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  Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Van, Sandi.

  Title: Everything it takes / Sandi Van.

  Description: New York : West 44, 2022.

  Identifiers: ISBN 9781978595545 (pbk.) | ISBN 9781978595668 (library bound) | ISBN 9781978595569 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Poetry, American--21st century. | English poetry. | Young adult poetry, American. | Poetry, Modern--21st century. Classification: LCC PS586.3 E947 2022 | DDC 811’.60809282--dc23

  First Edition

  Published in 2022 by

  Enslow Publishing LLC

  29 East 21st Street

  New York, NY 10010

  Copyright © 2022 Enslow Publishing LLC

  Editor: Caitie McAneney

  Designer: Tanya Dellaccio

  Interior Layout: Rachel Rising

  Photo Credits: pp. 2-19, 22, 27-30, 34-36, 38-41, 43, 44, 46, 47, 49, 51, 54, 56, 57, 59, 60, 62, 63, 65, 67, 69, 70, 72, 74, 76, 78, 80, 83, 85, 87, 88, 90, 92-99, 102-106, 108, 110, 112, 113, 115-118, 120-125, 127, 128, 132, 133, 135-139, 141, 143, 144, 146, 148, 150-156, 158, 160-162, 164-166, 168, 170, 173-176, 178-184 ARENA Creative/Shutterstock.com.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer.

  Printed in the United States of America

  CPSIA compliance information: Batch #CS22W44: For further information contact Enslow Publishing LLC, New York, New York at 1-800-398-2504.

  This book is dedicated to my son John, who

  appreciates trees nearly as much as I do, and

  to all the eco-warriors out there.

  Don't give up. The planet needs you.

  MY CALLING

  The loudspeaker calls us down:

  All juniors and seniors

  report to the cafeteria

  for the college fair.

  We follow

  like cattle.

  Mooing in groups

  large and small.

  Chewing gum

  and checking phones.

  Not me.

  I’m ready for this.

  Questions neatly written

  on the last page

  of my English notebook.

  I’m ready

  to leave this town

  in my dust.

  MY TOWN

  feels like a leash

  pulled tight.

  Whenever

  I try

  to wander.

  TOO SMART FOR MY PANTS

  Mom tells me

  my brain is too big

  for my britches.

  Which is an

  odd way

  of saying

  I’m too smart

  for my pants.

  Mom rolled her eyes

  at my response,

  when I told her:

  it’s breeches,

  not britches.

  In the original saying

  anyway.

  I looked it up.

  See?

  I’m too smart

  for this town.

  WORDS MAÏÏER

  I’m going to study history

  and English.

  And then:

  Law School.

  Someday,

  I will get paid

  to argue.

  A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME

  I hate my name.

  Lily.

  It means:

  pure

  innocent

  beauty

  My parents

  must have

  thought

  I looked

  like

  a flower.

  My older sister says

  I looked like

  a monkey.

  They should have named me

  Vervet.

  After the Vervet Monkey.

  But they chose Lily.

  And I hate it.

  NAMES

  I wrote about names

  for my college essay.

  How they shape us.

  How they shape what people

  expect from us.

  I wrote the essay

  in poem form.

  Because if you want

  to get into college

  you need to

  STAND

  OUT.

  THE FIRST STEP

  The first step

  to taking my

  dumb

  flower

  name

  and going to

  Law School

  is getting

  into

  College.

  SO HERE I AM

  with the other cattle.

  A slow-moving herd

  on our way to

  the cafeteria.

  A group of seniors

  in front of me

  make bets

  on how many pens

  they’ll collect.

  I fear

  for

  their

  futures.

  BUT NOT MINE

  I’m prepared

  with my questions.

  I’m prepared

  with the list of schools

  where I can double major

  in history

  and English.

  Schools

  far

  far

  away

  from here.

  WHAT I’M NOT PREPARED FOR

  Every recruiter I talk to

  answers my questions.

  Fills in the blanks.

  Asks a few of their own.

  Major?

  Check.

  Far away?

  Check.

  Required GPA?

  Got it.

  SAT scores?

