The Names They Gave Us by Emery Lord

Author:Emery Lord
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2016-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

At Friday lunch, I realize I haven’t seen Anna all day—not even in passing.

I’m behind Simmons in the buffet line, and I nudge her. “Have you seen Anna today?”

“She’s staying in. Bad anxiety day.”

“Oh, right.” Anna’s mentioned it, and I know she stops into Miss Suzette’s every day to take meds. But I’ve never really seen the effects. “Did something happen?”

“Nope. It just pops up sometimes.” Keely turns, considering me. “You should stop by, actually. She’s in her room. She may not want company, but sometimes she does.”

“Yeah?”

I don’t exactly know how to help someone with an anxiety disorder—or if I even can. But I know Anna would show up for me. “Okay. I’ll make us a plate of food and head over there. That okay?”

Keely nods. “Yeah. I’ll tell Garcia. She has to leave and teach volleyball to the seventh graders.”

I’ve only been in Rhea’s cabin one other time, when Anna invited me in to watch a movie after lights-out. Her room is small and on the first floor, and it is full of Anna things: a scuffed-up soccer ball in the corner next to her cleats, a tote bag full of yarn and knitting needles, photos of her family wearing cream-colored sweaters in a backyard.

The door is open, and she’s bundled up in bed, gaze locked on her laptop. It’s playing a movie or something—young bickering voices in the otherwise quiet room.

“Hey,” I say, lingering in the doorway. “Can I come in?”

Her eyes flick up to me. “Sure.”

“Sorry you’re having a bad day. Can I do anything?”

A shrug, shoulders barely lifting above the bedding. The top blanket is one of hers, knitted in navy and white for her favorite soccer team. Or, as she and Mohan call it: football.

“Anna.”

She looks up at me again but says nothing.

“Well, okay. But if you change your mind . . . I’d like to help. You’d do it for me.”

This seems to land, and she considers my presence in front of her. “You can stay here for a little bit. If you want to. I might fall asleep, though. I took medicine that’s supposed to help me relax enough to sleep.”

“Not a problem. You hungry?” I hold out the plate, which is heavy with a turkey burger and sweet potato tots.

“No, thanks.”

“More for moi.” I pull her desk chair up to the bed and dig in. “You missed quite the breakfast bickering match this morning. There were tears.”

“Jones told me. I’m actually terrible with confrontation. Poor Manda and Wren. Seventh grade is just a shitshow, top to bottom.”

“Right? It’s just like . . . a full year of acne and awkward body stuff. And the social cruelty—it’s like kids are figuring out how to be truly mean that year.”

This makes Anna smile a bit. “You’re telling me.”

“Oh . . . Lord.” I try to imagine navigating junior high as a trans girl. How kids might be.

She laughs darkly at my expression. “Yeah, well. I survived.”

“Well, anyway,” I say. “If you feel better, do you still want to go into town tonight?”

“Yeah.

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