“I want to ask you something.” It was Terri. “It’s important.”
Reluctantly Beth opened the door. “What is it?”
Terri entered, her gaze darting everywhere. “Um—my friend LuAnne is having a pool party Saturday night and she wants us to come.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t feel like partying.” Beth turned away.
“It’s the last party before school starts. Everyone will be there. It’ll be fun.”
“Fun for you, maybe, but not for me.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know, that’s all.”
“You never want to do anything.” Terri sounded pouty.
“Look, I just don’t feel like going to some party. Don’t you get it?”
“You could make friends.” Terri’s tone turned cajoling.
“I have friends. They just don’t happen to live in Tampa.”
Terri put her hands on her hips. “You have to make new friends, Beth. You live here now. This is your home.”
Beth wanted to slap her. “I live here because I have to live here. But I don’t like it one little bit.”
Terri looked shocked. She took a step backward. “What’s so horrible about living here? You’ve got everything you could want. All you have to do is say one word to my mother and she jumps to give you anything. I don’t see what’s so horrible about that.”
“Would you like to trade places with me?”
Terri’s cheeks colored, and she dropped her gaze. “No … I don’t want to trade places with you. But I do want you to come to the party with me. The truth is if you don’t go, I can’t go. Mom won’t let me go without you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”
Terri shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You know, Terri, if you’d just be honest with people, maybe you wouldn’t have to argue about everything you want.”
“I didn’t think you’d go if you thought you were doing me a favor.”
Exasperated, Beth shook her head. How little her cousin knew about her! “I’m not that way. I know how to be nice. I’m not above doing somebody—anybody—a favor.”
“Even me?” Terri looked contrite.
“Yes,” Beth said after a pause.
“Then you’ll come to the party?”
With a start, Beth realized she’d painted herself into a corner. She still didn’t want to go, but if she said no now, she’d come across as petty and mean. “Oh, all right,” she mumbled after a long pause.
“Great.” Terri was all smiles. “We’ll have fun. We really will.”
Terri sailed out of Beth’s room, and Beth closed the door behind her. A sudden sadness overcame her. She shouldn’t be going to parties. Not when neither Allison nor Doug could ever attend one again. It wasn’t right. Beth sagged onto the bed, tears pooling in her eyes. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t.
LuAnne’s backyard swarmed with kids Beth didn’t know and didn’t want to meet. The pool and patio blazed with lights, and underwater swimmers took on distorted, rippled shapes. Hamburgers smoked on a massive grill, and a table overflowed with bowls of chips, cold drinks, salads, and desserts. Terri immediately locked onto Kasey, and Beth edged away from the crowds without being noticed.
At the far end of the backyard she found refuge beneath a large banyan tree. The tree’s aerial roots hung down like the legs of a spider, and looking through them was like looking through the bars of a cage. With a heavy sigh, she leaned against one of the thicker root-trunks and kicked at the bare ground with the toe of her sandal. The sounds of splashing, laughter, and music coming from the party seemed offensive to her. How could everybody be so happy when she felt so sad and alone?
“Are you hiding on purpose, or did you just lose your way?”
Beth turned to see a boy approaching her. He balanced a paper plate of food in one hand. “I’ll bet you’re Beth.”
“How do you know that?” He didn’t look familiar.
“Word gets around. I’m Jared Harrison.” He stopped in front of her and grinned. “And I’ve come to rescue you.”
9
“Maybe I don’t want to be rescued.” Beth wished Jared would go away.
“Well then, you can rescue me. I hate these parties.”
“Why’d you come?”
“Nothing better to do. Would you hold this for a minute?” He handed her his plate of food and pulled himself up onto a low branch of the banyan tree. He reached down for the plate. “Come on up. There’s plenty of room.” She hesitated. “Or you could go back to the party.”
Beth struggled up onto the branch and settled beside him. They weren’t very high off the ground, but the new perspective made her feel better. She couldn’t say why.
“Want a bite?” Jared offered his plate.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I’m always hungry.” He bit into his hamburger. “So, what are you doing this far from the party?”
“I don’t feel much in a party mood.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. I heard about your family.”
“How?”
Jared gestured with his burger. “Terri told Kasey and LuAnne. They told everybody else.”
“That’s my personal business.” It upset Beth so much to think that Terri and her friends had gossiped about her.
“Not when you’re around the Mouth of the South. Or Terri the Tattler, as she’s also sometimes known.”
Beth smiled, feeling a perverse pleasure in her cousin’s nicknames.
“I’m sorry about what happened to your parents,” Jared said. “That’s a pretty bad thing.”
She hung her head. “Nobody understands.”
“Maybe not about that, but I do understand what it feels like to be the new kid on the block.” He munched on a chip. “My parents divorced a few years ago. Mom remarried when I was twelve and we moved here. So I was facing being the new kid in school two years ago, like you are now. Starting in a new school can be pretty awful, if you let it.”