  You know I rocked them.

  Great, that’s great,

  they all say.

  And how about

  extracurricular activities?

  …

  …

  …

  JUNIOR YEAR IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT GRADES, NOT CLUBS

  I’ve taken all the right classes.

  My grades are good.

  Because I spend

  my time

  studying.

  Not trying to

  save the world

  or make new friends.

  Sure, I tried a few clubs—

  debate

  Spanish

  newspaper.

  And I’m sure I could

  write them down

  on the application.

  But then,

  the recruiters said

  there will be an interview.

  Where you talk about

  your GOALS.

  And how your time

  in HIGH SCHOOL

  helped you figure out

  who you want to BE.

  ME?

  I figured out

  who I wanted

  to BE

  by watching episodes

  of Law and Order

  with my mom.

  FAMILY

  It’s just the three of us:

  me

  Mom

  Faith.

  When my older sister was born,

  Mom had a lot

  of faith.

  She believed

  everything would work out

  perfectly—

  husband

  dream job

  beautiful house

  kid

  and then another (me).

  The perfect holiday card.

  UNTIL

  Dad struck it rich
r />   with one of his many

  business ventures.

  Mom lost her job.

  Dad met someone new.

  Mom lost in court.

  And we had to move

  out of the beautiful house

  and into this tiny apartment.

  How’s that for

  law and order?

  WORDS HAVE DOUBLE MEANINGS

  We need to have faith,

  Mom would say.

  And I’d look at my sister

  and wonder.

  Was she planning to leave us,

  the way Dad did?

  That’s the thing

  about words.

  We need to have

  FAITH.

  As in:

  Don’t give up.

  Follow your dreams.

  Believe they will come true.

  And if life

  pulls out the rug

  from under your feet,

  dig your toes

  firmly

  into

  the ground.

  LOSS OF FAITH

  Eventually

  Faith did leave.

  But not because

  she found a family

  she liked better than ours.

  (The way Dad did.)

  She left to become a dancer

  in Las Vegas.

  (She had to change her name.)

  We saw a video

  of her show.

  (She looked happy.)

  Mom said,

  Well, that’s life for ya.

  Which is

  the same thing she said

  when Dad left

  when she lost her job

  when we had

  to leave our house.

  (Well, that’s life.)

  NOT ME

  I refuse to allow life

  to walk all over me

  like an animal

  pacing their cage in the zoo.

  Life is not something you

  let happen.

  It is something you grab

  with both hands

  and steer in the direction

  you want to go.

  THE NEXT DAY

  I watch the

  morning announcements

  closely

  for the first time

  ever.

  Some girl with a high ponytail

  and a guy trying too hard

  to grow facial hair

  report on meaningless school news.

  But then…

  Anyone interested

  in saving the planet,

  the girl says,

  should come to room B219 after school.

  A logo flashes

  on the screen.

  “Green for Good”

  it reads.

  I have no interest

  in saving the planet.

  But I do need a club to join,

  and the logo is drawn pretty well.

  Okay, I think.

  I’ll give it a try.

  Famous last words.

  YOU CAN LEAD A HORSE TO WATER, BUT YOU CAN’T MAKE IT DRINK

  I text Mom.

  Tell her I’m staying late.

  Wander down the B wing

  like a lost dog.

  No.

  A rejected dog.

  The one left behind

  at the pound.

  Because clubs and I

  don’t exactly stick.

  Spanish club:

  Politely asked

  not to return.

  I kind of set the

  Homecoming float

  on fire.

  They probably

  shouldn't have

  put me in charge

  of the sparklers.

  Newspaper Staff:

  Question: How hard could it be

  to report on the school news?

  Answer: When you refuse

  to do a piece

  ranking soda flavors

  in the vending machine—

  hard.

  Debate Club:

  A club about arguing!

  A club full of kids

  destined for law school!

  It should have been

  my jam.

  But I had trouble

  following the rules.

  And when I kept

  getting disqualified,

  they kicked me out.

  I picture my college interview:

  And tell us, Lily,

  about your nonacademic

  experiences.

  Followed by a blank stare.

