“Whatever. I’m still gonna ask him.” Megan sits there sulking for a few minutes, and then seems to get her second wind. “Well, it’s not over, you know! Just because they took away my petition doesn’t mean I’m letting it go!”
I can’t believe her, because getting called to the principal’s office would be enough to scare most kids— including me— into compliance. Annabeth is right— if Megan has her mind made up, nothing and nobody can change it.
I try a new approach. “Spring break is in a couple of weeks. Got any plans?”
Megan looks annoyed and I know she’s about to tell me I can’t distract her that easily, but she sighs dramatically before answering. “Sort of. My dad and step-monster are taking me with them for a trip to Vegas. I’m gonna shop and soak up some rays, maybe even see one of those shows they let kids into.”
Megan is clearly looking forward to her upcoming vacation, but I instantly know her parents have their own plans for that trip and Megan’s invitation to join them is an afterthought, or guilt, or both. An image of Megan watching TV by herself in an expensive hotel room while her dad and stepmom are out on the town flashes into my mind. I’m beginning to understand Megan’s need to grab attention any way she can.
“What about you?” she asks me, taking a bite of her sandwich. “Any plans?”
“Nothing much. Just work in the store, maybe hang out at the mall or see a movie or something.”
The truth is that I have absolutely no plans for the week-long break, since most of my friends will be out of town. I wish I could afford a plane ticket to go visit Dad, but Mom says that trip will have to wait till summer when she’s saved up enough money to pay for it.
We eat in silence for a while. Near the end of the lunch period, Emma comes and sits down with us, a glum look on her face as well.
“So why did you get called to the principal’s office?” I ask her.
Emma scowls. “Mr. MacGregor saw my name near the top of Megan’s petition. He said I’m supposed to be a role model to other kids, or something like that. He said he has bigger plans for me.”
I gulp. I already know what those bigger plans are, but I manage to keep my mouth shut for once. I try another bite of my pizza, but it’s ice cold now.
Just when I think we’re going to get away from lunch without any more dress code talk, Salissa speaks up from the far end of the lunch table.
“Hey, Megan,” she calls out, “what’s Plan B?”
Megan narrows her eyes and nods. “I’m working on it.”
“Come on, Megan, let it go,” I plead. “Nothing good can come of this, I promise you. I mean, really promise you. Besides, you’re the only one who thinks we might have to wear uniforms. Principal MacGregor never said— ”
Megan slaps her drink down. “If you can’t support me, Caryn, then stay out of my way!”
After that remark, I gladly pick up my tray as the bell rings, toss my trash and leave for art class. Maybe the whole uniform thing will blow over during spring break and Megan won’t get herself into deeper trouble.
“No such luck,” Uncle Omar whispers in my ear.
I groan and head for class.
I take my sweet time getting to Mom’s store after school. I have a lot on my mind and I need time to think things through. And anyway the sun is out and it’s warmer than it was this morning. I wonder if Uncle Omar is around to offer me any advice. Now that I’m getting used to him just suddenly appearing, it doesn’t seem so weird to ask his opinion about stuff. Unfortunately I haven’t heard anything from him since lunch.
I guess I have to puzzle this all out for myself— Megan’s determination to challenge the school administrators, Kensi’s cheating heart, Quince’s anger at her, Quince’s coldness to me. It’s all too much to sort through, so I decide to stall and do some window shopping on my way.
I peek into Peterson’s to see if anyone is in there, and even though the place is as full as ever, none of my friends are there today. I could’ve used the distraction of kids and their normal high school angst, but it’s not to be.
Problem is, I can’t quite put my finger on what’s bothering me so much. Is it Quince? Megan? Uncle Omar’s cryptic remarks? It’s giving me a headache.
The sun is shining brightly and all I really want to do is stay outside and enjoy it, but I promised Mom. Reluctantly I walk into the shop, the door bell jangling as I enter. I toss my book bag behind the counter, and look around for something to do to take my mind off things. Sybil isn’t around. Mom is over by the book rack, showing a rather attractive older gentleman (okay, about her age) a few copies of something or other. She looks up and smiles at me.
