It's Only Temporary Read online

  “You think Scott is one of the lucky ones?” Skye asked, struggling to make it sound like a casual question.

  “I do,” Ms. Santina said, nodding. “But I want to prepare you for what to expect over the next few months. Scott is aware he’s been in an accident, but only because we’ve told him so. He doesn’t remember much about it, though, and he doesn’t really know yet how serious it was.”

  “Huh,” Skye said, trying to take it all in. “But this not-remembering stuff is just for now, right? It’s not forever. He’s gonna get all better, right?”

  “Well, not all better,” Ms. Santina said cautiously. “It remains to be seen how far his recovery will take him.”

  “But – but we’ve done everything the doctors said,” Skye argued.

  “Even so,” Ms. Santina said, her voice gentle.

  “So does that mean Scott’s, like, retarded now?” Skye made herself ask the question. “No matter how hard he works at getting better?”

  “Not at all,” Ms. Santina said. “But Scott has a lot of challenges to face. He’ll probably be frustrated at times –with other people and himself. And he’ll be depressed.”

  “Like I said, that’s kind of the way he was before,” Skye said.

  “Well, multiply that by ten,” Ms. Santina told her. “It’s going to be tough, Skye.”

  “I really think he’d be better off staying here,” Skye repeated, louder this time.

  “Let’s see how he does during the trial visit home,” Ms. Santina said, glancing at her watch and getting to her feet – which obviously meant their time together was over, Skye realized, kissing about a thousand questions good-bye. “Good luck, Skye,” Ms. Santina said, reaching out to take her hand. “And remember to take care of yourself.”

  “Sure, okay,” Skye said, shaking hands. “And thanks for helping my brother. I’m sorry if he was ever rude to you or anything. He didn’t mean it.”

  “You don’t have to make excuses for him, Skye,” Ms. Santina said, frowning a little. “I know you two are pretty close, but Scott’s on his path now, and you’re on yours. And both paths are equally important.”

  “Did he say we were close?” Skye asked, genuinely curious – because they hadn’t been, not for years.

  “He said you guys were like this,” Ms. Santina said, smiling, and she held two fingers together.

  “Huh,” Skye said, trying to mask her expression–because she and Scott weren’t “like this” at all before the accident.

  They were like that.

  3

  To Say Good-bye

  “So how come you’re the one who has to move in with your grandmother in California, when it’s Scott who has all the problems?” Skye’s friend Hana asked a month later as they walked through the air-conditioned mall. The Albuquerque school year was going to start in less than a week, and Hana was supposed to be hunting for bargains. “I thought he was getting better,” she added, frowning.

  “He is getting better, I guess,” Skye said, sighing. “He has his ups and downs, though, and lately there have been more downs than ups.”

  That was putting it mildly, she thought, remembering her brother’s most recent scenes: yelling at the visiting physical therapist, a muscle-bound blond guy in his late twenties who remained stubbornly cheerful even as Scott’s curses echoed throughout the house; refusing to read aloud to Skye as part of his speech therapy, or to practice his keyboarding; nagging their mom for junk food snacks, even though he wasn’t getting any exercise and was definitely putting on weight.

  His friends had mostly stopped coming by to see him–that was one problem, Skye thought. Well, it was summer, she told herself, and everyone was busy, and Scott’s accident was old news by now. He was no longer everyone’s pet accident victim; kids had moved on to other things.

  But worst of all, Stacie had broken up with Scott – even though they weren’t officially boyfriend and girlfriend. But she’d wanted to make sure he, and everyone, knew it was over before school started. Skye couldn’t really blame Stacie for that, even though Stacie had chosen e-mail as the way to let Scott know.

  That was pretty brutal.

  And then there were Scott’s nightmares – though they sometimes came in the middle of the day. Like last week, for example. “Eee-yahhhh,” he’d suddenly roared, waking from a nap in front of the TV and throwing his head back as he howled.

  Skye had raced into the family room, her heart thudding.

  “No, no, no,” Scott shouted. “Nonononono-o-o!” He hid his face, as if trying to protect it – from an invisible car’s tumble through the desert night, Skye guessed.

