The Survival Kit by Donna Freitas Page A

wove through the crowd. “Well, what happened?”
    “We exchanged hellos. No, wait, I said Chris, then he said my name and there followed an awkward silence as if we didn’t know each other at all. That part was fantastic.”
    “That must have been hard.”
    “It was. He saw the iPod and asked about it. I told him I was trying to listen to music again and he seemed genuinely happy about it. We even shared a moment.”
    “A moment? Please explain.”
    I tried to think of what it was that I felt with Chris. “You know, it’s funny. For a second I thought he might bring up the possibility of getting back together, and I was so hopeful at the time. But as much as I still care about Chris, with even a little bit of distance I’m not sure it’s what I want anymore.”
    Krupa gave me a look. “Really.”
    We arrived at our locker. She opened the door and retrieved her American history textbook, which landed in her bag with a loud thump.
    “Really.”
    “You’re getting over him?”
    “Maybe I am.”

    “I knew you would.”
    I grabbed my book for class and slammed our locker shut. “That’s enough smugness for the day.”
    Before Krupa could say anything else, Kecia Alli appeared. “Hey, guys,” she said. “I was hoping to run into you.”
    “Hi, Kecia,” Krupa said, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and the three of us began walking.
    “What’s up?” I asked her.
    “Friday night is the second hockey game of the season.”
    “I know.”
    “You both should come this time,” Kecia said. “I’ll save seats.”
    “I don’t know. Maybe …” I hesitated.
    Krupa didn’t. “Sounds great,” she said.
    I turned to her in surprise. “Really?”
    “Rose and I will be there,” she told Kecia.
    “Perfect. See you tomorrow then,” Kecia said, and headed upstairs.
    We arrived at the door to our class and I laid my palm across Krupa’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re not sick, agreeing to go to an entire hockey game?”
    People streamed around us on their way into the room. “No, you want to attend a hockey game, and I, your esteemed best friend, will accompany you.”
    “But you hate sports.”
    Krupa looked thoughtful. “After your enthusiastic review I thought I should give hockey a chance.”

    Her tone made me suspicious. “You have an ulterior motive. Spill.”
    “I do not,” she protested.
    “Right. Not buying it.”
    “Okay, fine. You want to know why?”
    I nodded. “Please.”
    “Correct me if I’m wrong, but last weekend’s game was the first truly social thing you’ve done at school since the spring.”
    I thought about what she’d said. “Okay. I’ll give you that.”
    “And you used to be Miss Socialite.”
    “That was because I was dating Chris.”
    “Maybe.” Krupa’s eyes reached up to meet mine. “Listen, all I am trying to say is that last Friday when you came to tell me you wanted to stay for the game, I saw some sort of spark in you. One that I haven’t seen in a long time.”
    “A spark,” I repeated.
    “It’s a good thing,” she said right as the bell rang. Before I had a chance to think too much more about her observation, class began and the teacher was passing out a quiz.
     
     
    After school I was in my room studying when Jim called with news that he was none too happy about. “Guess what?” he asked, sounding annoyed.
    “Are you really going to make me guess?”

    “Well, no. Grandma Madison is coming for Thanksgiving.”
    I groaned. Grandma Madison was not known for her people skills, and the reminder that our first major holiday without Mom was around the corner didn’t help my feelings either. “God, really?”
    “Yeah. And get this, she’s staying through Christmas.”
    “A whole month?”
    “For my entire winter break.” He made a choking sound.
    “I’ll be stuck with her the most anyway.”
    “Just stay out of the house a lot,” he advised.
    “I can’t. Who’s going to take care of Dad?”
    “Grandma Madison, you idiot.