Page 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

“You must walk until the music stops, Taylor!” I laugh at the boy who keeps pausing to look at me each time he steps onto a new card in the circle. The kids behind him are frustrated, so I shoo him along with my hand. He jogs to catch up to the kids in front of him and everybody else scurries as well. As soon as the kids are evenly spaced again, Tammy pauses the music.

I skim the question on the notecard I hold as Tammy reads hers out loud to the kids. “A story that is composed of facts and real-life events is called what?”

Half a dozen hands shoot into the air, and several kids grunt or hoot eagerly, hoping to be chosen. I scan their faces and choose the quietest girl who rarely tries to answer a question. “Callie.”

“Non-fiction?”

“Yes!” Tammy and I cry at the same time. I jog over to Callie and hand her a bookmark, then give her a high five. She beams at me.

“Okay, who is standing on the non-fiction card?” I ask. My gaze sweeps the circle as the kids look down at their feet.

“I am!” Latisha jumps up and down with excitement.

“Awesome!” I jog over to her and hand her a magnet that says, “Because…books!” with a messy bedroom in the background. We high-five as well. “Way to go, Latisha.”

Summer is coming to a close and I’m feeling unusually maudlin over having to say goodbye to these kids. Today is the last day the reading group meets. I bought a ton of these book-related gifts to give as prizes today, and the idea is that everybody should go home with several of them. So far, we’ve been lucky and different kids have been winning them. They all seem very motivated by the prizes, which makes me feel like a superstar.

The music starts again, so I step back to watch them walk the circle. I never would have expected to like middle school-aged kids so much, but I have had the time of my life helping this summer. Latisha made a couple of very good friends, and they both go to her school, so she will be able to continue to see them regularly.

And Tammy was right. I’ve learned a lot about literature. I’m far from an expert, but I don’t feel like an absolute novice anymore either.

The music turns off and the kids scramble to the nearest card. “Uh, uh, uh!” I say to two kids who are pushing each other to get on the same card. “Just share it!” They look at each other and laugh as they stand shoulder-to-shoulder so that they can each get a foot on the card. I snicker to myself. Kids can be so literal.

“Once upon a time,” Tammy says, “it was the princess's thirteenth birthday. She wore a blue dress to her party, and she got a new cell phone as a present.” The librarian scans all the eager faces. “What point of view is that story told in?”

I think the answer in my head before glancing at the card to make sure I’m correct. I grin and then scan the raised hands. Only three this time. “Lance? ”

“Third person.”

“Yes!” Tammy and I celebrate together.

I run around the circle to give Lance a sticker that says, “Only the cool kids read.”

“Okay, who’s standing on the third person card?” I ask, even though I can already tell by the tiny girl hopping up and down waving her hand. “Lindsay?”

She nods eagerly, and I run a “Books Rule” backpack charm over to her. She’s still hopping up and down after she takes it. “Thank you, Sam. Thanks so much. This is so cool!”

We high five.

“I didn’t get a high five,” Lance says.

“Sorry!” I run back to him to resolve my error.

When the time is up, I get and give hugs to most of the kids as they leave. I’m blinking away tears like I’ve known them forever. It isn’t just the kids I’ve enjoyed. It was the escape from the craziness that I’ve appreciated too.

Nobody here knows about the #NoMoreShame project, or the video. Nobody here wants to share their shame story—even though I would totally listen if they did. Life has been a whirlwind of attention and responsibility and planning and chaos since that video went viral, but twice a week, I got to come here and, for two hours, pretend like it hadn’t happened.

These kids appreciate me because I’m helping them have fun. That’s all. They aren’t looking to me as a leader or savior or anything like that. They just like me because I award them prizes.

It’s funny to think that when I started volunteering, I worried that I wouldn’t know what to do, and now I have my own foundation. It’s been a summer to remember. I’m not sure I’m even the same girl anymore.

Finally, it’s just Latisha, Tammy, and me. Latisha hands me the cards she picked up .

“Oh, thanks for doing that.” I slide them into the envelope Tammy keeps the “Literary Walk” game supplies in, along with my notecard with the questions and answers written on it.

Latisha’s head hangs and I can’t see her face. She looks wilted. It reminds me of when we first met, and for the first time, I realize how much straighter she stands now and how she holds her head up.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask. I dip my own head, trying to catch her gaze, but she shifts away from me.

“I’m never going to see you again,” she mumbles.

Her aunt steps up behind her and our gazes lock over Latisha’s bowed head.

Brandy puts her hands on Latisha’s shoulders. “I was wondering about something.”

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Are there any volunteer opportunities for a seventh-grader and her aunt at the #NoMoreShame project?”

I inhale. “You know about that?”

Brandy snorts. “I’d have to be living under a rock not to know about that.”

