Disclaimer: I don't own Higher Ground or anything related to it. The only thing I created was Janey.
Sitting at a table in the arts room was not how Daisy had wanted to spend her afternoon. But it was her father's birthday, and Sophie had thought that it would be a good assignment for Daisy to make him a birthday card.
However, Daisy felt no pangs of inspiration. She sat upright on the stool with both palms flat on the table. Sophie watched her for a full five minutes before speaking.
"Daisy, you aren't leaving this room until I see a satisfactory birthday card," she said sternly. "It's a mandatory assignment. You don't have to be happy about it, but I think that this can benefit you."
"The potential benefits are eluding me," Daisy said dismally.
"Get to work," Sophie ordered, not unkindly. "You aren't leaving till you're done. You can stay in here all day."
"I would like nothing more," Daisy replied, smiling sweetly.
Sophie gave her a look of mild annoyance and left. Daisy left her hands flat on the table and stared straight ahead. On the other side of the room, she could hear the Trackers having a group lesson in art, drawing in 3-D to be exact. At that moment, Daisy would have given anything to swap counselors.
Finally, after several more minutes of sitting rebelliously, she grew resigned and gathered art supplies. Colored paper, markers, and stickers. Returning to her seat, she set out the supplies and stared at them.
The door swung open and David and Ezra walked in, arguing quietly. They sneaked past the class-in-session, and sat on either side of Daisy in the back. Daisy laughed inwardly, keeping her face perfectly straight. She was pretty sure that it had never been Sophie's intention to let those two loose in the same general area. Especially when that general area was right where Daisy was.
"Good afternoon, boys," she said in a mock-cheerful tone. "What's the subject of the latest argument?"
"Movies," Ezra said, glaring at his adversary. "Which is better: Armageddon or Deep Impact?"
"Armageddon," David said instantly.
"Deep Impact," Ezra countered. "It came first."
"They were both released in 1998," Daisy commented.
"Deep Impact in May, and Armageddon in July," Ezra corrected. "It came first."
"Armageddon has better explosions," David said, relying on his own twisted logic.
"Deep Impact was much more based on a broad range of human beliefs, interactions, relationships, and natures," Daisy said. "It was better in that sense."
Ezra nodded emphatically. "Gotta go there, David."
"Explosions versus relationships?" David said with a tinge of disgust. "Explosions win, man. Better effects."
"Don't say that near Peter," Ezra warned. "He's not big on explosions."
"I know," David said gleefully. Daisy decided she really did not want to know.
"Look," she said. "As much as I love mediating your petty conversations, I have to make a birthday card, so I'm gonna ask you to clear out."
"Rejection!" David yelped, getting odd looks from the Trackers and a warning look from the Trackers' counselor.
"How can I say this?" Daisy mused. "Oh, how 'bout, 'beat it, David.'"
He got the idea and left, bopping Ezra on the head as he left. Ezra scooted closer to Daisy. "Card for who?" he asked.
"Dad," Daisy said slowly. "Sophie thinks it will enlighten me. While I believe otherwise, I am supposed to respect her authority over my life and make the stupid card."
Ezra nodded. "Horizon logic: go figure."
"Really," Daisy agreed with a forced chuckle.
"Let me guess," Ezra said. "Having trouble getting started?"
"A bit, yeah."
Ezra grabbed a small container and tossed it at her. Daisy caught it—barely. Ezra couldn't throw footballs or small containers.
"What's this?" she asked.
"Glitter," Ezra said. "Remember when I was in the infirmary?"
"I remember several times when you were in the infirmary," Daisy said, smiling slightly. Ezra's clumsiness often landed him there.
"After the, um, parents-drug incident," Ezra clarified, referring to the time he nearly killed himself with laundry room chemicals after his parents visited.
"Ah yes," Daisy said, her tone bitter.
"You made me a card. With glitter." He smiled at the memory. "I don't know. That glitter just made the card. Sound dorky?" It did, but it also sounded sweet, and Daisy had to laugh.
"Thanks, Ezra."
"Sure." He stood, putting a light, unsure hand on her shoulder. "You probably want some privacy."
Daisy nodded gratefully, and watched him leave. Then she turned back to the paper. A card for dear old dad, she wondered. Crazy.
She chose a black marker and absently started to write.
It was a few hours later that Sophie returned. She had half expected to find Daisy still sitting with her hands flat on the desk, unmoving. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised when the girl shoved a finished card in her face, almost with a tinge of pride, an emotion nearly unknown to the sarcastic Daisy.
