by Cat Clarke
2. Jacob eventually showed me the drawing he’d been working on, right before the bell rang on Thursday afternoon. It was a dragon with Mrs. McCready’s face, complete with those weird, old-fashioned glasses she wears. She was breathing fire, and if you looked closely, you could see numbers and math symbols in the flames. It was amazing.
Jacob acted embarrassed when I wouldn’t shut up about how good the picture was, but I’ve always been terrible at drawing, so I guess that made me extra impressed. In the end, he just shrugged, tore the page out of the notebook, and said I could keep it. Before I could thank him, he’d bolted out of the room. I carefully folded the piece of paper and put it in my bag.
“What’s that? A love letter to Jake?” asked Jade, bashing me with her bag as she passed my desk. “I don’t think you’re his type!” She walked away laughing, with Chelsea rushing to keep up. When she reached the door, she turned and shouted, “Nice haircut, by the way!”
I wouldn’t have minded—Jade was easy to ignore, like a buzzing fly you can just tune out after a while—but I turned around and saw Maisie.
There was a smile on her face.
Chapter 7
On Thursday night, Mamma came into my bedroom and said there was something she wanted to talk to me about. I was hoping that she’d realized how unhappy I was at Bankridge, and that tomorrow she was going to march right into the school and tell the principal that the dress code was ridiculous. Instead, she told me that the phone call at the hair salon on Sunday had been from her brother Maurizio.
“But I thought you never talked to him?”
“I don’t.” I didn’t have to ask why. Mamma’s family doesn’t approve of her being with Mom. They think she should have married some dude from her village in Italy. Her dad said he never wanted to see her again, which is pretty much the worst thing a parent can say to their kid, if you ask me. I only know this because I overheard Mom talking to Dante about it.
“So why did he call you?”
Mamma reached for my hand. I couldn’t tell whether it was to comfort me or her. “My father…he’s very sick.”
“How sick?”
“He’s dying,” she said simply. I was grateful she didn’t try to sugarcoat it for me.
I squeezed her hand. “That sucks.”
She snorted a surprised laugh. “Yeah, it does.”
“Does Enzo know?”
Mamma shook her head. “I’ll tell him in a minute.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Anyway, I just thought you should know. I should have told you sooner, but I… It was a lot to get my head around.”
“Have you booked your flight?”
For the first time in the conversation, Mamma looked like she was about to cry. “No,” she shook her head sadly. “I’m not going.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Sometimes words are useless, so I hugged her instead. She said I shouldn’t worry about her and that she would be OK.
After Mamma closed the door behind her, I lay on my bed thinking about this whole side of my family that I’d never met. I’d never even seen photos of them. It was hard to come to terms with the idea of this man even existing, let alone dying. It was impossible to think of him as my grandfather.
I was trying to work out whether I felt sad or not when my phone buzzed with an incoming message. It was Maisie—finally. I’d text messaged her as soon as I got back from school to ask why she’d smiled when Jade was mean to me.
I was smiling about something else.
What?
I can’t remember. Why are you making a big deal about this? I’m sure Jade didn’t mean anything by it. Anyway…did you see that new show they just put on Netflix? I’ve watched four eps already!
I had more important things to think about than TV shows. I didn’t want to tell Maisie about Mamma’s father though. It felt too private somehow.
I’ve been thinking about the school uniform.
Not this again! You need to get over it.
I can’t!
Girls have to wear skirts. It’s just the way things are. I’m not saying this to be mean…I’m only trying to help…you know that, right?
I didn’t reply. I was too busy looking up the school’s website to read that dress code just one more time.
I had an idea.
Chapter 8
On Friday, I went to school early. The moms seemed pleased. I guess they thought it was a sign that I was settling in at Bankridge after all.
My first stop was the girls’ bathroom. I locked myself in a stall and opened up my bag. I had that tingly feeling in my stomach—the one when you can’t tell if it’s nerves or excitement.
I took out a pair of black twill pants, which were rolled up and stuffed right at the bottom in case either of the moms had decided to do a random bag search. Not that they would ever do something like that, but it pays to be paranoid when you have a plan like mine. Mamma had been quiet at breakfast. She didn’t even say anything when Enzo slurped his cereal milk straight from bowl. I didn’t want to bother her with all of this uniform stuff when she clearly had other things on her mind.
I kicked off my shoes (after putting some toilet paper on the floor to stand on in my socks, obviously) and put the pants on.
Marion Meltzer came into the bathroom when I was checking myself out in the mirror. When she saw me, she scurried right back out again. I guess I wasn’t the only one too terrified to use the bathroom when there were other people in there.
After one last look in the mirror, I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed out into the corridor. Most people didn’t even notice, which was disappointing.
Jacob was already there when I arrived in homeroom. His head was resting on the desk. I thought he might be asleep, but he raised his head when he heard me come in. He looked pale and kind of pinched.
“Are you OK?” I asked, dumping my bag on the table.
