There was still residual worry hanging around the next morning, both at home with my mom and in the car when Michael picked me up. I was feeling fine, but the two of them looked at me as though I might drop any minute.
“Are you sure you’re okay to come back?” Michael asked me for the third time as we drove through town.
“I’m beginning to think you don’t want me to come back,” I complained.
He sighed impatiently. “You know that’s not true—or at least, I hope you know it’s not. I just worry. Not only about whether you’re recovered from yesterday, but also—you know, Nell. What if she tries to pull something?”
“I don’t think she has any reason to be suspicious,” I said slowly, trying not to think of her narrowed eyes watching me the day before. “So in her mind she wouldn’t have any more reason to hate me today than she did yesterday.”
“She seems to be able to hate you without any specific cause,” Michael observed archly.
“True enough, but that means I’m in no more danger from her today than I was before. I’ll steer clear as much as I can.” I was already dreading Chemistry, but I decided to keep that to myself. I bit the side of my lip, trying to think of a legitimate excuse to miss that class.
“I actually had a thought about the whole Nell situation,” Michael said, interrupting my scheming.
“What’s that? Does it involve humiliation and mortification on her part?”
He rolled his eyes at me. “You talk big, but you know you’d never let me really do anything fun to her. Problem is, you’re way too nice a person.”
I raised my eyebrows and blinked slowly. “Unlike you, of course?”
Michael furrowed his brow and tightened his jaw. “I’ll do whatever I have to, if I have to.” He glanced sideways at me, to see if I was buying it. I wasn’t, still gazing at him with lifted brows.
He relented, grinning. “So maybe it would be a last resort.” Then his grin faded, and the worried look returned. “But if she keeps messing with you, I won’t hesitate to more than humiliate and mortify. I’ll do what I have to do, to keep you safe, under any circumstances.”
I believed him. I could feel the determination in his words. Tactfully I changed the subject.
“What was your idea about Nell?”
“It’s not so much about Nell as about Amber. We know that approaching Nell isn’t going to do any good. And we know that our hands are tied right now as far as any outside authorities, teachers or the police. Nothing’s happened for us to report. But why can’t we talk to Amber, see if she’ll spill about what’s going on?”
This was so obvious that I wondered why it hadn’t occurred to me. I considered for a moment. “Not a bad idea at all. But what if Amber goes to Nell and tells her what we’re saying?”
Michael nodded, and I knew he had already thought of this possibility. “She might. We’d have to approach her. . .carefully. Say nothing about anything except what anyone in the school might have observed, like Amber sitting with Nell at lunch. If you just casually mentioned that subject, maybe she’d open up to you.”
I gaped at him, panicked. “Me? I thought it would be you—or even us. Amber won’t speak to me under normal circumstances. It would be really weird if I just starting asking her stuff out of the blue.”
We had pulled into the parking lot, and Michael switched off the car and turned in his seat, laying one wrist over the steering wheel. “Can’t you just start talking with her casually? Girls do that, right?”
I was exasperated. “Girls might do that, but I don’t, and even if I did, Amber really doesn’t like me, I don’t think.”
He looked at me steadily and shook his head. “How is it that two girls could dislike someone like you so quickly? I don’t get females.”
I patted his arm. “Don’t feel bad. Most boys don’t.”
Michael sighed. “I guess it would make more sense for us to talk to her together. I could ask her why she’s pals with Nell all of a sudden.”
“Or maybe it would be better for you to talk to her alone. I’m telling you, she really doesn’t like me. She won’t even look at me in class.”
He swung open his door and climbed out of the car. I did the same on my side, grabbing my bag from the backseat. “I’ll see if the opportunity presents itself, and if it doesn’t, we’ll find her this afternoon. Okay?” He met me on my side of the car and reached out to grab my hand.
Happiness flooded through me, as it always did when Michael touched me. The simple act of holding his hand still amazed me. My smile must have given me away, because when he caught sight of my face, he pulled me closer to his side.
“Hey, remember what I said about that smile. It’s only for me.”
I laughed. “You can’t fool me. I know you’re not that insecure.” I leaned my head against his shoulder briefly. “Besides, you know that all my smiles are for you.”
We were quiet as we walked into school, wrapped up in our own cocoon of contentment. As we approached my locker, I heard a voice call my name.