“I’m not looking forward to it.” She glanced toward the party. The tree’s leaves obscured her vision, but she imagined Terri huddled with her friends, blabbing on about some guy or her newest outfit. Sometimes it made Beth sick to her stomach.
“We’re not such a bad bunch,” Jared said. “Not everybody travels in groups. There are a few of us Lone Rangers around.”
“You’re a Lone Ranger?”
He saluted. “Let’s just say I don’t hang out with any group of kids in particular. I like everybody, and I hang out with anybody I feel like.”
“You remind me of someone.”
“Who?”
“A boy back home.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“He’s a boy and he’s my friend. So I guess he’s my boyfriend. But no, not in the way you mean. His name’s Teddy and he lives—lived next door to me.”
“I had a friend where I used to live too. Her name was Kelly. But I did like her as a girlfriend.” Jared dropped his empty paper plate to the ground. “But what did I know? I was twelve.” He laughed. “And by now I’m sure she’s forgotten my name.”
“I won’t ever forget my friends,” Beth said with emotion.
“You don’t forget them, but they do sort of fade.”
She didn’t like the idea. If memories of her friends faded, what about memories of her family? “What about your real father? Has he faded away?”
“I miss him. My stepdad and I don’t get along real well.”
“I thought you liked everybody.”
“Everybody under age twenty.” He twisted toward her on the branch. “I wish I could see more of my real dad, but he’s not around. Still, it’s not like your situation.”
“Actually, I’ve sort of worked out a scenario about my situation,” she said. “I pretend that I’m only visiting my aunt and uncle and that my family is back home, all safe and happy. Sometimes it’s jus
t easier to pretend than it is to remember.”
“I do that myself. Especially after my stepdad and I have a blowup. I go in my room and think back to when Dad and Mom were still married. It wasn’t paradise, but I remember being happier when we were all together.”
“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be happy again.”
“Sure you will.” He slid off the branch, turned, and reached up for her. “Tell you what, I’ll make it my mission to see that you are.” He placed his hands firmly around her waist and pulled her down toward him.
“You don’t have to,” she said. They were so close, she could feel his breath on her cheek.
“I know.” He stepped back, bent, and picked up the plate he’d tossed down. “But no one should have to face entry into Westwood and Terri the Tattler without some sort of safety net.”
She laughed and was surprised at how good it felt to laugh again. “Thanks,” she told him.
“For what?”
“For making me laugh.”
He bowed from the waist. “It’s a Harrison specialty. Just ask any of my teachers. Want to go back to the party with me?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Then I’ll see you at school come Monday.”
“Sure,” she said. “Come Monday.” She watched him return to the patio alone.
“Where did you disappear to?” It was Terri’s first question when they arrived home from the party that night. “I looked for you everyplace to introduce you around.”
“I sort of hung out with a tree in the backyard.”
Terri stared at Beth as if she’d lost her mind. “You could have had a good time, you know. You didn’t have to hide.”
“I had an okay time.”
“I wanted to point out Jared Harrison to you.”
Beth’s head snapped up. “Why?”
A gooey smile spread over Terri’s face. “I have plans for him and me.”
“Plans?”
“Absolutely. I think he’s totally buff, and this year I intend to make him my guy. Count on it.”
10
The halls of Westwood were clogged with students returning for classes, and when the tardy bell rang, Beth was still lost in the halls where Terri had abandoned her. “Meet me at the front door at three-fifteen,” Terri had yelled before speeding away. Beth finally found her way to homeroom, where she received a reprimand from her teacher for being late. At lunch she sat by herself. She was poking at her meal halfheartedly when Jared Harrison plunked his lunch tray next to hers.
“Want some company?” he asked.
“Sit only if you want to face social ostracism.”
“Things can’t be that bad.”
She wanted to tell somebody how much she missed her friends—and her former life—but she couldn’t find the words. Plus, she was afraid she’d burst into tears and make a spectacle of herself. “Things are just different,” she wound up saying.
“Show me your class schedule. Maybe we’ll have a class together.” She showed him her card. “Sixth-period algebra.” He handed it back. “We can sit together.”
The knowledge calmed her. At least his was one friendly face. “If I survive until then.”
“You’ll make it. You have to. I don’t want to face Sheffield by myself.”
“Is she tough?”
He snorted. “You could say that.”
Beth’s heart sank. She was having trouble concentrating in classes already. How was she ever going to make it through a really rough one? “Maybe I could drop it.”
“What—and leave me to fight the Lion all by myself?”
He looked panicked, and it made her smile. “Okay—I’ll give it a try.”
The bell rang, and he stood. “I got to run. Literally. Phys ed next period. Nice to see you again, Beth.”
She ducked into the bathroom and brushed her long brown hair. Just seeing Jared had brightened her day considerably, and now she could look forward to seeing him again in class.
