Chapter 3
Jackson mounted the saddle of a jet black horse, and kicked him in the flanks. It sped off, through the high meadow, leaving a trail of trampled grass behind it. Just as they were about to collide with the fence enclosing the pasture, Jackson yanked the reins and the horse reared up on its hind legs, and kicked its front legs in the air. Sunbeams flashed through them, as if from a corny Wild West Western movie.
Lilly held her breath. Jackson was going to fall.
He tightened the grip on the reins and sent the horse galloping along the fence.
Wow. If Miley was as good a rider as Jackson, she needed to see it. And, hopefully, she did so with both feet firmly planted on the ground rather than in saddle stirrups.
Miley had told Lilly that they would walk to school instead of taking the school bus because school was only a twenty-minute walk away. It was fine either way. In Malibu she despised having to squeeze herself into that cattle car of a school bus, so she always rode her skateboard to school.
Lilly rose from the front porch steps, and slung the strap of her shoulder bag over her head.
Miley had swept her alarm clock off the nightstand when it went off this morning, and she had been still in bed when Lilly had returned from the shower. Lilly had nudged her, and a whine had come from under the covers, I don't want to go. When Miley hadn't shown up for breakfast, Lilly had found her sitting on the edge of her bed, still in her pajamas, staring off into space.
A clatter reached Lilly from inside, and Miley stumbled out the front door, hair pulled back into an untidy bun. "I'm sorry."
On the way to school, Miley was unwilling to talk about what was going on, and when Lilly brought up Hannah Montana, Miley steered the conversation in a different direction. She pointed out and named every flower that grew along the field's edge. When a bird with white and light-brown plumage landed in front of them, Miley explained that it was an Eastern Phoebe and that she couldn't wait for spring so Lilly could listen to their lovely singing.
They ascended the wide steps to the two-story school building, which was surrounded by a large lawn with pine trees towering over the red tile-covered roof. A little further down the lawn, the steel beams of a half-dismantled stage glistened in the sunlight. Workers dragged speakers and steel posts across the lawn to a truck parked on the street in front of the school. A banner that had already detached above the stage on one side fluttered in the wind like a flag and read: Crowley Corner's Annual Talent Show 2008.
They followed the crowd through the open double doors, and Miley's steps slowed. Blue-painted lockers lined both sides of the hallway. Hundreds of footsteps echoed across the linoleum floors, mingled with the chatter of just as many students. Posters for local sports and cheerleading squads adorned the wall: Let's cheer for the Crowley Corner Cowboys.
"I don't have a freaking clue where classroom one-hundred-eighteen's supposed to be. You?" When Lilly didn't get an answer, she turned around.
Miley stood a few feet away in front of the girls' restroom, fiddling with the wristband wrapped around her arm. "Is it okay if I quickly fix my hair?"
Lilly fumbled her phone from her jeans pocket. "It's already seven forty-eight."
"That is plenty o' time. I promise it will be quick."
Lilly nodded, her gaze darting down the hallway. Four guys fist-bumped one another. A cheerleader jumped on the back of a jock, who turned around and pulled her close once she had solid ground under her feet again. A group of students parted like a red velvet stage-curtain to reveal a boy leaning against a locker. One hand stroked his vanilla blond hair back, while the other clutched his cell phone, his eyes fixed on the screen.
Lilly sucked in a quick breath.
As if the boy had sensed her watching him, he looked up from his phone, blinked, and turned to face Lilly. Navy eyes locked on her and a dazzling smile broke out on his face. He pushed himself off the locker.
Oh God, he was coming straight at her. Lilly clutched the strap of her shoulder bag.
He rested his shoulder against the locker next to her. "You new?"
Lilly gave him what she hoped was a pleasant smile. "Yeah, I'm doing a student exchange this year."
"Cool. I'm Jake Ryan." He offered her his hand.
Lilly wiped her clammy hand on her pants before shaking his and introducing herself.
And you're a… " He held his index finger in the air before Lilly could open her mouth. "Let me guess. A senior?"
Lilly shook her head.
"Freshman?"
"I'm a sophomore."
Jake snapped his finger. "Man, only three grades to pick from, and I was always wrong."
"You're a senior."
