by Nancy Isaak
“Maybe they’re becoming friends,” I suggested.
“Jude doesn’t make friends.”
“We’re her friends…now.”
“I thought she just put up with us. Or is it that we put up with her?”
Even though it was a little mean-spirited, Jay and I had a good giggle over that.
* * * *
One moment, the doorway was empty—the next, she was there.
Peyton Buckingham stood in silence, her eyes moving slowly over us girls, taking in our clothes, our shoes—judging, finding us wanting. Almost to a girl, we stopped talking—becoming uncomfortable at such obvious inspection.
Brow furrowed, Peyton’s attention shifted as she caught sight of her sister at the cookie table with Lily.
“Amelie!”
In quick, angry steps, Peyton crossed the room, grabbing her younger sister by the arm. “You don’t ever disappear like that again! I need to know where you are at all times!” She began to pull Amelie back toward the door.
“But I just wanted to get some cookies,” cried her sister.
“You want cookies,” Peyton snapped, “you ask for them. We’ve got people to get them now. We don’t do it ourselves.” She had kept her voice low when she said this, so I don’t think Peyton realized that Jay and I could hear her words.
We had, however—although it was doubtful that anyone else did.
With a final tug, Peyton pulled Amelie out of the room. As they disappeared down the hallway, I could hear the younger girl still trying to explain herself. “But I made a new friend, Peyton! And she’s really nice…and I wasn’t getting into any trouble…”
As Amelie’s voice faded out, I turned to look at the other girls in the room. They had all returned to their conversations. The only ones who still seemed interested in the Buckingham ‘sister-drama’ were the Continuation girls—Cherry, her younger sister, Shawnee, and Wandy. They were all looking toward the empty door, frowns on their faces.
Meanwhile, Jude had risen and was walking over to a crestfallen Lily.
“Come on, Sailor Moon,” she said, grabbing the little girl by the hand. “Let’s go home.”
PINK IS THE NEW BLACK
We wound up staying at Jude’s house that night, even though Lily was upset at leaving Pugly in the townhouse by himself. But we all agreed, however, that it was probably the smartest thing—to go to Jude’s—just in case someone was watching.
Besides, we had fed, watered, and walked Pugly just before we had left earlier that night. As long as no one broke in while we were gone, we figured that he’d be just fine until the morning.
That was one of the nice things about that little dog—he was a deep sleeper. Put him on a pillow after 8 p.m., and Pugly tended to snore and fart his way until the sun rose.
* * * *
It was fascinating to be in Jude’s bedroom—the lair of the girl who had caused Jay and me so much trouble these last few years. Because of that, I think I was expecting some dark room filled with satanic posters and “Lord of the Rings” swords tucked in the corners.
What I wasn’t expecting was so much…pink!
I think my mouth must have dropped open when we first walked into Jude’s room because she immediately turned on me and barked, “Shaddup!”
“I didn’t say anything,” I insisted.
“You didn’t have to, Barbie. Your face says it all.”
Jay walked forward, plopping down on Jude’s bed. It was a large queen, with a white filigreed headboard and a bright pink duvet accented in red, green, and yellow circles that appeared almost neon in the weak light from our candles.
“Pretty!” smirked Jay, rubbing her hand over the duvet. “Speaking of Barbie, didn’t I see this in her Dream House?”
Jude glowered at her. “You seriously want to piss me off, Skipper?”
Jay grinned up at the older girl. “Might be worth it.”
A tired Lily, meanwhile, was checking out the photographs neatly arranged in series of four—all across the light-pink walls. I stood beside her, admiring the photos.
Here—the photographs were of beach scenes—high waves, surfers, yellow and gold sunsets.
There—the photographs showed flowers, close up and glistening with early morning dew—roses, marigolds, and daffodils.
In all there had to be about twenty framed photographs in the room. It all made sense once I noticed the Canon 5D camera on a desk in the corner.
“Did you take these pictures, Jude?” I asked, astonished. “They’re beautiful!”
Jude looked down at the floor, embarrassed.
“Seriously,” I continued. “You’re really good.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she mumbled.
“Of course, it does,” I insisted.
“No, it doesn’t.” She shook her head. “Stupid hobby. Not like I can do it anymore anyway.”
There was another picture on a nearby nightstand. I picked it up, astounded by how professional it looked.
“This is an amazing shot, Jude!”
* * * *
Just above Agoura High, beyond the football field, a large letter ‘A’ has been placed on the hillside. Some people say that the giant letter is built out of wood, others say that it is ceramic, while still others insist that it is made out of metal. What all do agree on, however, is that—whatever the ‘A’ is made of—the letter is big enough to be visible from the 101 Freeway.
Throughout the school year, the color of the giant ‘A’ changes; one day it will be blue, the next week yellow, the next week red—depending on which school group decides to paint it.
Jude had photographed the ‘A’ when it was yellow.
She had spent ten hours at the bottom of the hill one long, dark night, manually opening and closing the Canon’s shutter every few minutes. The result was an astonishingly beautiful time-lapse photograph of a buttercup ‘A’, set against the black sky. Silky strands of white and gold—stars shifting across the heavens—created what looked to be a halo above the apex of the ‘A’.
