Letters

Lots of Research and Wholehearted Embarrassment

When I got in my room I decided to do some research. The first thing I would try to do was find out what hospital Charlotte would most likely have stayed in towards the end of her life. I opened my computer and started by googling hospitals that treat ALS in Maryland. After doing a little bit of poking around I found one called the Peninsula Regional Medical Center that was about fifteen minutes away from where I lived. It was one of the biggest hospitals around; I saw it whenever I was driving to school. That would be the most likely place that she would have gone to get treatments, and probably that was where the book had come from.

After doing even more research on the Peninsula Regional Medical Center's website, I managed to find a designated ALS page that talked about the ALS Clinic and support group. That's when I knew I had scored big. There was no guarantee that Charlotte had gone to the support group, but maybe someone who knew her did or still does. The even better part was that it was open to the public, which meant that with just a phone call, I could go. It met on the second Thursday of every month, so the next meeting would be not this Friday or the next, but the Friday after that. I had roughly three weeks to find a way to get myself there and a plausible excuse for why I wanted to go. My research was interrupted by the arrival of Sadie who had just some home from soccer practice.

"Zeke! Dinner!" my mom called from down in the kitchen.

"Coming!" I shouted back, bookmarking the website so I could find it later, and closing the laptop. When I got downstairs my dad was already sitting down next to Sadie. He didn't look much like me either, he had light brown colored hair that was flecked with grey, and sharp blue eyes. I was the only one in my family with dark brown hair and brown eyes. I sat down across from him, and my mom followed me in carrying plates of spaghetti. I happily dug in, while she chatted with my dad about how his day was and comparing notes about how they thought the new washing machine was working. After a while I zoned out, thinking about how I was going to get myself to the ALS support group meeting.

My mom's voice jolted me back into my thoughts a couple minutes later. "Zeke! Did you hear my question?" I shook my head.

"No, sorry. What's the matter?" I asked taking a sip of milk.

"Mrs. Schabel mentioned Katherine going to homecoming next week. What are you doing about that?" Immediately I almost chocked on my milk and started coughing. I had been so wrapped up in the mystery of the letter I had completely forgotten about that. Her mention of it sent me right back into the misery of Mia, football, and Bryce.

"Um...I...um..." I could feel my face getting red as I struggled to come up with something to say. "It's kind of a big thing for the football players," I struggled on. "So there was...this girl I wanted to ask." There was a moment of silence, then all at once everyone started laughing. This only made my mood fouler.

"Your face!" Sadie wheezed in between laughs. "Was so great!" I sat back in my chair crossing my arms over my chest in irritation.

"Guys stop laughing!" my mom said, trying to stop laughing herself. "It's not funny!" My dad was laughing so hard he couldn't even talk. Could they try to be sympathetic?

"Okay, okay, sorry Zeke," my dad replied after a minute when he could finally stop laughing. "It was just that your face was really funny. Who are you asking?"

For a second I contemplated telling them it didn't matter and leaving the table, but decided against it. My parents would have to learn eventually and I might as well get over it.

"Are you done taking pleasure in my wholehearted embarrassment?" I snapped. Both my parents nodded. Sadie was still trying to get herself under control. "Her name's Mia. We have math class together and she plays field hockey."

My mom nodded encouragingly. "She sounds nice. Have you asked her yet?" I squirmed in my chair, taking a great interest in my spaghetti.

"No not really." I could tell my dad was trying very hard not to laugh again. I heard a thump and I knew my mom had kicked him under the table. He recovered.

"The first time is always the worst, but it's not as bad as you might think. Trust me." I flushed. Could this get any more awkward? Now my dad was giving me girl advice!

"Thanks dad," I muttered, trying to stop my face from flaming. Finally Sadie couldn't hold back anymore.

"Zeke had a girlfriend! Zeke has a girlfriend!" This caused me to flush even more, as my dad tried not to snort into his milk.

"Aren't you a little old for that?" I growled angrily.

"I'll never be to old to taunt my brother about his hopeless crushes," she responded, winking sarcastically. My irritation boiled over.

"You stupid little sh-," I started, standing up. This was when my mom felt the need to intervene.

"Sadie and Zeke, stop!" She shouted. "Sadie don't antagonize your brother! And Zeke don't call your sister names! Let's change the topic to something a little nicer. Sadie how was your history test?"

For the rest of dinner I zoned out, picking at my spaghetti uselessly. The idea of what I was going to do tomorrow had made my appetite disappear completely. No matter what Bryce said, I thought Mia was way out of my league. On top of that she really made me nervous and I could hardly hold a decent conversation with her. I usually ended up blurting out something random, or babbling, or worse not even having anything to say.

When dinner was done, I cleared my dishes in silence and retreated to my room.

"Zeke?" my mom asked catching me before I was about to leave.

"Yeah?" I asked sullenly. I could tell she was still worried about me after the dinner conversation. Too much had happened today, I was ready to be done.

"Did you get all your homework done?" I shrugged off the question.

"Didn't have any." I knew that was another thing my mom worried about. I never did homework. If I learned that I did have some I would do it in the class before or turn it in late. I got by okay. That was another thing that I had learned from Bryce. Football players don't do homework.

I retreated to my room where I ignored the research, I had had enough drama for one day, and fooled around on my computer for about another hour or so before heading off to bed. I didn't want to think about tomorrow.