"True. Did my intellectual charm give me away?" Jake flashed her another smile, his eyebrows moving up.
Lilly laughed. "Your confidence."
One pair of slender arms wrapped around Jake's midsection, and a girl's head poked out from behind his shoulder. Lilly's heart dropped. What the hell was she thinking? That kind of heartthrob couldn't possibly be single.
The girl narrowed her eyes at Lilly, her arms tightening around Jake. Her nose was a little too wide, and her cheeks were a little too puffy, but taken together, they gave her symmetrical face a distinct cuteness. The girl sent Lilly a plastic smile. She cocked her head to one side and her straight raven hair fell out of her face, revealing a sunken scar running down from her temple over her cheek down to her chin.
Lilly's scar itched at the sight and she rubbed it through her hoodie sleeve. Hers was at least as long as the girl's, but she could hide it if she felt people were staring too much. Lilly averted her gaze from the girl's face so as not to give her the impression she was ogling her scar.
"I'm Mikayla. Nice to meet you." Her tight expression betrayed her words. She stepped out from behind Jake and placed a hand on his arm. Something about the girls' outfit—a white crop top and a light pink skirt with knee-high black boots—reminded Lilly of the girls at her school who were obsessed with nothing but brainless gossiping, stupid clothes, diets, and boys.
What took Miley so long? Did she bring her curling iron to school or what? Maybe she should just go get her.
"I don't want to be late for class." Mikayla's whining voice reached Lilly. She placed her accent somewhere between Boston and New Jersey.
"Lilly." Jake didn't budge as Mikayla pulled on his arm. "Just let me know if you need any help getting around."
"That's hella nice."
Mikayla stopped and turned back around, her brow arched.
"To be honest, I need the help right now. I have to get to room one hundred eighteen."
"You're from Cali?" Mikayla interrupted Jake before he could answer.
"Yeah, SoCal."
"I knew it when you said hella. A friend of mine lives in Los Angeles. During summer break, I always pay her a visit and go longboarding at SouthBay."
"Are you for real? I love to skate along the SouthBay."
"Then we've most likely already crossed paths this summer. Which class did you say you were in? English with Mrs. Dawson?"
"Yeah."
Mikayla jutted out her hip and rested a glitter-manicured hand on it. "Me too. Why don't we go together?"
Lilly scratched her cheek. "I can't. I'm waiting for a friend."
"Is your friend in the same class as us?"
"Yeah, but—"
"—Then you can save a seat for them."
Mikayla sat in the last empty seat in the back row of the classroom, next to two girls she introduced to Lilly as Nancy and Chelsea—the most loyal girlies in the world. In a honeyed voice, she asked two boys to clear the seats beside her. They gathered their books from the table and moved two rows further to the front.
Was Mikayla the queen bee of Pinewood High?
Nancy and Chelsea leaned against Mikayla's table.
Nancy wrapped a bleach-damaged curl of hair around her manicured finger. She leaned in close to Lilly, who had taken the seat next to Mikayla. "Mrs. Dawson only picks students from the front rows. She's said to be nearsighted and can't tell the students in the back row apart."
"Doesn't that give you an F in participation?"
Nancy shrugged. "Not if you're friends with Mikay'."
So not the queen bee, but the teacher's pet?
Chelsea held up a pocket mirror and applied a nude lipstick a few shades lighter than her tanned skin and smacked her lips together. "Do you know any Hollywood celebrities?" Her nasal voice carried a slight southern accent.
"Not specifically from the industry, but I met Tony Hawk once in a skatepark."
"Tony who?"
"Hawk. A famous skateboarder?"
"Oh." Chelsea clicked the mirror shut and wrinkled her nose.
Lilly crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair with a huff. And for a brief moment, she thought Tennessee girls were different from the Barbie clones at Seaside High, but who was she kidding?
"That's cool." Mikayla raised her gaze from examining her fingernails. "When you meet your idols, I mean."
A smile flitted across Lilly's lips.
Mrs. Dawson turned out to be a scrawny middle-aged woman with a severely backcombed bun. She waited behind the teacher's desk, hands clasped in front of her stomach, her piercing eyes peering over thick half-moon glasses perched on her nose.
Lilly took a look at the empty seat beside her. Crap, she shouldn't have let Mikayla convince her to go ahead without Miley.