Behind her a bathroom stall door opened, and a girl’s image flashed in the mirror. She was about Beth’s height, but waif thin. Her short hair stood up in spikes in a bright shade of orange that matched her lipstick. A line of stud earrings followed the curve of each ear, and a nose ring jutted from one nostril. The girl wore a short denim skirt, a denim vest, and a black tank top. On her upper left arm, Beth saw a crude heart-shaped tattoo. The girl dropped a duffel bag to the floor and stepped up to the sink, where she bent and splashed water on her face. When she raised her head, she caught Beth’s gaze in the mirror and snarled, “Something bothering you?”
“Uh—no.”
“Then stop staring.”
Beth glanced away, but when the girl leaned closer to the mirror and tucked her nose ring into her nostril and out of sight, Beth gawked again.
“I told you to get out of my face!”
Beth didn’t need a second warning. She snatched up her books and ran from the bathroom and the belligerent, weird-looking girl.
In algebra class, Jared signaled to her from the back of the room, and she hurried to the seat he’d saved for her. She took copious notes when Mrs. Sheffield detailed what was expected, and only looked up when the final bell rang.
Jared waited while Beth gathered her things. “I’m exhausted from watching you take notes,” he said.
“I don’t want to get behind.”
“Catching the bus home?”
“Not today. Aunt Camille insisted on picking us up on the first day. We’re meeting out front.”
“Come on. I’ll walk with you.”
She felt less intimidated walking alongside Jared in the crowded, noisy halls. Once outside, she looked around for Terri. “Guess she’s late.”
“I’ll wait with you. Let’s sit.” A stone bench beneath a large tree offered shade from the hot afternoon sun. Cars and buses lined up in the loading zone. “Day one is over,” he said. “You’ll never have to go through it again.”
“I’ll remind myself of that tomorrow when I’m still lost wandering the halls.”
Just then a motorcycle roared around a waiting bus and screeched to a stop almost in front of the bench. A guy dressed in torn jeans and a black T-shirt balanced the sleek cycle and gunned the big engine. The girl with orange hair and an attitude flopped her duffel bag onto the seat, put on a helmet, and swung onto the bike behind the driver. He glanced over his shoulder once before revving the engine and speeding off. “Who’s she?” Beth asked.
“Sloane Alonso.”
“You know her?”
“Everybody knows Sloane.”
Beth made a face. “She’s scary.”
“She’s all right.”
“You like her?”
“I told you, I like everybody.”
“Really? She’s so different from the other kids I’ve met.”
“She’s got problems.”
“Such as?”
“Rotten home life. The worst. When things get really bad, she’s been known to bring a sleeping bag and crash here at the school.”
“You’re joking.” But Beth could tell by his expression that he wasn’t. “Where does she sleep?”
“Girls’ bathrooms, janitors’ closets, anyplace she can sneak into without getting caught.”
“And nobody knows? Not the principal, or a teacher?”
“Nobody knows and everybody knows, if you get my meaning. There are a lot of rumors. If she gets caught, she’ll be suspended.”
“Why doesn’t she just let somebody in authority know about her rotten home life?”
“ ’Cause she’d probably get sent to some foster home.”
“Seems like that would be better than living the way she does.”
“She doesn’t think so. Some of us help her out. We bring her food. Keep our mouths shut.”
Beth held her breath. Was he asking her not to tell anyone? “It’s none of my business.”
Jared grinned amiably. “I figured you for
the type to keep a secret. Not like your cousin.”
“What did Terri do to Sloane?”
“Ratted on her once. Got her into trouble. Terri didn’t have to, but she did. It really bummed a lot of us out.”
“Is that why kids don’t like Terri?”
Jared shrugged. “There are lots of things about Terri that put kids off. She carries around this ‘I’m better than you’ attitude. I don’t mean to slam her. I know she’s your cousin and all.”
“No problem.” Beth knew exactly what Jared meant. In the weeks she’d lived with Terri, Beth had felt no special affection for her cousin. Terri had an abrasive quality—not like Sloane’s, but like a thornbush that repelled closeness. “Do you feed Sloane?”
“Sure. It’s the least I can do for her.”
“Is that guy on the motorcycle her boyfriend?”
“I guess. He’s new from the one she had last school year. She always dates older guys. Mostly because they can drive.” He draped his elbows over the back of the bench. “Which is my main goal. I can’t wait until I can drive unrestricted.”
Her fifteenth birthday was in March, so she had a long time before she’d be sixteen and driving. A long time before she could return home on her own. “One day you’ll drive this baby to the mall without me,” her father had joked the day he’d brought the van home from the car lot. And she’d rolled her eyes and groaned, “No way! It’s ugly. If my friends see me in this, I’ll die!” Except that she hadn’t died. Her family had.
“Excuse me.” Jared snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Is it something I said, or do you just check out on people?”
“Sorry.” Embarrassed, she stood. She hadn’t expected to be blindsided by such an innocent memory.
Terri, rushing up, saved her from having to explain. “Sorry I’m late, but I got to talking—” She stopped abruptly when she saw Jared.
He rose and grabbed his books. “Catch you tomorrow.”
He walked away. Terri grabbed Beth’s arm. “All right, cousin. Just what do you think you’re doing?”
11
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Beth asked.