writingacrossborders-blog

[writingacrossborders-blog]

Drama in the house of Laurent

Chapter Twelve

My name is Kitty, and I am not a troublemaker. I may be a child, but I’m not a “child".

We’re back at Isaac’s house after a pivotal afternoon. I’m not actually sure what the word “pivotal” means, but I’ve heard it used more than once today, so I’m gonna use it so I’m not left out. Doesn’t really matter because I feel like the only one who doesn’t understand what is going on. No one is really telling me anything. Why do I feel like I’m just trouble right now? I get that something happened to Danny and Isaac. That happens to Danny sometimes at home. But now… now I don’t know what is happening to anything.

I can hear people talking.

It has been about an hour since we got back to the house. Mom wouldn’t tell me anything about what is going on.

“Kitty, can you please go to the guest room?” she tells me, with fake concern for me in her eyes.

“But what am I supposed to do there? Everything else is happening out here,” I tell her.

“Just go, please? Or go play with Danny and Alex?” She basically sighs that last sentence out.

She said “please” and she looks tired. I slowly head to the guest room and brush past my father. I open my mouth to ask him what is up, but I think better of it. He looks even worse that she did. I walk to the guest room to grab the iPad and head upstairs.

Danny and Alex are in Alex’s room.

I sign onto the iPad. The door is slightly open, drat, I missed the password. I push the door open and put the right password in.

“JEEZ, Kitty!"

My head jerks up and there is a rushing of movement and sound. They’re both sitting on Alex’s bed and staring at me.

“Hi?” I squeak out.

“Knock first. We’re guests in this household.”

“I’m sorry…” my voice starts shaking.

“Danny…” Alex gives him a look and then walks over to me. “It’s okay, it wasn’t closed all the way.” He pats me on the back and immediately makes everything better. But then I stiffen up. He said “Danny”. I’m the only one who’s allowed to call him that.

“I’m sorry, I over-reacted.” He walks over to join us.

“Uh-huh."

“Are you okay, Kitty Cat? I know it’s been a kinda weird afternoon."

“Well, gee. I wouldn’t know because no one tells me stuff."

They exchange looks at each other.

“And don’t go thinking I’m too young to be worried about anything." I'm not. All my teachers say I'm mature for my age and that I should take the tests to go to the next grade. And because I'm mature for my age, I know what the word "mature" means, and I know how to use it properly and that now is not the exact time I should be bringing it up, but I'm also upset. "I know things, too."

Danny gets in his I’m-uncomfortable-but-I’m-gonna-act-like-I’m-not mood and shrugs. “I think it’s something the grown-ups need to talk about. Isaac isn’t feeling very good right now. But that’s all that I know, and I don’t think it is very polite to ask for more than we need to know. It’s not really our business. Make sense?"

“Okay.” It does make sense.

“Dad just has a kidney problem. That’s all I really know,” Alex lets out.

We both look at him.

“He has a kidney problem?” Danny looks concerned and a little on edge.

“Yes, he needs a new one."

“Oh.” We’re both quiet for a second.

“He’s fine, but I think that was part of his condition or whatever."

“Is he gonna be okay?” Danny asks carefully.

“I think so. He said that your visit might be the answer."

“The answer?"

“It’s what he told me before you arrived, but I don’t know why. Are your parents doctors or something?”

“Mom is a doctor.”

“Yeah,” agrees Danny, “she’s a surgeon”.

There is a flash of hope in Alex’s eyes. “Do you think she’ll be able to help my father?"

We look at each other again. Danny turns to him and they look at each other for way too long before Danny says, “I know she’ll do whatever she can to help you.”

They look at each other a little while longer until I can tell I should probably leave the room. There are times at home when Danny is hanging out with Elle and they want me to go away, and this feels like one of those times. I leave the room and make sure the door shuts.

Heading downstairs, I can hear the grown-ups in the dining room. I go quickly to the guest room and lay on the bed. I am watching an episode of Sesame Street when Danny knocks on the open door.

“You can come in,” I say, still watching the show.

“Kitty Cat…”

“I’m sorry. I think I just did what Dad calls drama.” I know what the word means, but my parents say that I am not old enough to know what it feels like.

“Yeah. Maybe. I just don’t want…" He is still by the door but shuts it and walks over.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything. No matter how gross it was." I pause the show but keep my eyes on the screen.

He shifts uncomfortably and sits down on the bed. “Look, Kitty. No one needs to know anything."

“Anything what?"

“Okay, so when we get home, yeah? You don’t have to talk about Alex, okay?"

“Why not?” I am getting a little angry. He’s my friend, too.

“Because, he doesn’t really matter, okay?"

“Yes, he does. You like him."

“Yeah, okay. I maybe do. But that’s not the point. This? All of this?” He reaches his arms out and points in the direction of the room. “You have to forget about it."

“I have a really good memory.” I do. I have a really good memory.

“Yes, but you don’t need to talk about it ever again. For the rest of our lives."

“Why? It has been a cool, pivotal trip."

“What? Never mind. My point, Kitty, is that you can’t tell anyone what happened here, okay?"

“Why?"

“Dammit, Kitty!"

I jump up. “You’re not supposed to say that word!"

“I’ll say it if I damn well want to. See if I give a fuck."

“DANNY!” I start to walk around the bed. We aren't supposed to say bad words, and that's a really bad word.

“Kitty!” He follows me.

“Shh. We’re not supposed to interrupt the grown-ups.” I put my finger to my lips. He just shrugs but lowers his voice.

“I’m just saying don’t talk about… you know."

“You don’t want me to tell you were kissing Alex.” I jump to sit back down on the bed. I cross my arms and give him an eye roll. He flinches a bit, but I don’t really care. Maybe I didn’t see it, but I know that’s what they were doing.

He sits next to me. “Look, Kitty. Maybe you don’t understand this right now, and that is fine, and I am almost positive that you don’t get this, so don’t at me. But you cannot talk about this. It’s private. You remember what private means?"

I roll my eyes again but nod.

“Okay, so that is private between us, Alex and me, and now it’s private between you and me. But you can’t tell anyone.” He is talking, and I want to be mean to him because he’s not being very nice, but he’s talking with his eyes down. Dan only talks like that if he is really upset.

“I’m sorry, Danny.” And I really am. I’m mad, but that doesn’t mean I should be mean. In fact, my anger is slowly going away by the "being sorry" that I’m feeling. He looks like I’ve never seen him before. Ya know that person in Greek who was punished to carry the world on his shoulders for all time? Dan might not be carrying the world, but he sure does look tired.

“I know you are, and I am, too. I don’t know what’s going on right now with our families, but if we needed to know, they’ll tell us.”

He’s also really bad at lying, but I let that one go. “I just don’t want to be the ‘troublemaker’, but everyone keeps acting like I am.”

He lets out a hollow laugh, the one that Mom does whenever Dad makes a bad joke in public. “You’re not a troublemaker, they’re just grown-ups.”

“But what about Elle?” I ask the pointed question that I think is so obvious during this entire day. Why is he kissing Alex if he is also kissing Elle? Why does anyone kiss anyone? Okay, that one; I know that I don't get. Kissing mouths is gross, but Mom and Dad say that older people do it if they love each other.

He makes a face and shrugs, “there’s nothing really to talk about.”

“But you like her, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“Are you two kissing?”

“Kitty…” he gets up and then sits back down again. “Look, you don’t really get dating and stuff.” He’s right, I have no clue what he’s talking about. “Dating is what you do when you like someone a lot, kind of like what Mom and Dad did before they got married.”