  I need a win.

  I need the environmental club

  to work—

  no matter what.

  So,

  I pull my shoulders back.

  Smile.

  Walk

  through

  the door

  of room 219.

  GREEN FOR GOOD

  There are five people in the room.

  I wonder how they plan

  to save the planet

  with such limited resources.

  Shush it, Lily.

  No one wants a grumpy

  club reject.

  Five faces look up at me

  when I enter.

  Ten eyes stare at me

  like I’m an alien.

  I want to say, I’m not an alien.

  Just a girl who needs to pad

  her college application.

  Instead I say,

  Hello,

  my name is Lily.

  I’m here to, um, save the Earth.

  It comes off like a question.

  I hear someone laugh-snort.

  A girl. Dark hair.

  Small braids on one side

  around her ear.

  Well you’re in the right place,

  she says.

  I’m Fiona.

  She raises her eyebrows at the group

  and they say their names in turn:

  Fern

  Max

  Cooper

  Jewel

  You new here? asks Fern,

  a girl with glasses and

  red hair in two long braids.

  Yeah, never seen ya around,

  adds Max.

  Maybe I spend too much time

  in the library.

  No, I say. I’m a junior.

  Ah, says Fiona.

  She makes the laugh-snort sound again.

  A junior, huh?

  Here to beef up the ol’

  college applications?

  Her words are sharp.

  I consider walking out.

  Finding a different club—

  something a bit less

  judgy.

  But I don’t exactly have

  other choices.

  I need this.

  SO… I STAY

  Don’t look so shocked, College Girl,

  Fiona says.

  We’ve seen your type before.

  She stares at me.

  Her eyes are dark brown,

  almost black.

  I hold her gaze

  as long as I can

  and then look down

  at the floor.

  Let me guess.

  Student council dropout?

  I shake my head.

  No matter.

  We’re not picky.

  We’ll take ya.

  We need all the manpower—

  Person power, Cooper corrects.

  Fiona stops.

  Grins.

  Continues.

  Person power we can get.

  Here at Green for Good,

  we like to get things done.

  And extra accomplices

  are always welcome.

  Fiona winks

  at the other group members

  who laugh and nod.

  I suddenly feel nervous

  but also

  strangely excited.

  So, College Gir
l, Fiona says.

  Lily, I say.

  Right.

  College Girl—

  are you in?

  ARE YOU IN?

  Never have three words

  made me feel so excited

  and scared half to death.

  WANTED: CRAZY GIRL

  Their eyes wait.

  Am I in for what?

  I ask, innocently.

  You planning to blow up

  a fracking site?

  Fern giggles.

  Why? You good with explosives?

  asks Max.

  He grins.

  Runs fingers through his

  spiky black hair.

  Explosives? I—uh—

  Don’t sweat, College Girl, says Fiona.

  He’s kidding.

  LEADERSHIP

  What exactly

  are you planning? I ask.

  And don’t you guys have an advisor

  or something?

  Cooper points

  at a young teacher

  in the far corner,

  her nose in a book.

  Technically, it’s Mix Martin.

  Mix? I ask.

  We prefer not to assign

  outdated gender prefixes.

  Mix Martin is new and

  lets us do our own thing.

  More or less.

  Oh.

  More

  or

  less.

  FACT VS. FICTION

  Look, Fiona says,

  we know the rumors

  about what we do here.

  People say we’re

  tree-hugging troublemakers,

  right?

  Did we make a lot of people angry

  when we protested the

  Memorial Day

  balloon launch

  last spring?

  Yes.

  Did we almost get arrested for,

  what was it again?

  She turns to Fern.

  Disturbing the peace, Fern says.

  Right, disturbing the peace.

  No.

  The police gave us a warning,

  Fern says.

  And we’re not allowed

  in the party store

  anymore.

  The party store? I ask.

  Cooper explains:

  We rented all their

  helium tanks.

  So the town couldn’t.

  And we shouted,

  BALLOONS KILL WILDLIFE!

  during the parade, Max adds.

  Fiona smiles,

  proud of her team.

  And we have never chained ourselves