Handstands Down The Hallway

Chapter 5, Adopted Strawberries

Another week went by as we were entering August, and we'd done so many things in a week. Snorkling, trying to surf, pretnding to be punk rockers and berry picking at her aunt's  farm. It was while we were picking berries when I found out something else about Kreea.

"This is my aunt's farm ya know." She had said, for the hundredth time.

"I know!" I said more laughing than being upset.

"I'm sorry, it's just really cool to meet her in person." She sighed.

I gave her a quizzical look, I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Well I've talked to her on the phone, but you have to remember. I used to live in Canada, so for awhile I didn't even know I had an aunt, let alone met her in person." She explained, filling up her fourth basket.

I nodded then thought over for a second. "Wait, what? Didn't your parents ever mention you'd had an aunt?" I said, once again, confused. As I found I often was these days.

"Well, they didn't know either. She contacted me not long after my parents posted, in their website, we were moving here. Then they all did background checks, and turns out she really is my aunt!"

"Okay, you've officially lost me." I put my hands up in defeat.

"Oh. I thought you knew, Johnathan, I'm adopted."

Yeah and so that's how I figured out. At the time we'd been called back to turn our berries into jam, and I hadn't had a chance to ask her about the adoption thing since. Now was my chance. We were walking around, she was eating her fourth free croissant that week, and I was just admiring her. Strong, optimistic, light-hearted, all great qualities. Now throw on 'em on a girl who's dying and knows it, that is amazing. She keeps on chugging even though she is aware she won't be around much longer. But at the same time as all this admiring, I was frowning. Thom, the bakers seventeen-year-old son, was the one giving her all this stuff and I didn't like it. Thom, aside from being a jerk to women, is a... I don't know! Frank says my problem with Thom isn't Thom, it's me.

"You can't give her baked goods and sweets like it's going out of style. You aren't nearly a foot taller than her, only a seven inches taller. You aren't tanned, or swooned over by as many chicks. You are, however, jealous." But Frank is crazy, or that's what I keep telling myself.

"So, adopted..." I started.

"Ah, you want to know more, I see. Mr. nosy has joined the convo." She said. Her newest thing was "jazzing up" her sentences, as you could probably tell by her sentence.

"Well, when I was three I was taken from my mom and put into foster care. I was taken from her because she couldn't provide me with anythin' but booze or cigars. After that I lived with a wonderful foster family for two years before I was adopted by Sylvia and Mark. They adopted me because they thought he was incapable of having babies. Well, they have Eliza and Gavin to disprove that theory, don't they?" She said with all seriousness. No jazzing it up, but no tears either.

"Was it hard meeting your aunt?" I asked.

She nodded, "I kept thinking 'where were you when I was a baby?' But she lived here, 'n' had no idea about me until she heard I was taken from my mom. Then by the time she figured out where I was taken to, I'd been adopted. And of course that's personal info, not to be given out. I was glad to have you there for support, you are amazing." She sounded serious, was she? Was she joking? What does she mean? 

"No, Fearless-Kreea, you are amazing." I said slipping my arm around her shoulder. She smiled as we headed in the direction of our street.

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The next day I worked up the courage to consult Kyle on how to ask a girl out. I'd been up all night wrestling with whether or not I liked Kreea, and I decided I should find out. I'll ask her out and if things go badly then we can revert to being friends. It shouldn't be too hard, right? Kyle's advice was to approach her and be all sexy, Frank suggested a note. For some reason I have a feeling I should never go to Kyle for dating advice again. Ever again. I had written a note and had it in my pocket. Standing on her front porch I raise my hand to knock on the door when it opens.

"Johnny!" Squeals Eliza, hugging my legs.

"Hey How's it goin'? Is your sister home?"I asked, simultaneously ruffling her hair and high- fiving Gavin.

"Good, and she's upstairs writting a letter all dreamily-like. Dude, I think it's about you!" Whispered Gavin.

Eliza nodded, "You should do one of the following: Prepare yourself, leave, duck and cover or enjoy it. It's up tp you."

I couldn't help but laugh, still I was blushing. I mean, she's only eight I shouldn't expect her to know about relationships but it was embarrasing.

"So is your cutie of a sister at home?" Asked Gavin, which was followed by Eliza nudging him quite hard. 

I nodded and sent them over. I shook my head at the two of them, then I proceded with my mission. I walked up the stairs and saw, this time, an open door. Through the door I saw Kreea lying on her stomach, feet swinging up in the air, and writing something. She was humming some popular song I hadn't heard in awhile, and she still hadn't noticed me. Her humming had turned to "la la las" and I figured she didn't really want anyone hearing it. She was good at singing but I always thought singing infront of someone was scary. I knocked on the door frame.

"Come in, hey do we have any-" She began before looking up. "Oh hi, Johnathan!" She began frantically piling her papers and shoving them under her bed, except one.

"What was that all about?" I asked, although Gavin had given me a pretty good idea.

"Nothing, yet." She replied. "Oh, except this." She handed me the paper she hadn't hidden and my spirits rose. Maybe she had a similar idea as I did, maybe this was her note to me! I looked at the paper, it read:

"What we/I need to do! Ya know, before all that bad stuff kicks in." I looked up.

"Nice list name. It couldn't just be 'bucket-list'" I said

"No, too cliché. Oh, just read it!"

I looked at her list again.

1. Go to school in the fall. 

That seemed weird until I remembered, after finding out about her leukemia they wanted to homeschool her.

2. Go to at least one dance in a tux.

Not surprising.

3. Raise an interesting pet.

Interesting, no pun intended.

4. Keep a blog.

Okay, what happened to originality?

5. Spend all my money in february.

I guess for fun and because she's dying.

7. Become a cheerleader.

While that was really common on a girl's list of things to do, I could totally see Kreea being happy and shouty and peppy all while dancing and doing flips. It seemed... Her style.

8. Fake my death.

I better be in the know on that one.

9. Be a reporter.

"Cool." I said.

"I'll add to it as I go along" She said putting away the list, "I'll text you when I add or remove something."

I didn't give her the note, and I won't. Not until I figure out what those papers were for.