Ann Martin - Dawn's Big Move

"Urn, guys?" I said. "Don't worry about not scheduling me. Go ahead if you need to."

Claudia shook her head. "It's for a week from Thursday. You won't be here — unless you want to fly back to sit for the Prezziosos."

"I won't need to," I said. "I'm not going."

Claudia dropped the receiver. She quickly picked it up and said into it: "Uh, can I call you back? . . . Thanks, 'bye." Click. She hung up and stared at me. "Whaaaaat?"

"I'm staying here. I've changed my mind."

The room was so quiet I could swear I heard the sun setting. I began laughing. "Well . . . say something!"

"Are you sure?" Mary Anne asked.

"Mm-hm."

"Who-o-oa," Kristy said under her breath. A smile began flickering across her face.

Claudia let out a whooshing breath. "Okay, who's going to organize the Welcome Back party?"

Well, the meeting turned to chaos. Claudia went rummaging around for all the junk food she could find. Mary Anne grabbed a box of

tissues and began wiping tears away. My friends asked me questions, but not many. I think they were afraid that if I thought about my decision too much, I might change my mind.

But the lists had made it clear. The score was at least twelve cons to three pros. I was staying.

At the end of the meeting, Mary Anne and I raced to our bikes. As we rode home, I thought and thought about my one remaining problem.

Breaking the news to my parents.

Chapter 15.

A tear fell onto my book. There was only one word on the page, at the top: JOURNAL. I had written it in bold letters, with a felt-tip pen. I'd never kept a journal before, so I wanted to make a definite, strong statement. Now the ink on the letter L was all smudged, and the page was starting to pucker.

Oh, well. I guess a journal's supposed to be about feelings, and I'll always know what the tear was about.

I tried looking out the window, but the setting sun was too strong. Instead I sat back. My stomach was growling and tumbling, and suddenly I wished I hadn't eaten that huge plate of ravioli for dinner.

I was going to be getting another dinner soon, anyway.

Bing. A bell chimed, followed by a soft voice. "Good evening, folks. I'm Captain Jordan, and

on behalf of the entire flight crew, I'd like to welcome you to transcontinental flight six-six-two to Los Angeles. We've been cleared for takeoff, so we're about to taxi onto the runway. The skies are looking pretty clear ..."

This was it. I shielded my eyes and looked out the window again. This time I could make out the silhouettes of Mom, Richard, and Mary Anne against a window in the airport, staring at the plane. I waved, but they didn't see me.

Now my tears were dripping onto the hand-rest. Someone stirred in the seat next to me, but I didn't turn my head. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. I had just spent the longest, toughest week of my life.

Okay. Let me start from the beginning. I guess that means Monday, after the BSC meeting.

I was sure I'd come to my final decision. Mary Anne and I got home in record time. I called an emergency family meeting during dinner, and Mary Anne sat next to me at the table.

Patiently I described my pro-and-con list to Mom and Richard. I apologized for messing up their plans and waffling back and forth, but my mind was made up. I wasn't going to California.

Mom nodded and smiled. The first thing she

said was, "Sweetheart, sometimes a decision like this can't be made by counting things on a list."

"But it was so lopsided," I said.

"I know," she replied. "But not each item is equally important."

Richard nodded. "Besides, you listed the pros and cons of moving to California. But you didn't list the pros and cons of staying in Stoneybrook."

Well, I exploded at that. "It sounds like you want me to go!"

"Oh, no! No, sweetheart, that's not it at all," Mom said. She sighed deeply, and her eyes began to water. "The list was a great idea. It shows how deeply you've been thinking about this. But I know you, Dawn. I know when you're speaking from your heart and when you're speaking from your brain."

She didn't need to say anymore. My anger started to melt into a little pool and trickle away. Mom was right. My poor little heart had been working overtime for weeks. The list had been a way to give it a rest and let my brain do the work.

Only Mom could see that. It must have been so hard for her to have to convince me to go. But she knew if I let the list make my decision, I'd regret it. "I guess we eventually might have the same problem again, huh?" I said.

Mom shrugged and looked downward sadly, and I thought about how much I loved her.

Next to me, Mary Anne was soaking a tissue. Even Richard had teary eyes. All week long I'd been wondering whether everyone really cared about me. I wasn't wondering anymore.

Our meeting lasted way past dinnertime. I began to talk once again about the reasons I was aching to go to California. That's what it was, an ache. And I realized it would have been impossible to cover it up.

That night I called my friends, one by one. They sounded sad, but I think they were kind of expecting my news. They'd scheduled me for one job the next week, but Kristy assured me she could cover it.

The rest of the week I packed and said lots of good-byes. I went shopping with Claudia and Stacey for new clothes. I had second (third? fourth?) thoughts, but not once did I change my mind again. Then on Friday I had a meeting with Mrs. Amer, who made me feel confident I'd do all right in my new school.

I took a mental picture of SMS as I left it on Friday afternoon, but I didn't say good-bye. It'll be here in six months, I thought, barring an earthquake. Thinking that made me laugh. I really am such a Californian.

At our Friday meeting BSC might as well have stood for the Bawlers and Snifflers Club. We could barely answer the phone. Claudia must have told four different parents she had a cold.

On our final bike ride home, I thought Mary Anne and I would both topple over. It's hard to see the street when your eyes are wet.

Between last-minute packing and shopping, Friday night and Saturday blazed by. Late in the afternoon, the doorbell rang. I ran to open it, with Mary Anne behind me.

Jessi, Mal, Kristy, Stacey, and Claudia were standing on the porch. They were dressed beautifully, holding out a wrapped present.

"Ohhhh, you didn't," 1 said. (Honestly, I don't how a person's body can keep producing so many tears. I thought mine would have been used up by then, but noooooo.)

"We did," Claudia said.

"Should I open it?" I asked.

"Yes," Mal said. "You'll need it on the plane."

I ripped open the wrapping and the box. Inside was a gorgeous, leather-bound book of blank pages.

I gasped. "I love it!" I said.

"It's a journal," Mallory explained. "So you can write down everything that happens."

"And then show us," Stacey added.

"We figured you might get rusty while you were away from the BSC notebook," Kristy said.

"Oh, thanks! I will miss you guys — so — " I couldn't finish. I just threw my arms open and everyone fell into them. We must have stood there for twenty minutes, crying and hugging and I'll-miss-youing.

When they left, I felt a huge tug in my stomach. But I had to think of the flight then.

Mom, Richard, Mary Anne, and I loaded into the car around four o'clock and drove to the Rosebud Cafe for dinner. Logan was working, which was wonderful. I would have felt silly crying in front of a strange busboy.

Dinner was fun, but I think we were all a little nervous about getting stuck in a traffic jam on the way to the airport. I gulped down my ravioli (which, of course, I later regretted).

We reached the airport with plenty of time to spare, which turned out to be a bad idea. Mary Anne and I blubbered uncontrollably. Then Mom and I held onto each other as if we were permanently stuck.