Page 12 of Second Chances


  “They are,” said Caroline.

  “Middle school is …” started Ms. Opeline. “Well, actually, the world is full of bullies. But being mean never earns you friends, only enemies. I think that’s a hard lesson, don’t you?”

  Caroline nodded.

  “I’m still here,” said Ms. Opeline. “If you ever want to talk.”

  Caroline paused and turned back. “I know,” she said. “And thank you.”

  “Who’s that?” asked Aria once they were outside.

  “Ms. Opeline, the school counselor.”

  “Do you ever talk to her?” asked Aria.

  “I don’t need to talk to her. I have you.”

  Aria hesitated. “Caroline,” she said slowly, “I won’t be here forever. You know that, right?” Caroline’s gaze dropped to the floor. She hadn’t thought about it. Hadn’t wanted to. “I told you in the tree house,” pressed Aria. “I’ll be here until your smoke clears and you don’t need me anymore. But then I have to go.”

  “Why?” asked Caroline. “Why not stay?”

  “I don’t have a life here,” said Aria. “I don’t have a family. I have a mission. And once it’s over, I have to move on. Just like you do, with your new life. We both have to keep moving forward. But promise me,” added Aria, “that if things get hard after I’m gone, you’ll talk to Ms. Opeline, or your mom, or your sister, or someone. Okay?”

  Caroline nodded.

  “And hey,” said Aria, slinging her arm around Caroline’s shoulders. “I’m not gone yet. I have to see what this dance thing is all about.”

  “Keep your eyes closed.”

  Aria was sitting on Caroline’s bed, and Caroline was putting her hair into a French braid for the dance. Aria was excited to see what it would look like.

  “There,” said Caroline when she was done. “What do you think?”

  Aria blinked, looked at herself in the mirror, and beamed.

  “It’s like I’m someone else,” she said.

  Caroline smiled. “It’s just hair.”

  “Where did you learn to do that?”

  Caroline shrugged. “My sister taught me.”

  “Oh,” said Aria.

  “Here,” said Caroline. “I’ll show you how.”

  She started to take the braid apart, but Aria stopped her. “No,” she said. “Leave it like this. It’s perfect.”

  Caroline’s own hair fell in loose blond waves down her back. Aria thought she looked beautiful in her blue dress.

  “What are you going to wear?” Caroline asked.

  Aria looked down at her school uniform. She snapped her fingers, and the plaid skirt and polo shimmered and shifted and transformed into a yellow skirt, a red shirt, and a pair of bright blue leggings. Her shoelaces turned violet, and Aria smiled proudly at her handiwork.

  Caroline laughed. “You can’t wear that.”

  “Why not?” asked Aria.

  “You kind of look like a walking rainbow.”

  Aria shrugged. “I like rainbows,” she said.

  Caroline giggled. “Never mind,” she said. “You look like you.”

  “Caroline,” her mom called up, sounding happy. “Your friends are here.”

  Ginny and Elle were waiting on the porch. They met up with Renée and Amanda, and then they all went out for pizza, which Aria quickly decided was her new favorite food.

  When they got to the gym, Aria was amazed by how the massive room had changed, transformed from wood and bleachers into a giant stretch of sky. Bundles of white balloons were everywhere, and painted clouds hung from every rafter. Streamers in sunset colors ran back and forth overhead. Aria loved it.

  The gym was full of Westgate girls and Eastgate boys. Elle, Ginny, Renée, and Amanda immediately started dancing. Aria wanted to join in but she noticed Caroline looking around, her expression a little tense, her thin blue smoke swirling. Aria knew she was looking for Lily.

  Then Erica and Whitney strolled in, arm in arm, followed by Jessabel. The three of them were wearing matching pink dresses.

  And Lily wasn’t with them.

  “Where’s Lily?” asked a girl with shiny black hair as the trio passed her by.

  Whitney giggled. “Probably still waiting for us.”

