by Lari Smythe
* * *
I emerged from the wooded area along the creek behind the Whitaker place just as Jason's Jeep turned into the driveway. We met at the backdoor. He was sweaty, oozing testosterone from hanging out with the guys—very sexy.
Jason stepped away from me as I tried to snuggle up next to him. "Please, I reek."
"Not the word I would have chosen."
He opened the door and I followed him inside.
"Hey, kids," Mrs. Whitaker said. "Hope you're hungry."
"I'm starved," Jason said. "Definitely need to grab a shower first, though." He headed up the stairs.
"Half hour," Mrs. Whitaker called after him. "How about you Izzy, hungry?"
I shook my head. "Not so much, I think I'll just start my homework."
"You sure? I made plenty."
"Not tonight, but thanks though." I glanced up the stairs as the water started running. "Could I ask you a question?"
Mrs. Whitaker grabbed a dishtowel and wiped off her hands. "Sure."
I glanced up the stairs again.
"Don't worry, he'll use every bit of the half hour and probably then some."
"I know we don't really know each other all that well, but I'm kind of in the middle of rediscovering myself."
"Was your birth mother that different?"
"No, she was very similar to the Faulkners."
"Then the fact you were adopted?"
"I guess that has something to do with it, but it's more than that. Today, when I met with the principal—"
"How'd that go?"
"She was very gracious, and I want to thank you for the nice things you said about me. I know you were going out on a limb."
"Well, Jason is very sure about you."
I forced a smile. Obviously she wasn't. "Well, the whole Emo, black wardrobe thing was just to protect my privacy and now, well, now I don't know."
"About your privacy? I put you in the guest room so you would have—"
"No, no, that's not it. I—well—I'm not sure how to dress. Jason alluded to the fact that I dress, 'Plain Jane'."
"Ah, that boy, we raised him better than that, I promise you."
"He kind of has a point," I said, with half a curtsy.
"Well," she said, stepping back to get a better perspective. "You're certainly an attractive young lady. I bet there are a lot of girls that would die for your figure—you're what, maybe a size 0?"
"Something like that."
"Well, that's going to limit your shopping options. Not every place will carry a size that small. I'm afraid I can't help much on the style front. When I see the girls they're dressed for Sunday service and I'm sure they dress differently for school. This is our first year on the East Coast and it's quite different than California. If I were you, I would take a look around at the girls in school and see if there's anything in particular that you like. You don't want to copy what someone is wearing, but you can get an idea of what appeals to you."
"That makes sense. I don't know why I didn't think of that. Thanks."
"Oh, just a minute." Mrs. Whitaker said, walking over to the counter near the phone. She fumbled through a stack of newspapers and magazines. "Here you go, maybe the Penny's after Christmas sale catalog will help with some ideas."
Just then the water upstairs shut off.
"Well, I'll let you finish getting supper ready. Thanks again." I started for my room.
"Izzy," Mrs. Whitaker called after me. "Mind if I say something?"
"No, of course not."
"Well, you're a very attractive young lady—very petite—but I've noticed you barely eat."
"I just have a special diet."
"Izzy, I know there's a lot of pressure to be attractive, but you have to eat—it's not healthy—"
"I do, honest."
"You said you had a special diet. If you let me know, I'm sure I can prepare anything you would like—I'm quite a good cook if I don't say so myself."
I held back a laugh—sure, could you slaughter a dear for me? Not! "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks." I retired to my room before Jason came back downstairs.
