by E. C. Newman
The looks on my classmates’ faces when I walked in with Ezra was almost worth the throbbing pain I was feeling. Or maybe that’s why they were looking.
* * *
I’d gotten bombarded with questions from classmates all afternoon. Connie and Mary-Beth, the two girls I always sat with at lunch, asked me all kinds of details. Despite my explanation, they seemed to think it was Juliet’s fault. I often wondered why I considered them friends. I never saw them out of school.
I saw Juliet by her locker after final period. “So, are we still studying?” I asked. “Might be easier if you rode with me.”
She scoffed. “Are your parents OK with you driving around a juvenile delinquent?”
I nodded. “I talked to Dad. And you’re not a juvenile delinquent.”
Her eyes widened and she shut her locker. “No kiddin’? Wow. Yeah, we have to study, right?”
She was talking. A lot. For her.
“Yep.” I touched the side of my face again and winced as we headed toward the doors that led to freedom.
“Hurt?”
I nodded. “What about your hands?”
She lifted them, regarding them like she’d forgotten. “Had worse.”
I really wanted to ask her about that. But I didn’t. As we walked toward my car, Ezra approached us. Juliet stiffened.
He didn’t seem surprised to see me with her. “So…you get suspended?” he asked Juliet.
She shook her head. “I get a grace period.” She rolled her eyes. “But if it happens again…blah, blah, blah.”
“Yeah. Summer’s, well, about as self-involved as you can get.”
Juliet almost smiled. “I have to go study with Sophie. For class.”
His eyebrows rose. “Really? I can’t come into town later to pick you up.”
“So I’ll sleep over.”
“Um, it’s a school night,” I said.
The two of them looked at me.
“I could ask.” Man, was that lame.
“Don’t you need clothes…?” Ezra gestured without continuing.
“I’ll borrow hers,” Juliet said.
I laughed, and again they both stared at me. I recognized the expression from other classmates. It was “are you for real?” or some variation. “Sorry, but you won’t fit my clothes.” I had “birthin’ hips,” as Mom liked to say. And I liked food. I’d never be skinny a day in my life.
Ezra sighed heavily. “I can come back to town.”
“I’ll drive her out,” I said.
“You sure?”
“Yes, sir.” I saluted him smartly.
Both he and Juliet gave me yet another odd gaze. They were becoming quite common, but… I saluted him? What in the world was wrong with me?
“OK,” Ezra said slowly. “Thanks.” He backed up and jogged to his car. I watched him leave, feeling all kinds of moronic.
“Are we going?” Juliet’s voice snapped me back into reality.
When we got home, Mom was waiting with her eyes nearly into little slits, a sure sign she was mad.
“Um, you can head up to my room. I’ll be up soon to start studying,” I told Juliet.
She nodded. “Hi, Mrs. Todd.”
“Juliet.”
Juliet headed upstairs.
“Did Dad call you?” I asked Mom when Juliet was out of earshot.
She nodded, reaching out to grab my chin and peered at what was probably the beginning of a bruise. “Are you OK?”
“Never thought I’d ever be in a fight, did you?”
She smiled wearily. “It definitely was not on my list of mom worries.”
I hugged her. “Thanks for being nice to her.”
She kissed the top of my head and let go of me. “I’ll holler later for you to set the table.”
I headed up the stairs to my room. It wasn’t big, but with loads of bookshelves, a desk, and my bed, I loved it.
Juliet jerked immediately away from my bookshelf when I walked in, but I saw the longing flash in her eyes. At least I thought I did.
That’s why I said, “You can borrow any if you want.”
Her head turned, a blur of motion before her pale blue eyes pierced mine so deeply that I took a step back. “Aren’t you afraid I’d do something to it?” Loads of bitterness in her voice.
Maybe, but I shrugged. “Books can be replaced, and you seem to like books a lot. You know what they can mean to someone. And if you did do something, why would I let you borrow any more? So, you’d just be shooting yourself in the foot.”
