“What’s going on?” I ask. “It’s Lizard, right?

She told you something bad about me, right?”

“Oh, Betsy,” Zoey says. “She told us

what happened to your mom.”

I Stare at Zoey

I can’t figure out what on earth

she’s talking about. Well, okay,

I guess I can, but why on earth

would Lizard share this with the others?

Unless she was explaining why she doesn’t

want to be friends with me anymore, after all?

I’m so confused that the words

come pouring out of me in a rush.

“What happened to my mom?

That she didn’t get her grant?

And had this big huge meltdown?

And it was horrible?

I mean, it really was horrible,

and Lizard saw the whole thing,

but I’m pretty sure everything

is going to be better now.

My mom got invited to this big-deal

conference, so that will cheer

her up, and my dad’s home now

from his own big-deal trip.

You haven’t met my dad yet,

but when he’s around,

everything gets better

all the time for everyone.

So I don’t know why Lizard

even told you this.”

What Zoey Says

I expect to see Zoey’s face light up with relief

that the bad thing Lizard told her about my mom

ended up being

not so terrible.

But instead her face looks like

the face in this famous picture

of a person screaming

on a bridge somewhere—

wide eyes and open mouth,

maybe not screaming out loud,

but a silent scream,

like when you’re in a bad

dream and you’re trying

to call for help

and no sound comes out.

She puts her hand on my arm,

and says,

“I didn’t realize—

Lizard didn’t tell us that—

I thought you already knew—”

And then in my heart

I do know

now.

Mr. Delgado Claps His Hands

“Flowers! Up on stage!

We’re already running late today!

Girls, it’s time for singing,

not time for gabbing.

You two in the back—

Zoey, Betsy—yes,

I’m talking to you!”

Instead of Going Up on Stage

Without a word,

I break free from Zoey.

I race out the rear door

of the auditorium.

Dad answers his phone

on the first ring.

“What’s going on with Mom really?

Why didn’t you tell me?”

We Are Sitting on the Couch in the Family Room

He’s on one end.

I’m on the other.

I tried to make him tell me everything

before I would even get in the car.

But he said, “Not here, honey.

We can’t talk here.”

When we got home, he wanted me

to sit right next to him,

so he could pull me close to him

and hold me while we talked.

But I said,

“No. I want to sit here.”

So I’m as far away from him on the couch

as he is from me in my heart.