The Do-Over, page 12
“Maybe you should go get her, Lu,” Raquel said, stealing another nervous look at the clock. They had convinced Mom to stay in Lockeford an extra day so she would be there when the Mirror published, and now she was going to miss it. “Or, on second thought, maybe you, Jules. You run faster.”
Lu nearly tripped over Crybaby, who was circling her feet, meowing. She picked him up. “Seriously, Raquel, no one’s going to notice if it posts at 7:02 a.m.”
“I’ll notice!” What was the point of having a schedule if you didn’t stick to it?
Jules yawned and leaned her head on Sylvia’s shoulder.
“She said she’d be here by seven, mija,” Dad said, ruffling Raquel’s hair. “She’ll be here.”
Finally, the back door opened. “Good morning!” Mom’s hair was still dripping from the shower, and she had one of Abuelita’s hand-crocheted blankets wrapped over her shoulders.
Dad winked and went to pour Mom a cup of coffee. Sylvia pulled out the chair nearest the computer. “You sit up front, Andrea. You’re not going to want to miss this.”
Mom sat. “Thank you, I can’t wait.” Then she took Raquel’s hands and squeezed. “So, can we see your big surprise now?”
Raquel looked up at the clock again. “One more minute! Is everyone ready?”
They all sat behind her.
“Should we count down or something?” Jules asked.
“Don’t give her any ideas,” Lu said. “Or we’ll have to do this every Tuesday morning.”
Raquel ignored her. She watched the clock on the computer screen. When it changed to 7:00, she clicked the button that said Publish and let out a long, slow breath as the latest edition of the Manzanita Mirror appeared on-screen.
The heading on top read, “Apart from All This: A Special Edition of the Manzanita Mirror.”
Underneath was an editor’s note.
Instead of writing about our school this week, we decided to write about ourselves. That’s because despite everything that’s happening in the world, we’re still learning and growing. Some of us are even making new friends. And even though we have to stay far apart for now, we are finding ways to come together. This is one of them. We hope you enjoy it!
—Raquel Mendoza, Editor in Chief
The page was filled with stories from their classmates about what they missed most since the big All This had started. What they were looking forward to when it was over. What they would never forget.
Raquel had gotten the idea when she was working in the cherry orchard with Dad. Later that night, she sent one more urgent message to the newspaper club group text: What if we postpone the articles we’ve been working on and make a special edition instead?
She explained her idea then, and when they all agreed, she wrote, Great! We only have three days. Tell everyone you know to send us their stories!
And they had.
Obviously, I miss seeing my friends the most, but I also miss the cafeteria and how on baked potato days, Ms. Lizeth would always save the biggest one for me because she knows it’s my favorite. Since my mom still has to work, my brother came home from college to watch the rest of us during the day. He’s has to study, too, though, so all he has time to make for lunch is instant ramen. I’m so sick of instant ramen.
This might sound weird, but I really miss the sound of our classroom during silent reading time. How it’s so quiet you can hear the clock ticking and the pages turning. You can even hear Mr. Lopez’s pen when he’s grading our assignments! It’s quiet at my house, but it’s not the same.
I can’t wait to have birthday parties again. Mine was supposed to be back in March. We sent the invitations and bought all the decorations and everything. It was going to be neon-themed. Then all this happened, and we had to cancel it. My friends surprised me with a drive-by celebration, though. I never thought that waving at someone from the front lawn could feel like a real party, but it actually did!
I thought I was going to miss orchestra the most. I mean, how can you have an orchestra if no one is allowed to be in the same room together? Then, one day, we all got this email from Mrs. Lawrence, and it said, “Go look on your front porch!” So I did, and you’re never going to believe this, but somehow Mrs. Lawrence had delivered each of us an ukulele from the school music room! I still want to go back to the clarinet, but I think I’ll keep on playing ukulele, even when all this is over.
I don’t even care anymore that we didn’t get to finish the basketball season. Even though I was really mad about it at first because I was a starter this year, and I know we would have made it to the playoffs. I just want to practice with my team again.
Mom and Dad read through the stories. They laughed at some. They smiled sadly at others.
And they hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet.
When she couldn’t stand waiting any longer, Raquel pulled the computer toward her. “You guys are taking too long!” She found the video posted near the bottom of the page.
Sylvia, who was standing behind Dad the whole time, finally sank into her own chair. “Thank you! I thought they’d never get to it.”
Raquel pressed Play.
The first clip was of Alice, in full costume and makeup, singing one of her big songs from Xanadu Jr.
Then came a clip of Nathan Burns, who demonstrated the remote-controlled rover he had been coding for the robotics challenge.
