Mind over Monsters, page 8
Lena looked sideways at Ava and Tom. They were cool. Even if they were worriers on the inside, both gave off a gleam of confidence on the outside. Tom had a certain intense vibe, but his volleyball coordination shone through. Ava’s daring clothing choices and quiet self-possession made you think movie star rather than nervous wreck.
Lena straightened her shoulders and glanced around casually to see if any classmates were noticing the three of them together.
“You were amazing this morning, by the way,” said Ava.
“Huh?” Lena refocused.
“ ‘Worriers, attack’?” said Ava. “Where did that come from? And how long was it waiting to get out?”
Lena blushed so hard she felt her whole head heating up like a potato in the oven. “I have no idea,” she said. “It must have been pure adrenaline.”
“Seems like adrenaline can be both good and evil,” said Tom. “I mean, we’re all used to our fight-or-flight mechanism revving up over tests and piano recitals, when it’s not welcome, but it sure comes in handy when…”
“You’re in an actual fight?” said Lena.
“Exactly,” said Tom. “It’s not even fight or flight for me. It’s fight or flight or analyze to death. Guess which one I always pick?”
“For me it’s just plain freeze,” said Ava. “Fight and flight aren’t even available options.”
“I thought staying still was you being cool in the face of your fear,” Lena said.
Ava laughed. “No, that’s me going offline in the face of my fear.”
“Well, I want Lena beside me in any future actual fights,” said Tom.
The three of them—two cool eighth graders and one baked-potato-head—laughed at the very idea.
CHAPTER 20
When Lena, Tom, and Ava arrived in the small gym, the rest of the group was already there. The yoga mats, which they had left scattered around in their hurry this morning, were gone. And the floor, Lena noticed, had been swept clean. Her theory about the small gym being a trash receptacle would have gone out the window if the small gym had had windows.
“I’ve given our experience this morning a lot of thought,” said Sam as soon as they were assembled. “And I have three words about it. They are as follows: What the what?”
“That’s two words,” Sofie pointed out. “You used ‘what’ twice.”
Sam cracked his knuckles. Not nervously so much as menacingly.
“But you make a good point,” Sofie added.
“So, there’s no such thing as the thing we saw,” said Lena. “It’s not like there’s some little-known animal that looks like a black hole and acts like pudding and gets bigger while you watch. Do we agree on that?”
“I looked it up in the library during lunch,” said Owen.
“And?” said Catherine.
“The land animals that size all have fur. Plus heads. They have heads as well.”
“Which rules out whatever we saw,” said Sam. “That thing didn’t have a head.”
“Maybe it was so furry we couldn’t see its head?” Catherine suggested.
“It wasn’t furry at all,” said Sam. “It was more gunky if anything.”
“So if the creature we saw doesn’t exist, did we all hallucinate it?” said Tom.
“We must have,” said Ava. “Look around. There’s no sign it was ever here. It exploded all over us, but there’s nothing….” She brushed the sleeve of her buttery-yellow shirt, which wasn’t covered with gunk. It wasn’t even creased.
“Maybe we should tell Call Me Barb,” said Tom. “In case it’s something caused by the program.”
“Okay,” said Sam. “Who wants to be the one to tell her?”
No one wanted to get within ten feet of that conversation.
“She’d just say it was hormones,” said Ava. “That’s her go-to for everything.”
“The last Finding and Facing is tomorrow,” said Lena. “What if it happens again?”
“We need to be prepared,” said Tom. “Assuming we want to try it again.”
Oddly, Lena did want to try it again. Even if it caused hallucinations. Part of this was because she was curious. What was the last step in “Finding and Facing Our Fears”? And once you took that step, were you cured of fear? That seemed worth a hallucination or two. But she also just wanted to do another session. She didn’t know why, and she didn’t question it.
The others appeared to feel the same way. Even Owen was eager to finish the course, judging by his enthusiastic nodding.
“How about we do some research first,” Lena suggested. “As a precaution.”