She blinked once. “Good point.”
I smiled, feeling it more than I usually did around her. “So, should we start? Dinner’s not for another hour and a half. You hungry? I could grab an apple or something.”
She snorted and plopped on my floor with her bag. “I’m always hungry, but I’m good.”
That’s one thing we have in common. I sat at my desk and pulled out my books. I tossed my Geography book on the floor, then got up to look through my CDs. “What kind of music do you like to study to?” I asked, running my fingers over the plastic cases.
“I dunno.” She watched me for a second. “Whatever.”
“I like mellow stuff. When I study. Instrumental. So my brain can think.”
“You like instrumental?” Her disbelief was evident in her scrunched up face. “Weird.”
I shrugged. It was an accepted fact that I was weird. At least to me. I pulled out a mix I’d made on my computer and stuck it in my laptop. “Eleanor Rigby (Strings Only)” began to play, and I settled on the floor.
Tiny, quick paw-steps clicked, and I saw Slightly at my open door. I grinned.
Slightly Soiled, named for the Lost Boy, had been part of the family since I was five years old. Her breed was indeterminate, but she was the closest thing I had to a sister.
“Juliet, this is Slightly. Slightly, this is Juliet.”
Juliet stared at my dog for what seemed like more than a minute. And Slightly, the friendliest dog on the planet, stared back. Her tail didn’t wag, and she stood almost on point, like a bloodhound would when he picked up a fox’s scent.
“Um…” I was weirded out.
Slightly edged in front of me, growling low in her throat, as though protecting me. Her fur stood on end.
“Slightly, it’s OK.” I looked up at Juliet. She’s not usually like this,”
“She’s letting me know that you belong to her,” Juliet said matter-of-factly.
“What?” I looked at Juliet, confused.
Her eyes never left my dog’s, as though she was talking to Slightly with her eyes. I almost slapped myself for the ridiculousness of that thought.
Juliet waited for another second, then held out her hand. Slightly edged over and sniffed her hand. After a pause, she licked Juliet’s fingers, then lay down, rolling over to show her belly. Juliet smiled and rubbed Slightly’s tummy. “Cute.”
“Yeah, she’s awesome.” I clicked my tongue a few times. Slightly waddled over to me. She licked my face, right where I’d been punched. I grimaced and wiped my face. “Thanks.”
She gave me a doggy smile, jumped on my bed, turned three times, and lay down. I shook my head, looking back at Juliet who was flipping through the chapter in our Geography book.
“So, how did you know that she was thinking that?”
Juliet’s eyes snapped up to mine. “I don’t. I just guessed. Animals are protective of their own. Not sure she knows she’s a dog and not a human.”
I laughed. “Probably not. She’s like my sister.” I waited about ten seconds for Juliet to say anything. “So, I guess we could go through the questions at the end of the chapter?”
Silence as Juliet turned pages in her book. I sighed and pulled out a notebook to answer the questions on my own, then saw the green notebook from Walmart sitting in my drawer. I’d forgotten I had it. Taking a moment to summon my courage, I pulled it out and tossed it over to her.
She looked at it, then at me. “You…”
She took it and ran her fingers over it like she had the week before. “Don’t you want it?”
“I have tons of notebooks. I’m like a notebook addict.” I shook my head at my own verbal nonsense. “Never mind, I got it thinking I might see you again.” I sounded like a stalker.
“Oh.” She gave me a searching look, then opened the notebook. She didn’t say anything, not even thank you.
She was just not the friend I’d been hoping for. My shoulders slumped.
“Flashcards?”
“Huh?” My head shot up.
“Do you want to make flashcards?” She met my eyes. “Be easier to quiz each other.”
“Sure. Although I do know what the difference is between a mesa and plateau.” I groaned and got up, searching through my desk drawers for index cards.
“Tell me.”
I glanced back at her.
She looked conspiratorial. “Don’t we have to teach each other, after all?”
I smiled. She nearly smiled back.