“Okay…”

“And,” he continues, “it’s a relationship that is special. It’s like being friends, but then you are more than friends. You like this person more than a friend.”

“Do you love them?”

“Yeah, I guess sometimes you really do love them.”

“Do you love Elle?” I’m full of the questions.

He thinks and then sighs a bit. “I don’t think I’m the right age to really love someone.”

“So, no.”

“I don’t know, okay?” He flops backward onto the bed and covers his head. Who knew it was so hard to be him? “I’m sorry, I just don’t know.”

"But if you're kissing her, doesn't that mean you love her?"

He sighs again. "No, Kitty. Just because two people kiss doesn't mean they love each other."

I must look very confused because he looks at me and laughs, "I'm sorry. There isn't one easy explanation to that. It's just life. You can like someone before you love them. Like is like the step to love. It's like, you like someone, and then you love someone. Like, Mom and Dad used to like each other, and then they started dating, and then somewhere in there, they started to love each other." He looks at me, and I'm kinda confused. I think it makes sense. Two people like each other and then they love each other. I just nod. He continues, "look, I guess things happen... Elle..."

“It’s okay if you don’t like her. I don’t like her.” I cut in.

He smiles at that. “Of course you don’t, Kitty. But she’s cute and funny, and- “

“And she’s a popular girl, and she's a cool cheerleader, and she's in your AP Chem class, and blah blah blah.”

“How do you know so much?”

“Because,” I expel, “she tells me this almost every time she’s over at our house, and you talk about it a lot. I mean, she's really smart, I get that, but I don't think she likes me much." She doesn't.

He’s quiet for a bit. “Well, what do Mom and Dad think of her?”

“I don’t know. How should I know? I’m six. Do you think they tell me anything?”

“I guess not.” His eyes are still closed. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t realize you didn’t like her that much.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not the one who likes her, who is dating her.”

He flops over. “We’re not dating.”

“But you just said…”

“We’re not. Okay?” His eyes bore into me, and I am just so confused.

“Okay.” Gee, teenager life is so weird. “Do you not like her anymore?”

“Of course I like her.”

“But you just said…”

“It’s complicated.” He raises his voice.

“Why?” I demand. I know what “complicated” means, but it doesn’t seem complicated to me.

“It just is.”

“If you like her, then why aren’t you dating.”

He sighs. “It is not as easy as that, and since you are not me, you don’t get it. I promise you, you will most likely understand it when you’re older, and then you can complain to me all the time.”

“Okay,” I say. But do I really get it?

“Cool. You’re a cool sister, sometimes.” He sits back up and grins.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” I say back. “But I do have a question.”

“What?” He braces for impact.

“Do you like Alex?”

He groans and heads toward the bathroom. “You’ll get it when you’re my age. Probably.” He shuts the door behind him. I flop back on the bed and go back to the iPad. I can tell our parents are still talking with Isaac, so there’s nothing else to do. There is a knock at the door.

“Hey, Kitty.” Alex is in the doorway.

“Hi. He’s just in the bathroom.”

“Cool, mind if I come in?”

I nod and he walks in.

“So, I got the new Smash Brothers game. You want to check it out?

“Yeah!” I jump up. I love video games. Especially because Danny doesn’t let me play with him all the time, and our parents give him more video game time. “Definitely.”

“Who is your main?”

“I don’t have one. But I like Luigi because he says funny stuff.”

Danny walks out of the bathroom. “Hey, man.”

“We’re going to play some Smash, you in?”

“Absolutely!” We all walk out of the guest room and climb the stairs up to Alex’s room. Alex starts his television up, and Danny helps him get the controllers. He hands one to me and one to Alex. They’re smiling at each other, and I can’t help but smile with them. We all sit down on Alex’s game as the game turns on. He has a bag of sour candies that we are passing around. It feels nice to be included in this, even though it feels like I’m always missing something.

I don’t get Danny sometimes, but he’s older. I am now terrified of being in high school. If this is what drama feels like, I can wait.

-Anna-

[writingacrossborders-blog]

Ketchup

Chapter Eleven

Remember when I was saying that being a teenage boy that crushes on everyone is the worst thing in the world? I would like to retract that statement. I think I may have been exaggerating a bit. As I struggle to catch my breath and my chest feels like it's collapsing in on me, I make a mental note to sort out my priorities. Alex's face is really near mine and I watch him yell across the room to my parents almost in slow motion. When you are struggling to bring oxygen into your body, everything feels like it's moving slowly. Dad comes over and pulls me against him. I am not even embarrassed to be held by him in that moment or by my mom's hand cradling my chin. Her warm hands mixed with my dad's calming words help me to focus on one thing and my panic starts to subside. I take the inhaler from my mom and continue to take steady breaths.

"Danny!" Kitty runs over and hugs me a little too hard. I see dad start to intervene out of the corner of my eye and I put my hand out to show him that I am okay. I wrap my arms gingerly around Kitty and she loosens her grip a bit and settles into my lap.

"Sorry for the scare, everyone. I might have pushed myself a bit too hard." Dad's disappointment in how I had been treating Elle had made guilt a primary emotion and it had made me jump harder and faster than I knew was good for me. Even when I had felt the cough tickle the bottom of my throat, I had kept going. This was all on me.

I glance at Alex to make sure that he is alright. My family has all seen my asthma attacks (not that it makes it easier for them), but I know it can be really scary to see one for the first time. He seems a bit flustered, but otherwise chilled out, leaning against his dad. "On the plus side, your voice is extra raspy and sexy now", he says nonchalantly.

My body tenses up and I cough really hard. Kitty squeezes me harder and I bring the inhaler back to my mouth. Did he just say that my voice sounds extra sexy? In front of my parents? I am NOT ready for them to know that I am into guys. My parents are not at all aware of what just happened, though. They laughed lightheartedly at the comment while helping me to my feet, quite a difficult feat when you have a child velcroed to you. Kitty refuses to let go of me and I have to shift while getting up to make sure that I am supporting her weight.

"I am okay kitty-cat I promise. How about I watch you jump around for a bit and I can score you like they do on the Olympics?" Her tears stop flowing almost immediately and she looks up at me with her giant brown eyes.

"Really?"

"For sure, first task is the highest jump."

"But I don't have anybody to compete against." Before I even have a second to consider this predicament, Alex hops over and pats Kitty on the head.

"Are you saying that I am not competition?" My parents and I look at him gratefully and he shrugs his shoulders. He's so chilled out all of the time. I am easily a couple of years older than him and he has his so much more control over his life. I am jealous- not in a vicious way. Just in the way where I am realising I need to spend more time working on myself.

"Are you sure you are alright?" Dad comes over and asks, his hand gripping my shoulder tightly. It is nice to see that he is genuinely concerned about me. I know we don't see eye-to-eye on most things, but every once in awhile I get this really strong wave of emotions that make me really glad he's my dad. I should probably tell him when I get them, but it's just a bit weird. I hope he knows that I look up to him, maybe not in regards to career, but definitely as a father.

"I am fine dad, thanks." He goes back to the table where him, mom, and Isaac are drinking their espresso and they huddle close immediately falling back into a hushed discussion that they seem to have been having since we got here. I can't tell if it's something important or if it's just normal gossip and catching up.

"Danny, we are warmed up and ready for competition!" I turn to see Kitty jumping on a trampoline right next to Alex. Alex's dark hair is falling across his eyes and I re-watch his lips saying 'sexy' in my mind.

"Go on then." I smile and they both start to jump, Kitty giggling as they get higher and higher. She's actually doing really well- I don't know if Alex is letting her win or she is just really brilliant and jumping, but she's currently about 6 inches higher and she knows it.

