scary and overwhelming all at the same time. In a word, it was excellent. Her mom had dropped her off and asked if she wanted help to get inside. Courtney’s answer was a stern “You’ve got to be kidding” look. Mrs. Chetwynde shrugged, gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek, and watched as she walked slowly back to school for the first time in seven months.
When Courtney stepped into the school, it reminded her of when she stepped into the flume. It was like entering a strange and scary new dimension where she didn’t know exactly what to expect. She knew she could handle the physical part. She’d worked too hard on her therapy to worry about that. She also knew that classes would be fine. She looked forward to being back with a real live teacher. What made her nervous was facing her friends. She had no idea how they would treat her.
What happened was… things couldn’t have been better.
Courtney was totally relieved to find that nobody pressed her on the details of what had happened the year before. They all wanted to know about the accident, and how she was feeling, but when it came to the question of why she’d left school in the first place, her friends were cool. It wasn’t like they were avoiding the issue. Just the opposite. They would bring it up, but would say things like, “Glad you’re back to your old self.” And, “We missed you.” And, “If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.” Even some of her rivals from the soccer team went out of their way to wish her well and say they hoped she’d get back up to speed as soon as possible. They told her that since a whole senior class had graduated, they needed her in a bad way. It blew Courtney away. She never expected to be treated so nicely. It wasn’t like anybody felt sorry for her either. They seemed to respect that she was having a tough time, and genuinely wanted her back to her old self. Nobody judged her, or made fun, or snickered behind her back. What she’d feared was that her friends were going to act like kids and not know what to say. What she found instead was that they, like Andy Mitchell, were growing up. It made her realize just how long she had been gone. It made her a little sad, but she couldn’t have wished for a better homecoming. Or schoolcoming. It felt to Courtney like the whole nightmarish experience made her stronger. At one point she had to chuckle when she thought that she had Saint Dane to thank for getting her head back on straight. If he only knew, she thought.
Courtney didn’t see Mark for those first few days. They didn’t share any classes. They didn’t share any friends, either. Other than Bobby. She wanted to see him though, if only to show him that she was almost back to normal. By Wednesday she still hadn’t seen him, and knew that he was leaving for Orlando that evening. So rather than go home after school, she had her mom drop her off at Mark’s house to say hi and wish him good luck at the competition.
What she ran into instead was… disaster.
She rang the doorbell. There was no answer at first. She was about to leave when the door was suddenly thrown open. Mrs. Dimond stood there, looking stressed.
“Courtney!” she exclaimed. “You look so good!” Mrs. Dimond threw her arms around Courtney and gave her a big hug. “But I can’t talk now, we’re in the middle of a crisis.”
“What’s going on?” Courtney asked.
“Don’t ask,” she said. “No, go ask Mark. He’s In the living room with Andy Mitchell.” Mrs. Dimond leaned into Courtney and whispered, “Is that guy a little, I don’t know, greasy?”
Courtney chuckled and said, “No, he’s a lot greasy.”
“Good,” Mrs. Dimond said. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so. Go talk to them.”
Mrs. Dimond left her and hurried up the stairs. Courtney saw that at the foot of the stairs were all their suitcases, packed and ready to go. She walked into the living room to see Mark sitting on the sofa looking nervous, while Andy paced.
“Hey, ready to go?” Courtney asked.
Mitchell looked up, spotted Courtney, and his shoulders fell. “Don’t you go giving me a hard time,” he said anxiously. “I’m having a bad enough day as it is.”
“Why? What’s going on?” Courtney asked as she sat in an easy chair. She needed to sit down. Though she was feeling better, the three days she’d spent at school had taken a lot out of her.
Mark said, “The sprinkler in Andy’s uncle’s florist shop just exploded.”
“It didn’t explode,” Andy said. “He must have been smokin’. I know that guy. He set it off. Idiot.”
“Whatever,” Mark said. “Andy came over, we were all set to leave, and then he got the call.”
“Five minutes from a clean getaway,” Andy lamented.
Mark added,” His uncle says the place is a wreck.”
“There was a flood and it blew out the heat,” Andy said angrily. “Just his luck the weather turned frigid last night. The place is turning into a skating rink.”
“So what does that mean for you?” Courtney asked.
“Oh, not much,” Andy answered sarcastically. “Only that I can’t go to Orlando! Months of work, all for nothin’. Unbelievable!”
“Why can’t you go?” Courtney asked.
“Because I gotta help him clean up the mess!” Andy cried. “He just took delivery of all his Christmas flowers. If we don’t get them out of there and over to his house like, right now, they’ll die and his whole season will be gone, which means I’m out of a job. I gotta go there right now and get to work.”
“It’s not fair,” Mark said. “We’ve worked so hard for this.”
“Is there a later flight?” Courtney asked.
“Yeah, but there’s too much work to do,” Andy said, sounding defeated. “I’d never get it done and make it down to the airport in time.”
Mark said, “I told you I’d stay and help. With extra help you might still make the later flight.”
“Or I might not, and then you’d be stuck too,” Andy said.
Mr. Dimond entered the room holding a piece of paper. “I just called the airline,” he announced, referring to the paper. “Good news, bad news. There’s a later flight tonight, and one first thing in the morning. If worse comes to worst, you can make the flight tomorrow and still be at the convention center in time for the presentation.”
“Seriously?” Andy asked, gaining hope. “What’s the bad news?”
“It’ll cost two hundred bucks a ticket to make the change” was the answer.
“Ouch,” Mark said. “That’s a lot of cash.”
“Eight hundred bucks for all of you,” Courtney pointed out.
“I can do the math,” Mitchell snapped.
“Here’s my suggestion,” Mr. Dimond said. “Mrs. Dimond and I will go down on the flight as scheduled. We’re there to chap-erone, but it’s a vacation for us too. I’d just as soon not miss any of it. Sorry, Andy.”
“No problem,” Andy said.
“But if Mark wants to stay, he can help you clean up the shop and maybe you can both make it to the airport for the later flight. If not, I can book you on the flight tomorrow and you’ll come down then. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” Andy said. “Except for the part about the extra two hundred bucks to change my ticket. I ain’t got that kind of cash. If I did I wouldn’t be working for my idiot uncle.”
“I’ll spring for it,” Mr. Dimond said. “For both of you.”
“Are you serious?” Andy said.
“Really, Dad?” Mark asked.
“Hey, how often do I get to see a couple of geniuses change the world?” Mr. Dimond said. “What do you say?”
Andy looked at Mark. Mark shrugged and said, “Let’s go save some flowers!”
D. J. MacHale
The Quillan Games
Courtney said, “I’d help but I barely have enough energy to get out of this chair.”
Andy ran over to Mr. Dimond and shook his hand. “Thank you, man. Seriously. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll hurry up,” Mr. Dimond said, laughing.
“Dad, you are the best,” Mark said.
“Don’t tell him that,” Mrs. Dimond said as she entered the living room. “It’ll go right to his head, and I won’t be able to live with him.”