Mrs. Dawson introduced herself only after all of the students had scurried to their seats. "For those of you who are new and don't know me yet, I'd like to make it clear that there are some things I will not tolerate." She waved a bony finger in the air. "Rule number one. You will not speak unless I pick you." She unfolded another finger auf. "Two. There will be no bathroom breaks. Three. Unfinished homework will be graded with an F immediately and will be changed to an E if submitted later. And four. I will not tolerate tardiness. You will receive an F if you are late for my class."
Mrs. Dawson's sharp gaze swept around the classroom once again, and when it briefly met Lilly's, she gulped. "Have I made myself clear?" A wave of nods rippled through the room. "Good." Mrs. Dawson turned away and screeched the chalk across the board as she wrote out what appeared to be the first verse of a poem.
The opening of the door shrieked through the classroom like a thousand angry harpies. Lilly gripped both edges of her table. It was the first day of school. Mrs. Dawson had to be more considerate, right? Miley stepped into the classroom, her shoulders hunched and her hands clasped in front of her.
Mrs. Dawson's lips thinned as she stood motionless in front of the blackboard.
Miley closed the door behind her. "Ma'am, I-I apologize for being late. I couldn't find the classroom."
"You should have learned to read numbers by first grade."
"I'm real sorry."
"You're new to this school. I understand that you're unfamiliar with my rules. If you're late again, that's an F, you understand?"
Miley nodded, eyes trained on the floor.
"Now take a seat."
Students gaped or scowled at Miley as she rushed to the empty seat next to Lilly. Was this class full of Mrs. Dawson suckups or what? Gosh, she needed to apologize to Miley.
Miley slammed to a stop two seats in front of Lilly's, as if instantly solidified into white marble.
Mikayla's face paled, jaw muscles twitching, and one page of her notebook crumpled under her fist.
"Sit down or find a different class." Mrs. Dawson's voice rang out to them.
Miley blinked, shook her head, and staggered over to the empty seat.
Mikayla tugged on Lilly's sleeve, and she turned around to meet her dark, wide eyes. "This is your friend?" she whispered through clenched teeth.
"Yeah, I mean, she's my hostess. I've only been here for four days."
Mikayla closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. "Please watch your back, okay?"
"What? W—"
Mrs. Dawson's gaze pierced Lilly. "Do I have to tattoo the rules on your hand?"
Lilly shook her head, and Mrs. Dawson turned back to the blackboard.
Miley's shoulders slumped forward as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. Why should Lilly be careful around Miley? She had been nothing but sweet to her since she arrived. Mikayla let her hair fall into her face and stared at the table until the second half of the period, when she transformed into a model student, raising her hand whenever Mrs. Dawson asked a question. So much for nearsightedness.
Lilly had chewed off the eraser on top of her pencil by the end of class, the tasteless rubber crumbs stuck to her tongue.
After English class came history, and when Lilly asked Miley on the way to the classroom what was going on between Mikayla and her, Miley shrugged and continued to chew on a nail.
During the third period, Miley's smile returned, albeit a strained one, but better than the far-away stare that screamed don't talk to me. Instead of answering Lilly's previous question, she told her about Crop Creek, a beautiful stream that they had to visit together. There were also places with fewer currents where they could swim while the weather was still warm. Lilly kept quiet.
The next day at school, Miley was met with stunned looks and a few nasty glances whenever she entered a new class with students they hadn't met before. Mikayla and Lilly exchanged greetings when they saw each other, but Mikayla cut off any attempts to start a conversation with curt responses.
Lilly had signed up for art class, while Miley had enrolled in music class. During art class, Mr. Abel, their art teacher announced that they needed to pair up to collaborate on a painting. Lilly teamed up with a girl draped in black silk robes, with a black and purple striped bob and a lip ring that shimmered on her middle lower lip. She looked like a model returning from a photo shoot for Teen Goth Magazine. Lilly never expected to meet someone from the black scene in a town like Crowley Corners. Hadn't Christians in villages made it their business to drive such people away with pitchforks?
"I'm Wendy." The recognition in her eyes revealed that she mistook Lilly for one of them, and Lilly was mentally preparing to be invited to a razorblade party, but the girl turned out to be fun. When she found out Lilly was from California, she was excited. "Have you ever been to Hollywood?"