  “You’re okay, Scotty,” she yelled, stepping back a little because she was so frightened. “This isn’t really happening.”

  Only – the accident was happening again, obviously. For him, anyway.

  Where was her mom? Crying in the laundry room, like that other time?

  No, she’d gone to the store, Skye remembered suddenly. And her father was supposed to have come home early from work today, but there was no sign of him.

  (Boy, that had caused a fight when Skye’s mom got home! And by the time the fight was over, it had been decided that Skye should move to Sierra Madre, California, for the semester.)

  Skye had tried to grab Scott’s sleeve, and to her horror, he actually took a swing at her. Her own big brother! And suddenly Skye was absolutely furious – at Scott, for trying to hit her, even though he didn’t really know he was doing it, and at her mom and dad, for leaving her alone with her crazy brother, and–

  “Look out!” Scott had cried, and he crumpled onto the sofa once more, panting. He covered his eyes with both hands and tried to curl up into a ball.

  Skye counted to three, afraid to go near him.

  Then Scott looked up and saw her for the first time. His now-pudgy face was streaked with tears, and he looked confused. “When is Mom coming home?” he asked.

  “Pretty soon, Scotty. Pretty soon,” some stranger inside her had managed to reply – in the calmest voice anyone ever heard.

  “Look at that skirt,” Hana was saying now, nudging Skye in the ribs. “Wake up! What do you think?”

  “It’s cute,” Skye said, trying unsuccessfully to picture the patchwork denim mini on Hana, who was both taller and rounder than Skye.

  “I’m gonna try it on,” Hana said, excited.

  “Wow,” Skye said. “Would your mom let you wear something that short, Hana?” she asked. “Even if the principal will?”

  “She’ll get used to it,” Hana said, grabbing Skye by the hand and dragging her into the store, which was practically shaking with music.

  A few minutes later, the two girls were crammed into a dressing room, the flimsy curtain barely shielding them as Hana wrestled herself into the too-tight skirt. “Want me to get you another size?” Skye asked, carefully not saying “bigger,” because Hana liked being the same size as her. It was one of their things.

  “No, this is perfect,” Hana replied, attempting to tug the hem down a little. “Don’t you think? I am definitely getting this,” she said, narrowing her eyes and looking both determined and ready to fight. “You should tell your mom and dad you don’t want to go,” she added, as if she were completing the last part of the same thought.

  “They already bought my plane ticket,” Skye said softly, still looking in the mirror at her friend. “I leave in two more days. They want me to get all settled in with Gran in Sierra Madre before school starts. But it’s only temporary, Hana. I’ll be back soon.”

  “How soon?” Hana asked, frowning.

  “Thanksgiving vacation, for sure,” Skye said. “And Christmas, too. I’ll be home for good by the time next semester starts. That’s the plan, anyway.”

  Hana steadied herself against Skye as she wriggled out of the skirt. “Too bad my mom’s so strict about me using my cell, ever since that famous bill, or I’d call you at least every morning and every night,” she said, panting a little.

 
; “We can always text,” Skye told her.

  “Nope,” Hana said, shaking her head. “They’ve started charging, like, fifteen cents apiece for receiving or sending a text message, and my mom says that could add up to, like, a couple of dollars a day, easy, just for you and me. So that’s out, too.”

  “Well, what about e-mail?” Skye asked.

  “We could do that, I guess,” Hana said, sounding a little gloomy, because she hated what she called “normal writing,” as opposed to texting.

  “You have to promise, Hana,” Skye said, turning to face her. “I’m going to be stuck all alone in California while my real life is happening here, without me.”

  “Okay,” Hana said, relenting. “I promise I’ll write.”

  “It sucks to say good-bye,” Skye said softly.

  “It totally does,” Hana agreed.

  But her friend’s attention had already wandered, Skye saw with dismay, and Hana was caressing her new skirt, obviously imagining her first day at Taft – a day when Skye would be attempting to build some sort of life in an unreal alternate universe, in a completely different world.