  Erica shrugged and said, “She couldn’t keep up, so she got left behind.”

  “About time,” said Jessabel. Together, the three girls strode onto the dance floor.

  Aria sighed. She needed to leave, and she was about to make an excuse, when Caroline beat her to it.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go find Lily.”

  Aria’s shadow put them out across the street from Lily’s house, under the branches of the tree house tree. Lily was sitting on the front porch, her knees pulled up to her chest. She was wearing a purple dress, and picking at the hem while tears streamed down her face.

  Aria stayed behind — far enough to give them space, close enough to hear — as Caroline crossed the yard, made her way up the front steps, and sat down beside her ex-best friend.

  When Lily saw Caroline, her thick smoke began to ripple.

  “Are you happy now?” muttered Lily.

  “No,” said Caroline.

  “Did you come here to gloat? To rub it in my face? Congratulations, Caroline Mason, you’re popular and I’m not.”

  “That’s not why I came. I wanted to see if you were okay.”

  “Why do you still care?”

  Caroline sighed and pulled her knees up. “I never stopped caring, Lily. Even when you were horrible.”

  Lily wiped her face with the back of her hand. “You said you didn’t want to be friends with me.”

  “I don’t,” said Caroline. “I don’t know if we can be friends again. But you still matter to me. You always will.”

  Caroline dug her hand into her skirt and pulled out the silver half circle necklace. Lily’s eyes widened, and then she pulled her own pendant from beneath the collar of her dress.

  “I’m sorry, Car,” Lily whispered. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. None of it was.”

  “But it is,” said Caroline. “So what are you going to do now?”

  Lily shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Caroline stood up, and put the necklace back in her pocket. “Come to the dance,” she said.

  “I can’t,” said Lily.

  Caroline crouched down to look Lily in the eyes. “Why not? Because they hurt your feelings?” She shook her head. “If you don’t go, you’re letting them win,” she said. “Besides, we spent all that time painting clouds. Don’t you want to see them? They look amazing.”

  Caroline straightened and held out her hand. “Come on, Lily.”

  Lily looked up. Then she reached out, and took Caroline’s hand.

  As she did, her smoke finally began to thin.

  Aria smiled. She knew it. Lily didn’t need her help. She needed Caroline’s.

  “But how are we going to get to the dance?” asked Lily, looking around. Her parents didn’t seem to be home, and Caroline’s already thought she was at the dance.

  Aria stepped forward. “I have a way,” she said. “But there’s something I should probably tell you first.”

  Aria wasn’t sure Lily believed her, even after the trip through her shadow door to the school.

  “How — how — how did you do that?” stammered Lily, as the three girls stepped out of the light-filled shape and onto the path in front of the gym.

  “I told you,” said Aria for the fifteenth time. “Guardian angel.”

  “No way,” said Lily for the fifteenth time.

  “Way,” said Aria.

  “Way,” said Caroline.

  Lily looked up at the gym. Fear flickered across her face, and what was left of her smoke coiled nervously around her shoulders. But Caroline took her hand and gave it a small squeeze.

  “Come on,” she said. “There are some pretty cool girls at this school. I’ll help you meet a few.”

  Aria followed Caroli
ne and Lily up the stairs, watching as the blue smoke around them got thinner, and thinner, and thinner. By the time the two girls stepped into the gym, it was totally gone.

  Aria felt something cool on her wrist, and looked down to see a new feather charm twinkling on her bracelet. It was actually two feathers, linked together on the interlocking rings. When Aria shook her wrist, the charms jingled faintly, like far-off bells.

  There was only one ring left to fill, and she could feel it tugging at her. This was her least favorite part. Even though she knew she’d done her job and made Caroline and Lily better, and all of that made her happy, that also meant it was over.

  It was an ending, and endings were always sad.

  But they were just as important as beginnings. And somewhere else, another girl was waiting for Aria’s help.

  So Aria watched Caroline and Lily slip into the crowd of the dance.

