Don't Judge Me Read online

  I couldn’t imagine not wanting to sit on that porch on a warm fall night with some of the best people I’d ever known. But I also wasn’t a thirteen-year-old boy. Who even knows what goes on in their brains.

  The three of them waved as we all got out of the car. Alice, who Tori calls Mimi, reached over and turned off the CD player. “Hello, Wallace Family,” she said. “What a nice surprise.”

  “Wait until you see what I brought to show you,” I said.

  Tori hopped down the steps and ran toward our car while my parents made their way up to the porch to talk to Tori’s moms. “What? What’d you bring?”

  I opened the door to the back seat, the dome light spilling out around us, and carefully moved the box to Tori’s yard. “We found it in the parking lot of Ruby’s. We think someone just didn’t want it anymore. Isn’t that sad?”

  “Wow,” Tori said, her eyes big and round. “If I’d have guessed a hundred times, I never would have guessed that this is what you wanted to show us.” She didn’t seem at all nervous as she reached into the box and gently picked up the tortoise. “Can I show my moms?”

  “Yes, please,” I said. “I’m curious if Jeanie will know what kind it is and what I should feed it.”

  She carried the tortoise carefully with both hands as she went back toward the house. I followed close behind. “Why, that’s a red-footed tortoise,” Jeanie said when Tori handed it to her. “A very popular type for pets because they’re an easy size to handle. People also love how they look. Isn’t he a beauty?”

  “What’s the difference between a turtle and a tortoise?” Tori asked.

  Jeanie responded, “Well, a tortoise is a type of turtle. True turtles mostly live in water, while tortoises live on land.”

  “I’ve always wanted to swim with the sea turtles in Hawaii,” my mom said.

  “Oh yes, me too,” Alice said. “They’re magnificent creatures, aren’t they?”

  “Maybe we should plan a trip to Maui together,” Dad said. “I haven’t been in years, and I bet the kids would love it.”

  While the four of them discussed everything they loved about the Hawaiian Islands, Tori and I were still focused on the magnificent creature right in front of us.

  “Why would someone just leave him like that, Mom?” Tori asked.

  “Hard to say,” Jeanie said. “Happens a lot, unfortunately, with all kinds of pets. Sometimes people have to move, and they can’t take their pet with them. Sometimes they’re dealing with a health issue or a job loss and don’t have the finances anymore. Would you like me to make an appointment for the vet to take a look at him on Monday? Make sure he’s in good health?”

  “Oh, thank you, that’d be wonderful,” Mom said. “Afternoon would be best for me.”

  “Sure, I’ll text you and let you know what time we can see him,” Jeanie said.

  “I love its little feet,” Tori said as she reached over and touched one of them. “Wait, Mom, you said ‘him.’ Does that mean you know for sure that it’s a boy?”

  “Yes, it does,” Jeanie said as she handed the tortoise to me. Now that I’d seen both of them hold him, I wasn’t so nervous about it. I placed one hand underneath him and the other hand on top of his pretty shell, which felt smooth and hard. I held on tightly, since the last thing I wanted to do was drop him.

  Jeanie explained. “See his tail? Females have short, stubby tails, while the males’ are quite a bit longer. As soon as I saw the tail, I knew it was a male.”

  “I guess the name I was thinking of won’t work, then,” I replied. “I thought Pippi would be perfect.”

  “What about Pip?” Tori asked. “Short and sweet.”

  I smiled. “Hey, I love that!”

  I held him up high so I could get a good look at his face. “How’s that sound, buddy? Do you like the name Pip?” His beady little eyes stared at me and the name seemed good and right and true. He was so unique. I’d never held anything like him.

  Tori leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Are you going to keep him?”

  In that moment, it felt like I’d never wanted anything more. The first line of a haiku popped into my head and from there, the rest fell right into place. I love it when one comes so easily like that.

  Sweet little tortoise,

  looking for someone to love.

  My heart says, yes please!

