Leaving Paradise by Simone Elkeles Page B

you’re going to see is bad, but you can’t help it. I wonder if that’s how people felt when they saw me lying on the ground after the accident.
    Okay, so I’m just like everyone else. I check out the dance floor and, thankfully, my mom is nowhere to be found. But I do see Kendra Greene. She’s slow dancing with Brian Newcomb as if he were the love of her life.
    My dream is to find a guy who’ll love me despite my flaws and won’t turn away from me when a perfect girl walks by. Maybe a boy like that doesn’t even exist.
    I’m sitting at the table watching Mrs. Reynolds eat. I have no clue how she packs it all in for such a small woman. She takes a small bite of the Spaghetti Spectacular and gives me a nod. “It’s like a burst of flavor and different textures making it taste . . .”
    “Spectacular?” I say.
    “Quite,” she agrees, and we both laugh.
    Mom comes sidling over to the table. Was that a shimmy I just saw her do as she sat down?
    “What’s so funny?” Mom asks.
    “The spaghetti dish,” Mrs. Reynolds says. “It is spectacular.”
    There’s silence now, because Mom immediately knows we’re talking about Mrs. Becker’s award-winning specialty.
    Mr. Reynolds is sweating and takes a sip of water. “Is something wrong?”
    Mom shakes her head.
    The band guy is yelling for the over-twenty-one crowd to get on the dance floor. Parents flock to the middle of the floor, ready to show off their moves.
    I watch the other kids in my grade running around and enjoying themselves. Brian and Kendra enter the Fun House. Drew Rudolph is trying to coax Brianne onto the Tilt-A-Whirl. My cousin Sabrina is sitting next to her sister on the Ferris wheel.
    “Go on,” Mrs. Reynolds says. “Join your friends.”
    “I don’t have friends,” I admit. “I’m what you call a loser. Or a loner. Take your pick.”
    “Pshaw.”
    “Huh?”
    “Pshaw. Hogwash. You’re a smart, pretty young lady. Girls like you are not losers. Or loners.”
    “I’m not pretty, that’s for sure. And I limp.”
    She looks me up and down. “You may lack fashion sense, but you have fine features when you’re not pouting or looking startled. And the limp . . . as long as it doesn’t bother you, it shouldn’t matter what people think.”
    I believe I have that startled look on my face right now.
    “And what’s this nonsense about you not having any friends? Everyone should have at least one friend.”
    I glance around and spot Leah Becker, sitting alone at one of the tables. Her parents are in a deep conversation with another couple a few feet away. I would walk up to her, but she’d probably ignore me.
    Mrs. Reynolds puts her hand on mine. “Is she a friend?”
    “Used to be.”
    “Go talk to her.”
    “I wouldn’t even know what to say.”
    Mrs. Reynolds lets out a frustrated breath. “Suit yourself, child. But when you’re an old bird like me you’ll be wishing you had more friends in your life. Being alone isn’t fun, is it?”
    “No. Being alone isn’t fun.”
    I look over at my mom, who is now line dancing. She doesn’t look alone. In fact, she hasn’t looked this happy for a long time. Mom smiles at Mr. Reynolds and he smiles back.
    Mr. Reynolds. Lou. My mom’s boss. My boss’ son. Well, whatever his name is, it’s clear to me he has the hots for my mom.
    I don’t know if I should be embarrassed, angry, or happy for her.

nineteen
    Caleb
    My pants are too fucking tight and this shirt has so much starch in it I feel like a mannequin. But I’m here, at the Fall Festival. Once I’m done acting like the model son, I’m outta here.
    I spot my parents by the food pavilion, talking with another couple. Nothing has changed since I’ve been back. My sister is still a zombie, but it’s worse now, because since she ran out of the lunchroom Monday, she’s ignored me. My parents haven’t brought up the accident since I’ve been back. I tried to talk about it, but I’ve been shut down.
    When I walk up to my