"I'm winning! I'm winning!" she chants.

"10 out of 10 Kitty cat!" She whoops and slows down her jumping and reaches over to give Alex a hand shake.

"Good game" she mumbles and I struggle not to crack up. She used to come to all of my sports games before I realised that I really did not have the coordination or muscles required for any of them. The mumbled good sportmanship is all part of the competition.

"You know, I never got my rating." Alex says, coming to sit next to me. Kitty is bouncing anxiously nearby, obviously ready for the next task, but I can't resist.

"6 out of 10," I say matter of factly. "Kitty crushed you I am afraid". He leans back on his arms like I am doing, his thumb barely brushing my hand behind our backs and I feel my heart pounding in my ears.

"I hope that 6 out of 10 is just for my jumping and not your overall rating of me." A warm blush is spreading across from me and I am wildly aware that I am probably bright red. I have never flirted outright with a guy before and it's a little exhilarating. Plus Kitty doesn't know what's going on.

"Are you two gonna kiss or something?" I look over at her and her little eyebrow is cocked at me. I spoke too soon, she definitely knows what's going on.

"Of course not Kitty, Alex is just a family friend and he's a boy." I feel Alex's hand shift away from mine and I feel awful. Why did I say that? He isn't going to know what to believe from me anymore. I want to pull him aside and tell him that what I really want more than anything in the world is to kiss him, but it's probably too late for that now.

"Who cares if he's a boy?" Kitty sits in front of us cross-legged. "Alex plays video games with you, he's really nice, he makes you want to draw, and he doesn't treat me like a baby like that Elle girl does. I would much rather kiss him than her with her sticky lip gloss lips." I feel like I am going to throw up. This isn't going to go away. Kitty is genuinely curious and nothing will distract her when she has her mind set on something. Alex is looking at me with the same questioning look as well. I certainly have a lot to answer to.

"I don't care that he is a boy, Kitty, but a lot of people do care and think that two boys shouldn't be together."

"A lot of people think that Ketchup is gross, but that doesn't stop me from putting it on most things!"

"It's different Kitty cat." She frowns at me confused.

"How is it different, Dan?" Alex asks. I turn to look at him, really look at him and I am truly at a loss at what to say. Kitty puts Ketchup on everything and even when people fake-gag or make a stink about it, she doesn't even blink. Ketchup makes her happy and it's her food, they don't have to eat it, so why does it matter that she does it?

"Because you're more important than a condiment." I finally choke out. His eyes get big and I finally see him lose a little bit of his cool.

"So are you gonna kiss?" Kitty asks and I shrug.

"Maybe." Alex beams at this answer and I blush again.

"Gross." She grimaces and I laugh at her gnarled expression. Kissing between anyone other than mom and dad is icky regardless of age, sex, etc. at her age.

"Dad? DAD?"  Alex's scream scares me. I turn quickly and see Isaac slump in his seat. My heart plummets- what is going on? I jump up, pick up Kitty, and skid across the surface of the trampolines towards our parents. Alex is in full panic mode. "Call an ambulance! Appeler une ambulance! He is sick."

"What do you mean he is sick?" I stumble over my words. Alex just starts to cry. My phone lights up on the table with a heart emoji from Elle. I am never going to a trampoline park again.

Chapter by: Abigail

[writingacrossborders-blog]

“Jumping” to conclusions is not really my thing

Chapter Ten

“Dad, look at me, look at me! I’m higher than Danny!!”

“I see you, Kitty, but be careful!” I shake my head ruefully and mutter to Amara, “I hope she remembers her lesson from last time and we don’t wind up at the hospital again.”

Isaac laughs. “Alex broke his foot here two years ago during a friend’s birthday party. He definitely remembers his lesson and I’m sure he will keep Kitty under control.”

We sit at a table drinking pop while watching the kids exhaust themselves on the trampolines. After touring Chocolaterie Menier and walking around the Vaires-sur-Marne lake, everyone was feeling pretty cold and tired. I thought we would head back to Isaac’s to rest, but then Isaac suggested the kids might enjoy Jump City. Kitty immediately regained all her energy and pleaded with us to go. So, here we are taking a breather while the kids continue to expend their seemingly endless amounts of energy.

“Are you doing okay, Isaac?” Amara asks, concern creasing her brow. We both remember how swollen his ankles looked last night, and I am sure we both wonder if the lake walk pushed him too far.

“I am okay for now. And even if I pushed a bit too far, it is okay. I have not been able to take Alex out much these last few months and I appreciate the chance to make today more like old times.” Isaac sighs. “Being a stay-at-home dad is tough, especially when you get sick. There is no one to fall back on when you are the main caregiver, you know?” He gives me a look out of the corner of his eye, and I feel a warm feeling of kinship squeeze my chest.

Ever since I became a stay-at-home dad, I had trouble spending time with my male friends. While they were all talking about a-hole bosses or the best way to invest retirement stocks, I could only talk about a-hole Mandy in grade 2 who stole Kitty’s crayons or debate whether providing students physical textbooks or MacBooks made for a better investment in high schools. Learning Isaac was also a stay-at-home dad and bantering with him today about the trials and tribulations of being such had proven to be a more fulfilling talk than I had experienced in a good long while.

Dan’s phone starts vibrating, and I grab it before it vibrates itself off the table’s edge. I notice his screen displays multiple messages from someone named Elle, with the most recent reading:

Dan, u okay? You haven’t texted all day. 😢

“Dan, come over here for a moment!” At my yell, Dan stops himself from the flip he was about to do and heads over to our table.

“Yeah?”

“You have some texts you should probably answer. Seems like you made someone worried with your lack of responses today.” I raise an eyebrow at him, and he looks embarrassed.

“Don’t read my phone, Dad. That’s rude.”

“Don’t make others worried by neglecting to reply when you have the ability.” He lowers his eyes and quickly types a reply before turning his phone to silent and heading back to where Alex and Kitty are jumping. I turn to Isaac.

“If I was a mom, do you think he would have told me who this ‘Elle’ is by now?”

“Hell, I know he probably would. I didn’t find out about Raleigh until Jeanne told me what Alex said.”

“Raleigh?”

“When Alex was in seventh grade, his first real crush was on an eighth grader. He told his mom all about how he was going to ask Raleigh to the dance, but never spoke a word about it to me, even though I was home all day and he only saw his mom on weekends!”

I laugh and turn to Amara. “You don’t by chance know anything about Dan’s friend, do you?” Amara smiles slightly in an impish way.

“What is spoken of between me and Dan is our convo, not yours.”

“Oh jeez, honey! That’s a yes, then.” I lean back in my chair and sip my pop while Amara asks Isaac what exactly Jeanne is up to these days. My thoughts wander, and I think about the real reason we came to Paris for this family vacation.

I never needed surgery before, not even for wisdom teeth. The most time I spent in the hospital took place after I became a parent, when Dan was diagnosed with asthma and Kitty sprained her arm at a Sky Zone back in the States. If I agreed to be tested, and if Isaac and I really were a match, would I be able to go through with the surgery?

I am not an organ donor. Even though everyone talks about organ donation as being the last altruistic act one can accomplish in one’s lifetime, I do not see what is so altruistic about saving the life of someone who destroyed their liver through alcoholism and will just tear through your liver as well. I know the publicized statistics that only like 5 percent of those receiving organ transplants damaged their organs through drug or substance abuse. But I also know that publicized statistics generally overlook those who have a crap ton of money to skip the line and receive their desired transplant.