“Precautionary research. Sounds good to me,” said Tom.
Six pairs of eyes were on Lena now, which she hadn’t been expecting. She tended to suggest plans and then hope someone else jumped in and got the ball rolling. Regina was especially good at the jumping and rolling parts.
“Just because I said ‘Worriers, attack’ once,” she said, “in some kind of fight-or-flight adrenaline frenzy, doesn’t mean I want to be in charge.”
“ ‘Worriers, attack’ was so cool,” said Catherine.
“It was,” said Sofie. “I would have followed you anywhere when you said that, Lena.”
Lena sighed. “Okay. How’s this? Tom can research the app and see if anyone has reported any…”
“Side effects?” Tom supplied.
“I can mess around with the app’s sound environment,” said Ava.
“Great,” said Lena, who had no idea what Ava meant.
“My mom is a psychiatrist,” Sam offered. “I’ll ask her about group hallucinations. She loves it when I take an interest in her work.”
“I’m going to research battle tactics,” said Sofie. “So I can help Lena strategize.”
“Strategize what?” Lena asked. “There aren’t going to be any more battles.”
“We hope,” said Owen.
* * *
Lena was exhausted when she got home. It turned out that a major fight-or-flight adrenaline rush ending in a fight with an explosive-blob hallucination could really take it out of a person. She lay down on her bed and closed her eyes. She was dozing when her phone pinged.
I neeeeed you!!! Regina had texted. Nooooooowwwwww!!!!!
If she needed something that urgently, Lena thought, maybe she shouldn’t waste her time typing those extra letters and exclamation points.
What for? she wrote back.
I need your advice on shoes was the answer.
This made no sense. Regina wore Crocs whenever she couldn’t be barefoot. Her idea of dress shoes was Crocs that matched her outfit.
Shoes for who? was therefore a natural follow-up question.
ME! I’m invited to a party next weekend and I have no shoes to wear.
Why can’t you wear Crocs? You wore Crocs to your aunt’s wedding. You were the flower girl.
And I wore flowered Crocs. This is different. Can you come over and shop?
Lena was groggy after her too-short nap and grumpy at having been awakened. Also, she didn’t know anything about shoes to wear to a party.
Then another text came. It’s a boy-girl party!!! it said, with a terrified-face emoji.
Lena put her phone down. Regina was going to a boy-girl party that required special shoes. Neither of them had been to a boy-girl party since way back when that meant the whole class and bouncy castles. Regina had been invited to the first real boy-girl party of middle school. And Lena hadn’t.
Surely Regina’s new friend Kenny was going. Kenny had likely been going to boy-girl parties for years, wearing the perfect shoes every time. Kenny was far more qualified than Lena to advise on boy-girl party footwear. Lena was aware that her thoughts were huffy and resentful; she could hear their tone in her head. But that didn’t change how she felt.
She picked up her phone and texted, Can’t right now. Sorry.
It took a while for Regina to answer. Finally she sent a simple and definitely sarcastic Thanks a lot.
It wasn’t as if Lena and Regina never fought. They had been fighting since preschool over various things, from who got the blue sailboat at the water table to whose winter hat pom-pom was fluffier. They had even gone for periods of time without speaking, the longest being two and a half days after the Great Raspberry versus Strawberry Disagreement.
But now that they often texted instead of talking, fighting could get confusing. It was harder to know who was angrier and who needed to apologize first. Emojis only went so far.
When Lena got back upstairs after dinner, she was thinking maybe she should apologize first. It wasn’t Regina’s fault that Lena hadn’t been invited to the boy-girl party. Lena wasn’t even sure she’d want to go if she had been invited. It was probably more of a Josh-girl party, with a Jared or two thrown in for variety. Maybe a Justin if things got really wild. She twisted her friendship bracelet around her wrist for a while, clockwise and then counterclockwise. Finally she texted, Sorry. Truly. Had a long day. How can I help?
