“I’m fine. My phone? Not so much.” I held it up.
“That sucks.”
I pointed to her shirt. “That sucks.”
“Yeah. I think I have another shirt in my car … ” She trailed off and I realized she was searching her brain for my name.
My name did not exist in her brain. I did not hang in any of the circles she did. Not the student council circle or the fancy car circle or the sporty girls with perfect hair one. Definitely not that circle.
“Madeleine. Maddie,” I filled in for her.
“Maddie, did your phone break?” she asked.
I looked down at the phone. “Yes. It’s my own fault for texting and walking. Thousands of people end up in the emergency room every year from text walking, I should know better.”
She laughed, then stopped. “Wait, are you being serious?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I like to learn stupid facts and apparently tell them to innocent people who probably just want to leave.”
Trina laughed again and I wasn’t sure if she was laughing at me or with me. “So, do you need to go to the emergency room?” she asked.
“No. I’m fine. Fine. Thank you for asking.” Now shut up and walk away, I told myself. I waved my broken phone at her and headed off.
I found Blaire in the library working on her laptop.
“Hey, winner,” she said, looking up and giving me a secretive grin.
I sunk into the chair next to her. “I’m so stupid.”
“Actually, you’re super smart. Almost top in your class.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re one percent better.”
“What happened?”
“I bumped into Trina and broke my cell phone and then I acted totally awkward.”
“Oh, you meant socially stupid. Yeah, you are. At least you constantly reaffirm what side of the Popular Fence you belong on.”
I smacked her arm. “Thanks, brat.”
“Well, I’m also one percent ahead of you in that area.”
I smiled and looked at her open laptop. “What are you working on?”
“Ugh. That paper Mrs. Avery assigned.”
My stomach dropped. “Oh no!” I’d meant to work on the paper last night but I’d been so exhausted from all the lottery excitement that I’d fallen asleep with all my lights on. “When is that due again?” I asked frantically.
“Tomorrow,” Blaire said, and I felt relieved. I could write the paper tonight.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Elise. You all in the library?
Before I could even text back she was walking through the double doors.
“You told me not to eat or I’d regret it. Tell me that means you have food for me.”
“Oh, right! Food.” I pointed to the bag on the table. “I’m treating you all to the most delicious food this campus has to offer because, you know … I can now.”
Elise opened the bag and let out a long, happy sigh after taking a big whiff of the contents. “You are my hero.” She took out a sandwich and unwrapped it. “My super-rich hero. Like Batman. Or Tony Stark.”
I laughed.
“Trina broke Maddie’s cell phone,” Blaire said out of nowhere. “I think that proves she’s sinister, like I suspected.”
“What?” I said, pausing in the process of unwrapping my own sandwich. “She did not. I broke it myself. I was text walking. Trina was surprisingly nice about the whole thing. Even with soda dripping down her shirt.”
“You ruined her shirt?” Elise asked. “What kind of shirt? Do you think it was designer? She won’t want you to pay for a new one, will she?”
“It just looked like a regular shirt, I think. It had flowers on it or something.”
Elise’s eyes widened. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter if it was designer. You could afford to buy that now, Batman.”
“Not loving that nickname.”
“But you need one,” Elise said. “I’ll work on it.”
“And no, I don’t think Trina’s going to make me buy her a new shirt,” I added.
“What did she say?” Elise asked.
“She asked if I was okay.”
“Was she with her friends?”
“No, just her.”
Blaire made a face and pretended not to hear anything we’d just said. “Yes, she’s sinister. The villain to your superhero.” She looked at my phone, which I still held. “Don’t text and walk again. You’ll end up in the emergency room next time.”
I laughed and handed her a sandwich. I had the perfect friends for me.
It had been almost a week since I’d found out about my lottery win, but it felt like an entirely new world—especially at home. My parents laughed more than they fought. My brother went to bed at a decent hour and showed his face during the day. And on his face was a smile he hadn’t worn in years. The promise that in his near future he’d be completely debt-free did wonders for his mood. It probably also helped that when I bought myself a new cell phone, I had bought him one as well.
“You’re still going to the zoo today?” my brother asked as I came into the kitchen Saturday morning, my gray work shirt on.
I was still getting used to the sight of Beau wide-awake in the mornings. He was standing by the toaster waiting for a bagel to pop up.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, opening the fridge for orange juice.
“Oh, I don’t know … because you’re a millionaire now and don’t need to earn money.”
The thought had occurred to me, but I wasn’t ready to give up the zoo yet. “I like the zoo,” I explained. “I want to go to the zoo. It’s fun. Besides, it’s the first Saturday in March so the weather is perfect.”
“The weather is pretty perfect on any given Saturday. We live in Southern California.”
“Don’t try to bring me down.”
Beau laughed. “I bet it would take a lot to bring you down these days.”
“True.”
He had his new phone out and was scrolling down the screen.
“What are you doing?”
His eyes lit up. “I’m looking at condos. I think I’m going to move out.”
“Move out? Into a condo?”
