Apparently, Sally White has joined our group. She hasn't asked. We haven't given her permission. She's a very presumptuous girl. Everywhere we are, she shows up. Just slides in noiselessly and sometimes goes unnoticed until that bored, cool voice breaks into our conversation and startles us. We can't figure out why she isn't picking favorites. She has an angle. She wants something from us. I know it.
I run into her on my way to the cafeteria Friday. She falls into step beside me, like we're old friends, like we do this every day. I glance over at her. She's still wearing those mirrored sunglasses, even though we're indoors. She takes them off only when the teachers force her. She glances back at me and I see myself reflected in those glasses, staring back at me. It occurs to me that Sally and I are eye-level. Usually I'm looking up at her.
"Are you shrinking?" I ask.
Sally stops and swings her right leg into the air, resting it against some lockers. She's wearing the same navy knee socks and black loafers as me. "Dr. Patek hauled me into her office last period. Stilettos aren't part of the dress code."
"I thought you were really tall."
"Well, I'm not."
Sally and I continue on to the cafeteria. Secretly, I am pleased by this latest development. I like the thought that Sally White must look me in the eye. If only she'd take off those ridiculous sunglasses.
"Is Anna still coming?" I exclaim, as I approach our lunch table.
Abby has a mouthful of apple sauce, so she gives me the thumbs-up sign.
"You're certain?" I ask, sliding into my seat and opening my lunch sack. To my displeasure, Sally sits down next to me.
Abby swallows. "Certain. She called last night. She'll be in around four."
Perfect. My date with Wes isn't until six. Anna and I will be able to spend an hour or so together. I'll have more time for her tomorrow. I might even tell her about Wes. The whole truth. Greer may be my long-time best friend, but Anna is my confidante. She listens well and keeps secrets. What little I reveal, I reveal to her.
Sunday is Abby and Anna's seventeenth birthday. Anna promised - swore - she'd be home for it. We've put together a small party for them. It'll be at Kristy's house. (Everything happens at Kristy's). Watson and Elizabeth will barbecue. Personally, I think it's getting a little too cold for barbecuing, but Kristy doesn't agree. But no matter the weather, I know the party will be a great time. And it'll be wonderful to finally see Anna again.
"Abs, Mom wants to know if you have a soda preference. We're going shopping tonight for the party," Kristy says.
"Grape and strawberry," Meg answers.
Kristy turns to Meg and gives her a pointed look, then looks back at Abby. "Abby, what kind of soda would you like?" she asks.
Abby pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Uh...regular cola, I guess. Anna likes root beer. Whatever you want," Abby replies. "I'll pay you back," she adds.
"Nah, it's okay. Mom and Watson will pay," Kristy tells her. She checks between the bread of her ham sandwich, squinting, examining whatever else is inside. "Mom also wants to know if you prefer broccoli casserole or green bean casserole."
"Ew, not broccoli," answers Meg.
Kristy turns to her again, this time with a withering look. "Meg, when is your birthday?" she asks.
Meg takes a sip of her bottled apple juice. "May twenty-sixth," she says.
"Well, on May twenty-sixth, you can choose whatever soda and casserole you wish. Until then, please shut up."
"This is some party you're planning," Sally comments, unscrewing the cap on her ginger ale. "Strawberry soda...broccoli casserole...will there be a piñata, too? And grab bags?"
"Well, I guess you won't know since you're not invited," Kristy snaps. Kristy tried to give Sally a fair chance. That fair chance lasted less than twenty-four hours. Yesterday, during microbiology, Sally suggested that Kristy wax her eyebrows. It looks like two caterpillars died on your face, she said. And that was it for Kristy.
"Pity," replies Sally with a smirk.
I glance over at Greer, who's seated beside Kristy. Greer has been alternately impressed and disgusted by Sally. She can't seem to make up her mind if she wants Sally as a friend or an enemy. I find myself looking to Greer every time Sally speaks, in order to gauge her reaction. I can't figure out where Sally stands with Greer. I'm beginning to wonder where I stand with Greer, as well.
"The party's going to be a lot of fun," Greer announces, haughtily. "I adore barbecues, especially ones with broccoli casserole. My parents lifted my grounding early just so I may attend."
I smile at Greer, then happily take a bite of my apple. "It'll be a blast," I agree, even though I haven't finished chewing.
Lindsey, who's seated on the other side of Greer, looks less than pleased. "You've been grounded for three days!" she cries. "That isn't fair! My grandparents won't let me off grounding for the party! I have to stay home and clean the garage!"
"You live with your grandparents?" Sally asks, although she doesn't sound curious or interested. Just bored, like always.
"Yes."
"Old people. Bummer."
"They aren't that old! They're only fifty-seven! Some people's parents are that age!"
"Sure. People with old parents."