  And then her shadow flared, and she stepped backward, into the light.

  Although Caroline had a nice time at the dance, she kept looking for Aria, afraid that she had left without saying good-bye. As soon as the dance was over, Caroline hurried home, and sighed with relief when she found Aria sitting in the tree house, legs dangling over the open window edge.

  “There you are,” said Caroline, breathless from climbing up the ladder. “Why did you leave the dance?”

  Aria swung her legs back inside. “Because it was time,” she said.

  “It wasn’t even eight. There was still an hour left.”

  Aria shook her head. “That’s not what I meant,” she said. “How was the dance?”

  Caroline smiled. “It was good. Ginny and Elle weren’t too thrilled to see Lily, but they were polite to her. And I wish you’d stayed to see Erica’s face …”

  She trailed off, and a silence fell between them.

  “Caroline,” said Aria, “it’s time for me to go.”

  “Go where?”

  Aria held up the bracelet so she could see the newest feather charm. Caroline paled. “Stay,” she pleaded. “Everything is so much better with you here.”

  “You don’t need me anymore,” said Aria. “And we all have to move forward.”

  Caroline felt her chest tighten. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

  Aria smiled. “I promise I’ll try. But only if you promise me something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That you’ll never go back. Not to the way things were. Mean is easier than nice, and I know it’s hard, and it’ll only get harder, but promise me if you’re ever faced with being a bully or a nobody again, you won’t choose bully.”

  Caroline smiled. “You act like those are the only two options,” she said, echoing Aria’s own words.

  Aria beamed, and threw her arms around Caroline.

  “So, where are you going?” asked Caroline when she pulled away.

  Aria shook her head. “I won’t know until I get there.”

  “Caroline?” called a voice from the street. It was Lily.

  “You’d better go,” said Aria. “So should I.”

  Aria smiled and snapped her fingers, and the cushions, the star lights, and all the little decorations she’d summoned to make the small space cozy disappeared. She and Caroline stood there a moment, two girls in an empty wooden box up in the branches of an old oak tree.

  Caroline saw Aria’s shadow fidget beneath her feet.

  “All right,” said Aria. “All right.”

  She tapped her shoe, and the shadow turned on like a light.

  “Good-bye, Caroline,” she said.

  “Good-bye-for-now,” corrected Caroline.

  Aria smiled, and nodded, and disappeared.

  Caroline snuck back to the tree house later that night, after everyone was in bed.

  She climbed the ladder, half expecting, fully hoping to find Aria there again, sitting in a sea of pillows.

  But Aria was gone. She’d watched her go.

  Caroline sat cross-legged on the floor. Even though Aria and her decorations were gone, Caroline still felt as if she was there, somehow. She couldn’t explain it. She looked up through the branches at the twinkling stars.

  “Things are going to get better,” she said aloud, as if Aria could hear her. Maybe she could. Caroline still didn’t know exactly how guardian angels worked.

  “After you left,” she went on, “Lily and I went out to the trampoline, and we just talked. Finally. About everything. About the last month and the last year and how it all got out of hand. And she said she was going to talk to her mom, about all the pressure she was putting on her. I hope Mrs. Pierce listens. I told Lily she could always talk to Ms. Opeline, too.” Caroline sighed. “I don’t think she and I can ever be best friends again, not the way we were before. I know we can’t go back. But I hope we can go forward. All things go forward, right?” she said, remembering Aria’s words. “It’s science.”

  Caroline got to her feet and was about to go, when she noticed the photo of her and Lily. It had slipped to the floor, but when she picked it up, she saw that the blue lines Aria had drawn around them were gone. Instead, a small blue stick figure of a curly-haired girl was drawn between them, with her arms wrapped around both.

  Caroline broke into a smile, pocketed the picture, and went home.

  Aria came back one day at lunch.

  Caroline didn’t know it. She was sitting at Table 2, with Elle on one side and Ginny on the other. Jen, who was in the science club with Caroline, was sitting across from them, and they were all talking about a movie they had seen.