“Yeah, you know, moving out is that thing kids often do when they get older and want to start living their own lives.”
“No, yes, I mean that’s a great idea. I just thought you wanted to move into the dorms with your friends. Go back to college.”
“That was before I had money. Now I will go to college while living in an awesome condo. My friends can come to me. This will be the best.”
I smiled and my heart hummed in my chest. My brother was coming back. Who said that money couldn’t buy happiness? I needed to buy that person a thing or two so they’d understand.
When I got to the zoo and found Carol, she gave me my assignment.
“I’m going to have you clean the Farm today,” she said. The Farm was a big red barn surrounded by enclosed pens, where kids could come pet and feed goats, sheep, pigs, and more. It wasn’t my favorite thing to do at the zoo but, as Beau had said, not much could bring me down nowadays.
“Sounds good,” I said, and made my way to the Farm.
The Farm was in the midst of kiddie land. I passed the carousel on my left, its music light and bouncy as it spun a slow circle. On my right was the train ride where I could make out Louis prepping for its first trek around the zoo.
Seth was already at the Farm when I arrived, and I noticed two things right away. One, he held his video camera. Two, it was pointed at Rachel, who apparently was also working the Farm today.
She stood in the rabbit pen holding a handful of rabbit food. Several rabbits were eating from her palm.
“Aw. Cute,” I said.
“Thanks,” Seth responded.
I smiled at him. “I was talking to the rabbits.”
Rachel waved. “Hi, I’m Rachel.”
She didn’t know my nam
e, I realized. “I’m Maddie.”
“And I’m Seth.”
I shook my head and Rachel laughed.
The smell of the pigpens was strong this morning, and I knew the pens needed a good hose down. I’d start there so we didn’t have to smell it all morning.
“You have your camera back. I take it you’re un-grounded,” I said to Seth as I walked past him toward the barn.
He held it up. “I got to choose between my camera and my phone.”
“And you chose your camera?”
He smiled big. “Of course. How else would I film my killer rabbit thriller?” He pointed to the rabbits that surrounded Rachel’s feet. “But don’t worry, I get my phone back at the end of the week for those people who need to be in constant contact with me.” He winked.
My cheeks went hot. “Oh, I wasn’t … I didn’t … That’s good.”
Rachel squealed and lifted one foot. “They’re tickling me. Hurry and get your shot before Carol comes to check on us.”
“Okay, look scared,” Seth said, pointing the camera at her again.
As I slid open the door to the barn, the smell of manure was even stronger. I coughed and covered my nose with the back of my hand, then hooked up the hose.
My plan had been to tell Seth about my lottery win. Outside of my immediate family, I’d decided to only tell my friends. And I considered Seth a friend. But I hadn’t counted on Rachel working with us this morning. The news would have to wait.
I worked for thirty minutes on the pens, spraying the dirt into the drains. Across the way, at the goats, Seth had a shovel and was working, too. Rachel was leaning up against the fence near him, a scraper and bucket in her hand. She said something that made him laugh, then flipped her bucket over and stood on top, her arms moving in big gestures. I hadn’t realized how animated Rachel was before. She was similar to Seth in that way. I wondered if that’s why they got along well.
Seth noticed me watching and I quickly looked down.
“Maddie!” he called out.
I released the handle of the nozzle and the water stopped. “Yeah?”
“Rachel once found a rat in the goat enclosure. What’s the worst thing that you’ve found in the Farm?”
“In the Farm?”
“Or in the whole zoo for that matter. Let’s expand our criteria.”
“Umm … ” I couldn’t think of anything. “Animal poop?”
He laughed and Rachel jumped off her bucket.
I herded the pig behind one of the gates in his pen. He snorted at me as if he objected to this treatment. I knew he just really wanted to play in the water I was spraying. I opened the gate and he came charging into my side and straight into a puddle, using his nose to splash water in the air. I patted his head, then exited his cage, and walked back through the barn and to the outside with Seth and Rachel.
“Okay, my find beats both of yours,” Seth said as the three of us moved on to the duck enclosure. “One time I found dentures.”
“That’s really disgusting,” Rachel said.
“You’d think it would be, but the dirt and hay had dried them out so they seemed more like Halloween teeth.”
“How do you lose dentures?” I asked, grabbing a scrub brush and scraping at some algae on the side of the small duck pool. “I mean, once they fall out, don’t you search for them? I don’t think those things are cheap.”
“I’m guessing it was someone in a wheelchair, sleeping while her grandkids played,” Seth said. “They fell out without anyone noticing and then Grandma got wheeled away. When she woke up and noticed them gone, it was too late; there were too many places to search.”
“That sounds like your next film. The Case of the Missing Dentures.”
He laughed. “What are you trying to say? That’s not the first thing you thought of?”
“That’s the only story that makes sense now.”
“I agree,” Rachel said.
“Speaking of stories, thanks for my awesome birthday poem written on my window,” I said.
He put his hand on his chest. “You’re welcome, although maybe we shouldn’t insult actual poets by calling it a poem.”
“Okay, how about note?”
