• • •
It’s not until the afternoon that I finally get a text from Elliot. As soon as I see it my heart sinks.
Happy Christmas. Hope you had a good one
I stare at the screen. Is that it? The lack of exclamation marks, emoticons, and kisses immediately makes me think that something is very wrong. I have to call him. While the others all watch The Wizard of Oz, I sneak up to Bella’s room and climb into my bunk. Thankfully this time, he picks up.
“Elliot, what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean, what’s wrong?”
“Your text—it was so blunt.”
“Well, maybe if you’d just spent the Christmas from hell with the parents from hell, you’d be feeling pretty blunt too.”
I feel a glimmer of relief that he might just be annoyed at his parents and not me. “Why didn’t you call me back? Or text me?”
There’s a long silence. It’s so long I think we might have lost the connection.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Elliot finally mutters.
“Interrupt what?”
There’s another silence.
“You told me he was just a holiday romance.”
Now it’s my turn to go silent.
“He—I—it’s—I don’t know what it is.”
“You seem pretty clear about it on your blog.”
“No, I don’t. That’s why I blogged about it, because I’m not sure, because I’m confused.”
“So you’d rather talk to thousands of strangers about it than to me?”
“No! It’s just—you’re not here.”
“No—I’m not.”
“Oh, El, please.”
“Look, we’ll talk about it when you get home, all right?”
“All right. Well, I’ll see you next week then.”
“Yes. See you then.”
As I finish the call, my eyes fill with tears. Why, why, why can things never go right? Why, even when something truly amazing happens, does something crappy have to happen too? I’ve never fallen out with Elliot—not even come close to it. And now it feels as if I’m losing him and I don’t even know why. And then a terrible thought occurs to me. What if he doesn’t want to be friends anymore when I get back home? I’ll be miles away from Noah and I’ll have no best friend. I’ll have nobody. I hug my pillow to me and start to cry.
“Don’t be sad,” a squeaky little voice says, making me jump out of my skin. I roll over and see Princess Autumn hovering by the ladder at the end of the bed. Bella appears behind her and climbs up onto my bunk. “Every time you feel sad you should think of three happy things to chase the sad thing away,” she says to me, propping Princess Autumn up next to her. “Noah told me that one time when I got sad about my mom and dad.”
“That’s a great idea,” I say, wiping the tears from my face.
“So go on then,” Bella says, staring at me.
“What?”
“What are three things that make you happy?”
“You,” I say straightaway. “You make me very happy.”
Bella beams at me. “OK, that’s number one. What else?”
“Being here, in this house.”
She nods. “And number three?”
“Noah,” I mumble, my cheeks flushing.
“You make him happy too.”
I look at her. “Really?”
“Oh yes. He was really grumpy last week but ever since he met you he’s been all smiley again.”
“Oh good.” I really want to ask her why he was grumpy but that feels way too inappropriate.
“You make me happy too,” Bella says to me shyly.
“Ah, thank you.”
“And you make Princess Autumn happy, doesn’t she, Princess Autumn?”
Bella picks up the doll. “Oh yes,” she says in a squeaky little voice, waving the doll about. “She makes me very happy—even though she didn’t give me a name.”
I look at Bella and I laugh. Everything will be OK. I’ll sort things out with Elliot as soon as I get home, but for now I have to make the most of my time with Noah—and Bella—and Princess Autumn.
31 December
It’s the People, not the Place
Once, when my family ended up on a day trip to a place called Cow Roast and we realized that, despite its epic name, there wasn’t really anything much there apart from a row of houses, a pub (that was shut), and a petrol station, my dad gave us a really cool piece of advice. He said that it doesn’t matter what a place is like, what matters is the people you see that place with. If they are up for adventure then you can make anywhere fun. We made Cow Roast fun that day—playing hide-and-seek in some nearby woods and meeting an old lady who invited us into her cottage for tea and scones.
Even though New York is one of the least boring places in the world, seeing it with Brooklyn Boy has made it even more exciting. And the weirdest thing is that in the week I’ve been here, I haven’t been to a single tourist attraction. Instead, Brooklyn Boy has been taking me to all of his secret favorite spots. Yesterday, we drove out to a beach in New Jersey and although it was deserted because of the winter weather it was magical. We wrote our names in the sand and drank hot chocolate from flasks and I took some great pictures of a boardwalk (which is an American promenade). And I survived the drive—there and back—without having a panic attack!