Celeste clamped her hand onto Julie’s arm and looked at her. She turned to face the mirror and rubbed her lips together. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she continued to clutch Julie’s arm.
Julie, with the lip-gloss wand still held in front of her, felt her hand tremble slightly. Something was happening to Celeste, something she didn’t understand. Julie closed her eyes for a moment. “See what Flat Finn thinks.” She pulled off the shirt that she’d tossed at him. “Does he approve?”
Celeste cautiously moved to stand by Flat Finn. She held very still and stared directly into the photographed eyes. The color returned to her cheeks. “Yes. He likes it. He likes it very much.” She inhaled and exhaled deeply, and slowly a cautious smile emerged. “Can I watch you put on the rest of your makeup?”
**********
Julie drove home from the campus party, parked in the driveway, and did her best to shut the car door quietly. She was home later than she’d expected, and, although Erin had been quite clear about giving Julie the freedom to come and go as she pleased, it was still hard not to feel some obligation to come home before dawn. She started fiddling with the tricky old lock on the front door, but in the dark, it was tough. The party had been fun, just not fun enough to be worth spending the night on the Watkins’ front porch.
She’d met at least thirty other Whitney students. Although she’d been a bit hesitant about walking into a party alone, it had been a good crowd, and she’d had fun. Even with the beer flowing freely, there was a different feel from high school parties. Yes, there’d been the drunk boys and crying girls she’d predicted, and surprisingly more than enough sober(ish), non-hysterical people. She’d even been hit on a few times, which, while amusing and a little flattering, hadn’t led to anything more than the mention of meeting up for coffee between classes. But she was tired, and so had ducked out around twelve-thirty after Jamie and Dana’s public groping session had taken a breather, and she’d been able to say good-bye to them.
Julie shut her eyes and focused on the key in the lock, listening for sounds that she was doing something right. After figuring out a combination of rotating the handle just a smidge while wriggling the key as it turned, she made it inside. The house was dark, and Julie tiptoed up the stairs to the second floor. In the quiet, she noticed that the fifth step from the bottom creaked loudly, the sound echoing up the stairwell. She’d have to remember that.
Matthew’s door was ajar, and his light on. Julie tapped lightly on the door, causing it to swing open. “Matt?”
“Hey, Julie.” Matt was crouched over his computer, obviously wide awake.
She walked in and sat down on the bed. “What are you doing?”
“Working myself into a frenzy over an online debate about people who go around breaking into computer systems and claim their only reason for doing so is to expose security weaknesses.”
“Oh. You didn’t go out tonight?”
“Nope.” He was still looking at the screen. “My father had a work party, so my parents were out until about an hour ago. Someone had to stay with Celeste.”
Most thirteen-year-olds would have pitched a fit at having their brother stay home with them. For reasons Julie didn’t understand yet, Celeste needed someone around all the time.
Julie leaned back on her hands and crossed her legs, bouncing one leg up and down. “Flat Finn couldn’t do it?”
“His general incompetence reaches monumental and dangerous proportions,” he said absently. “Totally untrustworthy.”
“I feel bad that I had the car. You mom didn’t mention they were going out when she said I should take it tonight.”
“They prefer to walk.”
Julie looked around. His bedroom looked more like an office than a college student’s room. The only thing on the wall was a poster with a freaky glowing nebula thing and an incomprehensible equation. “What is that?” she asked.
“The poster? It’s the dynamics of electromagnetic radiation shown through Maxwell equations.”
“It’s extremely decorative. Gives the room a warm touch.”
Matt tapped the keyboard.
“I went to a party at school tonight. It was all right. Nothing thrilling.”
She wondered again if she’d had some social obligation to invite him. They were living in the same house after all. She could have just introduced him as the son of the family she was staying with so that she wouldn’t have scared off any potential dates. But maybe she wasn’t that good a person. Plus, there was something about his tone tonight that was rather pissy and cold. He looked sort of pathetic here, slumped in his swivel chair, his evening’s social activities confined to communicating with other loner boys. Not most people’s idea of a raging Saturday night.
Matt was frowning at one of the forum messages. “Idiots. How anyone can justify hacking into the Chicago transit system? Yeah, sure we all think that guy was trying to prevent someone else from using access for malicious intent!” He turned back to Julie. “Sorry. What?”
“I said that the party was all right. I’m glad I went.”
“Good.”
“Listen, Matt,” she started. Great. He was already back on his stupid forum. Maybe he didn’t feel like talking, but something was bothering her. Especially with the way he could barely look at her. “Matt? Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t mean to, but I kind of heard you and your mom the other day. It sounded like a bit of an argument. I can’t help wondering if it was about me staying here.” Julie fidgeted with her watchstrap. “Are you not OK with it? I mean, I would understand. Really. This strange girl moves into your house with no notice, takes over your brother’s room, makes you eat metaphoric manicotti. I get it. Probably not what every boy dreams about.”
Matt smirked as he typed. “I never said you were strange.”
“That was an expression.” Julie waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. She stood up and walked to the door. “Well, I’m sorry.”
“Wait, what?” Matt looked up. “No, Julie. It’s fine.”