  We chatted for a few more minutes, mostly about caring for him, and just as Mom said it was time for us to head home, Jeanie added, “You should probably keep in mind that tortoises can live for eighty years or longer.”

  I gulped. “Eighty years?”

  Jeanie nodded. “Pretty extraordinary, isn’t it? This one doesn’t look very old, either, though we’ll know more once the vet looks him over.”

  “Maybe the school library has some books on tortoises,” Tori suggested as she walked me down the steps. “So you can learn everything about them to help you decide whether you should keep him or not.”

  “Good idea,” I said. My parents were ahead of us, still talking with Tori’s moms. I whispered to Tori, “Sounds like Mr. Buck is going to get an earful on Monday. Your moms aren’t the only ones who are furious.”

  “I tried to tell them it’s not that big of a deal,” she whispered back, “but I have a feeling they’ll be showing up at the next school board meeting. I just hope they don’t make me look bad somehow. We’re still trying to prove ourselves, you know? I don’t want them to ruin our chances of becoming popular.”

  Becoming popular was something Tori wanted really badly. She talked about it a lot. Worried about it, even. But me? This was middle school and honestly, from what I’d seen so far, all I wanted to do was survive.

  “At least we have parents who care about us and want to make sure we’re treated fairly, right?” I said.

  “Yeah. You’re right. See you tomorrow morning!” Tori said as I got in the car. “I have a good feeling about this one!”

  I laughed. “You say that about every game.”

  “Well, I’ve been right this whole season, haven’t I?”

  Our team was undefeated so far this year. It was pretty exciting.

  “You gonna wear your lucky socks?” I asked as Dad started the car.

  “Yes!” she said. “And because they’ve been so lucky, I’m not even washing them. I don’t want to break the streak.”

  We all laughed as we drove away. Hopefully the popular kids wouldn’t get a whiff of Tori’s sock situation. Like, literally.

  Tori and I started playing soccer together in third grade. Every year that I’ve played, I’ve fallen in love with the game a little more. But Tori, not so much. She seemed to be getting more and more frustrated by it. She wasn’t as good as she wished she could be. She’s pretty quick on the field, but she’s not very skilled at dribbling and passing the ball.

  “You’re so much stronger than I am,” she told me once. “Like, your legs are pure muscle.”

  “You mean big?” I said.

  “No,” she said. “No! That’s not what I meant, I swear.”

  Tori’s about the same height as I am, but our bodies are not similar at all. She’s like a graceful gazelle while I’m a stocky rhino. Mom has always told me that I shouldn’t compare myself to other girls. She says that everyone is shaped differently and there is no right or wrong body shape. I know she’s right, but it’s still hard sometimes.

  I remember the first time I started worrying about how I looked. It was in third grade when I’d worn shorts to field day on the last day of school. A boy named Dustin had called me Thunder Thighs, and I’d come home crying. My parents said they didn’t understand “how a child would even know that term.” But it didn’t matter. Dustin knew that nickname and then I knew it and it was all I thought of for a long time when I looked at my legs.

  “Am I fat?” I’d asked Mom. “Am I fat and you just haven’t told me? Do I need to go on a diet?”

  My mom had looked like she wanted to cry. “No,” she’d said, h
er voice shaking. “There will be no diets in this house. There is nothing wrong with your body, Hazel. Not a single thing. It houses that wonderful brain and heart of yours. It gets you around this world. And it helps you to be one of the best soccer players on your team! I’m so thankful for that amazing body of yours, and you should be, too.”

  I wanted to see it the way my mom saw it. But it’s hard. Since then, I’ve only worn shorts to play soccer. Not Tori, though. She loves shorts and would probably wear them every day if she could, even when it’s thirty-two degrees out and snowing.

  “My legs feel like they’re suffocating when I have to wear pants,” she told me one time. “They need to breathe. I have to get them off as soon as I get home or I feel like I’m going to die.”