That is my main objection to organ donation—I do not want my organs given to someone I feel is undeserving. But in this case, I am alive and can determine for myself if the recipient is worthy of receiving my help. And despite the falling out I experienced with Isaac when he expressed his love to Amara all those years ago, I know he is a good guy. And after spending today talking with him about our shared struggles of stay-at-home parenthood, I am beginning to rediscover the friendship we had during those decades-old double dates.

“Dad! Dad! Jason! Amara! Help!! It’s, it’s Dan!!” All of our heads immediately whip to face Alex, who is kneeling beside Dan on the trampoline. Kitty is crying while a staff member holds her, and other staff members are working to clear all other kids from the area. I immediately know what must have happened.

“Amara, get Dan’s inhaler from my bag!” I kick off my shoes and run as fast as I safely can across the trampoline. I kneel next to Alex and scoop my hands under Dan’s shoulders, lifting Dan into a sitting position against my chest. I can tell Dan is panicking and I work to calm him.

“It’s okay, Dan, you’re going to be okay. Try to breathe slowly.” I turn to Alex. “Ask the staff members for something hot to drink. That can help relax the airways.” I can tell Alex is also scared but goes to do what I say. Amara appears next to me with the inhaler and puts it to Dan’s mouth, helping him to take a puff.

“It’s going to be okay, Dan, it’s going to be okay.”

Chapter by: Lisa

[writingacrossborders-blog]

France is cool

Chapter Nine I am laying in Isaac's guest room in the window. My parents are sleeping very loudly which is amazing since they hardly made noises all of the evening. That is why I am wide awake. Because they decided to go to bed really early, and I am here.

I sit up and grab my iPad. My parents said they would trust me with an iPad because I brushed my teeth or something. I think they were trying to just make me feel less bad because they got Dan a cell phone. I don't need a cell phone. But they got me an iPad.

I tap the ProCreate icon. I don't know what normal people do on iPads, Danny sure takes up a lot of time texting on his phone, but I draw. They got me the pencil for my birthday so I could draw on the iPad. I don't know how it works, but I don't really care.

The app is very beautiful, and I cue up some music and continue on a drawing I started on the plane. I was drawing a plane. It was easy. Something that is not easy is faces. My mind goes back to earlier in the evening. Danny's drawing was GOOD. I don't understand why he is acting so weird. Yes, the afternoon was really weird with our parents meeting up with friends, and then we were hanging out with Alex, but he never wants to draw with me, and then he does, and then it's really good, but then he doesn't want to talk about it, but no one really wants to talk about anything, and dinner was really weird, but it was really good, Isaac made us galettes, and then we had some kind of cake or something. I stop drawing the plane. I bring up a blank sheet and start to draw the meal. I'm not really good at drawing from memory yet, but Ms. Lynn says that I will be when I get older. She thinks that I could do this. She said college. My parents told me that I had a lot of time to think about it, but I'm already five years old; I need to start thinking about my future.

I look at what I’m drawing. It looks bad. The meal was good. The drawing was bad. I trash it and start over. Alex is really cool. He appreciates my drawings. Danny, well… he never says anything bad but also not good. And if you don’t have anything nice to say, you don’t say anything at all.

I start a new one. By now, I’m just doodling. Scribbling, really. My mind is wandering. I’m kinda bored. My parents are snoring, and I’m here, and Danny and Alex are probably having fun right now. I heard Alex say that he has some new game. Danny likes video games. I’m not good at video games. All the kids at school are playing Fortnite. My best friend Arnav can do all of the dances. I can’t do all of the dances, but he says he can’t draw, so we’re even. I don’t think that Danny and Alex are playing Fortnite, though. It’s not cool enough for them. And Alex seems SO cool. Danny seems to think he’s cool, too. He’s really good at making friends. Or at least he seems like it. That’s what I love about my brother. He’s just a really kind person, and Dad says that that’s good in people.

I look up at the clock on the wall. HOLY COW, it’s already 10:00. Mom and Dad said we need to be up in time for breakfast tomorrow. I carefully put the iPad in my bag and settle in for the night. It’s not hard for me to fall asleep all the time, but I feel weird sometimes at other peoples’ houses. Isaac has a lot of blankets, so I’m not cold, but I don’t like it in here. I can’t wait until the morning.

-Anna-

[writingacrossborders-blog]

Hormones Are the Actual Devil

Chapter Eight

I think that this trip might actually kill me. Is that dramatic or what? It's like I am in a case study about teen stereotypes and hormonal imbalances I swear to god. I haven't messaged Elle back since the museum incident and I feel like a complete dick about it, but I think that I needed a day or so to just clear my brain . Ever since Mr. Beret was spotted, every nerve in my body seems to continually be chanting "you are bi, you are bi, YOU ARE REALLY FREAKING BI" and I want nothing more than to shut it up. If teenage life and emotions weren't confusing enough as is, imagine being attracted to pretty much everyone you lay eyes on that are your age. Yeah, it DOES suck, thank you for understanding.

So, I am sure that you can imagine my non-surprise when we turn up at mom's friend, Isaac's, house and I am immediately drawn to his son Alex. He is probably a year or two younger than me and you can just tell by looking at him that he is really nerdy and pretentious, but honestly it totally works for him. With a flick of his dad's hand, he is tasked with keeping Kitty and me occupied upstairs while all the adults catch up in the living room and I am trying really hard to focus on acting like a normal human and not on Alex's tight black skinny jeans, but it's not working very well.

We reach the top of the landing and I glance around, smirking at the sign on the door at the opposite end that reads "Alexandre's Room: KEEP OUT". I have the exact same one at home.

"Your room?" I point to the door.

"What gave it away?" He chuckles in response. Kitty clamors ahead and before I can stop her, she opens it up and walks inside. My whole body wants to shrivel up in horror. She's always been bad about following the "knocking rule" at home, but I didn't think that she would be so disrespectful in someone else's house.

"Kitty! You can't just enter people's rooms as you please!" I shout at her, probably too aggressively.

"Don't worry about it, honestly." Alex shrugs and I feel my face get warm. He pushes the door all the way open and gestures for me to come in as well. Kitty is sitting at the end of his bed and looking up at the constellation stickers he has stuck to his ceiling.

"Your room is so cool!" She squeals. "Also it's really clean. Danny's bedroom at home is really messy and stinks like cheese." Never have I wanted to strangle her more.

Alex raises his eyebrows at me before laughing. "Cheese, huh?"

"It does not smell like cheese. I think the smell that my rat of a sister is referring to is that of workout clothes and maybe a bag or two of stale Funyuns." Kitty's mouth is hanging open like a giant gaping hole, something I am sure that she picked up from a movie or music video.

"Danny, I am not a rat. Take it back you meany."

"I heard that rats are really clever and they definitely would know what cheese smells like." Alex tells her. Her pout turns into a devious little smile and I watch the two of them high-five about my cheese room. Despite the fact that they are ganging up on me, I can't help but grin myself.

"Not fair!" I say, but soon we are all caught up laughing together and it feels so good to just let go for a second and laugh until it actually starts to hurt my stomach. As we wind down, I watch Alex carefully as he gathers up some paper for Kitty to draw on and feel shocked as he offers some to me. "Oh, it's alright, I don't really draw."

Kitty rolls her eyes, "What he means is he thinks drawing is dumb and for kids." Wow, she really is out to paint me like the bad guy to Alex.