* * *
Dinner was better than before. Juliet must have taken a friendly pill because she smiled. Twice. Once at one of Dad’s really bad jokes. It was noteworthy. Then, armed with two sodas, Juliet and I retreated to my room to study more.
“If I fail, I don’t care,” I said dramatically an hour later, lying back so my head hit the foot of my bed. “Mrs. Lange is not going to keep me from going to college.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Juliet?”
“Hmm?” She flipped through more of the flashcards.
“Are the Vardens nice?”
Her body jerked like I’d shocked her with static electricity, and then she glared at me.
“What?” I asked, immediately concerned. “Are they not?”
“They’re fine.” She fiddled with her pencil. “Just fine. Different. The mom doesn’t allow any junk food in the house.”
“Really?” I thought my mom was bad. We at least had ice cream in the freezer.
“But there’s a lot of meat. Like every meal has meat. Red meat. I dunno. Seems weird.”
I nodded, eager for anything about Ezra’s out-of-school life. Even his eating habits. I was the poster child for pathetic.
“I mean, they’re all right. I have chores and stuff, but they’re better than others.” Her eyes avoided mine.
I couldn’t imagine what kind of families she’d been a part of. “Do you like the house?”
She grinned, fully and without any hesitation. “Yeah, my room is great. It’s got a really cool window. It’s circular that looks out over the woods.”
“That is awesome.” My window had a view of our fenced backyard.
“Yeah. The little sister is a brat though.”
“Naomi?” I leaned forward.
“Yeah, her. Just…ugh. So spoiled. We share a bathroom, and it’s like the biggest sacrifice in the world. Like she wasn’t sharing with her brother too.”
“I don’t know her. She’s got her own friends in tenth grade.” I grabbed my necklace, absently putting the cross pendant into my mouth. Bad habit. “Is Ezra nice to you?” I tried to keep my tone neutral.
Suspicion crept in to her eyes. “He’s all right. He drives me places. Out of the whole family, he’s easiest to get along with. It’s more annoying how many girls have come up to me at school already just to ask about him. What is that about?”
If only she knew. “He and his friends are kind of sought after.” Understatement. “They’re like set apart, you know? Like their own little club. I guess people are curious. I’ve only really ever talked to Nick and Ezra.”
“Nick?”
“Nick Birch. The redhead. He hangs out with Ezra.”
She nodded as she closed her textbook. She wrapped her arms around her folded legs, listening.
“Anyway, Nick’s a goofball, but nice. I don’t know the others so well. All kind of mysterious. They don’t really hang out with anyone else.”
Her eyes were uninterested. Was it possible she didn’t find any of them attractive?
“What kind of guys do you like?”
Her face shut down. “I don’t like guys.”
“Oh. Oh.” I swallowed hard. “That’s OK.”
She turned her head toward me, her eyes knowing, if not a little smug. “I’m not a lesbian. I just…boys are annoying.” Something lay underneath her flippant response.
“Oh. Well, it would have been fine if you were.”
She smirked. “Sure.” She yawned, running her hands through her hair, her fingers twisting around the white bit.
“So your hair…do you dye it like that?”
Her hands immediately dropped.
I’d trod on something that was off-limits. “I mean, I like it,” I said hurriedly. “I’ve never dyed my hair. I always wondered what I’d look like as a blonde, but then I think my eyebrows are way too dark and dyeing eyebrows seems like overkill. Then maybe black, but I think I’d look really scary and…” Sophie the rambler in the building. “So, yeah.”
“It’s been like this ever since I can remember.” She held it so she could see it herself. “I tried dyeing it brown once. It didn’t stay. Repels all dye, I guess.” She sighed, dropping it. “It kills me when people think I’m a Rogue fan.”
I chuckled. “I did wonder. And that’d be OK. Rogue’s cool.”
Juliet raised one eyebrow. “She’s whiny.” She yawned again. “I think I’m studied out.”
“Yeah, it’s getting late. I should take you back.” I got up and stretched.