  “Oh no, gonna die from wearing pants, HALLLLP,” I’d teased. But it was true. She hated pants and that was that. Since we had a dress code at school now that specifically mentioned shorts, I wondered if she might decide to wear long skirts more often. As for me, I’d stick to jeans, thank you very much.

  * * *

  When I got out of bed on Saturday, I said good morning to Pip, who’d slept in his box in my room, and then I put on my blue-and-white uniform. I’d chosen 20 for my jersey because it was Abby Wambach’s number when she played on the US Women’s Team. I have such happy memories of watching her on TV when she played in both the World Cup and the Olympics. She’s probably the biggest reason I wanted to play soccer. And not just play but work hard at it so maybe someday I can play professionally, too. Having her number on my jersey reminds me of that goal every time I put it on.

  My cleats were in my duffel bag along with an extra pair of shorts, a towel, and my water bottle, which I needed to refill. I carried everything downstairs and went into the kitchen. Mom was there, drinking coffee and staring out the window.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said as I took my water bottle to the sink.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “What can I give Pip to eat?”

  “There’s half a bag of kale in the refrigerator. Give him some of that for now. I’ll go to the store later and get some other things. Make sure he has fresh water. Oh, and I think you should put his box near the window, so he gets some sunshine.”

  “Okay.” I put my full water bottle into my bag and grabbed the kale out of the fridge. “Be right back.”

  “Want me to make you some eggs?”

  “No, thanks. Just feel like Cheerios today.”

  I quickly got Pip situated so he’d be okay by himself and then ran back to the kitchen for some breakfast.

  After I sat down at the table with my cereal, a banana, and a glass of orange juice, I sent a photo to Tori and a few other girls from our team with the caption: BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS!

  For a long time, Mom and Dad had said I couldn’t have a phone until I was thirteen. Last summer, they changed their minds and Mom gave me her old phone when she upgraded. But there were some rules, of course. It had to be turned off and put away at school. The camera was not to be used for selfies. And I couldn’t get any social media accounts until high school.

  “The selfie culture is not a good thing for girls your age,” Mom had told me. “Actually, it’s probably not a good thing for girls at any age, but I think it’s especially harmful for young girls.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I’d said.

  “Hazel, the constant comparison that happens on social media is very unhealthy. I know it may be hard for you to believe right now, but how we look is at the bottom of the list of things that are important in life. Selfies make it feel like it’s at the top of the list. That you are a nothing and a nobody if you aren’t getting a thousand likes with every picture of yourself. It’s absurd when you think about it because what matters, what truly matters, is how you treat others and figuring out how you can make a difference in this world for the better.”

  I swear she sounded like an advertisement—just say no to selfies! It was a lot to think about and she was probably right about most of it. Still, I was super disappointed. A lot of girls at school already had socials. I tried to tell myself that I was lucky to have a phone at all, but it was hard sometimes.

  After I finished my breakfast, Dad came down and we all got in the car to go to the game.

  “Got a new playlist for you this morning,” Dad said.

  Dad loved making game-day playlists for me. He’d put songs on it like “All I Do Is Win” and “Let’s Get It Started.”

  “Listen to this song,” he said as he turned up the volume. “It’s called ‘Here Comes the Boom’ and I think it’ll really get you pumped.”

  Mom and I laughed. But still, how cute was it that my dad was trying so hard to get me “pumped” for my games?

  When we got to the field, my closest friends on the team besides Tori, Abigail, and Sasha, greeted me with high fives and we started kicking a ball around to warm up. It was a gray, misty day. I love that kind of weather. Soccer-playing weather, for sure. The soft, green grass felt good under my cleats as I passed the ball back to Abigail.

  “Hey, better watch out. Your bra strap is peeking out of your jersey,” Sasha teased Abigail.

  Abigail quipped back, “Sure thing, Mr. Buck, let me take care of that right now. Because oh, those poor, poor boys just can’t handle a normal piece of clothing, right?”

  She whipped her jersey off and stood there in her black sports bra. And even though there was nothing offensive or indecent about it, because it just looked like a short tank top, it was kind of shocking to see it happen. But everyone on the team started cheering.

