here’s my idea, she says.

  How about for the first few times

  around the field,

  April rides with you.

  Solves all our problems, right?

  Sounds like a plan to me, April says.

  Blackjack.

  Afterward

  PLEASE, MOM!

  We just want to

  go to the mall.

  It’s not that late.

  Her parents said

  she could go.

  We’re just gonna

  walk around,

  maybe see

  a movie.

  Her friend

  Charlene can meet us

  there too.

  You can come also.

  THANK YOU! THANK YOU!

  By the way, would you mind

  sitting a few rows in front of us,

  like maybe, uh, twenty-one?

  You absolutely love

  it each time

  a zombie

  lunges at a human

  and chomps on flesh

  because it makes April

  grab the legs

  next to hers,

  one of which

  is yours.

  Thank You

  I had a great time with you

  and your mom. Your parents rock!

  You’re so lucky. Guess I am.

  Later, at Dinner

  Mom and Dad stop whispering

  when you get to the table.

  Nicky, I made your favorite, she says. Lobster

  mac-and-cheese. Figured you needed

  a break from the mustard. We both kinda laugh.

  And I even made cupcakes. Red velvet, Dad adds.

  By made, your father means he MADE

  his way to the cupcakery and bought them.

  We all laugh, and it feels

  like love is back,

  like home again,

  just like it’s supposed

  to feel.

  Conversation with Mom and Dad

  Nicky?

  Yep, Mom?

  I’m leaving on Thursday.

  What do you mean?

  I’ve got to get back to work, honey.

  But you’re coming back, right?

  To visit.

  Huh? I don’t understand.

  The Derby’s coming up. It’s my obligation to get Bite My Dust prepared. You understand, right, Nicky? They need me.

  But I thought you quit, Mom.

  Quit? Why would I—

  I mean, it’s just that me, you, and Dad have been . . . I mean, things are normal again.

  Nicholas, your mother and I have decided to get a divorce.

  A DIVORCE? But, I thought, uh, I just . . . I, we—

  I was afraid of this, Dad says to Mom.

  Afraid of WHAT, that I would think you two would get your life together and not ruin mine again?

  Your father and I love each other, and we always will, but sometimes life and work and love don’t all mesh.

  I don’t even know what that means.

  Nicholas, your mother and I are just, uh, uncompossible.

  It’s IN, incompossible,* not UN. Look it up, you say, and start getting up from the table.

  We’re sorry, honey.

  Yeah, me too. Sorry some horse’s needs are more important than mine.

  Nicky, come back. Let’s talk about this.

  . . .

  What happens to a dream destroyed?

  Does it sink

  like a wrecked ship in the sea?

  Or wade in the water

  like a boy overboard?

  Maybe it just floats

  around and around . . .

  or does it drown?

  On the way to the airport

  Mom tells you

  how proud

  she is

  of the man

  you’re becoming

  and makes you

  promise to

  call

  or text her

  every day,

  eat healthier,

  quit cutting

  your nails

  on the living room floor, and

  keep your

  grades up.

  Maybe you and Coby want to come to the Derby, she adds.

  No thanks, we have soccer obligations, you answer.

  Sinking

  In the car

  on the way home

  the engine battles

  the hum of silence and

  sadness

  that envelops

  you.

  He finally says something . . . random.

  Nicholas, the world is an infinite sea of endless possibility.

  Yeah, well, it feels like there’s a big freakin’ hole in my ship, Dad.

  Conversation with Dr. Fraud

  Is Eminem your favorite rapper?

  Huh?

  The last time we spoke, you were quoting him.

  He’s not my favorite rapper, though.

  Well, I’m more old school. Ever heard of the Fresh Prince?

  The old TV show?

  Yeah,
but he’s also a rapper.

  Okay.

  How did you decide to handle the bullying?

  It’s handled.

  So it’s not an issue?

  I don’t think so.

  And what about your bike?

  Uh, what about it?

  Do you want it back?

  Those hellkites* are gone, so that’s all I really wanted.

  Nice word. Your mother mentioned you were exceptionally articulate.

  Didn’t really have a choice about that.

  What do you mean?

  My father forces me to read his dictionary. Has since I was nine.

  What don’t you like about it?

  The part where I have to READ it.

  Would you rather not be exceptionally articulate?

  Maybe.

  So you’d just prefer to be normal?

  I guess.