  “Thanks for nothing, Scott,” Skye whispered.

  4

  Eucalyptus Terrace

  Skye stifled a yawn as she sneaked a sideways look at her grandmother. In spite of living in Southern California her whole life, Gran hated freeway driving and didn’t mind saying so. “Stay awake, darling,” Gran said, not taking her eyes off the road.

  “Okay,” Skye said, trying to look alert.

  Wow, she thought, pretending to keep an eye on the traffic whizzing past them on the left. This whole California thing was going to be weird–because having a nice, jolly grandmother come to visit in Albuquerque for a few days over Thanksgiving, or meeting up with her at the Grand Canyon for a family vacation, was different from moving in with her all alone for an entire semester.

  Gran was Skye’s father’s mother. She had faded brown hair that sprang from her head in determined curls, and blue eyes, and a big grandmotherly lap, in spite of her interest in both exercise and healthy eating. In fact, Skye thought, Gran might be the world’s largest nutritional expert – which sounded like a put-down, but it wasn’t. Skye thought pulling something like that off was awesome.

  It was like being a teenage girl – Scott’s ex-girlfriend Stacie, say – who wasn’t really pretty but hypnotized everyone into thinking that she was. Or being the guy who wore ugly clothes that everyone thought were cool. Or being the kid at school who came up with a quirky trademark so off-the-wall that in normal life, people would think maybe they should cross the street to get away from him, but everyone just totally accepted it.

  Skye, on the other hand, had formulated a plan during the two-hour flight from Albuquerque, New Mexico, to Los Angeles, California: she would not draw attention to herself in any way, shape, or form during her stay. Her goal for this semester was either to blend in perfectly, or, better, to become invisible.

  “Almost home,” her grandmother said. The houses seemed to crawl by in a slow-motion blur as the Toyota climbed the hill toward Sierra Madre, and Eucalyptus Terrace. “Can you spell ‘eucalyptus’?” Gran asked, relaxing her grip on the wheel just a little as she signaled to make a left-hand turn.

  Skye smiled. “I live in Albuquerque, Gran,” she told her grandmother. “I can spell anything.”

  “Oh, right,” Gran said, smiling. “Just making conversation, really. But you’re so quiet, darling. Are you thinking about poor Scott?”

  “No,” Skye said, turning her head and looking out of the window once more. There were enough people thinking about “poor Scott” to last a lifetime, weren’t there? “We’re here,” she said as her grandmother turned into what looked like a wide driveway, but was really a very-short dead-end street.

  “Finally,” Gran said, her Toyota creeping to the end of the street. “Wave hello to Maddy, Skye. She lives across the street now, and she’ll be in your grade at school.”

  “Really?” Skye asked, giving the blond girl – Maddy, who was attempting to water some flowers with a tangled-up hose – a halfhearted wave. “She looks younger than me.”

  “We’ll talk about that some other time,” Gran said, pulling into her driveway. She clambered stiffly out of the car and stretched. “Now, let’s get you settled in, darling. You can check your e-mail after you unpack.”

  HI SKYE. U R MY K-BRDING 2 DAY + THEN I HAVE PT. MOM IS SLPNG + DAD IS AT WRK. THIS SUX SCOTT

  “What does he have to say?” Gran asked, bustling into her tiny home office.

  “He says hi,” Skye reported. “And that I’m his key-boarding assignment today. Then he has physical therapy. And my mom is sleeping, and my dad is still at work.”

  “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Gran said, peering over her shoulder – which was something that was not going to fly once Hana started writing, Skye thought, trying to hide her irritation. “You can almost understand what he’s trying to say,” Gran added.

  “It’s a lot better than the way he was typing last month, anyway,” Skye told her.

  “He’ll improve in leaps and bounds, you’ll see,” Gran said, patting Skye on the back. “Don’t worry, Skye. He’ll get better every single day.”

  Skye frowned, not knowing how to reply – because that wasn’t what the social worker told her a couple of weeks earlier, talking about Scott. She’d said, “It’ll be two steps forward, one step back. That’s on a good day, Skye. And there’s no knowing yet how far he’ll be able to go.”