"On second thought, I will give it a go." He smiles as I slip a couple of pieces of paper and a pen from his outstretched hands while Kitty gives me a suspicious look. Honestly, it's fair enough for her to be skeptical since I turn her down every time she asks me to draw with her four times a week. Everything inside of me is telling me that I am making a mistake as I lower my pen to the paper. Art is not a career or even a productive hobby, I think to myself as lines start to flow onto the page. How many years did I have to watch my dad's ambitions and hopes become unattainable and crippling until I came to this conclusion? Far too many, probably. I run lights for the drama club at school, but that's about as far as I let my creativity take me. That being said, the comfort and peace I feel as we all sketch for the next half hour takes me aback. While it might have been the need to impress a guy that persuaded me to pick up the paper in the first place, my mind goes blank soon after and my body takes over the drawing, letting me relax for the first time in months. Suddenly, I hear a cough and I look up to see Alex and Kitty watching me draw so intensely, that my heart stops and the drawing soon after.

"Dude..." Alex looks awestruck and Kitty's eyebrows are knitted so tightly that I think her head is going to explode.

I look down at my paper, nervous at what I am going to see that would merit such reactions and feel everything inside of me grind to a halt- in fact, I am 90% sure that I am not even breathing. There are so many lines and so many patches of darkness that I can't tell what it is at first until I look at the light between it all. In the middle, in the light bits, is undeniably a portrait of my face.

"Don't really draw, my butt." Alex says to Kitty in an imitation of my voice and she smiles covering her mouth with her hands, no doubt giggling at the fact that he said "butt" and not the fact that I can actually draw despite years of staying away from creative projects on purpose.

Waves of fear and interest ride through me as I keep looking at the picture. Did I really draw this? The door to Alex's bedroom flies open and I look up to see my dad peering in. Before even noticing that I am doing it, I move my drawing out of sight and look up at him.

"Really dad? This family needs to seriously work on knocking before just bursting into a room." He nods once and then announces it's time for dinner downstairs. I am surprised he doesn't berate me for my tone, but he looks really distracted and lost in thought. We all get up and start to file into the hallway.

"Dan, can I talk to you for a second?" Dad pulls me to the side and I agree hesitantly. "We will probably be staying here for awhile and since there is only one guest bedroom, I was wondering if you would feel comfortable staying in Alexandre's bedroom while we are here?" I am not even sure that I nod before he says, "Good, good, I knew you would be easy going about it."

He squeezes my arm and heads down the stairs and then I am stuck ruminating about the fact that I just agreed to share a room with the guy whose body I was just checking out an hour before. Dear god, did I mention that I hate hormones? What the hell am I supposed to do?

Chapter by: Abigail

[writingacrossborders-blog]

This is definitely a strange... “affair”

Chapter Seven

Amara assured me everything would be explained once we arrived at Isaac’s. For Dan and Kitty’s sake, I agreed to be patient.

But damn does the train to Torcy feel excruciatingly slow when you’re going to see the man who loved your wife the same as you.

“This is our stop! This is our stop!” Kitty exclaims, bouncing up and down in her seat in excitement.

“It sure is, Kitty. Make sure to hold Dan’s hand so you do not get lost.” I look at Dan to make sure he heard, and he nods absentmindedly while looking out the window. Dan has been a bit distracted ever since the zoo, and especially after the museum—I wonder what got into him?

I look over to Amara. She has already gathered our bags and is tensed in apprehension. She looks briefly at me and smiles with her eyes, but then returns to looking at the train doors, waiting to pounce the moment they open.

The next few minutes are a whirl as the train stops and everyone pours out. Isaac’s house is less than a 10-minute walk from the station, and I am so busy keeping track of our luggage and the kids that I don’t have time to think until we are literally standing right in front of his door.

Cold sweat beads on my forehead as Amara rings the doorbell. I notice briefly how the plain beige of the building makes it indistinguishable from the look-alike houses flanking either side. The door opens.

“Amara, Jason, it’s been a long time.” I try not to stare as Isaac extends his hand in greeting.

His once jet-black hair is now peppered with gray and there are wrinkles etched deeply where none used to be. But what I notice most is the difficulty with which he walks. As we enter the home and Dan and Kitty head upstairs with Isaac’s son, I realize how swollen Isaac’s ankles are when he sits down on the living room sofa.

“So, Isaac, how have you been?” I lean forward and clasp my hands together, resting my elbows on my knees.

Isaac laughs. “Always a reporter, Jason. I felt you gearing up for an interrogation before you even walked in the door. But I expected as much.” Isaac sighs. Amara rests a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m not doing well. I’m sure you can see.” He gestures toward his swollen ankles and I feel heat rise in my face. I guess I had not been as subtle as I believed.

“What is the matter?”

“His kidney is failing,” Amara cuts in. Her hand squeezes my shoulder.

“Did you know about this before planning the trip to Paris?” I ask. I shift to face her and pull her hand into mine.

“I did. That is why I planned to come out here.”

“Not just you, though. All of us. Why did you bring all of us here?”

“Because you just might be a match, Jason.” I whirl to face Isaac. The look in his eyes stops me short. I have seen eyes like his countless times when covering stories on the welfare system in America. Everyone I interviewed on Medicaid gave me those same eyes.

“I called Amara for advice when I was diagnosed. France generally has shorter wait times than America for kidney transplants, but that’s due to France accepting kidneys from donors who are much older, meaning they are lower quality and higher risk. Because I have dual U.S. citizenship, I thought there might be a better option in America than here. Amara talked with me about how it could be quicker if I had someone to be a living donor for me, but neither my son nor my cousins match.”

I felt Amara’s fingers again move nervously in mine.

“That’s when Amara noted that we have the same blood type, Jason. She suggested I talk to you about the possibility, but it didn’t feel right to me to do something like this over the phone. Since she was already planning a winter trip for you all anyway, she decided to make it Paris so I could ask you this in person.”

I sit back, dumbfounded. Out of all the possible scenarios that ran through my head, this definitely never made the top 10 list—hell, it did not make any list.

“I brought some of my medical supplies to run a few basic tests and see if it would even be worth Isaac flying to America for more extensive testing between you two,” Amara says. “Of course, I don’t mean to expect this of you in any way. I never would, and neither would Isaac. But I thought it would be better to be prepared than not, depending on your answer.”

Isaac gives me a rueful smile. “I know this is likely the strangest request you’ve ever gotten. Especially coming from me.” He leans closer. “And I know how much you hated me when I confessed to Amara almost two decades ago. I hated myself, too, in a way, since you were a nice guy to hang out with whenever we did double dates.” He straightens up. “But I hope I can convince you that is firmly in the past. I respect Amara greatly, but my heart is solidly in another person’s hands.” Isaac turns to look at a photo and I follow his gaze.

The picture is of Isaac and his son at the Tour de France, cheering on the cyclists. Half the photo is blocked, however, by a smiling woman with oversized sunglasses.

Amara squeezes my hand. “I know it is late and you may want to just shower and sleep. Want to talk about this later? Isaac got us a tour of the Chocolaterie Menier right down the road, so we can focus on that tomorrow if you want time to think.”

Time to think sounds best. But there is one thing I want to say.

“Between this strange affair and a sexual one, I prefer the former greatly.”

Chapter by: Lisa

[writingacrossborders-blog]

When in Paris/We get lost in Ancient Egypt

Chapter Six

I don’t think that Danny is very happy here. Which is kinda weird because I know that if he were happy, he would love it.

I don’t know why he is so weird right now. But I guess I got kinda weird. I was worried that our parents were fighting. They sometimes do this thing that they don’t want people to see they’re unhappy but they are. They seem to have gotten over whatever they were doing. I don’t think that it is any of my business what my parents are upset about, but even though I’m not that old, I think I have a right to know a little about family stuff. But I doubt that Danny does, either. He seemed just as weird as I did.

