“But you guys still did okay, right?”
Greta and Nora exchanged a look, and I felt my stomach sink in a way that had nothing to do with how the car was swaying. “You made it to Nationals again. Right?” They just stared at me, and I started to get a very bad feeling. “Regionals?”
“Knocked out in Regionals,” Nora said, her voice flat. “First round. We lost on a question about how many wives Henry the Eighth had.”
“Six,” I said immediately. “Everyone knows that.”
“Apparently Sarah Rudolph didn’t,” Nora said.
“Oh.” We stopped again, and a heavy, awkward silence settled over the car. I looked down, willing this to be over. I wanted to be off this ride and on solid ground, and not having to confront people who were looking at me like I’d done something wrong. After all, it wasn’tmyfault they’d lost. But the fact they hadn’t even made it through Regionals…Along with nausea, I was feeling the acrid burn of guilt in my stomach. And I didn’t like it.
More than anything, I wished I could have a do-over. I’d go back, we’d go on the non-swinging cars, and I wouldn’t have to have this conversation. I could return to thinking that everything was fine when I left Arizona, like I’d believed fifteen minutes ago.
“You still haven’t said sorry,” Nora snapped, breaking the silence.
“Sorry—for moving?”
“Sorry for the way you left! For costing us Nationals—it wrecked my whole transcript.”
“But I didn’t know you’d lost!”
“Because you never reached out! Because we neverheardfrom you again!” Nora’s voice broke on the last word, and she sat back hard against the car. It sent it swaying, as we rose up in the air again, heading back around, finally, toward the ground.
“Could you not do that?” I asked faintly as we rocked back and forth.
“What—make the car move?” Greta asked, also leaning back against the seat, and setting the car swaying. Suddenly, there was a gleam in her eye that I didn’t like atall. “Does this bother you or something?”
“Oh my god,” I muttered as I stared out the window, trying to find anything that would serve as a steady horizon. My thoughts were whirling and my stomach was clenched, but I knew it wasn’t just the motion sickness. It was everything they’d said, everything that I would have very much preferred not to hear. I was mentally composing a response to Greta and Nora—something about how I couldn’t be expected to be psychic, and that people not knowing facts about the Tudor court wasn’t my fault—when we finally came to a stop.
The cast member opened the door for us to get out, and Nora and Greta gathered their bags, then paused for a moment, looking at me.
“It was nice to meetyou, Bryony,” Nora said pointedly. “Cass, I’d say keep in touch—but we both know you’re not going to do that. So.” She shook her head, then climbed out. Greta followed, and they walked off, neither one of them looking back at me.
You doing okay?” Bryony asked.
“Better,” I said, mostly to the ground. I was sitting on a nearby bench, bent over my knees. When we’d gotten off the ride, Bryony had taken one look at how pale I was and had hustled me over here. Then she’d gone to Angry Dogs to get me a Sprite that she insisted that I drink to settle my stomach.
It had been about ten minutes, and my inner ear was getting back to normal. But my mind was still churning, in a way that I really would have preferred it wasn’t.
I took another sip of the soda, then placed the bottle by my feet and straightened up. “So!” I said, making my voice upbeat and positive. “What should we do now?” I tried to think of things that didn’t involve getting back on a ride…or eating anything. “Um, we could keep trying to find the Mickey ears?”
“Sure,” Bryony said, but she sounded distracted. She glanced back at the ride, circling around and around in its loop. “That was weird, though, right? I mean…we keep running into people you know.”
“Itisweird,” I agreed, glad that we could actually talk about it. “Like, I know there’s a lot of schools here, but I was not expecting it.”
“And everyone—seems to be mad at you?” She put a comedic spin on this, but I could see that her eyes were troubled.
“I’m not happy about it either,” I assured her. I kept my voice light, like I was trying to shake it off, but it wasn’t shaking easily. It wasn’t that I thought that all the people from my previous schools disappeared the second I left. I understood about object permanence, after all. But I really hadn’t let myself think too much about my old friends, the people who’d once meant so much to me—especially Bruce, in Washington.
It was like I’d pushed those memories down into a box and closed the lid firmly after each move, trying not to notice that each time, doing this got harder and harder.
But tonight, actually seeing Greta and Nora—and even Reagan and Zach—was making me feel rattled in a way I was having trouble getting my head around. I just wanted to put it behind me.
“So, you just didn’t say goodbye to them?”
“We moved,” I said, feeling like this seemed to be getting lost in all these conversations. It wasn’t like I was ever choosing to go. I was being yanked along on my dads’ whims. I shook my head, trying to stop this train of thought. It had been a long time since I’d even complained about one of our moves—we were a team, after all. “It’s not like it was my choice.”
Bryony nodded, but I could see that she still looked unsure. “I just…”
