Day Eleven

Day Eleven

Brandy sidles up to me in the goat and chicken enclosure. It's our first time here. Gideon is naming all the chickens for us, and the goats, but she's going really fast and I can't catch them all. Holly is sitting in a corner on the ground, a chicken in her lap, rubbing its downy back.

"Hey," Brandy whispers. "What's up with her? With you guys. Did something happen yesterday? You've all been acting really weird. You disappeared and then you were all so quiet."

Gideon's eyes flit to me as she talks about how much feed to put in the buckets.

"No," I say evenly. "Nothing's up. Bad phone calls, I guess."

"You're lying," she says. "I can tell. You're sticking to that girl like glue. Why?"

"Just being nice, is all. She's sad. Not a big deal. We're supposed to watch out for each other, remember?"

"Right," Brandy says. But I can tell by her voice she doesn't believe me.

Gideon sighs, shaking an empty bucket. "Hold on," she says to us.

She goes to a door at the back of the coop and raps on it. Raps again.

"We need more," she says. "Come on. "

Charlotte comes out with a big bag in her arms, staggering a little under its weight.

"Right here," she says. "Don't have a cow."

She giggles. Something's weird about her face, somehow.

Gideon yanks the bag from Charlotte's arms. Released from the weight, Charlotte falters backward.

"Cool it," she tells Gideon, her voice sharp. "Just chill."

Gideon stares at her in a hard way.

"No," she says. " You chill."

Beside me, Brandy sighs. "What is up with everyone today?"

I walk away from her, into a nest of goats, petting as many soft heads as I can.

Tracy walks up to the gate, two cups of coffee in her hand.

"Ready?" she calls to me. "It's time."

"It's time," Charlotte singsongs. "It's time for emotional vomiting!"

I ignore her, opening the gate.

Tracy hands me one of the coffees. "Lots of creamer, just the way you like it."

"Two peas in a pod," Charlotte mutters under her breath as I walk away with Tracy.

—

We don't sit on the boulder this time. She walks us farther, to a cluster of mesquite trees. There's a cement bench beneath one. We sit down.

"Your mother called me," she says. "And your father."

"Great," I say, taking a big swig of coffee, hoping it burns my mouth. It doesn't. "Am I in trouble now?"

"No," she says. "She said you don't want them to come for parents day."

"I don't. but I'm guessing you're going to make me. Whatever."

"Actually, I'm not."

"What?" I turn to her.

She's gazing at a hummingbird twitching by a feeder.

"If you don't want them here, they don't come here. This place is for you, not them. I'm glad you spoke up. I'll bet it hurt, whatever you said to your mother, but that means it needed to be said."

I'm kind of stunned. I don't know what to say.

"If you change your mind, that's fine, too. And if you stick with it, I stand with you."

"Okay," I say slowly. "Thank you."

"It takes a lot of courage to tell people what we need, even when we know it might hurt their feelings."

I look over at the goat pen in the distance. Gideon is leading Holly around gently, helping her toss feed.

I hesitate. I should tell Tracy about Holly. I should tell her. Holly could really hurt herself.

Gideon glances in our direction. Ever so slightly, she shakes her head.

I look down at the coffee cup in my hand.

I can't tell. Holly doesn't want to go to Seg. That might be even worse for her. And didn't Phil say we have to help our friends? Gideon and I can take care of Holly. Ride or die, Brandy told me.

"Is there something on your mind, Bella?" Tracy asks.

"No," I say quickly. "What are we going to talk about today? Should we get started?"

"This is it," Tracy says. "We're done. Standing up to your parents was enough for a little bit, don't you think? We can just sit here and enjoy the morning. Oh, and I have this foryou."

She takes a slip of paper from her jacket pocket and hands it to me. I unfold it.

In quotation marks, it says "Hi, I just wanted to tell you I was thinking of you. We don't really know each other that well, but I've been places, too, and I just wanted you to know that.—Dawn."

I blink at the paper. "What—"

"A friend of yours?" Tracy says. "They aren't on the call list, so we couldn't put you on. But we took the message. Is this a good thing? Or someone we should be aware of?"

I barely know her and she was nice enough to actually call me. Nicer than anyone else, even. My eyes get wet.

"Yes," I say. "It's cool. I know her."

I know her, and she's been places, too.