Mean by Justin Sayre

Author:Justin Sayre
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2019-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

By the time I get to my locker at the end of the day there are about twenty-five texts from my aunt, all of them anxious and most of them containing more caps than seems fair. She has to know I’m in school, and I can’t just be texting her all day, though it seems that’s exactly what she wants. Ducks is waiting for me by my locker, waiting to walk home, as I start to scroll through them.

“Are you in trouble or something?” Ducks asks, peering over my shoulder.

“Probably.” I smirk. Let’s see how many more texts I get by the time I’m home. I know Aunt Debbie means well, and I know she’s totally taking so much of this on herself, but she can also relax. Everybody else seems pretty chill. Dad writes checks for whatever she asks, and I approve things like napkins and party favors. But maybe we’re chill because she’s not.

Everybody at the party is getting a little goody bag with chocolate swords and elf ears, which she thinks is sooooo cute. I am happy with all her choices, even though we’re still arguing over the tots. She doesn’t feel like they’re fancy enough for this affair. That’s my party now, it’s an “affair.”

I know I should be more excited about it all, but it seems like such a big deal for something that’s a lot less flashy. I don’t want to think about all those things, because they don’t seem like the serious part. I want to think about what it’s really about. I want to think about what it means. I’m trying to think about what it means to say these words in a different language in front of my family and to show that I understand them and become a woman. That’s the part I’m worried about. All the napkins and party favors and DJs with elf ears won’t help me with that.

Ducks has been a little quiet since he came back to school. Not the quiet where you know he wants to talk about something but can’t, but very still. I haven’t asked about the texts with Charlie. I figured he would have told me by now, and the fact that he hasn’t lets me know to at least wait a minute to see if he does. It’s strange to see him like this, like he’s been hollowed out or something. He looks like there’s nothing going on in his head, and I know him; there’s always something going on in his head.

He doesn’t look sad or mopey. He’s smiling and talking to me about homework, which I guess means he’s at least paying attention, but he’s not worrying or freaking out about any of it. That might sound normal for anyone else, but to me, or to anyone else who knows Ducks, you know there’s something seriously wrong.

“What do I have to wear to your bat mitzvah? A tie?” Ducks asks.

“Sure, if you want. I mean, you have to dress up like if you were going to church or a fancy dinner,” I answer.

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