She stopped just outside the hall. “You don’t mind that I’m here?”
“No. It makes sense. We’ve got an extra room.”
Gee, thanks for the enthusiasm. “At least you won’t have to come home to be with Celeste in the afternoons, since I’ll be doing that. You’ll get more work done, right?”
“That’s true,” he agreed. “I will. Just don’t bother Celeste about Flat Finn, and everything will be fine.”
“OK. Good. Well, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Julie.”
She went to her room and shut the door. If Matt was cranky, it didn’t seem to have anything to do with her. But there was still something bothering her. She yawned and opened her laptop. Maybe Finn could help.
Finn-
Hey. Are you online? I need that advice sooner than I expected. Wondering if you can help me with Celeste. I think I did something wrong and upset her. We had a little girl time today which was great, and then… I don’t know. I must have done something wrong, I can’t think what. For a minute there, I thought she was going to cry. I feel terrible, and I’m worried she’s mad at me. I hope she is all right with me being here, because your brother seems less than thrilled. I know there is something going on with Celeste and Matt won’t talk about it. I’d like to help her out, but I’m at a loss.
Oh, and you could have told me about the tricky front lock and the creaky step! I’m lucky I didn’t wake your parents up at this hour!
-Julie
Julie got into her pajamas and then took her laptop into bed. Two minutes ago, Finn had commented under Matt’s post: Mom used to make us take baths together. Believe me, your “zero” is nothing to brag about. Julie laughed.
Yup, Finn was online. Her email dinged.
Julie-
Celeste? Yeah. She’s complicated. I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong. I can tell that you already care about her, and I??
?m glad. My parents consulted some highly respected shrink who thinks that Flat Finn is a creative response to nerves about starting a new school, missing me. Stuff like that. They were advised to just wait it out and support her. She freaks out if anyone hints Flat Finn might not be the most appropriate companion.
My parents went through a ton of babysitters who were less tolerant of Flat Finn than you are, so you’re obviously doing something right. She wants you there. In fact, I got an email from her tonight saying how great you were, that you did her hair up the other day, that you cooked dinner together, etc. She sounded really happy, so that makes me happy. (Oh, did she tell you that I sent her a few pictures?) Don’t worry. It sounds like you’re doing great. The best advice I can give you is to just let Celeste do her thing. Ignore Matt. He’ll get over whatever problem he has.
Fifth step from the bottom? Sorry. I should have warned you. Slipped my mind. And the lock? You got the knob turn/key jiggle maneuver down already? Impressive. That one took me years to perfect. What were you doing out so late? Were you sneaking home late from a hot date already? In Boston only a few days, and you’ve already snagged a man. Celeste said you’re a romantic. Hope he took you to dinner and the opera before returning you home so late. J
-Finn
Finn-
Yes, incredibly hot date tonight. I’ve only been in town a few days, and I’ve already snagged a native Bostonian, whom I plan on totally corrupting with my college girl wiles. I refused both the four-star restaurant and the boring opera tickets, and just dragged him to a cheap motel. I came home with smeared lipstick, my hair a mess, and my shirt inside out. How’s that for romance, baby!
Or, I just went to a party on campus, chatted for a few hours, and came home alone. You decide.
OK, I’ll try not to screw things up with Celeste. But Flat Finn can’t just be about missing you. It’s not just the flat you that’s… well, different about her. I’m really confused. I’m missing an enormous puzzle piece here. How long have you been gone? Can you call home so Celeste could at least talk to you? And when are you coming back, BTW? Now that I’ve taken over your room, you might have to fight me for it.
I want to see pictures, too! My travel experience is limited to a selection of boring cities in Ohio, one excruciating weekend in Jacksonville to visit some senile fourth cousin of my mother’s, and a trip to Yosemite one summer where I stepped on a wasp’s nest and got bitten seven times.
-Julie
Julie-
Not sure when I’ll be home. I’m really entrenched in all of this traveling business and have committed to volunteering for a number of different places. I’m going on a two-week scuba diving trip not far from here (just for fun), and then I’m off to coach kids’ football in Ghana. I lost my phone in Palau and trying to replace it when moving around so much is a nightmare. I hop on computers at volunteer headquarters, etc. when I can, but phone service is usually sketchy where I am.
Here are the pics I sent Celeste. (I do have one picture of a senile Ohio wasp, but I don’t want to make you feel nostalgic.)
I choose boring campus party.
-Finn
Julie checked out the three pictures he’d attached to his message. Any non-brain-dead girl would be impressed. The two photos of him standing next to an elephant were great, but the best one was a shot of Finn sitting on a boulder looking out at a sunset. Fine, it was a little corny. She didn’t care. Even though his face was shadowed, she could still see how handsome he was. The way his cheekbones caught the light, the hint of a smile on his face, his arm muscles peeking though his shirt.
Then she did what any girl would do: she Googled him. Eight-minutes of scrolling through search results and clicking on links got her nowhere, although she did learn that there was a Finn Watkins who played drums for a rather successful college band called Eggs Benedict, and that a Finneas Watkins from New Jersey had won a 2006 award for his classical ballet performance. None of the results produced any information about her Finn. Well, not her Finn, but… whatever. This was annoying. Not that Googling herself yielded any information either, but it would have been nice to find something.