I lean over the counter and grin at her, sensing her attraction to the man, and then realize I really should do the dusting, since my sweater is covered in dust bunnies when I stand up. Before I even get two steps in the direction of the backroom and the feather duster, though, I hear the front door jangle and turn to see Quince walking in.
“Hi!” Boy, am I surprised.
“Hi, yourself. I owe you an apology.” The frown on Quince’s face says he’s still in a bad mood, but he sounds contrite.
“You do?” My palms begin to sweat. True, he cut me off this morning when I tried to talk to him, but I didn’t expect an apology.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about the way I talked to you this morning, like it was your fault or something. I was just really mad. Seeing Kensi with that other guy and all.” He looks down at the floor, pretending to scrape something off his shoe. “You tried to tell me about Kensi before and I wouldn’t listen.”
I grasp the edge of the counter to keep myself from jumping across to hug him. “I’m sorry you had to find out like that— seeing her in that college guy’s car.”
“College guy?” Quince’s eyebrow shoots up and I hope he lets that one pass, because I don’t want to talk about how I know that.
I clear my throat. “I just thought you should know what kind of girl Kensi really is.”
He doesn’t say anything for quite a while, and I wonder if he’s still mad at me. “You were just being straight with me, Caryn, which is what friends do. Sorry I went off on you.”
Friends? He said we’re friends! I’m so happy I want to do a little dance, but he’s standing here looking at me all serious and stuff, so I force myself to contain my enthusiasm. “Quince, you know you can always count on me.”
“It’s kind of funny if you think about it,” he says, but he doesn’t look amused. “I had a feeling for a long time that she just wasn’t into me as much, but I wouldn’t admit it. Nothing like finding out the hard way.”
I so want to reach out and squeeze his hand, but I resist the urge. “Yeah, that’s gotta hurt.”
Quince shrugs, then zips up his jacket, pulls the hoodie up, and gives me a wide grin.
“Well, I need to go. Baseball practice, and Coach’ll have me running extra laps if I’m late.”
“I’m glad you came by, Quince. See you tomorrow?” All right, I know I’ll see him at school, but what I’m really hoping is that I’ll see him AFTER school— like for coffee or something, and not just in a group of kids.
Quince nods, hesitating. “Uh, Caryn… ”
My heart is pounding, hoping my wish is about to be granted. Now that Kensi is out of the way…
“This morning you said something and I cut you off.” He’s frowning again, rubbing a finger across his lower lip.
Yes! Of course! I’d love to go to Peterson’s with you after school tomorrow.
“You know, about my trip to the dentist.”
The dentist. Oh yeah. Back to Earth. “Right. The dentist.” Wake up, Caryn. He said we’re FRIENDS, not a couple.
I try to look casual, which isn’t easy with my pulse racing and my imagination on overdrive. I swallow hard. “I was going to say you won’t look like a dork, because you’re getting those invisible kind of braces.”
Quince shrugs and shakes his head. “I think my original word was ‘
geek,’ and I don’t get how you know that stuff, but that’s a relief anyway.” He winks at me as he leaves.
I close the door after him and think about our conversation. Maybe Quince didn’t mean to ask me a psychic question— even in a roundabout way— but he didn’t make fun of me this time either. Maybe he’s ready to accept the real me, warts and all!
Mom has a funny smile on her face as she brings the man she’s been chatting with to the register to ring up his purchase. She takes a little too long handing him his change and giving him her business card, and then walks him to the door. As for me, I practically dance to the back room, grab the feather duster, and proceed to dust the counters with vigor. It seems the Universe has brought both of us interesting conversations with attractive men.
The next day Kensi’s name is on the school’s cut list, which means she has to report to the dean’s office first thing in the morning. I figure she’ll be suspended from school for a few days, Quince will have time to cool down, and I won’t have to look at her smug face in first period.
But no-o-o-o, that girl lives a charmed life. Kensi is back in class in record time, smiling as she hands her pass to Mrs. York. She then triumphantly crosses the room to her seat by the window, and casually turns her back on the teacher to begin a conversation with Salissa that they take no pains to keep private.
