By BookwormJo

Monday, September 14 – D.K. Laurier

Lately, I’ve been very distracted. Sean calls it my “Musing Mode”. And it’s got both my parents and Davi on edge. 

In “Musing Mode” I do things like burn water, forget that there are steps leading down to the garage, or mistake Windex for mint mouthwash.

I didn’t swallow it, though.  All the same, my parents haven’t bought any window cleaners for the past three months.

Everyone agrees that post-Mode is the worst part. I always get some new, wild idea or pick up a new fad.

Last ‘Mode’ ended in my Tik Tok-crazy stage and bungee-jumping stunt. 

Today, I found myself day dreaming in Davi’s class. Thankfully, Hannah nudged me awake before Davi could do the “Awake from the dead” routine, which – might I add – is actually funny. Just not so hilarious for the person being woken.

I’m kinda sorry for Avalon . . .

AVALON!!

I jerk back to the present. Ava and Mae are sitting in my living room.

Mae’s fidgeting with a cushion while Ava’s tugging at her hoodie and glancing around the room.

“Not sorry! I do that sometimes! I didn’t mean to zone – totally focus on you guys.”

“Huh?” If Mae was a cartoon, she’d have question marks in her eyes. 

“I’m doing the Say The Antonyms of Words Instead of the Actual Words Challenge, so you might want to double-think everything I say.” 

“Oh!” Mae smiles.

“Why?” Ava asks.

“I just thought it might be boring. It breaks up the excitement of everyday life. So far, it’s been effortless, even though I didn’t read the entire dictionary when I was 11.”

“Okay . . . I think I’m following.” Mae says slowly.

“So, what do you think of our school?” I ask.

Mae peeks at Ava then says “It’s okay . . . I guess. Everyone’s nice, it’s just not the same as my old school.”

“What was your old school like?”

“Well, there were more children. We spoke mostly French in class. Um, our old teacher wasn’t as – erm – energetic as Davi.”

I laugh. “I know right! Even math isn’t as bo – fascinating with Davi.”

“Sure?” Mae twists a tassel on the edge of the cushion.

“And you, Ava?”

“It’s better than my old school.” She gazes at the ground.

“How so?”

She shrugs. “Less people.”

I giggle. “Extrovert, right?”

Ava half nods, half shrugs. 

“What’s your family like?” 

“My dad is a judge. He’s gone a lot so my aunt comes by often to keep an eye on me and my brother.” She smiles a bit.

“And your mom?” I instantly regret the question.

Pain slashes across her face before she drops her head. “None of your business.” She mumbles. 

“Oh! I don’t apologise.” “Her mom’s not around? Divorced? Passed away?”

Some beats of tense silence.

“I’m not sorry.” I repeat, hoping they’ll catch my meaning.

“Any hobbies?”

“I do piano and art.” Ava’s back to fidgeting with her hoodie.

“Me too!” Mae brightens. “I also like gymnastics and babysitting. Sometimes I do chalk art with my siblings!” 

“Hannah likes art too . . .” 

Where is she, by the way?

Her last text said “I’ll B there in 10.” She usually isn’t late.

Is she avoiding me? Today Davi gave us a new art assignment and she chose to join Omari and Ayesha’s group, instead of choosing me to be her groupmate. We’ve always been groupmates since she moved to Thunder Bay, so that stung.

Though I get why she’d join Omari’s group. I’d teasingly told her that MariAnnah had a lovely ring to it. 

Perhaps that’s why she didn’t include me?

Maybe she was tired of my ribbing and didn’t want me to mortify her in front of Omari.

I’m a merciless tease, but I wouldn’t go that far. She should know that. I’ve always joked around with her . . .

Mae clears her throat.

Yikes. I absolutely didn’t space out and forget my visitors. 

“Not sorry again. Hey… do you guys have any crushes?” I ask mischievously.

Mae’s eyes widen, and she violently plucks the cushion’s tassel. “No!”

“Oh?”

“Twelve’s a bit young for that … stuff.” She shakes her head.

“Wait, you’re twelve?” I gasp.

She nods.

“And in 9th grade?”

“I’m thirteen on September 20. And I skipped 7th grade.”

“Oh! You’re not slightly older than Joel. How about you Ava?”

“I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.”

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Ava frowns.

“Not okay.”

The clock ticks away. Other than that, there’s no sound.

