by L. J. Smith
“So are mine,” Diana said. “And my mom, too. It’s sad, because I always wanted a little sister, but my mother died the same year I was born, and my dad never remarried, so there never was any chance.”
“I’ve wished for a sister too,” Cassie murmured.
There was a silence. Then Diana said, “This is a beautiful room.”
“I know,” Cassie said, looking around at the massive, shining furniture and the formal draperies and the stiff chairs. “It’s beautiful, but it’s like a museum. That’s all my stuff that got shipped from home.” She pointed to a pile of belongings in the corner. “I tried to spread it around, but I was afraid of scratching something or breaking something.”
Diana laughed. “I wouldn’t worry. These things have made it through the last three hundred years; they’ll hold out a little longer. You just need to arrange the room so your stuff fits in with them. We could try it next weekend—I’m sure Laurel and Melanie would help too. It would be fun.”
Cassie thought of Diana’s bright, airy, harmonious room and felt a surge of hope. If her bedroom could look just half as good as that, she’d be happy.
“You’re just too nice to me,” she blurted out, then winced and put a hand to her forehead. “I know how incredibly stupid that sounds,” she said helplessly, “but it’s true. I mean, you’re doing all this for me, and you’re not getting anything back. And—I just can’t understand why you’d want to.”
Diana was looking out the window at the ocean. It rolled and sparkled, reflecting a clear, radiantly blue September sky. “I told you,” she said, and smiled. “I think you’re nice. You were good to help Sally the way you did, and it was brave to stand up to Faye. I admire that. And besides,” she added, shrugging, “I like being friendly to people. It doesn’t feel like I’m getting nothing back. I’m always wondering why people are so nice to me.”
Cassie threw a look at her, sitting there by the window with sunlight spilling over her, haloing her in brightness. Her fair hair seemed literally to glow, and her profile was perfect, like a delicately carved cameo. Could Diana really not know?
“Well, I guess the fact that you always seem to try and find the good in everybody could be part of it,” Cassie said. “People probably can’t resist that. And the fact that you’re not vain and you’re really interested in what other people have to say . . . and I guess the fact that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my entire life doesn’t hurt,” she added finally.
Diana burst out laughing. “I’m sorry you grew up around such ugly people,” she said. Then she sobered, looking out the window again and playing with the drapery cord. “But you know . . .” she said, and her voice was almost shy. Then she turned to Cassie, her eyes so brilliantly green that it took Cassie’s breath away.
“You know, it’s funny about us both wishing for sisters, and neither of us having one,” she said. “And ever since I saw you in the science building . . . well, I’ve felt almost as if you were my little sister. It sounds strange, but it’s true.”
It didn’t seem strange to Cassie. Ever since she’d seen Diana, she’d felt as if they were connected in some way.
“And—I don’t know; I feel I can talk to you, somehow. Even more than to Melanie and Laurel, even though we just met. I feel that somehow you understand me and that . . . I can trust you.”
“You can,” Cassie said quietly, but with a passion that surprised even her. “I don’t know why either, but you can trust me, no matter what.”
“So if you wanted . . .” Diana was frowning slightly, chewing her lip, still looking down as she pleated the curtain material. “Well . . . I was thinking maybe we could sort of be foster sisters to each other. Sort of adopt each other. Then I’d have a little sister and you’d have a big one. But only if you want to,” she added quickly, looking up again.
Want to? Cassie’s problem was that she didn’t know what to do—throw her arms around Diana, dance around the room, burst into laughter, or burst into tears.
“That would be okay,” she managed to say after a minute. Then, heart singing, she smiled at Diana, shyly, but meeting her eyes directly. “No, that’d be—great.”
“You’re looking better this morning, Mom,” Cassie said. Her mother, sitting on the edge of her bed, smiled at her.
“It was a bad flu, but I am better now,” she said. “And you—you’re looking happier, sweetheart.”
“I am,” Cassie said, dropping a quick kiss on her mother’s cheek. You’ll never know how much, she thought.
