“What?”

She unturtles.

“Mom thinks something’s wrong with

me since I’m as big as a whale.”

“Well, that is messed up.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No! Your mom’s thinking. Not you!”

Could Catalina be right?

Could it be Mom’s thinking that needs fixing

and

not me?

MISSING VIV

Survived a storm,

thanks to Catalina,

but may not survive my punishment

for riding a DART bus.

“Hey, no texting while I’m talking,”

Dad says as he drives me to see Doc.

“But Viv heard about the tornado

and wanted to know if we’re okay.

I had to tell her what happened.”

Just then my phone pings

and my dad sighs.

Why were you riding that bus?

With Catalina?

I’m jealous.

You still love me best?

Text yes or no.

LOL.

I start to reply, but Dad interrupts.

“That’s enough.”

“But, Dad—”

“No buts.

I want to know what in the Sam Hill

made you think it was okay

to ride the bus by yourself?”

“I had no other way to get home,” I tell him.

“Where was Liam?” he asks.

“Liam had a date.”

“Well now,

this story has more twists than

a pretzel factory.”

Dad shakes his head as

he drums his fingers

on the steering wheel.

“Liam will be in a mess of trouble.

You can hang your hat on that.

But you’re a smart girl, Ellie.

You could have called me or

your aunt Zoey.

I expect you to make a better decision,

one that will keep you safe,

if something like this ever happens again.

You hear?”

I nod and cry.

Dad thinks my tears won’t stop

because of what Liam did.

Who cares about him?

I’m crying because I didn’t

get to reply to Viv’s text.

I’m crying because she’s so far away.

I’m crying because

I’m missing Viv so much.

LET THERE BE LIGHT—SABERS

What’s more frightening

than a twister coming at you

is a tornado of emotions inside of you.

I want to talk to Viv, not a therapist.

I flop down on the couch.

“What’s going on?” Doc asks.

I fold my arms across my chest.

“Oh, we’re back to that again.

Got it.

If you need anything,

I’ll just be over there

practicing my Jedi training.”

She walks over to the shelves

stocked with games and art supplies,

grabs a lightsaber, and

turns it on.

Pshewww.

She spins and slices it through the air

in some kind of imaginary duel.

She grabs another saber

and throws it to me.

“Help me, Obi-El!”

Oh, what the heck.

Pshewww.

I join the battle.

Every time I strike Doc’s saber,

she defends herself.

“So, tell me about school.”

“Marissa and Kortnee—”

“Oh, yes, the dark side,” she chimes in.

“Marissa put on my new shirt after gym.

Told Kortnee they’d probably both fit in it.

And ripped it.”