  Caroline wasn’t at the center of the universe, but she had an orbit. And she seemed genuinely happy.

  Aria watched as she twisted in her seat and started talking to a girl at the table behind her. A girl with black curls and pale skin and a pretty smile. Aria noticed that for once, Lily’s smile wasn’t fake or forced. She and Caroline leaned their heads together and shared a secret, a comment, a joke, and then they turned back to their separate tables, separate lives.

  Over at Table 7, Erica threw her head back and gave a sharp laugh, and shot a dirty look at another girl across the room. Whitney and Jessabel mimicked her.

  Some things didn’t change.

  There would always be an Erica or a Jessabel or a Whitney, girls who wanted to be on top, and would do anything to get there. But for every one of them there was a Ginny, or an Elle, or a Caroline.

  Girls who found a way to be themselves.

  Aria stood there watching until the bell rang and the girls put away their trays and filed off to class. She followed behind Caroline, a small pang of sadness in her chest. If she were still here, they’d be going to science class together. Instead, Caroline had her arm looped through Jen’s. But once, Caroline glanced back, and Aria wondered if she could feel her there, trailing like a shadow, or if she was just remembering.

  Caroline disappeared into the classroom. As the door swung shut, Aria reached out and brought her fingers thoughtfully to the wood. Her hand fell away, and she smiled at her handiwork.

  The classroom door was now covered in stars. Just a little something for Caroline to see when class was over.

  Aria’s shadow fidgeted at her feet. All right, Aria thought. She didn’t belong here anymore.

  She still had work to do.

  The shadow took shape on the curb outside.

  It grew out of nothing, tucked in the dark between two streetlights, so no one saw it happen. No one saw the trace of wings above the shadow’s shoulders, and no one saw a twelve-year-old girl with red hair and a blue charm bracelet rise out of the pool of light.

  No one saw Aria step out of nothing and into the world, but there she was. In a new place for the third time.

  The last time.

  Aria felt a flurry of excitement. One more girl, one more mission, and she would have her wings.

  She exhaled, her breath making a cloud in front of her. How strange. It was much colder here than the last place she’d been, and she shivered a
nd pulled her coat close around her before she even realized she was wearing a coat.

  Once again, Aria had no idea where she was.

  In the distance there was a cluster of tall buildings. From here, they looked small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, but she could tell they must be very, very large. A city.

  And then she heard music. It was coming from the building to Aria’s right. Its marquee announced that the Northeast Division Regional Championship — whatever that was — was going on inside. Aria smiled; she could tell that this was where she was supposed to be.

  The lobby was crowded, boys and girls hurrying around in strange and wonderful costumes. They wore glitter and make-up and gossamer, but no one was marked by blue smoke.

  The music was coming from an auditorium, and Aria nudged the door open and slid inside.

  Onstage, a blonde girl in a green dress was dancing. She was tall and pretty, and her motions were elegant in a practiced way. Aria watched her leap and turn across the stage, landing in a pose just as the music ended. A panel of judges at a table in the front row scribbled on their papers.

  And then the crowd grew quiet, and Aria’s gaze drifted back to the stage, and she saw her.

  The girl padded to the center of the stage in silence. She was pretty, her dark skin dusted with gold and her black hair pulled back into a bun. She was dressed in a shimmering gold leotard with a simple gold frill of skirt, and she glittered from head to toe beneath the bright light.

  The only thing that didn’t match her outfit was the ribbon of blue smoke coiling around her shoulders.

  VICTORIA SCHWAB is the acclaimed author of several novels for young adults and adults, including The Archived and Vicious. Everyday Angel is her first series for middle grade readers. Victoria lives in Nashville, but she can often be found haunting Paris streets and trudging up English hillsides. Usually, she’s tucked in the corner of a coffee shop, dreaming up stories. Visit her online at www.victoriaschwab.com.