It took half an hour for Regina to respond. With Never mind. Kenni helped.
So it was Kenni with an i, was it? Of course it was. And it was probably Reggi with an i as well. Lena had been spelling both wrong in her head this whole time. She sat at her desk and tried to concentrate on homework for a while, but it was no use.
She was almost grateful for her mother’s knock-and-barge.
“Hey,” said her mom, “are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You let Spike have the bigger brownie without a peep. Did you and Gina have a fight?”
“Sort of,” Lena mumbled. “Plus, she’s Regina now. Or maybe Reggi with an i. I don’t know—it’s hard to keep up.”
“She’s changed a bit this year,” her mother observed blandly.
“More than a bit.”
“Well, you have too. You’re both changing pretty fast. And that’s kind of exciting, right?”
Lena couldn’t think of a single way in which she had changed. Except maybe she could. Hadn’t she yelled “Worriers, attack” this morning? Hadn’t she been seen walking with eighth graders this afternoon?
“I guess so.”
“It’ll work out with Gina,” said her mom, ruffling her hair in a way Lena usually resented but kind of liked at the moment. “It always does. Remember Raspberry versus Strawberry?”
Her mother was partway out the door when she snapped her fingers. “Hey, I almost forgot,” she said. “Dad has conferences tomorrow afternoon, so I’m driving to ceramics. I’ll pick you up at school, okay?”
Lena groaned inwardly and also a little outwardly. Being picked up in Mom’s minivan wasn’t compatible with her new image as a seventh grader who knew cool eighth graders. “We could take Dad’s route and not have to leave from school,” she said.
“Dad’s route” was a euphemism for “the rational route.” It involved a quick drive to the highway, ten minutes on the highway, and a quick drive to the art museum. Whenever she had to drive, Lena’s mother insisted that the highway was too busy and that traffic would be backed up at the rotary and that her way—a circuitous route that involved an actual dirt road—was faster. It was not. Lena had timed it.
“It’s best to avoid Route Six at rush hour,” her mother insisted.
“Three o’clock isn’t rush hour.” Lena honestly didn’t know why she was arguing. She would never win. She might as well ask her mom to stop at a restaurant for dinner on the way home too.
“I’ll pick you up at school,” said her mother. “Three on the dot.” She hesitated in the doorway, her Mom Radar beeping. “Where’s your rubber band?”
Lena had no idea what she was talking about for a moment. “I dunno. Must have come off at school.”
“Well, put on a fresh one and keep snapping! Snap to it! That can be your motto.”
Lena spent the rest of the evening thinking of mottoes for her mother.
CHAPTER 21
Lena couldn’t get comfortable that night. Her legs twitched and her arms itched and her mouth was dry, but she was too tired to get up for a glass of water. Her mind was the worst, though. It kept whirring from topic to topic like a confused dragonfly. Some of the night’s topics included, in no particular order:
being picked up by her mom tomorrow in a minivan with a MY CHILD IS AN HONOR STUDENT AT CRANBERRY BOG MIDDLE SCHOOL bumper sticker (it didn’t matter that it dated from Spike’s time—it was still a huge embarrassment)
the text tension with Regina and whether it qualified as an actual fight (it probably did)
the party and whether she resented not being invited to it (she shouldn’t, but she did)
the blob and whether it was a mass hallucination (and what exactly was a mass hallucination?)
whether she had peed before she got into bed (she didn’t think so)
With all this playing on repeat most of the night, it was no surprise she woke up with her finger trapped in her hair and one of those dull headaches that make you irritable all day. She had to use scissors to clear the snarl she’d made. She could only hope her mother wouldn’t notice the missing chunk of hair. How many rubber bands would she insist on then? Maybe she’d make Lena use one of those huge exercise ones for a whole-body snap.
* * *
Call Me Barb was in the small gym with the group when Lena arrived. They waited for Owen and Catherine, then Barb gathered everyone around her folding chair as if this were kindergarten story time. Today’s mug said CAFFEINE QUEEN.
