My Friend Honesty

Chapter Three

“Piper! Wake up! You don’t want to be late for school!” my mom calls up to me. I sit up, and look at the clock. 6:32. I’m going to be late! I think, jumping out of bed. I take a quick shower, then pull on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, too panicked to care about looking good. After slipping into a pair of boots, I rush downstairs and grab a string cheese. Quinn is sitting in the living room watching cartoons and eating Cheerios. When I come down, she turns around.

                “Hi, Piper. Do you feel better?” she greets me.

                “Yeah, I feel great, except that I’m going to be late!” I say as I put my hair into a messy bun.

                Quinn giggles. “You’re a good rhymer.”

                I pause and smile. “Thanks, Quinn.” I looked at my watch. “Now I have to run… or I’ll be late which isn’t fun!”

                “Bye, Piper!” Quinn calls after me as I take the stairs two at a time. I brush my teeth, grab my jacket and my backpack and hop in my mom’s car, where she is waiting. My head aches from all the exercise.

                “Here, honey, I figured your head might hurt,” my mom says and hands me several pills and a bottle of water before I can say a word. I gratefully swallow the pills and slip the rest of the water bottle in my bag.

                My mom pulls out of the garage. “And by the way,” she begins. “Coach Jen called.”

                “And?” I prompt, eager to hear what my coach said.

                “She wanted me to tell you that even though she knows you’re going to want to come to practice, she doesn’t want you to come for a while. She’s worried you’ll hurt yourself even worse.”

                “Oh,” I say and slump in my seat.

                “Piper, she only wants the best for you. You and I both know that if you went to practice you would insist on at least stretching. Then you would claim you were feeling better and hop on the balance beam. And then… well, you could hurt yourself even more,” my mom says, glancing at me in the mirror.

                “I know,” I say, and I do. All I want right now, more than anything, is to be able to participate in gymnastics, but it looks like that won’t be happening anytime soon.

                “And think of it this way,” Mom adds. “Without gymnastics, you’ll have plenty of time to focus on your studies. The doctor says you might have trouble focusing for long periods of time, so try your best in class, and then if you bring home the material,  I can help you at home if you need help.”

                “Okay,” I reply. We pull up to the curb and I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door. Just as I get out, my mom yells, “And remember, Piper, no gymnastics practice!

                The people standing outside the school hear her and turn to look at me. Great. The first day of my life with a concussion and everyone’s staring at me. Just fabulous. I think.

                “And it will go downhill from here, just you wait and see!” Honesty says gleefully. 

                I sigh and walk towards the school. Well, here goes.