This morning was almost like the first day of school in excitement and anticipation. I don’t care if everyone else in the entire school hates me, Cassie thought. Diana will be there. Just thinking about that will make the rest not matter.
Diana was looking particularly beautiful that day, wearing a green suede jacket lined with blue silk over jeans faded almost white. At her throat hung a simple pendant with a single stone in it, a milky stone with a blue-white shimmer. Cassie was proud just to walk beside her at school.
And in the halls, she noticed something strange. It was hard to walk three steps without getting stopped by someone.
“Oh, hi, Diana—have you got a minute?” “Diana! I’m so glad to see you . . .” “Diana, it’s killing me. Won’t you just think about this weekend?” (This from a guy.) Practically everybody they passed wanted to talk with Diana, and those who didn’t have something to say hung around the edges just listening.
Cassie watched Diana speak to each of them. The guys begging for dates were the only ones she dismissed, smiling. Some of the people shot nervous glances at Cassie, but none of them backed away or said anything nasty. Apparently Diana had the power to counteract even Faye.
Finally, a few minutes before the bell, Diana pulled away from the crowd and walked Cassie to her English class. She not only came inside but sat down at a desk beside Cassie’s and chatted with her, ignoring everyone who was looking at them.
“We’ll have to have another pizza party this week,” she said in a clear, carrying voice. “And Laurel and I were talking about ways to redecorate your room if you still want to. Laurel’s very artistic. And I really think you ought to transfer into my AP history class if you can. It’s last period, and the teacher, Ms. Lanning, is great. . . .”
She went on talking, seeming utterly oblivious to the rest of the class. But Cassie could feel something bubbling up inside her like the carbonation in a bottle of soda. Girls who had actually turned their backs and scuttled away from her last week were now listening avidly to Diana’s monologue, nodding as if they were part of the conversation.
“Well, I guess I’d better go—I’ll meet you at eleven fifteen for lunch,” Diana said.
“Where?” Cassie asked, almost panicking as Diana got up. She had just realized she’d never seen Diana—or Laurel or Melanie either—at lunch.
“Oh, in the cafeteria—the part in the rear. Behind the glass door. We call it the back room. You’ll see it,” Diana said. The girls around Cassie were exchanging looks of astonishment. As Diana walked away one of them spoke.
“You get to eat in the back room?” she asked enviously.
“I guess so,” Cassie said absently, watching Diana.
“But . . .” Another look passed between the girls. “Are you in the Club?” one of them finished.
Cassie felt uncomfortable. “No . . . not really. I’m just friends with Diana.”
A pause. Then the girls settled back, looking bewildered but impressed.
Cassie scarcely noticed. She was watching the door, and the girl who’d walked in just as Diana reached it to walk out.
Faye was looking particularly beautiful this morning too. Her black hair was wild and lustrous, her pale skin glowing. Her lips looked more sensuous than ever, emphasized by some new shade of berry-red lipstick. She was wearing a red sweater that clung to every curve.
She stopped in the doorway, blocking it, and she and Diana looked at each other.
It was a long, measuring glance, hooded golden eyes locked with green. Neither of them said anything, but the air between them almost crackled with electricity. Cassie could almost feel the two strong wills fighting for dominance there. Finally, it was Faye who moved aside, but she gestured Diana through the door with an ironic flourish that seemed more like contempt than courtesy. And as Diana passed by, Faye spoke over her shoulder, without turning to look.
“What did she say?” one of the girls asked Cassie.
“I couldn’t hear it,” Cassie said.
But that was a lie. She had heard. She just didn’t understand. Faye had said, “Win a battle; lose the war.”
...
At lunch, Cassie wondered how she hadn’t seen the back room of the cafeteria before. She understood, though, how Diana and her friends hadn’t seen her—the entrance to the back room was swamped with people. People standing around, people hoping to be invited in, or people just hanging out on the fringes. They blocked any view those seated inside might have of the cafeteria proper.
It was easy to see why this room was the favorite gathering place. There was a TV mounted on one wall, although it was too noisy to hear it. There was even a microwave and a Veryfine juice machine. Cassie was aware of stares on her back as she went in and sat down beside Diana, but today they were stares of envy.