“This will be the last session of ‘Finding and Facing Our Fears,’ ” Barb told them. “And I want to check in and see what you think about part two. The rest of the school is finishing up part one today, and we have to decide if we’re going to pick up part two for them as well. It’s more expensive, since we got such a deal on the first one. So!” she said. “Any feedback on your experience?”
Maybe it was the headache talking, but Lena was annoyed that Call Me Barb was getting between her and the last session. She could see Sam’s jaw muscles working, so she assumed he, at least, felt the same way. Couldn’t this have waited until they were done?
Finally, after Barb had asked a bunch of nosy questions that might as well have come from Tom’s survey, she said, “It seems as if you’ve gotten a lot out of this. Do you have any questions for me?”
At first there was silence. The kind of silence that happens in a meeting when almost everyone is hoping that if no one says anything, the person leading the meeting will end it. Then Sam asked, “Are we going to be able to do part three?” Which caught every Worrier’s attention.
Call Me Barb seemed genuinely disappointed when she said, “I’m afraid not. Part three is very expensive. The school can’t afford it.”
“So that’s it?” said Sofie. “We’re done after today?” Maybe Sofie had a headache this morning too, because she sounded as irritated as Lena felt at this news. They couldn’t stop now! They needed to keep going to the end.
“I’m afraid so,” said Barb. “Of course, if your parents want to buy the last part for you as individuals, they could do that.”
This was a relief. Lena could ask her parents to pay for part 3. Beg, if necessary. They’d do that for her—they wanted her to get control of her worrying, after all. They had to buy her an expensive app if it was for her mental health.
“How much does it cost?” Lena asked.
Barb chuckled. “I don’t remember the exact amount. I can circle back to you on that.”
“Any amount is worth it,” said Sofie, and the group nodded as one.
“Wow,” said Barb. “That’s a strong endorsement! I’ll have to let Ms. Sanchez know we should definitely get the rest of the school going on part two.”
Call Me Barb tipped her coffee cup upside down over her mouth and shook it; nothing came out. But Sam had another question for her. “So, Barb,” he began casually. “Do you think there’s such a thing as mass hallucinations?”
Barb’s eyebrows rose. “Well,” she said, “I’d have to do some reading on that, but off the top of my head I’d say they are highly unlikely.”
“That’s what my mom said too,” said Sam. “She’s a psychiatrist. I’m hoping to confirm that mental health professionals agree on that.”
“It appears we do,” said Barb. “Is this for a paper you’re working on?”
“Yes, it is,” said Sam. “It is for a paper. Is it all right if I cite you in my source notes?”
“Of course,” said Barb with a fluttery smile. “Any other questions?” she asked, but she was already standing. “Okay, then. Enjoy your last session. And I’m always available for any questions or… research.”
As soon as the door closed behind Call Me Barb, Sofie rounded on Sam and said, “Cite her in your notes?”
CHAPTER 22
Before we start, I have to tell you all something,” said Ava.
“Can’t we do the session first?” said Catherine. “I really want to get to it.”
Owen nodded firmly.
“Me too,” said Sam.
“If you’re as eager as the rest of us to get started, maybe you could have spared us the Q-and-A session,” said Sofie.
“It was research!”
“It was a waste of time.”
“Whoa,” said Ava. “There’s a reason you’re so eager to get to the session.”
“And what’s that?” Tom asked.
“Remember those voices Sam and Lena said they heard under the music?” said Ava.
“It was mainly me,” said Sam. “Lena only heard it one time.”
“Whatever,” said Ava. “My dad has a bunch of sound equipment that no one can ask me about or mention again ever. Clear?”
“Clear,” said Sam on behalf of the others. He cracked a pinkie knuckle.
“And stay away from his ViewTube, or you and I will be having an uncomfortable discussion about boundaries,” Ava added.
“Okay,” Sam said again. He cracked the other pinkie knuckle and a ring finger for good measure.
