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double or nothing on a movie after dinner?”

A movie? She definitely wanted to make this a date. “Sure,” I said, still in shock, “but how are…”

“Selfie!” Amanda pulled out her phone and pointing it at us. She leaned in close and, just before taking the picture, planted a kiss on my cheek, which instantly grew hot. “Ooh, that’s a good one. I think you can definitely submit this one under embarrassed.” She held the phone out to me. “What do you think?” Indeed, there was no mistaking my pained expression and the red hue to my cheeks. But Amanda had made me feel that way. Hadn’t she?

Not in her mind. She took my hand, and said, “Ooh, I’m so excited. There’s this new Japanese movie playing at the arts cinema not far from the Italian place. You keep looking for people to photograph, I’ll check out show times.”

* * *

“So how do you think you’ve changed from all of this work with Mr. Griffin?” Amanda asked.

I held Amanda’s hand as we walked through the rapidly-filling parking lot. The two of us had spent more and more time together over the last few weeks until hardly a day went by when we were apart. I thought over her question.

“At the start of the year, I felt very much alone. Like it was me versus the world.”

“Did you ever think back then that you’d be strolling with a serious babe on your arm?” She squeezed my hand.

I laughed. Amanda, a babe?

“You think reading your cards helped you open up to other people?”

“Yes, but only little by little. At first, instead of me versus the world, it became us versus them.”

“Who was the ‘us,’ and who was the ‘them?’”

“The ‘us’ were all the losers: me, Darnell, Megan. The ‘them’ were all of the beautiful, popular people.”

“I certainly know where I would have fallen.” She threw back her hair like a movie star.

“You would have been Queen of the Losers.”

“Oh good, I’ve always wanted to be royalty. You think they would have given me a crown with a jewel-encrusted L.”

“Of course, but the L would be written in ASCII.”

“No, I’m the Queen of the Losers, not Queen of the Geeks. It should be written in Elvish.”

“Perfect.”

“So what happened then?” she asked.

“Christy’s accident. That was the first thing. Interviewing Monica Grey sealed it.”

“Sealed what?”

“The realization that everyone struggles. All this time I kept thinking, ‘poor me,’ meanwhile, even the people I thought had it together were also flailing—they just hid it better.”

“So what?”

“What do you mean, so what?”

“I mean, how does that revelation change your life? Why should it matter to you that other people struggle too?”

Why should it matter? “It’s like everything suddenly flipped around. I used to think that no one cared about my problems. Now I see they’re suffering from the exact same issues. They might mask them differently, but they don’t know how to handle them any more than I do. Rather than seeing myself as an oddball, I realized I actually have something to give.”

Amanda weaved her fingers into mine. “There’s one thing you’ve never told me.”

“What’s that?”

“You told me about the moments that define a lifetime, about Darnell going through his after Thanksgiving, Christy hers after the accident, and Jarod his when deciding not to go to college. Don’t tell me you went through all this without one of your own. When was it?”

When was my moment? So many flashed through my mind. Sitting on the floor of the faculty bathroom with Mr. Griffin, baking brownies with Megan on New Year’s Eve, visiting Christy after her accident, sitting in the cafe across from Monica, sitting on the roof with Dad; yet, none of those seemed right. Was it possible I didn’t have a moment?

Then inspiration struck. Why couldn’t I create my own moment? Why couldn’t I take any moment and imbue it with all of the lessons learned over the past few months?

“This,” I finally said, “this is my moment.”

Amanda squeezed my hand. “What’s so special about this moment?”

“Here I am walking with the Queen of the Losers, and I couldn’t be happier. For the first time, I’m allowing myself to love and to be loved. It all stems from finally loving myself.”

Amanda wrapped her arms around my neck and stared into my eyes. “If this moment is going to define your entire lifetime, is there anything else your Queen can do to make it more memorable?”

“Yes.” We now stood at the entrance to the swim stadium at State College, where the high school championship was about to begin. Christy’s lap times were still not as fast as they had been before the accident but were good enough for her to swim third on the 4 x 100 relay team. The team’s hopes largely rested now on Amanda, their new anchor. “Go in there and kick some ass.”

Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue

Jarod walked into class and handed me an envelope. “I printed this up with you in mind,” he said.

“What is it?” I asked.

“That is a genuine party invitation, just for you.”

I laughed easily. “Thanks, Jarod, but you were right all those months ago. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself at one of your parties. I’d be out of place. I appreciate the invite though.”

“Sorry, Kelvin, but you’re coming to this one. I insist. You can bring your girlfriend too if you like.”

“You haven’t met Amanda, but trust me, she would be even more out of place,” I said. “Besides, we don’t share the love of parties that you and your girlfriend do. We prefer spending time together just the two of us.”

“Girlfriend?” Jarod said. “I have no girlfriend.”