“Yeah,” he said, vaguely. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Um…headache.”
It was obvious that he was lying, but I didn’t mind. I know what it’s like to want to keep things private.
“Well? What do you think?” I put my hands on my hips and puffed out my chest in my very best superhero pose.
“What do I think about what?”
I waited until he noticed.
“Oh man, you are going to be in so much trouble.”
I laughed, despite the tiny voice in my head saying that Jacob might be right. “They’re really strict about the dress code, you know that, right? I heard that someone got suspended for three days for having their nose pierced.”
I sat down next to him and smiled smugly. “Well, I’m not actually breaking the dress code, so I’d like to see them try to suspend me.”
“What do you mean? I thought girls had to wear skirts.”
“I am wearing a skirt. I just happen to be wearing pants too. The uniform policy doesn’t say anything about that.”
A slow smile spread across Jacob’s face. “What are you? Some kind of evil genius?”
I shrugged nonchalantly, but inside I was buzzing with excitement. Sure, I was still wearing the skirt, but it didn’t feel nearly as bad with the pants on underneath. I felt like some cool ancient warrior or something. I felt invincible.
=
Unfortunately, Mrs. McCready didn’t think I was an evil genius or an ancient warrior. At least, she didn’t say so when she sent me out of class after seeing my outfit.
She probably wouldn’t have even noticed if Jade hadn’t said, “I love your pants, Liv,” in a sugar-sweet, extra-loud voice when I stood up to open the window. Of course, that made everyone look at me. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I was going to get through the whole day unchallenged. I just thought it might take more than ten minutes, that’s all.
She shook her head and sighed. “I suppose you think this is funny, don’t you?”
“No, ma’am.” Jade and Chelsea were gawking at me through the tiny window in the classroom door.
“You know full well what the uniform policy means, even if the wording can be…interpreted differently. I could send you to the principal’s office right now, you know.” I winced. “But since we’re not even through the first week yet, I think I could be persuaded to give you the benefit of the doubt, just this once…provided you go to the bathroom and change out of those pants this instant.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I muttered.
“Now go. Quickly! Before I change my mind.”
=
I arrived back just in time for the end of homeroom. Mrs. McCready nodded when she saw the skirt skimming my knees. Jade stared at me and whispered something to the boy next to her, which made him stare at me too. A few other people whispered and giggled. Maisie didn’t even look up.
As we gathered our stuff when the bell rang, Jacob said, “It was worth a try. It’s such a dumb rule.”
I nodded, grateful to have someone finally agree with me.
Maisie must have sprinted as soon as she got into the corridor because by the time I got there, she was nowhere to be seen. Weird.
“I thought you looked cool,” said a barely audible voice behind me.
I turned to see who it was, but Marion Meltzer was already hurrying away down the corridor, head down and books clutched to her chest. I didn’t have a chance to say thanks.
I didn’t manage to talk to Maisie until recess. It did not go well.
I tried to make a joke about the morning’s drama, but she didn’t respond. So then I asked if everything was OK and she whirled around to face me. “What were you thinking? You know everyone thinks you’re, like, a total weirdo now, right? Which means they think I’m a weirdo too—by association.”
“Um…OK.”
“What do you mean ‘OK’? Don’t you want people to like you?”
I shrugged. “I guess so…but why wouldn’t they like me just because I wore a pair of pants? And how could it possibly affect how they feel about you?”
I thought those were perfectly valid questions; Maisie obviously did not.
“You’re impossible sometimes. Impossible. I’ll see you in class.”
She stalked off, leaving me to munch my apple alone.
Chapter 9
On Saturday, Mamma took Enzo and me to the movies while Mom and Dante looked after the deli. The moms take turns working at Monty’s every Saturday, and whoever isn’t on duty takes care of Enzo and me. Mamma usually opts to go to the movies or a museum, and Mom usually takes us for a walk on the beach or a bike ride. Occasionally, Mamma will suggest we head to the beach on one of her Saturdays, “just to keep us on our toes.”
Mamma’s brother called again on Saturday night, but she closed the door to the kitchen so we couldn’t listen to her conversation. Not that we’d have understood much of it. Despite Mamma’s best efforts, my Italian is not good. Il mio Italiano non è tanto buono. So the three of us stayed on the sofa, and Mom turned up the volume on the TV. Enzo said he was feeling sad about Mamma’s father, but he didn’t know why because he’d never even met him.
“I think that’s how we’re all feeling, sweetheart. Just…if you guys could try to be on your best behavior while all of this is going on, I’d really appreciate it. I mean, you should be on your best behavior all the time, obviously. But I’m realistic enough to know that’s not possible with you two troublemakers.”
“Troublemakers? Us?” Enzo asked. He really has that wide-eyed innocence thing down.
=
Monty’s is closed on Sundays, so we have one day a week when the four of us are all together. Usually, we pile onto the moms’ ginormous bed and drink tea and eat hot buttered toast. Garibaldi joins in too, but I have to help him up because of his missing leg. Then we have to fiercely guard the plate of toast so that Gari doesn’t gobble it up.