She threw her books into her backpack. She slid in the green notebook last before zipping it up. She stood, then followed me to the stairs. “Sophie?”
“Yeah?” I turned.
She didn’t say anything for a while. Her gaze never left mine, and although it was invasive, it didn’t bother me. Something about her would always intrigue me.
“You’re not so bad.” And she went to the bathroom.
I stood, my mind blank. I felt like crying, but in an entirely different way than the last time she’d been at my house.
Not so bad was good. I could take that.
Chapter Two
“So?” Juliet asked when we walked out of Geography toward lunch.
“Aced it.” I laughed. “You?”
“She made it seem like it would be so hard.” She shook her head. “We overstudied.”
“That we did, but it was fun, right?” Great, I was asking for validation. It had been fun last night, hanging out with her. Now I just sounded desperate.
Time seemed to crawl before she answered, “Yeah.”
I did a little dance in my head. “Cool.”
We continued to the cafeteria. As we got closer, I saw Nick with his arm around Ezra’s shoulders and the two of them talking. They both glanced over at the exact same time when we hit the first table in the cafeteria.
Creepy.
They walked over to us, and Juliet bristled at their presence. She really didn’t like guys.
“Hey, Sophie.” Nick shot a wary glance at Juliet, then gestured to my cheek. “Black and blue is a good look for you.”
Nick always brought out the sarcasm in me. “Thanks so much. Ezra, I didn’t get to really see your house when I dropped Jules off last night, but it looks really cool from the outside.” I was beyond lame with the words and talking thing.
“Oh yeah. It’s a house.” Ezra, who’d also been watching his foster sister warily, looked at me while Nick snorted as though someone had said something funny and Ezra shoved him. “Jules?”
“Jules?” Juliet repeated.
Soon I had three sets of eyes on me, I guess because I’d called her Jules. “Oh,” I swallowed. It had just come out. “Juliet just makes me want to quote Shakespeare…but I mean, it’s a great name, and I’m sorry…” Awesome, insult her name while I’m at it.
“No, I like it.” She smiled at me. “I’m hungry.”
And she grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me away.
Ezra and Nick who were looking at us with identical shocked expressions. I knew exactly how they felt.
* * *
Friday classes were over, and as I gathered my books for the weekend, my brain ran through the events of the last week, not quite believing I’d actually been in a fight. I didn’t see Jules as I went to my car. Maybe they’d already left. I didn’t know what I’d say to her anyway. It’d been less than twenty-four hours since she’d said I was “not so bad,” and I had no clue if that meant we could hang out over the weekend.
“Sophie!”
I stopped and turned around to see, of all people, Micah Reade running up to me. I noticed a few passersby staring, too.
Micah drew that kind of attention. He could probably win class president without even running. Didn’t hurt that he was handsome too. Black hair, a tan all year round, and built like a quarterback even though he didn’t play football. He carried himself like someone much older and way more mature.
“Hi, Micah. What’s up?”
He stopped a few feet away from me. “I have something after school. Can you take Gil home for me?” Gil was Micah’s little brother.
I blinked a few times. “Me?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s something with the guys and…” His eyes pled. “Please?”
Even I couldn’t resist those golden eyes. Not when he went all puppy-dog on me.
“Sure. Um, where is he?” I was surprised that Micah even remembered that we were neighbors. Like I’d told Jules about the guys, he hung out with Ezra and Nick and nobody else. Aidan Durham completed the group.
“On his way. He’s being a little shit about it.”
I must have flinched at the word, because Micah immediately said, “Sorry.”
“Oh, it’s OK.” I blushed, feeling goody-two-shoes branded on my forehead. “So um…how’s life?”
He shrugged. “It’s life. Glad this is our last year.”
“Mic!” Gil came out of the double doors toward us. “I was looking…” He paused when he saw me. “Hey.” His voice lowered, and his grin reminded me of the few times I’d see a guy flirt with a girl. A love-me grin.
