Hidden Truths: Chapters 27–46

So after the last bell rings and I see her and Meadow get into Alice’s car, I race to room 112 with lots of nerves and a dozen assorted donuts for the Speak Out! meeting.

I turn off my phone, exhale, and notice a poster of the anatomy of the brain tacked to the wall behind the life-sized skeleton.

I got desperate five minutes ago and may have squeezed out a small request that this meeting goes well, making absolutely clear that all my Dani prayers still have priority.

Then we brainstorm storylines for coverage of the upcoming school election, talk about the different climate-change issues, and decide to host a food drive to help kids in our school and community.

He always wanted me to be more like Geneva and her color-coded notebook. Or Wren, with their stack of library books. Or Liam, with his intricate graphs.

Then I did the deep dive into powers: flight, telekinesis, strength, healing, disguise, shape-shifting, powered armor suits, agility, genius, speed, web shooting.

“But if she agrees, and I totally think she will, she’s going to ask if you’ve talked to Dani and gotten her permission. Remember Ms. Suarez told us that last year she refused to run a story when a writer didn’t get permission from the main source? She’s a stickler for that kind of thing, so you probably want to do that first.”

He’s got curly hair, is super tall, and is wearing black loafers with a silver buckle.

“But we have to get permission from the teacher who runs the club,” Rachel adds.
“This type of activism will look great on your private school application, honey,” her mom says, waving the tennis racket in the air.

“Falcon Hill is a prestigious all-girl private school, and it’s a feeder to Falcon High, which is a feeder to most Ivy League colleges,” her dad says before she can answer.

Turns out after all that, Ms. Suarez isn’t a fan of sharing Dani’s story through Speak Out! Something about school policy barring the school from lobbying against a privately held company.

Turns out after all that, Ms. Suarez isn’t a fan of sharing Dani’s story through Speak Out! Something about school policy barring the school from lobbying against a privately held company.

We do a broader search, and something called the Consumer Product Safety Commission, or CPSC, comes up. Says it’s a government agency that’s about keeping people safe.

Then, in unison, my teammates say, “Happy birthday!”

No big confrontation in the cafeteria. No yelling phone call or angry texts.

“I ran hurdles in college and had big dreams. Then I tore my ACL playing basketball with some friends. That was it. There was no way I could still run hurdles competitively. It just hurt too much. I had a choice: pain or pivot. I chose pivot. Do what I could to help others.”

I look at my empty bangle bracelet and wonder what part of me I’ll find.

“But, full disclosure, there’s a stack of papers on my desk, and I’m behind on everything.”

While you’re too young to officially intern, you’re free to come by the office and pitch in, and I’ll show you around.

“Rachel, you really should have Eric read it.”
Rachel’s face turns crimson.

She has that weekly show and wants to talk to you and your mom about maybe doing a feature on what happened to you this summer.

She said she’d get the facts about the company involved and all the government regulations, but she wants to know my side of things, what I experienced.

“I thought the whole point of the CPSC was to protect the people who use the company’s stuff?”
“It is, but sometimes there are loopholes.”

“Ms. Zhang, we appreciate your coming here today,” Mom says, sitting back down.
“You can call me Jade. I’m neither that old nor that formal yet.”

My eyes snap into laser mode.

Despite contrary findings by the fire investigation, RCarz continues to deny responsibility for the accident.

It’s next to a cranberry bog and makes the best Cape Codder sandwich, with turkey, stuffing, homemade cranberry sauce, and gravy.

On the way home I ask my mom to make one last stop at Lulu’s Gift Emporium, where I pick out a blue Cape Cod sea glass charm for my no-longer-empty bracelet.

As I pass them JJ spews more venomous words.

When I get to class, I’m still thinking about Leo as Ms. Walker’s explaining the etymology of the word lollipop.

He’s not working or on the phone or rummaging through papers on his desk.

She must have dropped it off, because there’s no stamp, just pink stationery with a blue butterfly in the corner.

He said the baseball team had planned a surprise tribute to Dani and they needed me to get her to the game.

“This game is dedicated to a friend of ours who has recently fought and conquered quite an uphill climb. Dani Meyer never gave up. She’s a fighter, a friend, and our teammate. We’re so proud of her.”

I grab popcorn from the concession stand and see Leo walking toward me.