The outside said, in block letters, HAPPY BIRTHDAY. The letters were filled in with green glitter. Sophie opened it and found a message scrawled in black marker. She read it slowly.
Dad~
Happy birthday. I know you're not expecting anything from me, but here's a card anyway. I thought it was somewhat symbolic. The card is white, a clear medium, purity representing the talking we never did. The black writing is for the color of my heart when you pushed me away. The green glitter represents growth; the future of our relationship, providing alcohol no longer clouds matters. In that manner, the sparkle of the glitter is hope. I still have hope.
~Daisy
Sophie gave Daisy a smile. "Good work, Daisy."
"Yeah, well, I try," Daisy said. She hopped off her stool. "So, counselor, may I be dismissed?"
"Sure, go ahead," Sophie said. "Cliffhangers are in the dinner hall. You can go eat."
Daisy left the room, not giving her card a second glance. Sophie resolved to show it to Peter before sending it off.
It was only eight-thirty when the Cliffhanger girls returned to their dorm, energized by their respective afternoons. Auggie and Juliette had spent time together, as had Scott and Shelby, and Daisy had spent her time in the arts room. Janey had been in the dorm all afternoon. Peter brought her some dinner, then left at her request. She had just wanted to be alone.
Daisy and Juliette called the two shower stalls first and disappeared. Shelby sat on her bed, facing Janey, kicking her heels lightly against her bed. After several moments of a thick silence, she spoke up.
"Janey?"
"Shut up. I don't want to talk to you." Janey lay on her back, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling and said the words with no reflection of emotion in her voice.
"Look," Shelby said, her own voice carrying a slight edge. "I'm not Juliette, and saying stuff like that to me isn't gonna get you anywhere. It doesn't make you more mysterious. It doesn't make you sound more rebellious. It doesn't change how bad I want to talk to you."
Startled, Janey sat up, hanging her own feet over the side of the bed, meeting Shelby's eyes angrily. "Maybe not," she retorted. "But it tells you that I'm not gonna talk to you. Skank."
Shelby bit her lip to force back her furious reply. "Why are you calling me that?"
"That's what you are."
Shaking her head, Shelby said evenly, "No it's not. That's not a reason. You don't even know me. Why are you jumping to conclusions?"
"Who says I am?" Janey asked defiantly.
"Me," Shelby said. "You don't know me."
"I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Because." Janey's voice rose. Her words came out measured, clipped. "You are a skank."
"Why are you saying that?" Shelby heard her own tones rising, and she fought to keep control.
"Because you are! I know your type!" Janey cried.
"What type?" Shelby bit back angrily. Janey had no right to presume.
"Yours!" she was yelling now, and close to tears. "I don't want you to hurt Scott!"
As suddenly as it had come, Shelby's anger vanished completely. She moved to Janey's bed and sat beside her, hands in her lap. Janey's chin trembled.
"Janey…" she said quietly.
"Shut up," Janey whispered. She blinked hard to keep the tears from falling. "Please, just shut up."
"No," Shelby said strongly. "Janey, I know what happened with your mom. I know what she did to Scott and how that hurt him and you. I know about it. But, Janey, I would never do that to him. Because I love him."
"That's what my mother said," Janey choked out quietly.
"But I'm not lying!" Shelby insisted. "Scott means more to me than anything. I can tell him anything. He can tell me anything. We're best friends."
Slowly, Janey looked up. "Did you talk? Today?"
Shelby nodded.
"About me?"
Again, Shelby nodded.
"He hates me, doesn't he?"
"No," Shelby said. "I think, I think he's more worried about you hating him. He feels so bad about the drugs and always beating you up."
"I don't hate him. I couldn't."
"Why not?" Shelby asked. It was something she'd been wondering about. "After all the things he's done to you, you have every right to hate him."
"There've been too many good things with him," Janey said, and then tried to clarify. "We use to hang out. He let me play football with him and his friends. And he snuck me into an R-rated film once. Even though he was underage too. And we got caught, but he covered for me. I read The Crucible for him, for school, and got him an A on that test. There's been so much good. I never had a brother before." She paused. "It's hard to explain. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
"Yeah," Shelby said, hesitating for a second. "Younger sister. Her name's Jess. I understand perfectly." And she did. Despite how she had not told about their stepfather's abuse, Jess still loved her unconditionally.
"Is Scott in trouble?" Janey asked, breaking the silence. "Sophie looked mad."
"Actually," Shelby answered. "Peter let him off pretty easy. He just has to talk to you."