  And then, much to my surprise, Sasha took off her jersey, too. And then Tori. And then another girl did it. And another. Before long, half the team stood on the field in just their sports bras.

  I couldn’t do it. No way. They were all so much braver than I was. But I did wish Mr. Buck could have been there to see that there’s no evil in bras.

  Eventually, they had to put their jerseys on so we could start the game. And what a game it was. We won six to two, and I scored two goals. There is nothing like the feeling of scoring. Nothing. In that moment, when I see the ball go in, it’s like the world is made of chocolate and rainbows and unicorns.

  After we’d shaken hands with the other team, I ran toward my parents, who were sitting with Jeanie and Alice. Tori followed close behind me.

  We got our hugs and congratulations and then Jeanie said, “Hazel, I asked your parents if you could go to the zoo with us today and they said yes. That is, if you want to. These clouds are supposed to clear off soon and it should be a nice fall day.”

  Tori beamed. “One thing about Hazel? She’ll never say no to elephants, right?”

  “For sure,” I agreed.

  I love elephants so much. My dream is to visit one of the elephant sanctuaries in Thailand one day. Although I’m worried that when my dream finally comes true, I’ll just want to move in and live with them. I don’t know what it is about them, exactly, but I think they’re incredible.

  I actually cried when one of the Oregon Zoo’s elephants passed away last year. Lily was only six years old when a deadly virus hit her, and there wasn’t anything they could do for her. I was heartbroken about it for at least a week.

  “We want to get going,” Alice said, “so is it okay if we take you home with us and you wear something of Tori’s today?”

  This worried me a little bit. What if I couldn’t fit into any of Tori’s clothes? I had some shorts I could wear, despite my dislike of them, but I’d need to borrow a shirt.

  “Sure,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

  It was almost like Tori could read my mind. “Don’t worry. We’ll find you something good to wear.”

  Mom reached into her purse and took out her wallet. She handed me a twenty-dollar bill and then my phone, which she always keeps for me while I play. “Make sure to grab your bag. Your shoes are in there so you won’t have to wear your cleats all day. Will you text me and l
et me know when you get there? And please, stay alert. Be safe.”

  “I know, Mom.” I said goodbye to my parents and then ran off behind Tori to find Jeanie’s truck.

  We all piled in and as we headed toward their house, Tori asked Alice, “Mimi, can we make Ben go with us? He never does anything with us anymore.”

  “I’m not going to make him go,” Alice responded. “But maybe if you two ask him nicely, he’ll decide he’d like to come with us.”

  That seemed about as unlikely as Abby Wambach showing up at one of our games. But I kept my thoughts to myself. Besides soccer, it’s the one thing I’m pretty good at.

  When we got to Tori’s house, the two of us raced off to her room, saying hello to all their pets as we went. They have three cats, two dogs, and a partridge in a pear tree. Okay, not the last one, but they do have a big fish tank with lots of beautiful fish. When she told me she’d decided to call them all Shawn, I’d asked, “After Shawn Mendes, your crush to end all crushes?”

  “No.”

  “Then why Shawn?”

  “Because it works no matter what gender they are.”

  My best friend is very clever.

  One of their cats, a gray one named Archie, lay on her bed. Maybe a turtle wasn’t as soft and cuddly as a cat, but there wouldn’t be any claws to worry about. I lay on my stomach and petted him while Tori opened her dresser drawers and then her closet doors. “Pick out whatever you want.”

  I chose an adorable tee that says TEA & BOOKS & CATS & NAPS. My brain wanted to write a haiku about those things, but I told it to wait because I was in a hurry and it’s hard to do haiku while doing other things.

  “I’ll just wear my own shorts,” I told her.

  I started to take my shirt off and then decided maybe I should wash off in the bathroom first. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get a wash cloth and …” I dabbed under one of my arm pits. “You know. Don’t want to smell worse than the zoo animals.”