11 Birthdays

Chapter Nineteen

As soon as I turn off the alarm that I knew would ring, I reach into the pocket of the sweatpants I had worn to bed. Yup! The periodic table is still there, right where I tucked it last night. I feel a surge of pride that I was able to make it stay overnight. I transfer the folded notebook paper into my jeans, and begin the all-too-familiar process of my birthday morning. I freely admit that if Leo wasn't experiencing this with me, I would completely lose my mind.
I'm in such a rush to talk to Angelina that I bound up the bus steps before Kylie. But Angelina isn't driving! Instead, the young guy I remember from last month is behind the wheel.
"Move," Kylie orders from behind me.
I don't budge. "Where's Angelina?" I ask him, my voice quivering.
"Who?"
"Our usual bus driver?"
"He's our usual bus driver," a kid yells from the middle of the bus. "Are you gonna sit down? You're gonna make us late!"
"C'mon, Amanda, move!" Kylie pushes me forward and I almost fall into the seat behind the driver. I stare at the back of his head the whole ride, wondering what this means. How could she not be here? Why do the other kids think this is our regular guy? I scoot over when Stephanie gets on, and tune out her gymnastics tryouts chatter.
I practically tackle Leo when I see him in the hall. Stephanie and Ruby look on in surprise, but I don't stop. "It's her!" I shout. "It's Angelina!"
"What's Angelina?"
"She wasn't my bus driver this morning!"
He clutches my arm. "What? Are you serious?"
Stephanie puts her hands on her hips. "You guys don't talk for a year, and when you do, you don't make any sense!"
I keep talking. "It was some young guy. No one even knew who Angelina was!"
Leo shakes his head in amazement. "And it's not like she's easy to forget."
"I know! So what does this mean?"
"It means we have to go back to the Historical Society today. Same plan as before."
"Okay, got it."
A crowd has started to form. Leo hurries into the classroom while I face a very confused Stephanie.
"What was that all about?" she asks.
I bend down, scoop up the green-apple lollipop, and present it to her. "I'll tell you tomorrow, okay?"
"This is huge! You want me to wait till tomorrow?"
"It's my birthday," I remind her. "Shouldn't you have to do what I say?"
"Fine!" she says, turning on her heel. "But I'm calling you first thing tomorrow morning!"
"No problem," I say, smiling to myself. No problem at all.

• • • • • • • • • • •

I'm standing at a safe distance when Bee Boy bursts through the door, right on schedule. Before he can say a word, I shove my periodic table into his hand. "What . . . what's this?" he asks between sniffles. "Who're you?"
"You don't know me, but I have a feeling you might need that. It's a drawing of the periodic table. I actually learned a lot of stuff while making it. Did you know that helium is only found on the sun and lead comes from asteroids?"
He unfolds the paper and looks up in surprise. "How did you know I needed this?"
"Call it a hunch," I say.
He examines my work, a pleased expression on his face. "Um, not to be ungrateful or anything, but did you have to use a purple pen? It's a little, um, girly."
Mr. Collins opens the door before I can defend my use of color. I quickly turn to a nearby locker, and twist the lock like it's my own.
"Have you collected yourself?" he asks.
"I . . . I found it!" the boy replies, holding up the paper. He hurries back into his class with a grateful nod in my direction. I am flooded with a sense of accomplishment. I did it! But as good as it feels to have been able to help this kid, I doubt this is the reason Leo and I are in this situation. I look at my watch. Three more hours until we get some REAL answers.

• • • • • • • • • • •

As soon as Mrs. Fitzpatrick is safely inside the dress shop, we run up to the door of the Historical Society. I try to turn the knob, but it won't budge. We both lean out shoulders against it, but nothing happens. "Look!" Leo is pointing to a sign on the door that says CLOSED FRIDAYS.
"But that's not possible!" I cry.
"You're right," Leo says, leaning back against the locked door. "There's something going on here."
For the first time since I knew I wasn't alone in this, a feeling of dread and hopelessness comes over me. It almost knocks me over.
"Are you okay?" Leo says, holding on to my arm. "You look like you're going to faint or something."
I slide down onto the sidewalk, and Leo joins me, our backs against the door. "It's just, I don't know. I feel like she was our last hope."
"I know what you mean."
"And what if she was lying? Maybe that journal didn't really burn in a fire, and she just wants to keep it from us?"
Leo doesn't answer. Then he jumps up and says, "C'mon."
"Where are we going?" I stand up and hurry after him. He ducks around the side of the old house and into the alley separating it from the dress shop next door. "Leo, wait. What are you doing?"
He keeps going. "We're going to get that journal."
"How? It's closed!"
"Like this," he says, pointing to a window in the back of the house. I glance around us, but no one is nearby. Trees and bushes make things pretty private. Still, there's a tiny parking lot back here, and at any minute someone could pull in. Leo reaches up and pushes up on the window. I had totally expected it to be locked, but it slides up smoothly. "Ready?" He laces his hands together and bends down for me to step on his hands.
"Me? I have to go in first?"
He looks up at me. "Would you rather give me the boost?"
I shake my head. I'm not that strong. With one last glance around me, I put my hands on his shoulders for balance, and step up. He practically catapults me through the window. It's a good thing there wasn't any furniture on the other side or I definitely would have broken it. As it was, the floor could have been a little softer. I'm gonna have bruises for sure. I brush myself off and lean out the window. Leo is jumping and trying to grab onto the ledge. His hands keep slipping off. I watch his efforts for a few minutes, then call down, "Um, Leo? How about I go open the front door and let you in?"
"Oh, good idea!"
A minute later we start searching the place. I open all the drawers — nightstands, desks, file cabinets. Leo checks the bookshelves and the back room. He even opens the mini-fridge but only finds a half-eaten salami sandwich. He comes back out, his hair a mess from sticking his head under the rugs. I'm in the process of checking the drawers of his great-great-grandfather's desk.
"Nothing, huh?" he asks, joining me at the desk.
I shake my head. "It's empty." But when I go to close the the bottom drawer. it doesn't line up evenly with the rest. I push on it with all my strength, but it still doesn't close all the way. This isn't good. Angelina's bound to notice. I wiggle it around, thinking maybe it's caught on something. Hey, maybe it's CAUGHT ON SOMETHING.
"I'm gonna try taking it all the way out instead," I tell Leo excitedly. "I think something's jammed back there!" I pull it as far as it will go, but it won't come all the way out.
"I have an idea," Leo says. I step away. Leo pulls on the drawer above mine and it slides out easily. Now we can easily reach behind the bottom one!
"You can do the honors," Leo says.
I take a deep breath and stick my hand down there. At first all I feel is a thick layer of dust. Then my fingers land on something smooth. I feel around until I find edges that I can grab.
"What is it? What is it?" Leo is bouncing around like a little kid.
I brush off the dust and find myself holding a small black notepad.
"Is it the founder's journal?" he shouts, then covers his mouth with his hands.
Able to read the words on the cover now, I slowly shake my head. "Even better, it's your great-great-grandfather's journal!"