I got my first crepe of the trip. I’m definitely really into this Paris food. I think it was a mixture of chocolate and hazlenut. Whatever it was, it was good.

Danny took me to the toilets but then Dad said that it was time to go to a museum because that is what’s fun around here apparently? Danny has this fear of losing me or something. I don't understand it because I should be the one who is worried. The last time I got lost, I cried through the entire store until finding Dad. But he gets all worked up whenever he doesn’t know where I am. Secretly, I don’t mind.

The museum took forever to get to. Dad says it was only about half an hour, but we had to go to this train. I love trains. I really like Thomas the Tank Engine, but this was definitely not Thomas the Tank Engine. If anyone asks, my favourite train is probably Toby because he’s kinda different. He’s a boxcar. I like different.

Danny said we needed to let our parents do this museum thing on their own. He thinks I don’t know, but I know that’s his way of saying we need to give them some space.

So we went along our way. I want to look at the paintings. I brought my book to draw stuff in. I just want to sit and appreciate the cultural beauty of the art, but Danny says that I sound stupid when I say that. So I just draw in silence as he attempts to get onto the museum wifi.

I am working on the beginning of a pond setting when Danny wants me to get up.

“Come on, Kitty, let’s go” he says.

I pout but do as he says. We HAVE been here for a while, even though I have barely an outline done on my drawing book.

He takes us to the Ancient Egypt section.

Okay. I don’t really like this. It’s kinda scary because there are things EVERYWHERE just looking at us. Danny says I’m being babyish but it’s kinda freaky. Creepy. I take out my drawing book and pencil to draw a scarab. It has an easy shape but hard to get perfectly right. My teacher, Ms. Lynn, would say I’m being “too picky”, but ya gotta get it right. I am putting the finishing touches on this drawing when I look up and realize I’ve been standing here without Danny. WHERE DID HE GO.

All of a sudden, everything is turning on me. I see freaky mummies everywhere. My stomach starts to sink. I hug my book and walk to a wall. My head feels weird, and things are starting to spin. I feel fine but also not fine. I’m not crying, but I’m also not not crying.

“Kitty cat!” Danny comes from out of nowhere.

“Danny.”

“Hey, Kitty. I’m sorry, I was-"

“Texting. I know.” I am looking at him, his phone still in his hand.

He stops. He looks at his phone and puts it in his pocket.

“I’m sorry. It’s gone."

“I don’t like it here. They’re out to get me."

“Hey, let’s go somewhere else."

“Did you get to see what you wanted to?"

He thinks for a second. “No, but I can see you don’t want to be here."

“No, it’s okay. We can go in.” I can see the entrance of the “pyramid” and a small, hopeful look in his eyes.

“You sure, Kitty Cat?"

“Yeah. But then can we go find something else?"

“Sure. What do you want to go see?"

“Umm. Can we go see the objects room?"

“The objects room?"

“Yeah. It looked interesting."

“Objects?"

“Yeah."

“What kind of objects?"

“That’s what I want to find out.” I actually don’t really care, I just want to get far away from here.

He sighs, “Okay. Let’s do thirty minutes in here and then go find your objects."

“And then we can go find ice cream?"

“We just ate!"

“No, we didn’t. We ate forever ago."

“Okay, Kitty. We can-“ He stops, obviously looking at something but quickly says, “We can go find a snack.”

He takes my hand and walks like nothing happened.

I may be a kid, and I may not know much, but one thing I am good at is remembering faces. Ms. Lynn says I might be a good artist some day. And I definitely remember the kind face with the fancy hat I turned to see. He has a nice face. And I may be a kid, but I’m also not stupid. I know my brother, and I know when he gets jumbly.

We walk into the exhibit, me holding my book tight and him jumbling along. I look back to see the boy again. He is looking at some things away from us.

“Come on, Kitty.” Danny pulls at my hand.

“Okay. Okay. I’m coming. Hold your horses."

We walk in, and it is actually kind of cool. But I get bored after ten minutes and just want to find my objects. I lean against the wall and start to draw. I’m just scribbling because I don’t know what to draw. Ms. Lynn says that I do good drawings, better than some people her age, she says. I start to think about the boy from the crepe stand. I draw his face and start filling it in. Ms. Lynn says that I look at things other kids my age don’t. It’s not unbelievable. Having an artist for a parent makes me think about lines and shapes. Maybe that’s stupid for a kid to be saying, but if Danny was playing the piano when he was my age, I can be making art. I am finishing his hair when Danny comes back for me.

“You ready to find your objects?"

I jump up, excited. “Yes!” I practically drag us out of the exhibit.

We head towards the other side of the museum. Danny is holding my hand and the map in his other hand, he hasn’t taken his phone out since, I have my book, we are going to see cool objects, and we are both smiling. Maybe museums aren’t as boring as I thought.

-Anna-

[writingacrossborders-blog]

Crepes, Tomato Frogs, and Betrayal

Chapter Five

I am stuck waiting in line behind this guy that has to be a tourist. He has a white and black striped t-shirt on, a black cardigan tied over his shoulders, and (I kid you not) a red beret tilted over his black curls. It's like someone copied him out of a stereotypical Parisian comic and pasted him in the line for crepes at the zoo. I watch him shiver a bit in the chilly temperatures and feel myself internally fighting between the fact that if he simply broke his Parisian fantasy and wore his sweater like a normal person, he would be a lot happier (and warmer) and also being really attracted to the fact that he is willing to fight the blustery winds to look the way he wants to look. My eyes trace his hand as it reaches back to adjust his beret and I take a deep breath. Yeah, the irritation is rubbing away and is replaced more and more by the attraction thing.

It's been a while since this happened last- ever since I set my sights on Elle, I was able to ignore the fact that I kind of had a thing for both guys and girls. I wish that it wasn't something that I feel like I need to hide. My school is pretty cool about stuff like that. A guy named Connor that I used to kind of like came out as gay last year and everyone seemed to be really chill about it. Also, my parents are super liberal, so I don't think that they would freak or anything, but for some reason, it still feels like a dirty little secret. I keep imagining these situations in my head where I sit down and tell Elle that I want to be her boyfriend, but also that sometimes I think guys are really freaking cute, and then she panics and runs off, or she pretends like she is accepting, but also thinks that I am cheating on her every time that I am hanging out with my crew playing video games. It's just easier, for now, to say that I am girl crazy and focus on Elle. Plus, she's been snapchatting me non-stop since I connected to the zoo wi-fi and I still get butterflies every time I feel my phone buzz.

"Danny, I think mom and dad are fighting." I look down and see Kitty wrapped around my leg, her eyes welling up with tears. I am seriously the worst older brother- I didn't even know she was there. I pick her up and wrap her around so she is riding piggyback. I hear her giggle in between the sniffles.

"Why do you think they are fighting?"

"I don't know. Mom was really nervous and shaky and then they were talking about some random dude and then dad shooed me away like he does when he wants to have a serious chat." I look over my shoulder and, sure enough, my parents are exchanging these intense whispers. My mom is actually pulling at the ends of her hair and looks really exasperated and my dad looks like he is hot and sweaty despite the fact that it could probably start snowing any minute. Nobody seems to be paying them any attention and I am grateful for the fact that my parents have the decency to not get into a full-fledged yelling match in the middle of the zoo. I am still worked up a bit, though, because we aren't even three days into the trip and already there are arguments happening.

"I'll tell you what, Kitty, I'll get you any kind of crepe that you want and we can go back and look at the fossa." I feel her bouncing on my back and smile. At least I can do one thing right.