Then Charlie Lam and Maya Copeland, in side-by-side videos shot in their bedrooms, delivering the arguments they had prepared for speech and debate.
“It’s everything we’ve been working on that we never got a chance to show off,” Raquel explained. “Sylvia helped me edit it all together.”
Mom looked over her shoulder at Sylvia and said, “Thank you.” Then she turned back to Raquel. “This is amazing, Kel. You’ve turned all these little pieces into something really special.”
Raquel pointed at the screen. “Look! You’re going to miss it!”
It was Lu, wearing her skating dress and Sylvia’s old Rollerblades, performing her competition program on the patio.
“When did you two do this?” Dad asked.
“Yesterday morning,” Lu said. She got off her chair and twirled in time with her image on the screen. “While you were doing chores in the garden.”
“Well, you’ll have to give an encore performance,” Dad said. “I need to see the live version.”
Lu giggled. “Okay!”
The video faded to black, and Sylvia started clapping.
“Just wait,” Raquel said. “Keep watching.”
The video faded back in on Jules in the vegetable garden, getting ready to sprint between the rows of garlic.
“What’s this?” Sylvia said, leaning forward. “You must have added it after we finished.”
“Just wait,” Lu and Raquel repeated.
Off-screen, Lu’s voice in the video said, “GO!”
The six of them watched Jules take off running and heard Lu whisper, “Up, up, up.” Then Jules leaped. She raised her arms above her head as she sailed forward and dropped them as she landed feetfirst in the dirt.
The next clip came from Raquel’s camera. “Fourteen feet, one inch,” her voice announced.
Sylvia screamed along with the video. She leaned over and threw her arms around Jules’s neck. “Yes! You did it! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
Jules waved her hands. Her eyes widened as the next clip, the last one, came into focus. “Mom! It’s Coach Bradley! Look!”
A woman in a blue warm-up jacket appeared on-screen. There was a case full of trophies behind her.
“Hi, Jules,” she said. “It’s me, Coach Bradley. Your friend Raquel sent me the video of your long jump, and, wow, I can’t tell you how proud I am. As you can see, I’m here in the athletics office. I came back just so I could enter your name in the official record book. Keep practicing, okay? I’ll see you soon.”
Then the video faded out for real.
No one spoke for a moment. Sylvia wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and said, “How did you do that?”
Raquel shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. I remembered the name of the school from that sticker on the back of your car. Then I found the track coach’s email on the school website.”
Lu put her arm around her shoulder. “My sister always pays attention to the important details.”
After that, it was almost time for school to start. Dad helped Mom pack up her car, and Lu went to the pantry to get her a jar of escabeche to take back to Mrs. Moreno and her grandson.
Mom kissed their foreheads and said she’d see them the next weekend.
“Can you bring more Corn Chex?” Raquel said. “I finished the box last night.” They waved goodbye as her car rolled back down the gravel driveway and onto Highway 88.
Raquel still didn’t think it was possible to know exactly the moment everything changed. The situation was always changing. And maybe there was no such thing as do-overs. But there were some moments you wanted to replay frame by frame. Moments that felt bigger than others. Moments that left you happy and hopeful, even if you still weren’t sure what might happen next.
This book isn’t really about a pandemic, but it was written during one. And I will always be grateful to teachers and coaches like Sandra Arana, Kat Butenschoen, Melissa Cash, Romel De Silva, Amie Hanrahan, Ellen Hoffman, Nic Jimenez, Cher Krayer, Keely Milliken, Emily Relph, Monica Richter, Emily Grace Tucker, Maureen Usle, and J’Marie Ventrella who helped us through with such compassion and humor.
Mil gracias to my agent, Jennifer Laughran; to the insightful and extraordinary Tiffany Colón; to the talented Xochitl Cornejo; and to everyone at Scholastic, especially Melissa Schirmer, Stephanie Yang, Taylan Salvati, and Jordin Streeter for the heart and creativity you brought to this book. What an honor to work with you.
And, as always, to David, Alice, and Soledad, thank you for being the best team I’ve ever been on.
Jennifer Torres is the author of Stef Soto, Taco Queen, The Fresh New Face of Griselda, and other books for young readers. She writes stories about home, friendship, and unexpected courage inspired by her Mexican American heritage. Jennifer started her career as a newspaper reporter, and even though she writes fiction now, she hopes her stories still have some truth in them. She lives with her family in Southern California.
Copyright © 2022 by Jennifer Torres
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The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available
First edition, June 2022
Jacket design by Stephanie Yang
Jacket art © 2022 by Xochitl Cornejo
Author photograph by David Siders
e-ISBN 978-1-338-75422-3
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Jennifer Torres, The Do-Over