Melanie and Laurel were there. So was Sean, the little slinking boy who’d urged her to go to the principal. So was a guy with disheveled blond hair and slightly tilted blue-green eyes—oh, God, one of the Henderson brothers. Cassie tried not to give him a look of alarm as Diana nodded at him and said, “That’s Christopher Henderson—Chris, say hi; this is Cassie. You moved her white Rabbit.”
The blond guy turned and stared defensively. “I never touched it. I didn’t even see it, okay? I was somewhere else.”
Diana and Melanie exchanged a patient look. “Chris,” Diana said, “what are you talking about?”
“This chick’s rabbit. I didn’t take it. I’m not into little furry animals. We’re all brothers, okay?”
Diana stared at him a moment, then shook her head. “Go back to your lunch, Chris. Forget it.”
Chris frowned, shrugged, then turned back to Sean. “So there’s this new group, Cholera, right, and they’ve got this new album . . .”
“Somebody did move my car,” Cassie offered tentatively.
“He did it,” Laurel said. “He just doesn’t have a very good memory for reality. He knows a lot about music, though.”
Sean, Cassie noticed, was a different boy in here than he’d been by the lockers. He was excessively polite, seeming eager to please, and frequently offering to get things for the girls. They treated him like a slightly annoying little brother. He and Laurel were the only juniors besides Cassie.
They’d been eating just a few minutes when a strawberry-blond head appeared in the doorway. Suzan looked cross.
“Deborah’s got a lunch detention and Faye’s off doing something, so I’m eating in here,” she announced.
Diana looked up. “Fine,” she said evenly, then added, “This is my friend Cassie, Suzan. Cassie, this is Suzan Whittier.”
“Hi,” Cassie said, trying to sound casual.
There was a moment of tension. Then Suzan rolled her china-blue eyes. “Hi,” she said finally, and immediately sat down and began removing things from her lunch sack.
Cassie looked at Suzan unloading her lunch, then threw a quick glance over at Laurel. Then she looked at Diana and raised her eyebrows questioningly.
She heard the crinkle of plastic as Suzan produced the last item from her bag; then a piercing shriek from Laurel.
“Oh, my God—you’re not still eating those! Do you know what’s in those things, Suzan? Beef fat, lard, palm oil—and it’s about fifty percent white sugar . . .”
Diana was biting her lip and Cassie was shaking silently, trying to keep a straight face. Finally it was too much, and she had to let the giggles escape. As soon as she did Diana burst into laughter too.
Everyone else looked at them, baffled.
Cassie smiled down at her tuna sandwich. After so many weeks of loneliness, she had found where she belonged. She was Diana’s friend, Diana’s adopted sister. Her place was here beside Diana.
Chapter 10
That Friday, Kori came to the back room for lunch. She seemed in awe of the older girls and was even absently respectful of Cassie, which was nice. Certainly Suzan and Deborah had no such respect. The strawberry blond seemed unaware of Cassie’s existence unless she wanted something passed to her or picked up, and the biker fixed Cassie with a surly glare whenever they passed in the hall. Deborah and Doug—the other Henderson brother—had appeared in the back room only once since Cassie started eating there, and they had spent the entire time arguing furiously about some heavy-metal band.
Neither Faye nor Nick, the dark, coldly handsome boy who’d rescued Cassie’s backpack, showed up at all that week.
But Kori Henderson was nice. Now that Cassie knew, she could see the resemblance to Chris and Doug—the blond hair and the blue-green eyes that Kori emphasized by wearing a turquoise necklace and ring all the time. Kori wasn’t as wild as her brothers, though. She seemed just an ordinary, friendly, going-on-fifteen girl.
“I’ve been waiting so long for it, I can’t believe it’s finally here,” she was saying at the end of lunch. “I mean, just think, next Tuesday’s the day! And Dad says we can have the party down on the beach—or at least he didn’t say we couldn’t—and I want to make it really special, because of it being a holiday, too. . . .” She trailed off suddenly. Cassie, following her gaze, saw that Diana had her lip caught between her teeth and was almost imperceptibly shaking her head.