"I want the one with chocolate and banana!"

"You got it Kittyroo."

The line is moving slowly but surely, but we finally near the front. The tourist guy is still putting money back in his wallet at the counter when the lady calls us up. I try to keep him out of my peripheral vision as I order.

"Bonjour! Can we have a banana and chocolate crepe and one with Nutella and strawberries as well?"

The lady nods, "Oui, ten euros."

I try to adjust Kitty on my back so I can access my wallet in my front pocket, but it's a balancing act that isn't going very well. I unhook one of my arms from under her legs and she starts to slip down my back with a shriek. I quickly re-hook.

"Kitty, I need you to hold on tight so I can give the woman the money." I feel her arms go tight around my neck and her breathing into my hair, but my anxiety about letting her go again is in full-force. I am trying to figure out if I should put her down or fight my anxiety, but can't focus while the woman behind the window is glaring at me with her palm out. She probably thinks I can't afford it or something.

And then, god help me, the tourist from before steps in and gives the woman a ten euro note, speaking to her in rapid French. She accepts it and hands out the crepes, waving us aside so that she can help the next customer. I don't know if I am more shocked that the cute guy just paid for Kitty and I, or that he isn't a tourist after all. There is no way that anyone other than a born Frenchman could have such a flawless accent.

"Thank you so much... I mean merci..." I manage to choke out. "I will pay you back, I promise".

"It is not a problem." He grins at me, his accent thick. "I have a sister as well. I understand."

He starts to walks off, glancing back at Kitty and me, and just as I am about to stop him, my phone buzzes- a snapchat from Elle bringing me back to reality. Mom and dad show up, too, seemingly all sorted from their argument.

"Who was that?" Dad asks, grabbing our crepes for us, and then leading us to a bench.

"No idea."

Dad shrugs and Kitty slides off my back onto the bench. I sit down next to them all. My parents smiling, Kitty licking chocolate off her fingers, and sigh.

I send a picture of my crepe to Elle.

My secret is still safe for now.

Written by: Abigail

[writingacrossborders-blog]

Is it the air, or did this vacation just get chilly?

Chapter Four

I still can’t believe Amara took us to Paris. For a woman who regularly uses her Twitter to advocate for bans on cigarettes and weed, she took us to a city that went so far as to ban old-model cars to fight their poor air quality? Not only is the smog from car emissions terrible, but every foot there seems to be a person smoking their cancer stick.

The biggest reason I’m surprised by Amara’s choice is because of Dan’s asthma. When he was young, we had some terrifying visits to the hospital before he was properly diagnosed and medicated. Since reaching high school, Dan has been using the gym regularly every morning, and the exercise has definitely helped keep the symptoms further under control. But being in such a polluted environment these last few days made me anxious, even though it seemed Dan was handling it fine. I was relieved when Amara told me we’d go stay with a friend outside the city after the first few days, so at least Dan could breathe fresh air at night.

“Dad Dad Dad Dad!!!” Kitty tugs on my hand, pointing excitedly at the animal in the enclosure. “It’s a kitty!!!” She tilts her head. “It’s a funny looking kitty, though.”

“That’s a fossa, sweetie.” I kneel next to her. “It lives in Madagascar.”

“Madagascar…like the movie??”

“You got it!” I smile as Kitty’s eyes light up.

“Don’t you agree the fossa is cute, Dan?” Amara asks. Even though Dan won’t admit it, I can tell he is enjoying the Paris Zoological Park. He’s been taking Snapchats of all the animals and sending them to that girl he likes. He hasn’t admitted to it, but no one gets that upset about missing homework study sessions unless they really like the person they’re supposed to study with.

“I liked the tomato frog more,” Dan says. “It reminded me it’s past lunch time.” His emphasis on the last words and the look he throws my way makes me laugh.

“We can go get food,” I say, standing up and lifting Kitty onto my back. “Let’s go.” As Dan zooms ahead in a beeline to the food stands, I come up to Amara and take her hand. “Is everything okay?”

“Maybe I should have picked a warmer place for the holidays,” Amara says, her eyebrows scrunched.

“No, honey, it’s fine. It’s great! The kids are having fun. Right, Kitty?”

“Yeah!!!” Amara still looks worried.

“Coming to Paris in December was a good choice. It’s not nearly as busy this time of year as the summer months. It took us less than two hours to get up the Eiffel Tower. And December is one of the cheapest times to visit. You made a great choice.” I can tell Amara is still nervous. “There’s something else on your mind, isn’t there?”

Amara’s fingers start moving restlessly in my hand, and suspicion starts to color my thoughts.

“Honey?”

“Yes?”

“Which friend, exactly, are we going to stay with starting tonight?” Her fingers start dancing more frantically, and I know I’m on the right track. “Well?”

“It’s…” Amara takes a deep breath. “It’s Isaac. Isaac Laurent.”

My brain slowly processes that information, searching for why that name sounds familiar. Then it clicks.

I stop walking. Amara stops with me. I put Kitty down. “Go join Dan, okay, Kitty? We’ll be right there.”

“Okay!” Kitty says with a big grin. She eagerly takes off to join her brother. I turn to Amara.

“Is this that Isaac? The one who dated your sister for several years before breaking it off because…” I look Amara in the eyes. “…because he fell in love with you?”

Chapter by: Lisa

[writingacrossborders-blog]

Are we there yet

Chapter Three

Danny thinks I’m stupid. Okay, I’m six years old and I guess that’s not even one year in dog years, but I do know stuff.

This was the longest trip of my life. I think it was eight hours long. It was so freaking long. I’m not supposed to say the word “freaking”, but it doesn’t keep me from thinking it. And we roll off the plane and get to the place where we can get our suitcases, and Danny has to go and freak it up for all of us by being a drag because he didn't want to spend his winter holiday here, and then he has to say that I’m annoying but that I just don’t know it. I don't appreciate your tone, Daniel.

I'm trying to sound older.

I don't appreciate your tone, Daniel. That's what grown-ups say when they're trying to say you're being stupid but it isn't nice to say you're being stupid.

He thought I was annoying because this was the longest trip of my life, and I wanted to do something. He didn't want to talk, so I started talking to the person beside us. Maybe I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, but eight hours does something to you, and I just needed to freaking talk. He was very kind and taught me “bonjour” and “merci” and “j’ai faim” and “pardon”. But he didn’t tell me how to ask for the bathroom, and I kinda think that’s important.

Then he went to sleep, so I was left alone to my thoughts because Danny was watching something, but I wasn't allowed to watch anything because I'm only six. So I was stuck with my iPod that is actually Danny's iPod that he had to give me when he got his iPhone. I spent the next four hours with Taylor Swift, Shawn Mendes, Paul McCartney, The London Symphony Orchestra, the cast of Dear Evan Hansen, and Ariana Grande. And One Direction, rip. They brought us dinner, and that was disgusting. Plane food is gross.

It is now evening, and we have arrived at our lodgings. I am trying to sound older, so “arrived” and “lodgings” are right, right? I am tired tired tired after a LONG day of doing sitting and “conversing” with a person. My parents got us a hotel or motel for our first few nights in Paris, and then they told us we are going to go stay with someone else. I think my mom has a friend or someone in Paris. I don’t really know. I just know I need a bed.

We get to our hotel or motel room, and I go immediately for the bathroom that I still don’t know how to say in French.

Okay, so there are two toilets. “Toilets” is right, yeah? Grown up as freak. Mom has to help me figure out how to take a shower, but soon we are all clean and ready for bed. Dad turns on the TV, but Danny is already passed out in our bed. His phone goes off.