“Did you show this to anybody at school?” Jay asked her, impressed.
Jude shrugged. “Why would I? They’d just make fun of it. People make fun of everything I do.”
“But it’s really good,” said Jay. “Like yearbook-good.”
“She’s right, Jude,” I agreed. “I’m on the Yearbook Committee and this would of definitely gone into the book.”
“Okay, stop it, you two.” Jude was becoming irritated. “I don’t want to hear it anymore…just stop! There’s no yearbook now, so it just doesn’t matter, okay!”
Reluctantly, I put the photograph back down on the nightstand. Almost immediately, Lily walked over and picked it back up again.
“If you don’t want it, can I have it, Jude?” she asked. “I think it’s pretty.”
The smile Jude gave the little girl was sweet and genuine. “What’s mine is yours, Sailor Moon. You know that.”
Taking the photograph with her, Lily went over to the bed and laid down. She placed the picture on the pillow beside her, so that she could look at it as she fell asleep.
With a big yawn, she murmured to us, “I think I’m gonna’ rest just a little.”
* * * *
Quietly, Jay, Jude, and I moved out of the bedroom and into the rest of the house. We each carried a lit candle. Even so, because of the dark drapes that covered all the windows, it was difficult to see past the shadows. Jude had to physically guide us to a table in a corner of the dining room.
“Did you see them at the top of the bleachers?” asked Jude, as we sat down.
“See who?” I asked.
“I saw them,” said Jay. “They were also at the corners of the football field as we passed. And I think they were holding clipboards. I’m pretty sure I saw them writing down something.”
“I saw that, too,” Jude agreed.
“Saw who?” I asked again, becoming frustrated.
“11th and 12th graders,” answered Jay, ma
king it sound ominous.
“You mean the ones from the Protection Detail?” Jay and Jude both nodded their heads. “What were they doing?”
“Weren’t you listening?” asked Jay, a little exasperated. “They were writing stuff down on clipboards. I could see it, because they were holding these little candles up for light.”
“I think they were watching all of us,” added Jude. “The ones who came to the meeting…to see where everybody went.”
“Why?” I asked.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” said Jude, frowning.
We all thought about this for a moment—until Jude got bored. “Well, I’m thirsty. My parents have beer if you want it. I’m going for some bottled water, though. We’ve got some of that fruity powder to put in your water if you like—makes it taste like Kool-Aid.”
“Fruity water,” I said.
“Me, too,” nodded Jay.
Jude disappeared into a far room. From where we were sitting, all Jay and I could see was the weak glow of her candle as she moved around, getting our drinks.
“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” asked Jay, speaking softly.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because if they’re watching people, then that means that the Foxes are planning something.”
“This was their first meeting. I think it’s kind of a little early to think that the Foxes are up to something nefarious, don’t you?”
Jude reappeared with a tray of drinks. She sat down, placing a glass of red liquid in front of each of us. “Skipper’s right…we’re in trouble.”
“How so?” I asked her.
“The Foxes definitely have a plan,” she said, between gulps of her fruity water. “And they’re becoming organized. They’ve got security with guns now and no adults around to stop them.”
“So, what do you think their plan is?” I asked. “I mean, their—total plan. What do you think they want to ultimately have happen?”
“I can answer that,” said Jay. “Do you remember in Ms. Francis’ Social Science class last year, when she talked about totalitarian societies?”
“Like the Nazis…sure.”
“Well, they all start out the same, right. The totalitarians separate people into groups. They create divisions—make some people better than others.”
Jude nodded, frowning. “All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal,” she murmured.
“Hey!” I said, grinning. “That’s from George Orwell’s “Animal Farm”! I thought you said you were book dumb?”
“Shaddup!” Jude glowered at me. “I just read it on a Snapple lid.”
“Liar!”
Jay ignored us both, continuing with her thought. “Then the totalitarians start recording ‘people-data’—like their ethnic background, their addresses, their friends. Then the ‘final solution’ begins. If you’re not part of the group in power, you get rounded up and sent away or you get killed.”
I think I must have giggled a little, because Jay frowned at me. “It happens,” she said, very serious. “Nazis rounded up Jews. The Hutus rounded up the Tutsis. The Serbs rounded up Bosnians.”
“Well, yeah,” I said, trying not to smile, “but we’re talking about teenage girls in Agoura Hills—not Nazis.”
“The Foxes and those 11th and 12th graders on the Protection Detail are up to something,” Jay insisted. “And I know you guys think so, too—otherwise, you would of told them where we lived. Plus, you didn’t tell them about Pugly…and Jude told Amelie that Lily was her cousin.”
I turned to Jude. “Why did you say that, by the way—that Lily was your cousin? I meant to ask you before, but I forgot.”
Jude shrugged, as if it should have been obvious. “Because they can’t take Lily away from us if they think she’s part of my family.”
“You really think they would do that?” I asked, uncertain. “I mean, what possible reason would the Foxes have to take Lily?”