  But there was no point in telling Gran that, Skye decided, signing off. At least one person in the family should be allowed to remain an optimist.

  5

  Very, Very, Very, Very Nervous

  HI SKYE. I WALKD LAPS IN THE POOL AT LOONIES. SCHOOL STARTED NOONE COMES TO SEE ME EVEN JERMY. BUT JT WRKS HERE NOW HES COOL. U R MY KEBORDING 2 DAY. MOM HRT HER BACK IT SUX. FROM SCOTT

  HI SKYE. I HAD A SEZURE, THAT SUX. DAD SAY MOM FREKD OUT BUT I DONT REMBER IT. FROM SCOTT

  Hi, Scott. Congratulations about walking laps in the pool. Gran says hi. From Skye

  Hey, Hana! How’s it going at Taft? Did you get to wear your new skirt? I’m bored times three, bored bored bored. School starts next week and I am very, very, very, very nervous. Scott is doing great and I am sure I will get to come home soon. Luv, Skye

  Hi Skye! School is going ok. Soooooo busy here but miss U lots. Luv U, Hana

  6

  First Day of School

  “You should eat a more substantial breakfast, darling,” Gran told Skye the first day of school, representatives from all the known food groups arrayed around her own breakfast plate like an admiring audience. “A multigrain toaster waffle, at least,” she suggested, peering at Skye’s half-eaten energy bar with suspicion. “Maybe with a little apple butter on it.”

  “I’m too nervous to eat that much,” Skye said, sliding her sketchbook into her book bag, having pasted an ordinary spiral notebook cover onto the front the night before to make it less noticeable. A secret artist was the best kind to be, Skye had decided – especially if you wanted to be invisible in a brand-new school. That way, you could draw exactly what you wanted to draw, the way you wanted to draw it.

  Art was something no one could take away from you, no matter where the grown-ups in your life made you move.

  Gran leaned back in her chair and gave Skye a smile so wide that her face creased like the top of a dinner roll. “You’re excited, not nervous,” she informed Skye. “But it’s the same thing, scientifically speaking.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m nervous, Gran,” Skye objected, secretly annoyed.

  Gran shrugged. “If you want to argue with science,” she said, carefully layering cheese and turkey on a piece of toast.

  “I’d better go,” Skye told her, looking away before she hurled – because, scientifically speaking, that’s what she thought she was about to do.

  “But it’s just a fifteen-minute walk to school,” Gran
protested, the sagging piece of toast halfway to her mouth. “And Maddy isn’t here yet. I thought you two could walk to school together,” she added, looking pleased with herself. “You’ve both been through orientation, but it’ll be nice to have some company the first day, won’t it?”

  “Maddy?” Skye asked, startled. True, they’d been hanging out a little over the past three weeks, the way you’re basically forced to do with neighbor kids your same age, but Skye had already seen Maddy freak out twice so far: once when a favorite TV show was canceled for a news conference, and once when Maddy’s dad mistakenly brought home pizza with green peppers on it, which Maddy said ruined the entire pizza for good.

  “I just like things to be right,” Maddy had tried to explain when that pizza crisis was over.

  “Well, everyone does,” Skye replied, struggling to keep her voice steady.

  “Yes, but I need things to be right,” Maddy had insisted.

  What was up with Maddy? Skye didn’t know, and all Gran would tell her was, “Everyone’s got something they have to deal with, and so does Maddy.”

  Maybe so, Skye thought now – but she knew she wanted to be alone when she first walked into her temporary new school. Because how was she supposed to blend in, or better yet, be invisible, with someone as unpredictable as Maddy attached to her side?

  It was just too risky.

  “Look, Gran, we can’t walk to school together,” Skye exclaimed. “You should have asked me first,” she added, so angry that she felt as if she was about to start crying. “I wanted to walk to school alone today. And I can choose my own friends, by the way, if I even want to bother having any in Sierra Madre, which I don’t! Just because Maddy and I are the same age, that doesn’t mean– “