Christy’s eyes narrowed on him, then quick as a bolt she grabbed the invitation out of my hand, tore it open, and read. “You’re engaged!” Christy pulled Jarod into a bear hug.

“I’ve got invites for everyone,” Jarod said, once Christy released him. “Including you, Mr. Griffin. I couldn’t have done it without this class.”

“Why couldn’t you?” I asked.

“I guess it’s more accurate to say I wouldn’t have. I was so stressed about how I would provide for myself that I couldn’t handle the idea of providing for a family. Anyway, we’re going to have a small party to celebrate next Saturday night, and then get married at the end of the summer.”

“Wow,” Christy said, “that’s fast.”

“Perhaps, but now that I feel more ownership over my life, I see no reason to wait.”

“Congratulations, Jarod,” Mr. Griffin said. “In further news, today is May 1, meaning that Christy’s deadline to get a college scholarship passed yesterday. Any update for us?”

“I just got my fourth scholarship offer.”

“Another small school wanting to develop its program?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“Not this time. Coach Dana took me back to State College to meet with Coach Jan, who’s apparently kept a pretty close eye on us this year.”

“So she made you an offer?”

“A full ride.” Christy grinned ear-to-ear. “Tuition, room, board, and even a stipend for books.”

“Any idea what tipped the scales in your favor?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“Well, Coach Dana’s been going to bat for me like crazy with her old team. But I think the thing that sealed it was the high school championship, specifically my speech after we won. Coach Jan said that when I gave the trophy away to Coach Silver’s daughter, she saw I had the heart and selflessness she looks for in her athletes.”

“So why’d she wait so long to extend the offer?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“She wanted to be sure I could make a full recovery. It’s a good thing I didn’t give up on my training after the championship because she swam me hard yesterday. Once she was satisfied that I was on track, she extended the offer, and I took it, right on the spot.”

Darnell opened the door, dragging a cooler behind him. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, “but I couldn’t fit this in my locker, so I had to run out to the parking lot.” “What’s this, Darnell?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“Christy told me the news last night, so I brought in a little meal to celebrate. That’s OK, isn’t it Mr. Griffin?”

“Of course. Celebrating our victories is a vital tool for building momentum. Is that okra?”

“Yep, okra, sweet potatoes, collard greens, and black-eyed peas.”

“That’s some switch from Christmas,” Christy said.

“Yep, and I owe it all to you.”

“What did I do?” Christy asked.

“When you cooked us a healthy meal, I figured you must know something about nutrition, but later when I’d ask you questions, you never knew the answers.”

“I just cooked the way my mom and my grandmother do.”

“Exactly. Your ancestors long ago figured out a healthy balance of foods, and you just did what they did. That’s called a food culture, and your family brought it with you to America. My ancestors came here as slaves—they had no food culture. Or so I thought.”

“So what, they built one here?” Christy asked.

“Believe it or not, they brought seeds with them from Africa.”

“So you’re saying the way black people eat in America has a history that goes back to Africa?” Christy asked.

“No, the way we used to eat. Some still do, like my great aunt. She gave me the okra recipe. But most eat horribly, like my folks do. The more I learn, the more concerned I’m getting for my family—almost all of us are obese.” Darnell may have included himself in that description, but it was becoming more and more of a stretch to call him obese. He hadn’t shared his actual weight in months, but between his smoothies and working out, he could have passed for a linebacker.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“Actually, I’ve decided to take next year off and travel to Africa. There’s a chef in Kenya I’m going to study under.”

“Wow, so you’re not coming with me to State?” Christy asked.

“Not immediately at least. Admissions is allowing me to defer for the year, and that keeps my options open, but I don’t know yet if I’ll go to college. Let’s see how the year unfolds.”

“Well, at least you’ve got a guaranteed place at State,” Jarod said, “so you can coast right through the end of school.”

“Is that what you’re planning on doing, Jarod?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“Of course. Now that I’ve ruled out college, all I need are passing grades to graduate. I see no need to do more than the minimum amount of work necessary to get those.”

“I’d certainly hoped that after all the work we’ve done together that you’ll do more than just the minimum,” Mr. Griffin said. “After all, you were the one who asked to be pushed harder.”

“Whoa, I wasn’t referring to this class. I’m still going 100% on all my cards. And it’s not like I’m being lazy. All that time I’m saving by not studying is going right into The Lawn Ranger. I was just referring to final exams.”

“Does that include your trigonometry final, Jarod?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“Trig final?” Darnell said. “You can’t seriously expect us to take a trig final, can you Mr. Griffin?”

“Why not? This is a trig class after all. Darnell, you yourself made sure I put teaching you all trigonometry on my Outcome Card for this class.”

“But we haven’t learned any math this year,” Darnell protested.

“And finals are less than six weeks away,” Christy added. “What trig could you possibly test us on?”

“Actually, Mrs. Northrup and I agreed to give the same final exam to the entire grade.”

“You

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