Another shrug from Jude. “People with guns don’t need to give reasons.”
“Maybe we really should start thinking about heading down to Malibu.” Jay chewed at a fingernail, nervously. “What do you think, Kaylee?”
“Well…it’s probably smart to have a back-up plan, just in case. Jude, what are your thoughts?”
Jude stretched, hands above her head—almost as if she was bored. “Fine by me. I’ve got nothing to keep me here.”
“But do you think Lily will want to go?” I looked toward the bedroom, where a faint light flickered in the shadows—Lily’s candle sitting on the night table beside her.
“She’ll go,” said Jude.
“How can you be so sure?” I asked.
Jude sniffed in annoyance. “Because we’re damn well Lily’s family now. She goes where her family goes.”
“Then we’ll have to start making preparations,” I said. “So, if we do decide to go, we’ll be ready.”
“What kind of preparations?” asked Jay.
“Well…we might not be able to make it over the mountains in a day, which means that we’ll have to have enough food and water ready for the trip. And—just in case we have to leave quickly—we should have most of our stuff already in our backpacks.”
“Why don’t we just put everything in the baskets on our bikes?” asked Jay.
“I think we should do both,” I said, “in case we lose our bikes. The Foxes’ Protection Detail already want everybody’s weapons. Who’s to say that the next thing they’ll want won’t be everyone’s bikes. At least, if we have things in a backpack, we’ll be able to move easily and quickly.”
“Should we plan on a specific day to leave by?” asked Jay.
“Why don’t we give this ‘community-thing’ the Foxes are trying to do a few days?” I suggested. “If it doesn’t work out or we’re unhappy, then we’ll leave.”
“Are we staying here or at the townhouse?” asked Jay.
“We stay here,” said Jude, immediately. At Jay’s and my questioning looks, she added, “The Foxes know we’re staying here now, so this will be where they’ll look for us. We can use the townhouse as our safe house. Something happens we don’t like, we all know to meet up there—in the secret room.”
“Then we definitely need to be the ones going through the townhouses tomorrow,” I said, “because we don’t want the Foxes or any of the Protection Detail to find out about what’s in the Sitipala attic.”
“That’s why I signed us up for search duty,” said Jude. “We get there early enough, hopefully, we can choose where we search.”
Jay tapped a finger on the table. “There’s something else we need to think of—if the Foxes are truly planning something bad. I mean, that’s what we’re all thinking, right?”
“We’re wary,” I said. “But trying to remain optimistic.”
“You two can be optimistic,” growled Jude. “I’m suspicious as hell.”
Jay nodded. “Okay, then…if we’re, uh…‘covering our butts’, we need to get into the school’s main office and take our files, so that nobody will have the address to our townhouses or Kaylee’s dad’s house down in Malibu. Obviously, we don’t have to worry about the computer files anymore, but the hard copies will have our home addresses.”
“The Foxes don’t know where you live?” asked Jude.
Both Jay and I shook our heads. “We’re below their radar,” joked Jay. “Not cool enough. They probably don’t even know that we’re alive.”
“So, how are we going to get our records?” I asked.
“We can just break into the school,” suggested Jude. “But we need to do it now before the Foxes get even more organized and take over the front office—if they haven’t already.”
Reaching into her pocket, Jay pulled out her house keys and pointed to a large silver key. “We don’t have to break in,” she grinned. “I still have my key from when I worked in the office as an aide. We can use that.”
I pointed an accusing finger at her. “You were supposed to
turn that in!”
“Well, I did turn in the key they gave me,” Jay said, haughtily.
Jude laughed. “Someone made a copy…bad Skipper.”
“Why did you make a copy?” I asked, curious. “That’s not like you.”
“I don’t know,” said Jay, looking embarrassed. “I just wanted it…just in case. Now, aren’t you glad I did?”
Jude nodded. “Good bad-Skipper.”
I don’t know if it was the absurdity of the situation, but I started to laugh. Pretty soon, we were all laughing.
Then—to my horror and shame—my eyes filled with tears and my laughter turned to sobs.
“Sheesh!” groaned Jude. She immediately stood up and pointed a finger at Jay. “You can deal with her.”
Then she turned and walked away.
Jay, meanwhile, pulled her chair around the table until she was sitting beside me. “You okay?” she asked, gently.
I nodded, still blubbering. “It’s weird, huh. Like I can’t stop crying and I don’t know why.”
Reaching out, Jay took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Could it be that it’s the end of the world, Facebook is down so you can’t update your status, and three crazy, evil girls are probably about to take over Agoura Hills for their own demented empire?”
Smiling through my tears, I nodded vigorously. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”
JOURNAL ENTRY #13
We broke into the high school today.
Or maybe we didn’t.
Can you really call it ‘breaking in’ when there is no more school and we actually had a key? In any case—while everyone was eating their breakfast in the cafeteria—Jay and I snuck into the main office and stole all our files.
And Jude’s, of course.
Actually, we stole quite a few files—twenty-two in all—every file of every girl whose name we knew who had survived.