“I thought you’d be suspended,” Salissa says in a too-loud whisper.
“Me? No way. I just told the dean that my brother came to pick me up because I had female problems. He turned all kinds of red, wrote me the pass, and here I am!” Kensi shakes her hair back with a laugh.
“You don’t have a brother,” I mutter.
“Did you say something, Caryn?” Mrs. York asks.
“Uh, no, sorry.”
But it really makes me angry that Kensi cut school, lied about it, AND got away with both. She has such a self-satisfied look on her face I want to scream!
The class is whispering among themselves about Kensi’s nerve, when Mrs. York briskly gets everyone back on task.
“Ladies and gentlemen, today we’re beginning our study of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Let’s examine women’s roles in the nineteenth century. Shall we open our books?”
Gladly.
I’d much rather talk about Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy than think one more minute about Kensington Marlow and her flavor-of-the-month boyfriend. I steal a glance over at Quince as he pretends to listen to the teacher, but I know he’s really brooding about Kensi. My heart goes out to him, and naturally I wish I could be the one to ease his hurt feelings.
No one in class, except maybe Harris, is paying very much attention to Mrs. York. Megan is intently sketching something in her journal, Kevin is “reading” Pride and Prejudice propped up on his desk with a baseball statistics book hidden inside it, while Emma doodles his name dreamily on her notebook. Deana’s asleep as usual, Janae is staring out the window, and Salissa and Kensi still have their heads together giggling and whispering.
I sigh. One more week till spring break.
The Friday before spring vacation, Quince catches up to me in the hall before first period.
“Hey Caryn! Wait up!”
Ever since our conversation at the store, Quince has actually started acting like we’re friends, just as he said. He talks to me in classes and in the halls during passing periods, and sometimes we don’t only talk about school stuff, but about other things we have in common. Like baseball— we found a connection in our mutual love of the sport.
“Hi, Quince!” I smooth out my hair, which is curled and hanging loose around my shoulders, and hope he notices I took pains with my appearance this morning.
His baby blue eyes are sparkling and I can barely breathe. “Hey, how ‘bout those Astros! Did you see the game on ESPN?”
“Yeah. Oswalt pitched a no-hitter!” I exclaim.
“It was amazing! Hey, I was wondering, since you’re such a baseball fan and all, if you’re planning to come to our game tonight. Turnout’s been kinda light the last few games, and Coach says to bring our friends.”
I haven’t been to any of Rosslyn High’s baseball games yet, since in my opinion late March is still too chilly to be outdoors, but this is Quince asking.
“Sure, I’d like that,” I say, hoping he can’t hear how loud my heart is pounding. “What time?”
“Six. Stop at the dugout and say hi!” And with a wave, he’s gone.
Well, by the time my pulse returns to normal, I realize the tardy bell has rung and I just hope Mrs. York lets me into class without a pass.
Quince invited me to his game!
Maybe spring break won’t be so boring after all.
Chapter 11
Spring Is Breaking
With the exception of that Friday night Wrangler’s baseball game (which we won by a score of 5-4), my spring break is a bust. As eager as I was for it to start, I’m more than ready for it to be over.
Megan is in Las Vegas, just like she said. She called me late one night our time, although it was early evening in Nevada, to tell me she was watching pay-per-view in the hotel room and waiting on room service, since her dad and stepmother were in the casino with friends. I sighed, sorry my earlier vision had been right.
All my other friends are gone too. Quince is on the beach in Florida with his family, Emma is spending every waking minute at the mall, Ashleigh is taking special violin lessons in Chicago, and Annabeth’s school break isn’t until next week. Except for sleeping later in the mornings, my routine hasn’t changed one bit. There are only two days left till school resumes, and I haven’t done anything except watch old sitcoms and movies.
It’s Friday evening and Mom has just come home from work grinning like she has some huge secret. I try to get a read on it, but for some reason I can’t pick up anything. She waltzes into the apartment, humming a tune as she glides into the kitchen and begins rummaging around in the fridge for something to cook for supper.