Lindsey stares down at her half-eaten lunch. She begins to finger the end of her french braid. Pretty soon, it's in her mouth. She's chewing it like she did when we were kids. Her grandparents sent her to a psychologist who was supposed to have broken her of the habit.
"Maybe that's why," Sally says, casually.
Lindsey raises her eyes. "Why what?" she asks, suspiciously.
Sally shrugs. "Why you remind me of an old person."
Lindsey drops her braid from her mouth. Her bottom lip begins to quiver. She jumps out of her seat and runs from the table, dragging her backpack behind her. She shoves open the cafeteria doors and disappears.
I turn on Sally. "Why are you always picking on Lindsey?" I demand.
Sally shrugs again. "She's too sensitive."
"You're a real creep," Kristy spits out, gathering up her lunch.
The rest of us begin gathering our stuff, too. "If you're going to be a bitch, you don't need to sit with us anymore," Greer tells Sally, shoving the remainder of her lunch into her bag. I'm proud of Greer.
Meg pauses beside the table while the rest of us start to walk away. "Everyone's supposed to be nice to Lindsey," she explains to Sally, "because her parents were killed in a train wreck."
"It's not like I was driving the train," Sally replies and we leave her sitting there, alone, sipping her ginger ale.
Lindsey's parents didn't really die in a train wreck. They just didn't want her. Lindsey doesn't know we know, so we pretend to believe her lies.
When I get home from school, I pay Mrs. Bryar and walk her out to her car like always.
"Mick and I broke up," I tell her, as we walk down the driveway.
"Maria told me."
I cringe, inwardly. Maria's big mouth. "Did she tell you how he did it?" I ask.
"Yes," she answers, but doesn't comment further. I suspect she knows me well enough to know I don't appreciate pity.
"It's for the best," I assure her. "I've already met someone else."
Mrs. Bryar unlocks her car door and raises her eyebrows. "A week later?"
I shrug. "I didn't plan it," I tell her. "You can't control who you - " I almost say love, but now I'm not sure I ever loved Mick. And I certainly don't love Wes. I barely know him. "You can't control who you like," I finish.
Mrs. Bryar studies me a moment, then says, "Don't jump into anything just because you're feeling hurt and angry."
"I'm not hurt and angry."
Mrs. Bryar cocks her head to the side. "Be careful," she advises. "I'll see you next week, Shannon."
"I should be here on Monday. Italian Club's been canceled," I tell her with a wave, then I hurry back into the house to start my homework.
Tiffany, Maria, and I work on our homework in the formal dining room, so I can watch for Anna. Last year, I took it for granted that her black Mustang would roar down the street and into the Stevensons' driveway almost every Friday afternoon. Her school started seven weeks ago. She's only come home once since then. New Haven's about an hour or so from here. I don't know what's kept her away.
Anna's black Mustang never shows up. Instead, at fifteen after four, a rusted blue Ford Tempo huffs passed my house and into the Stevensons' driveway. Its bumper and back windshield are covered in duct tape. It's a car that would make my parents and the neighbors never think of complaining about the Pink Clinker again. Tiffany, Maria, and I set aside our books to stand by the window. The driver's side door opens and a tiny girl, probably even shorter than Kristy, with wiry dirty blonde hair climbs out. A few seconds later, Anna Stevenson climbs out after her.
"Who is that?" Maria asks, wrinkling her nose. "And what happened to her car?"
"I don't know," I reply, my stomach sinking. Anna always comes home alone. How can I confide in her if some random girl is hanging around? "Maybe she's not staying," I add, hopefully.
"If she is staying," Tiffany says, "I hope she parks that car in the garage. What an eye sore!"
Abby and Kristy run out the front door of the Stevensons' house. Abby leaps over some hedges and turns a cartwheel on the lawn. I wonder if she knew about this other girl. She could have said something!
"I guess we should go over," I tell Tiffany and Maria, half-heartedly. My earlier excitement has deflated. I try to shake it off. Jealousy is not becoming on anyone. Of course Anna has friends at school. I know that. She has a separate life outside Stoneybrook.
I force a smile onto my face as I cross the street. "Anna!" I shout, waving an arm in the air.
Abby has jumped on Anna, practically smothering her to the ground, but Anna wriggles free. Anna isn't quite as exuberant as Abby. She's much more serious and reserved. But she grins when she sees me and wraps her arms around my neck. "Shannon! It's so good to see you," she tells me. "I've missed you." She drops her voice and whispers in my ear, "I got your letter. I'm sorry. You deserve so much better."
I wrote to her about Mick and the break-up over the weekend. I told her the truth. "Thank you," I whisper back. "I know."
"Okay, break it up!" Abby orders, pulling Anna and I apart. "I'd like to hug my sister again, if you don't mind."
"Where's your car?" I ask Anna when Abby releases her.
