AS THE DOOR slid open on Anna’s mom’s van, she stood by the opening, already prepared to greet me.
“Rory, you okay?” she asked. “How did you get all the cup—”
“Anna!” her mom said sharply. She waved a warning finger at her daughter.
I let out a sigh. So Anna had been at the game. She’d seen me get pelted with cupcakes, run from the field crying… I could only imagine what that had been like for her, what she must think of me now.
Her mom waved at me through the passenger window. “Can you come here, Rory?”
I nodded, going up closer to her window. She leaned across so that Anna and the kids sitting in booster seats in the back couldn’t hear. “Rory, are you okay?”
The genuine, kind way she asked brought tears to my eyes. I quickly blinked them back and nodded. “I’m fine.” At least, I would be. I hoped.
“If there’s anything I can do to help…”
I shook my head. There was nothing she could do, and apparently there was nothing I could do either. Except hope for graduation to come quickly.
“I told Anna not to ask you about it. You let me know if she does.”
I smiled and shook my head, glancing toward Anna and her deceptively innocent face. “You know she’s going to.”
Anna’s mom rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but that doesn’t keep me from taking away candy for the rest of the week.”
I pretended to be stunned. “You wouldn’t.” She quirked and eyebrow. “Oh, I would.”
With a smile, I pushed back from her van. “Is it okay if I take Anna on a walk instead of going to the library?”
“Yeah,” she said, “just make sure her earmuffs stay on her ears,” she added loudly.
“Fine, Mom,” Anna replied with all the attitude her first-grade body could muster. She jumped out of the car and pushed the door shut.
Her mom smiled and shook her head. “See you later, girls.”
“Take care.” I waved goodbye and walked beside Anna. “How do you feel about a little spelling trek?”
Her eyebrows came together. “What’s a spelling trek?”
I shrugged. “We’re going to walk around and find things that we can spell.” I pointed at her. “A-n-n-a.”
She smiled. “That sounds fun.” “Okay, let’s spell.”
She looped her fingers around the straps on her backpack and fell in step beside me as we started down the sidewalk that wound around the playground.
“What do you see?” I asked.
She pointed at a tree and spelled, “T-r-e-e.” “Very good,” I said.
“It’s a spelling word this week,” she replied.
“Well, you’re definitely getting a hundred on that test.” She smiled. “Your turn.”
I looked around for something harder and finally pointed out the cement in front of us. “S-i-d-e-w-a-l-k.”
“What does that spell?” she asked. “Sidewalk,” I answered.
“Oh.” She nodded slowly, then pointed at the gray sky overhead. “S-k-
y.”
“Nice.” I pointed at the big yellow slide on the playground. “S-l-i-d-e.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought it over, then a huge smile
dawned on her face. “Slide!” “Exactly!”
We continued like that for a while, walking around and finding harder and harder words to spell until Anna needed help with each one. Eventually,
she pointed at me. “C-o-p-a-k.”
I shook my head and made the R sound. “R-o-r-y.”
“Cupcake doesn’t start with an R,” she said. “I heard everyone calling you that at the game.”
Pain welled inside of me, and I shook my head sadly. “That’s not really my name. It’s just like a nickname one of my friends gave me.”
“Beckett?” she asked, smiling at the sound of his name. “I like him.” “That’s the one,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the ground.
She looked thoughtful for a moment, then pointed at me and spelled, “S-a-d?”
I reached over and pulled her into my side before spelling, “Y-e-s.”