Going to miss you :)

Have a good flight

I’ll be waiting for you! So excited to hear about your trip when you get back!

Gross. The WiFi must have kicked in. He’s talking to girls. Or boys. Either way, it's gross. Mom and Dad say he's turning into a teenager. Mom and Dad also say I shouldn’t say it’s gross, but it kinda is.

I finish writing this in my journal and move on to the more important things like learning bonjure and mareci. But it’s getting late. And I’m tired from the long day. I put my journal to the side and grab the blankets because Danny boy likes to hog the covers.

-Anna-

[writingacrossborders-blog]

Gritting My Teeth

Chapter Two


“For God’s sake dad, yes, we are going to Paris. Can you give it a break?” I watch my mom sigh, and immediately feel bad for snapping, but I can’t help it when it comes to my dad. This guy mopes about the house all day complaining about having to make dinner again and being an all-around miserable human because he isn’t working like he wants to be. To be fair, he keeps pretty busy watching my younger sister, Kitty. She goes to some progressive elementary school in the suburbs where they don’t believe in keeping your kids in school all day, so he’s always taking her out for activities and such in the afternoon.


I, on the other hand, am the epitome of an average high school boy. With no “good morning” from my parents, I am out of the house by 7 AM to lift weights as an alternative P.E., I zombie my way through most of my classes, only speaking up when called out by a caffeine-loaded and kid-hating teacher to answer a question that I will never use in the real world, then coming home after drama-rehearsal to fall asleep while doing homework. And I’m girl crazy, well… one-girl-in-particular crazy.


Elle McDoneghy is the actual girl of my dreams. She is witty and sarcastic, and believe it or not, is fully aware of my existence. By some luck of the gods, I was paired with her in AP Chemistry this year. We were going to meet up a few times over Christmas break to “work on homework” together, which I was hoping secretly meant making out while watching Frosty the Snowman on her dad’s couch. You can imagine my disappointment, then, when my mom told me that we would be spending these weeks romping around Paris. Who the hell wants to spend their Christmas holiday in the most romantic city in the world with their dysfunctional family?


Speaking of, I come back to reality as my dad pulls me aside while mom re-adjusts the bags and gets all of the documents in order for boarding.


“Can we try to keep the arguing to a minimum? For your mother?” He looks at me with pleading eyes that are a little bit pathetic, and definitely hard to say no to.


“I’ll do my best.” I mumble, trying my best to not meet his eyes at the same time he is desperately searching for mine. He smiles and hesitantly claps me on the shoulder as we head back to the girls. My mom gives me a glance and my smile pulls up in the corner. Whether or not I want to be on this trip right now, I am well-aware that mom spent every second of her free time planning it and I want her to know that I appreciate the effort. Kitty reaches out with her right hand, her left thumb in her mouth. It’s a habit that my mom has been trying to break for almost a year now, but Kitty isn’t swayed easily especially for a six-year-old.


“Danny?” She asks me with big eyes. The only person in the world is allowed to call me Danny instead of Daniel or Dan.


“What’s up Kitty Cat?”


"Paris is where the Eiffel Tower is right? And where they eat snails?“ Her face scrunches up as she asks the second question as if gripped with nausea at the fact that someone could eat something so disgusting, even though I am pretty sure I saw her eat a worm in the backyard when she was gardening with dad last year.


"You got it. That’s Paris in a nutshell.” She hums, obviously pleased with herself that she knew the ins and outs of the capital of France. My phone buzzes as we get in line. We have a layover in New York, but the flight is still jam-packed and the line is extortionately long. My heart pounds loudly as I realize that the reason my phone went off is because I have a message from Elle.


Hope your trip goes well! Make sure that you have wi-fi sometimes so I can message you if I get really stuck on chem! Also, I have always wanted one of those Eiffel Tower keychains… ;)


I can feel my face stretch with the smile that comes from reading that and start to feel warm with embarrassment. Who would’ve thought that a message about a keychain would get me so hot and bothered? Dad snaps his fingers in front of my face breaking me out of my reverie.


“Hello, earth to Dan, hand the lady your boarding passes.” I scowl at him, annoyed that he broke me out of my daydream, but mostly because he makes me feel even more like a freak than I already am. I pass over Kitty and my documentation to be scanned and we are gestured through to the jet bridge. I unclench my teeth as we are led to our seats and breathe deeply once Kitty and I are both buckled in and ready for take-off. 5 hours down, only two weeks to go…
 


Chapter by: Abigail


[writingacrossborders-blog]

Chicago Driving is the Worst

Chapter One

I love driving. Except in Chicago.

Just as I’m about to pull into the lane for the off ramp, the car behind me swerves over and pulls up next to me. I hit my brakes to a chorus of horns blaring all around, and barely make the merge.

“Fu– God dammit,” I say, switching to a lesser swear mid-sentence before Amara can shoot me a look. She used to swear worse than I when we were dating, but over the course of her residency, she had cut back tremendously in respect to her patients. I had also cut back on my habit since the kids were born, but Chicago driving is the one thing that makes me lose my mind.

“Sorry, honey,” I apologize, eyes still on the road.

“It’s fine,” Amara says. She turns around to shush the kids as I turn into Lot E at Chicago O’Hare.

This is the first real vacation Amara has had in years. It wasn’t so much a vacation for me. Being a stay-at-home dad, I would be taking care of the kids like usual, just in a different setting for a week. What that setting would be, though, I still didn’t know. Amara had kept her plans a secret ever since she started organizing the trip. It irked me somewhat, the secrecy, but the excitement I saw in her tired eyes whenever she sat down at the computer after getting home from a late-night surgery made me hold my tongue.

“Let’s move, everyone,” Amara says as I pull into a spot. “We don’t know how long the lines will be and there’s only two hours until our flight.”

I used to be the one comfortable issuing demands. I’d been working in newsrooms for years, ever since the internship I did one spring at Mizzou for credit led to a full-time placement following graduation. When I became news director of a local station, I thought I’d finally landed my dream job. That is, until Sinclair got involved.

Only recently has the media given attention to the Sinclair Broadcast Group’s takeover of local stations, but their buyouts have been going on for years. I felt that takeover personally when the station I worked for got bought. The shift in culture that came with some of Sinclair’s mandated news segments got me into plenty of arguments with the company’s president. In the end, I quit. I couldn’t deal with such a loss in my autonomy.

Amara was understanding. She was supportive. And she just so casually dropped the bombshell news that she was pregnant again.

When I learned that fact, I was in hysterics. To learn I’d quit my job just as we’d need to prepare for another mouth to feed made me feel awful. Amara assured me everything would be fine. She argued that if I stayed home to handle the kids she would be able to focus more on her work, and she would be able to more quickly achieve a salaried position that could support us all. Eventually I agreed to her reasoning. Aka, I was forced to accept her plan after failing to find any open positions at other nearby stations.

With me watching the kids, Amara did indeed experience enormous career advancement to the point she was now one of the top surgeons in her hospital system. I felt proud watching her accomplishments, and I felt proud watching our kids grow, but I also felt a small ball of resentment accumulating in my mind as opportunities to reenter and advance in my own career slipped further and further away.

My mind comes back to the present as Amara hustles the kids out of the car. I take control of all the luggage, and we head in to the craziness that is Chicago O’Hare. We check two bags before suffering through the tedious TSA inspection. Finally, with only minutes until our boarding time, we reach our gate. I look at the destination.

“Amara,” I say, “Are we really going to?...”

Chapter by: Lisa