Sunday always used to be the best day of the week, but this Sunday was different. I woke up with this sick, heavy feeling in my tummy. The weekend was nearly over. That’s how it felt, even though technically there was a whole day left.
I buttered the toast—right to the edges—and cut it into triangles, just like I always do. But it didn’t feel the same. Great. A whole day of the week ruined for the next three years. The moms aren’t stupid—they knew something was up. Mom gave me a big hug and told me that I was in charge for the day. Enzo wasn’t too happy about that, but even his pouting face wasn’t enough to make me smile. I told Mom that I wanted to stay home because I had homework to do. She agreed to that, but said I’d get to choose the movie for Sunday Movie Night and, more importantly, the snacks. “Nachos, fully loaded?” I asked, slyly. Maybe nachos would make everything better.
“Nachos it is!” she said with a smiling sort of grimace. Mom hates nachos, but the rest of us love them. Enzo and I always compete over how much cheese we can get Mamma to grate on top.
I settled down to start my homework after breakfast. Enzo was busy cleaning his room. That just shows you how much of a little weirdo he is—who on earth actually enjoys cleaning their room? Mind you, I think he just uses it as an excuse to line up all of his action figures “in order of awesomeness.”
I finished the math problems in a few minutes. They weren’t too hard, but Mrs. McCready had said we should expect them to be “more challenging” next week. I didn’t like the sound of that, and I knew I needed to do well in her class, at least until she forgot about my little rebellion on Friday. We had twenty words of vocabulary to learn for Spanish, but I’d already done that during lunch on Friday while Maisie was busy chattering away to new people.
I left the biggest assignment until last. Our English teacher said he wanted to know more about us. He wanted us to learn all about each other and get to know each other better. We had to write a few paragraphs to introduce ourselves, talk about our likes and dislikes, and describe our families, as well as “something that’s important to us.” I’ve always enjoyed writing, though I prefer making stuff up (Pirates! Monsters! Monsters who also happen to be pirates!) over boring real-life stuff. But I actually got quite into this particular assignment. Mamma brought me a cup of tea, but I was so busy writing that I forgot to drink it.
I felt pretty pleased with myself when I read over my work. Oddly enough, writing it had made me feel much better about things. Maybe Bankridge wasn’t that bad, and even if it was, almost everything else in my life was good.
Chapter 10
My cheesy feelings of positivity lasted until approximately 10:13 a.m. on Monday. The rest of Sunday had been OK in the end. Enzo and I had played “spies versus aliens” in the garden. I was the alien—I always had to be the alien. I didn’t mind, because it meant that sometimes I got to kill Enzo by sucking his brains out with my special brain-sucking laser gun.
On Sunday night, I’d eaten a huge pile of nachos while we were watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (for the third time in three months). I went to bed feeling good about things. I was going to make more of an effort to settle in at Bankridge. I would even try to make new friends, if that’s what Maisie really wanted. Most importantly, I was going to try to ignore the stupid skirt, or at least try not to think about it every three seconds. And if I did think about it, I would do my best to imagine that it was actually a kilt, and I was a brave Scottish warrior who would chop the head off anyone who dared to laugh at him.
On Monday morning, Jacob was in homeroom before me again. He said he’d spent the weekend helping his mom paint their bathroom. He just laughed when I pointed out the tiny, almost invisible flecks of paint on his face. “You should try washing, you know,” I said.
“Washing
? Hmm… I think I’ve heard of that. Tell me more!” he said with a grin, leaning back in his chair and linking his fingers behind his head.
“Well, you get some water, ideally hot water but cold will do, and then you get some soap or shower gel and you combine the two. It’s like magic!”
We laughed a little bit too loudly, and Jade turned around to glare at me. Then she smiled at Jacob. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to go from glaring to smiling in 0.2 seconds.
In English, Mr. Eccles bounced into the room with a little bit too much enthusiasm for a Monday morning. “Right,” he clapped his hands together, “Let’s get to know each other! I’ll go first.”
That was weird. None of us had expected him to do the homework too. It turned out he hadn’t really done it; he just told us some things about himself. He was born in California. He’s the youngest of three brothers. Everyone in his family calls him BB, which stands for Baby Bear. We all laughed at that, and laughed even harder when he said, “That’s Mr. BB to you.” He has two guinea pigs called Plink and Plonk and a fiancée named Amira. He told us that teaching is very important to him, and that he thinks it’s the best job in the world. Somebody obviously forgot to tell him that video game tester is an actual real job that you can get paid to do.
We went in alphabetical order after that, and each one of us had to go up to the front of the classroom to read our essays. Jacob went first. I found out that his mom is really into feminism and teaches a course on it at the local college. His dad is a photographer for the local newspaper, and he has a sister named Chloe and a dog called Bob. He talked about the fact that he likes to draw.