I smile because that’s our intent. For everyone to know about it whether they want to or not. Ines has done an excellent job keeping us in the news. “I’m sure there will be events or tasks that we could use your help on. I’d love it if you sign up as volunteers. We have a sign-up form on our website that gives more information.”

Latisha looks from her aunt to me. “So, I’ll see Sam again?”

Brandy nods. “You will.”

Latisha’s eyes sparkle when she turns a grin on me. “Yay!”

I grin back. “Yay is right.”

We hug, and it’s nice to know it isn’t the last time I’ll see Latisha. I watch her and Brandy walk hand-in-hand across the lawn before I grab my stuff and head to my car.

It’s hard for me to get my mind out of the #NoMoreShame project to go back to a mundane life at Oak Grove High. But I decide if I’m going to walk the halls, I’d advertise at the same time. It’s the first day of school, and I’m wearing a t-shirt with my hashtag in bold letters across the front and our brand-new website underneath. I pair the shirt with a cute pair of black shorts, some strappy black sandals, and a black newsboy hat. I hand out magnets, encouraging kids to put them in their lockers, and I tell them their swag order through the website will support a local non-profit group that aids those experiencing shame.

It's the best first day of school I’ve ever had.

Our lunch table looks like a #NoMoreShame marketing meeting with all the swag we are sporting. But it gets the kind of attention I want. Kids come up to us throughout the lunch period and ask questions about the organization. Some want to volunteer. I caution them that not all volunteer jobs are glamorous, but if they are willing to do some grunt work, they can sign up online.

“#NoMoreShame has somehow made you even more popular,” Ava says in a rare moment when it’s just her, Bek, Dylan, and me at the table.

I smile at her. “This is a better reason though.”

They all chorus their agreement. Then Ava gets serious. “I hope you know I never thought badly of your popularity before.”

My eyebrows practically arch off my head. “I never thought that. You always knew about my dating rules and believed one hundred percent in me.”

“Yeah, but,” Dylan scans the room, his gaze stopping on a few faces along the way. “Even if you had slept with every one of those guys, Sam, that’s not for us or anyone else to judge.”

I blink at him and realize that besides our love for Ava, we share this in common. We both have exaggerated reputations. His was a defense mechanism. I was oblivious to how my actions fueled mine. But we are living with the results, nonetheless. I’m hoping to provide a safe place for the people out there who don’t have great friends like Dylan and I do. For those who need a safe place and need some confirmation. And I understand why Dylan jumped in with both feet to support this.

Dylan and I lock eyes across the table, and I smile. “That’s exactly right, bad boy.”

He smirks.

Someone clears their throat next to me. I turn to find Brent standing beside me. A traitorous flutter erupts in my stomach. Has he gotten cuter since I last saw him? When did I last see him? Oh, yeah. The night this all started.

“Hey,” he says. With a tight smile on his face, he greets everyone else.

“Hey Brent,” Ava says. “Welcome to senior year, where you don’t have to take your life in your hands daily having the world’s clumsiest lab partner.”

His smile is genuine now, and I silently thank Ava for breaking the ice. “My parents were relieved to drop the extra hazard insurance.”

Everybody laughs and then Brent shifts his attention to me.

“Hey, I just wanted to say that I told my dad about the stuff that’s come out of you standing up for yourself, and he wanted me to ask you if you’d be interested in doing a book about it.”

Ava and Bek gasp. I lean away from Brent. “What? I barely read books; how am I supposed to write one?”

Brent tilts his head. “I happen to know that you read a lot of books. I’m guessing you’ve switched to ebooks since the guy that works at the bookstore is such an idiot.”

My mouth flaps a couple of times while I process what he just said. Finally, I purse my lips and shake my head. “I literally haven’t had time to read.”

His whole body relaxes, making me realize he was tense. He thought I was avoiding him. And it bothered him. Huh.

“Anyway, Dad’s company would hire a ghostwriter for you. But it would be your story.” Brent shrugs. “It would be a great way to expand the reach of your message.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Great.” With a shy wave to the table, he leaves.

Ava’s gaping at me and Bek seems to be considering me.

“What?” I ask.

“You’ve been reading?” Ava asks.

I laugh. “I was just asked to write a book and that’s what you’re hung up on?”

She waves. “Oh, I was gonna get to that, but let’s take this one shocking revelation at a time.”

Bek nods. “Romantic comedies.”

Stunned, I gawk at her. “How did you know?”

“The movie we went to. You said something that seemed out of place then, but doesn’t seem out of place now.”

“That was months ago, Bek. How do you remember some random thing I said from that long back?”

“It wasn’t just the one thing. There have been several clues along the way.”

Ava gasps. “That conversation about tropes. ”

Bek nods. “The volunteer gig with the…” she arches her brow, “library.”

Ava slams her palm against her forehead. “How did I not see this?”

I shake my head and look up to the ceiling. “Deliver me from overdramatization.”

“Why did you hide it?” Dylan asks.