“Note is better.”
“How did your Lord of the Rings marathon with your brother go?” I asked.
“It was great. I can’t decide if that’s because it was the first, and only, time my mom has let me watch television in a week, or if I really do think those movies are the best things ever created.”
“Probably the first.”
“I love those movies,” Rachel said. “You should’ve invited me to your marathon.”
“You’re right. I should’ve made a party out of it. But I’m grounded.”
Rachel was using the tool in her hand to scrape a piece of chewed-up gum off the railing while Seth shoveled white bird droppings into a bucket.
I looked at the algae-tinted brush I held. “Forget about the worst thing we’ve found at the zoo. That’s an easy topic. What is the best thing you’ve ever found in here?”
Rachel scrunched her lips in thought and Seth dumped another shovelful into the bucket.
“Five pennies,” Seth said.
“Five pennies? How is that good?” I asked.
“It was one right after the other and they were all head-side up.”
“Ah,” I said. “So five times the good luck?”
“Yep. It was my luckiest day ever.”
You should’ve played the lottery, I almost said. But I didn’t say anything, just concentrated on my task.
“Has anything good ever happened to either of you in here?” Seth asked. “I mean, not as good as my five pennies story, obviously, but a close second?”
“I get to see an anteater and her baby nearly every day,” I said. “Nothing tops that.”
“You like the anteater?” Rachel asked.
“She’s my favorite.”
“The anteater isn’t anyone’s favorite,” she said. “Have you seen the thing?”
“See,” Seth said. “Rachel agrees.”
I flicked my dirty brush at both of them. “Don’t try to change me.”
Seth laughed.
Rachel held up a scraper full of gum. “This is my top moment for sure.” She smiled at Seth and he smiled back with his Seth smile. The one he gave to everyone apparently.
I was glad that Rachel had worked with us today. It opened my eyes to a couple things—one, that I didn’t need to tell Seth about my lottery win. We weren’t as close as I thought we were. Two, I had let myself develop a small crush on Seth over the months. Thank goodness it was small because it was easily squashed. A crush was the last thing I needed right now, especially when it was obviously unreciprocated. I had enough craziness going on in my life right now, and I needed to focus back on school.
“And now on to my next favorite thing—cow duty,” I said, leaving the two of them behind in the duck enclosure.
“You all brought socks, right?” Blaire asked as she drove us to the bowling alley in her mom’s minivan. She hated squeezing into the backseat of our “tiny cars” (her words) so she often drove when we went out. And she kind of looked like a mom sitting there behind the wheel in her neat bun and collared shirt. “You don’t want to wear bowling shoes sock-less.”
“We all brought socks,” Elise said with a sigh she only used on her mother … and Blaire. “How many rounds of bowling are we going to play, anyway?” Elise blew a big bubble with her gum and it popped all over her face. She smiled big as she picked stray strands off her nose and mouth.
“As many as Maddie wants to,” Blaire said. “This is her new official birthday celebration, after all.”
“We will play until I get a strike!” I said, putting my fist in the air at my declaration.
“This could be a long night,” Blaire said.
“It will be awesome,” Elise said. “When’s the last time we actually went out? You two never want to do anything.”
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“We always do things,” I said.
“Things that don’t have to do with school?” Elise asked, raising one eyebrow.
“True. We should do more things that don’t have to do with school,” I said. And now that I had the funds, I realized, that was even more possible …
“Rounds?” Blaire asked.
“What?” I asked.
“Is that the right word for it? Is bowling broken into rounds?”
“Frames?” I suggested.
“No.” She tapped the steering wheel. “I think each person’s turn is called a frame. But what is the culmination of all our frames and all our turns together called?”
“Sets?” Elise said. “Or maybe quarters?”
“Quarters is a different sport.” Blaire furrowed her brow like this was the most important question on the SAT. “Maddie, look it up on your fancy new phone.”
“Look it up?”
“Yes. Hurry, before we get there.”
“Are you worried the bowling alley people are going to think we’re stupid?” I asked.
“Yes, actually.”
I laughed but knew she was serious. I got out my phone and opened the browser.
Elise put her hand over her eyes. “Your superhuge phone screen is blinding me.”
“It’s not that big,” I mumbled, searching through the list that came up with my inquiry. “It doesn’t say what a round is called.”
“Did you look up a bowling glossary?” Blaire asked.
“Yes. That’s where I am.” I scrolled down the page and read off some of the words as I went. “Anchor, Back End, Channel … Grandma’s Teeth? There’s a bowling term called Grandma’s Teeth.”
“What does it mean?” Elise asked.
“Something about the way you knock down the pins. I suddenly feel like I don’t know enough about bowling to bowl.”
“Right?” Blaire said.
“Speaking of Grandma’s teeth—”
“You honestly have a story to go along with that?” Blaire interrupted me to ask.
“Yes, I do. Zoo Seth found dentures in the petting pens one time.”
“Gross,” Elise said.
“I know.”
“Zoo Seth, huh?” Elise wiggled her eyebrows at me.