What was Kori saying wrong? Cassie wondered. And then it struck her: this was the first she’d heard about a party, although it clearly wasn’t news to the others. Was she not invited?
“So, uh, do you think Adam will be back in time for—for—I mean, when do you think Adam will be back?” Kori stuttered.
“I don’t really know. I hope it’s soon, but . . .” Diana gave a little shrug. “Who can tell? Who can ever tell?”
“Who’s Adam?” Cassie said, determined to show she didn’t care about the party.
“You mean she hasn’t told you about Adam yet? Diana, there’s such a thing as carrying modesty too far,” Melanie said, her cool gray eyes disbelieving.
The color had come to Diana’s cheeks. “There just hasn’t been time—” she began, and Laurel and Melanie hooted.
Cassie was surprised. She’d never seen Diana react this way. “No, but really,” she said. “Who is he? Is he your boyfriend?”
“Only since childhood,” Laurel said. “They’ve been together forever.”
“But where is he? Is he in college? What’s he like?”
“No, he’s just—visiting some people,” Diana said. “He’s a senior, but he’s been away so far this year. And as for what he’s like . . . well, he’s nice. I think you’ll like him.” She smiled.
Cassie looked toward Laurel for more information. Laurel waved a zucchini stick in the air. “Adam’s . . .”
Kori said, “Yes, he’s . . .”
Even Melanie couldn’t seem to find the right words. “You’ll have to meet him,” she said.
Cassie was intrigued. “Do you have a picture of him?” she asked Diana.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t,” Diana said. Seeing Cassie’s disappointment, she went on, “You see, around here people have a sort of silly superstition about photographs—they don’t like them. So lots of us don’t get pictures taken.”
Cassie tried to pretend this wasn’t as bizarre as she thought it was. Like aboriginals, she thought in amazement. Thinking the camera will steal their souls. How can anybody in the twentieth century think that?
“He’s cute, though,” Kori was saying fervently.
Suzan, who had been absorbed in eating, looked up from her lunch to proclaim in
feeling tones: “That bod.”
“Those eyes,” Laurel said.
“You’d better go easy,” Melanie said, smiling. “You’re going to drive Diana crazy before he gets back.”
“Crazy enough to give somebody else a chance, maybe?” Sean piped up. Looks of forbearance passed between the girls.
“Maybe, Sean—sometime in the next millennium,” Laurel said. But being a kind girl, she didn’t say it very loudly.
Looking amused, Melanie explained to Cassie, “Adam and Diana don’t even see anyone of the opposite sex except each other. For years Adam thought the rest of us were boys.”
“Which in Suzan’s case took quite a lot of imagination,” Laurel put in.
Suzan sniffed and glanced at Laurel’s flat chest. “And in some people’s case took no imagination at all.”
“What about you, Cassie?” Diana interrupted before an argument could begin. “Did you leave a boyfriend back home?”
“Not really,” Cassie said. “There was one guy, though, this summer. He was . . .” She stopped. She didn’t want to tell the story in front of Suzan. “He was sort of . . . all right. So, anyway, how did Faye’s date with Jeffrey go?” she asked Suzan abruptly.
Suzan’s look said she wasn’t fooled by the sudden change of subject, but she couldn’t resist answering. “The fish got hooked,” she said with a smirk. “Now all she has to do is reel him in.”
The bell rang then, and there was no further conversation about boyfriends or dates. But Cassie noticed a look about Diana’s eyes—a tender, wistful dreaminess—that lingered for the rest of the day.
After school, Diana and Cassie drove back to Crowhaven Road together. As they drove by the Henderson house—one of those in the worst repair—Cassie noticed Diana biting her lip. It was a sure sign the older girl was worried about something.
Cassie thought she knew what. “I don’t mind about Kori’s party,” she offered quietly, and Diana looked at her, surprised. “I don’t,” Cassie insisted. “I don’t even know Kori, really. The only time I saw her before was when she was out with Faye on the steps. What’s wrong?” she added as Diana looked even more surprised.