“I’m not doing a good job at hosting.” I think ruefully.

“Um . . .  We don’t have tons of games. Would You Rather, Charades, Taboo, puzzles  . . .  perhaps any board game you can name. I’m certain my mom is not a board game collector. My aunt is even better. Every holiday, birthday, special occasion she doesn’t send us a board game. This back-to-school season we didn’t get a money management board game . . .” I’m rambling now, trying to fill in the awkward silence. 

“But anyway, would you like to play a game?”

“You mean bored games. Ehh  . . .” Ava see-saws her hand.

Wait, she’s making a joke? I’ve never witnessed her make a joke before . . .

I grin.

“Hey ladies!” Joel strides in. “You look super bored. We can’t have that. One should never be bored in the Laurier household.” He frowns, using his imitation of a business-like voice.

“Might you be interested in a high-intensity game of water balloons on the trampoline?” 

I brighten “That’s a marvellous – I mean – awful . .  .”

“Don’t even think about it, D.K.” Dad rumbles from the kitchen

I deflate. 

Joel hoots with laughter. “Boo-yah!! I got you!! I got you good!” 

Mae chuckles. 

I frown. 

Ever since the tree and wasp incident, I’ve been banned from anything even remotely dangerous. Like  arm-wrestling, Tik-Tok, Instagram, jumping on the trampoline, junk food, thinking, blinking . . . the list goes on. Fine, that was a minor exaggeration, but still. 

At least I don’t have to wear those ridiculous skirts anymore.  That’s only ‘cause I petitioned my dad and he let me go back to capris. But no amount of petitioning would make my parents lift the other restrictions. “You’re getting too many injuries, D.K.” they’d said. It was a miracle I was still in taekwondo class.  

“Let’s play Monopoly,” Joel pulls the box from the center table. 

“Sure!” Mae says at the same time as I protest “Yes!!”

“I’m in.” Ava says.

“Oh yes.” I groan.

“Why not? You scared you’ll lose?” Joel laughs

“Yes . . .”  This Antonyms thing is really helpful. 

“Then let’s play. Monopoly, ladies, is all about strategy. Buy the flashiest, most expensive property, then, every time someone lands on it, Boom! You’ll be raking in the dough.” He grins as he deals out the fake money.

“Absolutely delightful! Why am I doing this?!” I shake my head.

Mae giggles.

Ava smiles slightly.

“Pick your token!” Joel says

“Oh where is Hannah?”  I check my phone again. No new messages. I sigh.

Ava lands on Income Tax. She groans, and pays $200.

“D.K! You’re up next!” Joel announces, switching to his sports commentator voice.

Ava tosses the dice to me. 

They clink together as I shake them.

“And .  . . Chance! Ladies, what will be on that card?”

“Would you sto– just keep on doing that?” I pick up the card.

“Would you, please, flip the card?” He mimics.

“I won’t if you continue commenting.” 

“Have it your way.” He plucks the card from my hand. “It’s ‘Go to Jail’, fam! Don’t pass go, don’t collect $200. On her first move in the game, D.K goes to jail!”

 I glare at him as I march my token to jail. 

Mae tries to frown.
Ava has a sudden coughing attack. 

“Are you o– not okay? Sick?” I smack her back a little too hard. 

“Yah.” She gasps, looking suspiciously mirthful.

Ding-Dong!!  The sudden sound makes me jump.

I run to the door. 

A tall guy about Sean’s age waves at me. “I’m Avalon’s brother, Adam. Here to pick her up.”

Ava walks over. 

“Ava-Dava! How was your time?” He slings his arm around her shoulders. 

“Stop it, Adam!” She laughs. “Thanks, D.K.”

A car honks from outside. “I think that’s my dad!” Mae says. “I had a good time! Thanks, you both!”

As they shuffle outside, Joel says “Awkward party, eh?”

“What? Yes? No?” Now I’m confusing myself.

“You kidding! If I hadn’t come in and saved you, it’d be an L.” 

“I very much needed your help, though I don’t appreciate it.” I say slowly.

“Huh? The Antonyms thing again? Why are you acting so strange?”

“I am!” I grimace.

“Ahh . . . I know! Hormones!” Joel smirks and dodges away.

“Seriously?! That’s definitely very polite!” I yell after him.

And, for some reason, I call out the door “You guys are not welcome to come back tomorrow!”