Lilly's brush glided over the paper, leaving a green water trail and wavy paper behind. "Sure have."
"I'm sure you've met tons of celebrities."
"A few, but not the most important."
"Yeah, Marilyn Manson is so true that he probably lives in a crypt. Maybe you should try the cemeteries." A daring smile flickered across her face. "At night."
Yeah, no, Lilly had been thinking more along the lines of a certain blonde pop star, but no one knew where Hannah Montana lived. She put on a forced smile.
After class, they exchanged cell phone numbers. Maybe this school year wouldn't turn out to be so bad after all. Miley waited for her in the hallway.
"How was your class?" Lilly stuffed her phone into her trouser pocket and stepped aside to make room for the students who were pushing past them.
"It was all right."
"Am Ah correct in assumin' you didn't have a hankerin' for music?" Lilly grinned.
Miley's dissatisfied expression suggested that she believed Lilly was on the verge of becoming Oliver 2.0.
"I wasn't mocking the southern accent. I actually like it, you know."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
They were on their way to their lockers when a head with shaggy brown hair appeared among the tangle of students. Lilly locked eyes with Oliver. This day was getting more awesome by the minute. She waved to him and expected him to come over or at the very least return her greeting, but he turned his gaze to the ground. Weird.
When Lilly walked into geography class, Oliver was already seated in the second row, his back to her, and talking to a boy one seat behind. Lilly came to a halt in front of his desk, jerking the strap of her bag into place. "Hi."
Oliver swiveled in his chair, looked up, and jerked his gaze down to his hands, where he fiddled with the edge of his notebook. "Hey."
He most likely saved the empty seats to his left and ahead of him for Miley and her. Lilly placed the books on the table to his left and was about to sit down when she was stoped by Oliver.
"My friend is sitting there."
"Oh. Then I'll take the seat in front of you."
"Sorry." Oliver peeked up at her with dark almond-shaped eyes. "That's Luca's seat. And there's already another guy in the seat in front of me. I'm really sorry." His gaze darted back to the tabletop.
What the hell was going on?
Lilly and Miley had no choice but to sit in the front row. Throughout the period, Lilly felt a tingling sensation on the back of her neck, as if she was being watched, and whenever she turned around, Oliver was staring at her. As soon as he realized Lilly had caught him, he flicked his gaze to the blackboard.
Lilly's tongue stuck to the roof of her dry mouth as she scribbled the final word of her essay on paper. She rose from her prone position on the floor of the bedroom and went downstairs.
Cool air pooled around her as she opened the refrigerator. A week ago, she would have lingered to cool off, but the temperature had dropped so dramatically that she now always wore a hoodie to school.
She climbed the stairs back up, a glass of orange juice in hand, and found herself in front of the closed bedroom door. Miley's muffled voice poured into the corridor. Lilly leaned forward and jumped right back when Miley exclaimed, You lied to me.
Lilly's gaze swept down the corridor, making sure Jackson's bedroom door was closed and Mr. Stewart was still downstairs in front of the TV. When she was certain she was alone, she pressed her ear against the door.
… have any idea what this means for me? The squeaking of a bed was followed by a sigh. This don't change a thin'. Then. I know, I know, you would never… yes. A short pause. I don't know what to do… I can't… the student exchange… hmm… bye.
Carpet-dulled footsteps approached at a rapid speed, and a second later, the door was ripped open. Both Miley and Lilly jumped simultaneously, and the glass nearly slipped out of her sweaty grip.
"Heavens to Betsy." Miley raised a hand to her heart. "You startled me."
"You're one to talk."
"What are you doin' here anyway?" Miley's splayed-out hand stopped Lilly from answering. "Sorry. This is also your room." She stepped aside to allow Lilly in. "You can come in whenever you want, of course."
Lilly sat on her bed and placed the glass on the windowsill. "I understand that you need privacy when you're on the phone."
"You overheard our conversation?"
"Not intentionally."
"It's-it's all right." Miley turned away from Lilly and set her flip phone on her nightstand. "That was just Oliver. I was tellin' him how happy I am that we are doin' this student exchange."
Why the hell was Miley lying?