Janey looked painfully uncomfortable. "What if I don't want to?"
"I think it'll be good for both of you," Shelby said thoughtfully.
At this point, Daisy, who was known for taking the world's quickest showers, emerged from the bathroom. She looked interestedly at the two sitting on Janey's bed.
"I'm sure there's a very interesting story behind this," Daisy said in a slow, testing voice, raising her eyebrows.
Shelby stood and gathered her pajamas, heading for the bathroom. She paused as she walked by Daisy, and gave the other girl a slight smile. Daisy watched her continue into the bathroom, then sat down on her own bed, combing out her wet hair.
"Everything okay?" she asked Janey, who still sat on the edge of her bed.
Janey shrugged and lay down, crawling under the covers. She had taken a shower earlier that afternoon, wanting to wash the entire day away. She shut her eyes, trying to also shut the people out. Scott wasn't mad at her? Shelby wasn't using Scott? The thoughts swirled around in her head.
Daisy watched the younger girl for a few more minutes, then turned away. She wasn't quite sure what had happened between Shelby and Janey, but she knew that something had. Daisy picked up her copy of The Scarlet Letter and began reading the assigned chapters for the next day.
Peter came out of the bathroom, his hair still wet from his shower. He'd been climbing the climbing wall all afternoon with the Sundogs, unlike Sophie, who'd had a fairly relaxed afternoon with the Cliffhangers. He walked into the kitchen, where his wife sat at the kitchen table, reading the morning paper belatedly. She sipped at a glass of orange juice and squinted up at Peter as he entered.
"About ready to hit the sack?" he asked.
"Almost," Sophie replied. Peter sat at the table, and Sophie tossed the comics in his direction. Yawning, he caught them and started to read. Suddenly, as if he'd finally been able to phrase something that had been bothering him, he looked up at Sophie. She heard him rustling his paper and put hers down, ready to talk.
"What?" she asked before he could open his mouth.
"Something's been bothering me," he began. "About tomorrow and the whole Scott and Janey thing. Is this really fair to Janey?"
"Yes," Sophie answered firmly. "She needs this as much as Scott does."
Peter nodded, still unsure. "You sure?"
"Mmm hmm," Sophie answered, picking her paper back up. Peter did the same. After a few minutes, she put her paper back down. Peter did the same, looking at her expectantly.
"But about them…" she started, then hesitated. "Do you think that Janey…has a crush on Scott?"
Peter shook his head immediately. "No. I think they see each other as brother and sister. When they refer to each other, they don't typically say 'stepbrother' or 'stepsister,' just brother or sister. She looks up to him, sure, but I don't see anything between them."
Sophie nodded and they picked up their respective papers again.
A few minutes later, she lowered hers. Peter followed suit, watching her curiously. Seeing the quizzical look on his face, she had to laugh. He laughed too. After calming down, she pulled out Daisy's card for her father. Peter took it and looked at it carefully, reading the inside.
Dad~
Happy birthday. I know you're not expecting anything from me, but here's a card anyway. I thought it was somewhat symbolic. The card is white, a clear medium, purity representing the talking we never did. The black writing is for the color of my heart when you pushed me away. The green glitter represents growth; the future of our relationship, providing alcohol no longer clouds matters. In that manner, the sparkle of the glitter is hope. I still have hope.
~Daisy
"Interesting," Peter said finally. "The whole symbolism thing, very Daisy-esque."
"But the hope…"
"The hope," Peter repeated. "That's a new development. I didn't know she felt that way."
"Neither did I," Sophie said slowly. "Think we should talk to her about it?"
"We should," Peter responded thoughtfully. "This could be something of a breakthrough. If she's willing to try with her dad, maybe it's time for a visit."
Nodding, Sophie said, "Maybe. But I think she needs to have some input. She made the card under duress. I don't know how much she meant it."
"Daisy never says anything that she doesn't mean," Peter said definitely. "She's a very articulate, assured young lady."
"You can say that again," Sophie agreed. "We'll talk to her. Tomorrow."
"Yep." He read his last comic strip. "Ready for bed?"
"Yeah," she said, finally putting the newspaper down. "One of these days, though, I am actually doing to finish the newspaper before it becomes outdated."
"Great goal," Peter teased. "Or maybe you should shoot lower, like me, and just go for the comics."
Sophie laughed, and stood up, taking Peter's hands in her own contentedly.
"I like to aim higher," she said cheerfully, tugging him up. "Greater goals, more challenges."
He grinned at her, smitten, and they kissed.