Anna glances back at the rusted Tempo. "Oh, you know I don't like driving that car. Too noisy, too fast. Adelaide likes driving though." Anna grabs her wiry haired friend by the wrist and pulls her forward. "This is my roommate, Adelaide. She's an oboe player. She's been dying to meet everyone." Anna proceeds with introductions.
Of course. Adelaide the roommate. Anna's mentioned her. Not very often. Anna prefers to listen rather than talk about herself. There's a lot she doesn't say about herself and her life at school.
"It's terrific to finally meet you all!" Adelaide exclaims. She has a high, squeaky voice, sort of like a cartoon character. "I've heard so much about everyone and about Stoneybrook. I'm from Danbury and Anna comes home with me all the time. Finally, it's my turn to see Anna's town!"
My eyebrows shoot up so high they must disappear into my hair. Anna's never mentioned anything about Danbury. I thought she was spending every weekend at the school. I look over at her, but Anna glances away, avoiding my gaze. I start to speak, but the blare of a car horn interrupts, causing everyone to jump and turn toward the street. Mrs. Stevenson pulls into the driveway in her minivan. She taps the horn again and waves cheerfully. I expect Abby and Anna to look pleased, but instead they appear alarmed.
"Why aren't you at work?" Abby demands as Mrs. Stevenson steps out of the van.
Mrs. Stevenson appears taken aback. "I took off early, so I'd be here for Anna's homecoming. Hello, sweetheart," she says to Anna, smiling and opening her arms. Anna hesitates before stepping into them. She stands stiffly in Mrs. Stevenson's embrace and doesn't hug her mother back. It's an odd, uncomfortable moment, like spying in someone's window and catching something not meant for others' eyes. Kristy looks over at me. She feels it too.
Mrs. Stevenson releases Anna and regards the rest of us. "Hello, girls," she greets us, then pats Adelaide on the back. "Lovely to see you again, Adelaide. Thank you for bringing Anna home to us. Is everyone hungry? How about an early dinner at Pietro's? We can show Adelaide the sights of Stoneybrook."
Abby's mouth turns down, doubtfully. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asks.
"Don't you have some work to do?" Anna asks, her expression matching Abby's. Identical doubtful frowns.
Mrs. Stevenson's smile wavers. "I cleared the weekend for you, Anna," she says.
"You didn't have to."
Mrs. Stevenson doesn't reply right away. She stares at Anna, then at Abby. Kristy and I exchange another awkward glance. I look to Adelaide, but she's studying her fingernails. Behind me, Tiffany and Maria shift from foot to foot. I'd forgotten they were there.
Mrs. Stevenson speaks again. "Pietro's it is then?" she says in a bright and breezy voice that wavers like her smile. "Or is everyone in the mood for chinese? Kristy, Kilbourne girls, you're all invited, of course."
"Oh...thank you, Mrs. Stevenson, but I have plans," I answer.
"Plans?" Anna echoes, frowning.
"Yes," I say, then hesitate. "I have...a study group. At the library." I never lie to my friends. I've never ever lied to Anna. I would have told her the truth if she'd come alone. "But don't worry, Anna. I'm free all tomorrow afternoon."
"After our New Hope presentation," Kristy reminds me.
"Yes, after that."
"Kristy will come to dinner though," insists Abby, throwing an arm around Kristy's shoulders. Kristy looks unsure, but nods anyway.
Mrs. Stevenson smiles in my direction. "Tiffany, Maria, you're welcome to join us," she offers, most likely because she now feels obligated.
"I have a date," Tiffany answers.
I whirl around. "You didn't tell me about any date!" I exclaim.
Tiffany folds her arms. "I don't have to clear my social calendar with you," she says.
Tiffany isn't going to start anything in front of the Stevensons', in view of the entire neighborhood. I won't allow her to bait me. I turn back to everyone. "Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Stevenson. Maybe next time," I say, graciously, then step forward to Anna and give her another quick hug. "I'm glad you finally came back. We'll hang out tomorrow," I promise. "We'll see everyone later. Have a nice dinner!" I wave and start across the front lawn, grabbing Tiffany by the wrist as I pass her.
"Bye Shannon!" everyone calls after me.
When I glance over my shoulder to wave again, Anna's watching me, sadly. I feel a sharp pang of guilt for disappointing her. I'll make up for it tomorrow. Kristy doesn't look very happy with me either, like she suspects I've fabricated an excuse to escape the awkwardness of the Stevensons' company, and purposely left her alone. I'll make up for that too.
Tiffany shakes off my grip as we approach our house. "Why didn't you tell me you have a date?" I demand, as she strides ahead of me.
"Why didn't you tell me you have one?" she shoots back.
"I don't. I'm going to the library."
Tiffany looks back at me and rolls her eyes. "Riiiight. Even you're not that lame. Don't worry, Shanny, I'll keep your little secret." Tiffany runs through the front door and when I reach the porch, shuts it in my face.