Unity Club by Karen Spafford-Fitz

Author:Karen Spafford-Fitz
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9781459817265
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2018-06-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Jude isn’t in the drama room after school. I delay starting the meeting for as long as I can. I keep hoping he’ll show up. I pretend to be busy shuffling through some supplies at the back of the room. Amira is doing her best to avoid looking at me the entire time.

“Is this meeting ever gonna happen?” Georgia says.

My stomach twists into a knot. I go and join the group. “I guess we’d better get started,” I say. “First of all, we had a really good turnout for Mini Gym Kids last night. But we could still use more volunteers, especially now that the grade-one students are participating too.”

I know I need to mention the damaged bench, but I can’t do it yet.

“Fairview Court is still shut down because of the f lu outbreak,” I say instead. “But they have probably given the blankets to the new senior citizens who live there by now.”

“They have for sure,” Kaden says.

Given how rarely Kaden says anything, everyone turns and stares.

“My grandmother moved there six weeks ago,” Kaden explains. “She loves her new blanket. She couldn’t believe at first that it was hers to keep.”

“That’s so sweet,” Amira says.

Kaden nods. “One of the residents had a stroke a while back. Since then he hasn’t been able to use the left side of his body very much. But Gran said he kept smiling and touching the blanket—with his left hand.”

I’m staring at Kaden. I can hardly believe he just shared that with the group. Is this really the same guy who has been surly and difficult the past few months? For a moment, I get a glimpse of what a good Unity Club president he might have made.

“That’s amazing, Kaden,” I say.

“Yeah, thanks for telling us.” Amira’s eyes are filled with tears.

I’m about to smile at Amira, but I stop myself. Are we still friends or not? She turns away, so I guess we aren’t.

“And the last thing,” I try to keep my voice steady, “is the scarves we knit for the group-home kids. I sent them over there with Jude. I’m sure they appreciate them.”

“They’d better,” Georgia mutters.

“Yeah,” Suresh says. “After what they did to our bench.”

My face burns. Many of the students are nodding. It’s time for me to address this.

I take a deep breath. “We need to talk about the bench,” I say. “I get that everyone is upset. I’m really sad too for our friends at the seniors’ home. Maybe we can talk about launching another fundraiser for a new—”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Tassie interrupts. “I don’t have the heart to do more bake sales and bottle drives.”

“Me either,” Eliza says. “And I don’t care what Ms. Chen said at the assembly. I think we all know who wrecked our bench.”

“Absolutely,” Suresh says. “None of this stuff was happening until the group home went in.”

It suddenly feels like someone cranked up the heat in the room. I’m fighting to keep my voice even.

“Look,” I say. “We don’t have to decide right now about fundraising for another bench.

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