She looked at the pictures again. Yes, indeed. Finn was cute. Super cute. And funny, smart, and charming. And he adored his sister. And did amazing volunteer work in between adventurous travels. And…
Julie stopped herself. This was silly. She couldn’t possibly have a crush on someone she’d only exchanged a few messages with, right? Because that would be abnormal. Insane. Completely not based in reality. She was not that desperate. Besides, Boston was likely teeming with smart, adorable boys. Not that having a boyfriend was really a priority, but it wouldn’t be awful.
And while the pictures were attractive and distracting, she hadn’t failed to notice that Finn had not answered her questions about Celeste.
Chapter 10
“What if the clip comes out?” Celeste squirmed as Julie fixed her hair.
“It won’t.”
“It might.”
Julie walked from behind the kitchen chair and stood in front of Celeste. “It won’t. On the off chance that it does, I can assure you that your hair will fall into gorgeous, billowing curls because of the anti-frizz serum I ran through your hair. And because you have naturally fantastic hair that most people can never achieve, even when they waste money buying celebrity-endorsed spiral curling irons on the off chance that three easy payments of nineteen-ninety-five will solve their hair woes. Just don’t touch your hair. And here’s the scarf I said would match the sweater I lent you perfectly.”
Celeste eyed the pale blue scarf suspiciously. “This is not a scarf. A scarf is thick and warm, and only needed in the winter.”
“Oh my God. Relax, kid. This scarf is just an accessory. Like earrings or a belt. It’s long and gorgeous with little shimmer to it.” Julie wrapped the scarf once around Celeste’s neck and smiled. “The color brings out your eyes. Now here, take my iPod, listen to the playlist I made you, and completely ignore Matt when he drives you to school. Then when you get out of the car, glare at him with solid disgust, and slam the door.”
“Why would I do that? I do not consider that a fitting response to his driving me to school.”
Julie sighed. “Fine, forget that last part. But at least listen to the playlist.”
Celeste scrolled through the music Julie had picked out for her. “But usually Matty and I do reasoning games and logic questions in the car. I don’t think he’ll like this. And I don’t know any of these songs.”
“Big deal. I’ll handle Matt, and you handle the Top Forty. OK, stand up and spin around Let me check you out.”
Celeste dutifully allowed Julie to assess her outfit. Matt entered the kitchen—a messenger bag across his chest and a stack of Internet printouts in his hand—as Julie was adjusting the sweater sleeves.
“Morning, Matt,” Julie said. “Celeste looks nice today, doesn’t she?”
“Morning. Celeste always looks nice.” Matt hurried past them to grab a banana from the counter. “Why is she wearing a scarf?”
Julie practically snorted. “You two are definitely related.”
Matt talked through a mouthful of fruit. “It’s not winter. We have to get moving. You ready?”
Celeste nodded and took her backpack from the floor. “Julie, are you sure this scarf is a good choice for me?”
“You are a beautiful girl, and it doesn’t really matter what you wear. I like the scarf on you, but take it off if you want. As long as you don’t borrow your brother’s T-shirts, you’ll be stunning.” Julie turned to Matt. “Don’t think that bag strap is hiding your shirt from me. I can still read it.” Today’s T-shirt said: ME: like you, only better. “You’re straight out of GQ, Matt.”
“I do my best. Come on, Celeste. Julie, do you want a ride? I just have to run a few errands after I drop her off, and then I’ll be back for a few hours before I have to be at school.”
“No thanks. I have to leave in a few minutes f
or class, and I don’t mind walking to the T.”
“Bye, Julie. Thanks for the scarf. I guess. And my hair.” Celeste followed Matt out of the room.
“And the music. Don’t forget to listen to the music!” Julie called after her. “I’ll see you after school!”
Julie sat down at the kitchen table and sipped her coffee while she went over her schedule for the week.
“Hello,” Roger said as he came into the room. “Oh, you made coffee? Wonderful. I’ll make a cup for Erin. We’re both biking to work today, and we have these delightful cup holders that fit right on the handlebars.”
“It’s a beautiful day for a ride,” Julie said. And it was. The humidity had vanished over the weekend, and the temperature had dropped to a comfortable seventy-five degrees.
“What do you have there?” Roger asked, as he filled two stainless travel cups. “Is that your course schedule?”
Julie nodded. “Yeah. First day of classes today.”
Erin breezed past her, clad in dark pants and a short-sleeve dress shirt, her outfit completed by a bike helmet and riding gloves. “What’s on the educational agenda for today?”
“Applied Calculus and then Intro to Psych,” Julie said. “Those are both Monday, Wednesday, and Friday classes. I’ll be home with plenty of time to get Celeste, though, so don’t worry.”
“Applied Calculus, huh? Didn’t you do that in high school?” Erin asked.
“I took an AP calc class, and this seems to be the next step. Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have Intro to Eighteenth Century Literature and then Economics of Poverty in the U.S.”
Erin adjusted her bike helmet and grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. “That’s a good first-semester schedule you’ve chosen. Roger, are we set?”