When I glance at my friends, I can see they’ve already figured it out.

“Because of this.” Ava’s face is pink, and she hides her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Sam. We are literally shaming you over it. Have we learned nothing?”

I cock my head and consider her and Bek’s embarrassment. “Actually, this is perfect.”

They squint at me and Bek asks, “What do you mean?”

I purse my lips, trying to compose my thought so it doesn’t come out as jumbled as it is inside my head. “I want to create a comfortable place for people experiencing shame to feel safe. But I’ve noticed it can also go too far. Sometimes, people become oversensitive and feel they are being shamed over the smallest things.”

Ava shakes her head. “But I was being a total jerk about you reading. How does that make you oversensitive?”

“It doesn’t. And the reason I haven’t shared my new hobby with anyone is because I knew people would give me a hard time. I’ve never been a reader. I was the first to admit it. And my social personality doesn’t lend itself to being studious or even bookish. But,” I raise an eyebrow and wag a finger in the air. “There has to be some grace in the situation as well. And that’s what you just showed me.

“Sure, I could’ve felt shame because of the things you said. And, honestly, a month ago, I would have. But now, because a spotlight is shining on it, I’ve witnessed others become over-sensitized to shame. I see now that it’s important we include an educational aspect of forgiveness in our #NoMoreShame language. We can’t expect every person we meet to be sensitive to our needs or what might trigger us. Bullying and cruelty are wrong and unacceptable. But there is an aspect of teasing or joking that either requires forgiveness or edification.”

Bek pats my hand. “I hope you write that book, Sam.”

“Can you believe that?” I bury my hands in my hair. “They want me to write a book! That’s nuts. I’ll have to talk to Lincoln about it.”

“He can negotiate the book deal for you,” Ava says.

“Oh, that reminds me. Can you guys help man the booth at the street fair on Labor Day?”

They all nod.

“Thanks so much. I’m super nervous about it and it’ll help so much to have all three of you there.”

Just then, a kid steps up to the table. Her cheeks are already red, so I know she’s outside her comfort zone by approaching us. She’s so small, she looks like she belongs in middle school. I don’t recognize her, so she’s probably a freshman.

“Hi,” I say brightly.

“I’m wondering where I can get a shirt.”

“We sell them on the website.” I point to the URL on my shirt, only slightly embarrassed that I’m pointing to my boobs.

She pulls out her phone and types in the URL. I see her eyes scanning before she looks up and smiles. “Thanks.”

We watch her leave and Ava sighs.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s super great that there is so much interest, but we are going to be really busy fulfilling those orders.”

“We? With school and your work schedules, I’ll be lucky if you guys help ship anything!” I grin as I look around the room. “But that’s okay. Ines and Lincoln can help. Bridget will probably help, too. And believe it or not, Mom and Dad have been pitching in with things. And we have a growing list of volunteers to call on if we need to.”

“Aw, this is really bringing your family together, huh?” Ava asks.

“I think it’s a combination of this and the wedding. We have so many reasons to spend time together, suddenly. It is nice though. I wish Cisco and Justice could be here, too.”

“Okay, now to address the elephant in the room.” Ava gives me a significant look.

Bek scans the lunchroom. “There’s no elephant.”

“Thank you, Bek,” I say.

Dylan chuckles while Ava squints at Bek. “The elephant being Brent. What’s going on there, Sam?”

I shrug. “Clearly nothing.”

“It sounds like there is so much history between you two.” Ava cocks her head. “What did he mean by you switched to ebooks?”

“You know about my “making myself available” concept. I was actually buying a new book every couple of days because I was reading so much. But I haven’t been there for a while now. At first, it was because I didn’t want to see him after he admitted he didn’t think we’d make a good couple because I was so experienced.”

Bek rolls her eyes. “I think you are over dramatizing what happened, Sam.”

Maybe I am. I shrug. “That was shortly before all of this happened.” I point to my shirt. “As a matter of fact, it helped to fuel it.” I take a deep breath to calm my ire. There’s no use getting worked up over it again. Especially since I’ve addressed it publicly. “Anyway, it seems clear to me that bookish boys don’t date social girls. I don’t need no stinking boys, anyway. It’s been a long, weird summer. In the end, I’m glad it came to a head. Now, I have other things to concentrate on. I do miss reading though.”

“I’m sorry you felt you had to hide that from us,” Bek says. She brightens and leans forward in her chair. “Ooo! I have a great book for you. I literally grinned through the entire book. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

“Cool! Thanks.”

The bell rings. We all head separate ways for our next class. As I leave the lunchroom, I see Brent watching me from across the cafeteria with a contemplative look on his face. Not seeing him makes me sad. I really enjoyed our little chats at the bookstore. He’s very easy to get along with. I tip my chin up as I stride down the hall. Like I told my friends, my weird summer was for the best. I love my new self. And someday, I’m sure I’ll find someone else who can love the new me, too.