“Why are you so cheerful?” I throw myself onto the sofa and reach for the TV remote.
“No reason,” she answers.
I guess it isn’t cool to call your mother a liar, but I know she’s holding something back. As I sit there trying to puzzle out what she’s up to, she calls out to me from the kitchen. “Is spaghetti okay for dinner tonight? And, Caryn, dear, answer the phone!”
What? Answer the phone? That’s MY trick!
And even though it doesn’t feel like the phone is about to ring, sure enough it does about five minutes later.
“Hey! No fair! How’d you know that?”
“It’s for you, and you’re not psychic about yourself, remember? Now answer it before the machine picks up.”
I’m really puzzled. “Hello?”
“Hey, Caryn, it’s Annabeth. What’s up?” Annabeth sounds bubbly and a little giggly.
“Hey, Annabeth, what’s up?” Annabeth always seems to appear just when I need her most. But what I can’t figure out is how my mom knew she was going to call.
“Are you doing anything tonight?”
“Well, no, just having dinner with my mom,” I say, and hear a snicker from the kitchen.
“What if I come over and pick you up and you spend the night at my house? Say eight o’clock?”
“You got your new car!” I shout that out almost at the instant I flash on a picture of her dad handing her the keys to it.
“Darn it, Caryn, you’re such a killjoy.” I can almost see Annabeth rolling her eyes, one hand propped on her hip. “I can’t get anything by you.”
“No, really, I am surprised.”
“Uh-huh,” she says.
“Well, then, I’m happy for you,” I say, trying not to laugh at her annoyed tone. “And sure. Eight would be fine.”
As I hang up I see Mom giving me the thumbs-up sign. I grin back at her, having figured out already that she’s in on this. After dinner I pack a few overnight things in my backpack and go out front of the apartment com
plex to wait for Annabeth.
It’s a lovely evening in early April. Sunset comes later now, and there’s a warm, gentle breeze blowing that gives me a fuzzy, nostalgic feeling as I sit on the front steps. I think of Houston this time of year, how warm it is, flowers in full bloom, and remember taking long after-dinner walks with my dad. I wonder what he’s doing right now.
I don’t have too much time to dwell on it, though, because Annabeth pulls up in her brand new compact car— one of those hybrids that’s supposed to get such great gas mileage— and honks the horn.
“Wow! Is this cool or what?” I open the passenger door and slide in, tossing my backpack on the floor between my feet.
“Sure is,” she says, shifting into gear. “My parents bought it for me last week after— ”
“— you made Honor Roll!”
Annabeth blushes. “Yeah, like you told me New Year’s Eve. And no ‘I told you so’s,’ okay? So do you like it?”
What’s not to like? It has leather seats, GPS, CD player, Onstar— in fact everything a rich girl from the suburbs is expected to have.
“It’s really nice.” Okay, I admit it, I’m envious, but I try to sound enthusiastic.
“Come on, Caryn, don’t go all weird on me.” Annabeth makes a scowly-face and I can’t help laughing. “Anyway, I can’t wait for you to meet my folks. Ready?”
I fasten my seatbelt and off we go, windows rolled down to catch the breeze, CD blaring. I’ve never been to Belford, even though it’s just over the county line, and I’m amazed at the change in scenery in a mere thirty minute drive from Rosslyn Village to the wealthy suburbs. Don’t get me wrong— I’ve seen big houses before. They’ve got them in spades in Houston, but it’s just that I never knew anyone who lived in one. And boy does Annabeth live in a big house! We pull into her driveway and she parks the car behind a late-model Lexus, which is parked next to a Mercedes convertible.
A picture pops into my head of a house a lot like this one in a nearby neighborhood, and I realize it’s the house Megan used to live in. I can see Megan swimming in the backyard pool, running through the half-acre yard playing tag with her sisters, and a whole extra outdoor kitchen in the backyard for entertaining. I now understand what a culture shock it must have been for her to move from one of these sprawling mansions to their little home in Rosslyn Village.
Confessions of a Teenage Psychic Page 14
