The Swap

Chapter 5 Ellie

My mom drives out of the Sportsplex and I sit in the front next to her and pretend everything is totally normal and totally fine as I listen to her questions.

"How were tryouts, honey?"

"Did you have fun?"

"Hey, what do you think of sushi takeout dor dinner?"

The thing is, there is a big lump in my throat and it's hard to answer because the minute I try to talk, I know my voice is going to give it away. So I sort of nod and shrug my shoulders and look out the window. I manage to hold it together until the second we turn into our driveway.

"Sweetheart," my mom starts, and I feel the tears building up. "What's going on?"

I open up my mouth to answer but instead of words only sobs spill out.

She turns toward me. "Oh, honey. Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen at tryouts?"

'No!" I tell her, but now I'm crying so hard she can barely understand me.

"Are you having trouble with ur friends?"

"Noooooo!" I lie again, and shake my head. "I'm okay, I'm fine," I sob.

"Oh, Ellie, honey, it doesn't sound like you're fine." My mom takes a deep breath, reaches over, and with her hand moves the hair out of my eyes. "Did someone say something to you?"

"No just-" I stop for a second. I'm so embarrassed. I try to take a breath, but....yeah, I just burst into tears all over again. I get out of the car and shut the door and start walking toward the house.

"Ellie," my mom calls after me.

I turn around and shout, "It's none of your business!"

Talking to my mom this way doesn't make me feel better at all. I go upstairs to my bedroom and, with all my sweaty soccer clothes on, crawl under my covers and bury my in my pillow and cry untill the pillow is wet and my nose is running. Then, finally, I sleep.

When I wake up I look in the mirror on the back of my door. My eyes are all puffy and I have the worst headache. My hair is messy and wavy, and my stupid freckles are still there. I flop back onto my bed and stare up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers that are still plastered all over my ceiling from when I was a baby. Can you make a wish on plastic stickers? I do. I wish I could be someone else, like, confident and strong, and not so worried about what everyone thinks all the time. But who wishes on dumb stickers?

I guess I do.

At the same exact moment I make my pathetic sticker wishes, there's a knock at my door.

"Ellie, honey?"

It's my mom.

I don't answer.

I don't even know what to say.

"Ellie, are you sleeping?"

"No," I say. My voice is muffled, though, because I am talking into the pillow.

She opens the door. "Ellie, sweetheart, what is the matter?"

My mom sits down on my bed right beside me. I feel her hand on my back. "We need to talk. Something happened and you have school tomorrow and you don't want to go to school in this state, right?"

"I don't want to say," I start. "I don't want to say because I know when I tell you, you're just going to tell me I'm stupid."

"Oh, sweetheart, I would never tell you you're stupid. You know that."