“Hey, you’re looking more alive today.” It was Cara Pryce, my rescuer from the day before.
“Hey!” I greeted her. “Thanks again for not letting me humiliate myself more than I did yesterday. If you hadn’t been there, I think I would’ve gone down.”
“No problem.” She glanced at Michael, and I remembered my manners.
“Cara, do you know Michael Sawyer? Michael, Cara took care of me yesterday and got me to the nurse in one piece and upright.”
Michael smiled briefly. “Yeah, Cara came into class to tell me where you were.” He nodded to her. “Thanks again for that. I would’ve been wondering what was going on.”
“Glad I could help,” Cara replied. “Are you feeling better, then?” This was addressed to me.
“Yes, thanks. It must have been just a temporary. . .thing.” I tried to keep my tone vague.
“Well, that’s good. I guess I’ll see you in French?”
“Sure, see you there,” I answered, and Cara turned to walk away.
Michael reached out to tuck a curl behind my ear. “She seems nice. I’m glad she was there to help you yesterday.”
“Yeah, me too. She was cool about it, didn’t make a huge deal. And she talked to me, which is more than I can say for most of the people here.” I gave him a half smile. “Present company excluded, of course.”
Michael returned the smile absently, his mind obviously elsewhere. “It would be good for you to have a friend to watch your back when I can’t be there. I don’t know much about her, except that she moved here last year. Her dad is the pastor at that new church right outside of town.”
I frowned. “Really? She’s a pastor’s kid? Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed.”
We had walked to Michael’s locker, and I leaned back against the wall as he sorted through his books. He poked his head out to look at me quizzically. “Do you have something against pastors’ kids?”
“No, not exactly. I’ve known a few—went to school with them, I mean—and usually what’s inside their head doesn’t match up with what’s outside.”
“That’s a very cynical attitude.”
I shrugged. “I don’t like hypocrisy. And I’m in the unenviable position of knowing more about it than most people. I always know when people’s real motives don’t match their actions. We went to churches sometimes when I was younger, and it was usually the most pious people who had the most wicked thoughts.” I looked down at my watch. “I’ve got to get to French. That’s one teacher who really likes me, so I don’t want to ruin her impression of me. See you at lunch?” I still asked the question every day, not quite believing that I never had to eat lunch alone again.
“I’ll be there. Hey.” He grabbed me by my backpack and pulled me back toward him. His face was very close to mine, and all I could see were his eyes. He moved his hand from my bag to my neck, stroking lightly, and then used his other hand to gently brush my hair away from my face. “Have a go
od morning. Be careful. Stay conscious. And give Nell lots of room, okay?”
I could hardly breathe for his nearness, but I managed a brief nod before he released me with a smile. I tossed him a brilliant grin in return and headed to French.
Cara had an empty seat next to her when I entered the classroom, and I hesitated, wondering if it would be pushy to choose to sit there. Before I could decide, Cara saw me and smiled, gesturing to the desk beside her. Gladly I slid into the seat just as the teacher turned to begin class.
Today we were working on written translations as a group. We took turns doing sentences, each one going up to the board in turn to write the English equivalent of the French words. When Cara went up for her turn, I contemplated her thoughtfully. I wouldn’t have pegged her as the daughter of a minister. She was pretty in a way, with her dark blonde hair worn in a short bob. Her eyes were brown, and her features were not remarkable. I realized it was the gentle twinkle in her eye that made her look likable. She was dressed like the rest of the girls, in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. I tried to remember if I had seen her hanging out with any particular crowd, but I couldn’t recall.
We finished the translations, and Madame assigned our homework. She called a student to her desk to go over some missed work, allowing us to talk quietly among ourselves.
Cara turned to me, smiling. “Are you adjusting to life in Florida yet?”
I smiled, too, ruefully. “Well, it’s different. But I think I’m settling in, thanks.”
She raised her eyebrows at me significantly. “Maybe with a little help from a certain senior?”
I flushed. I had seen looks from some girls, both seniors and juniors, who seemed to resent my relationship with Michael. I remembered Anne telling me that Michael had been the object of much unrequited love. And I knew that those girls were wondering what I had done to ensnare him. It would be impossible to explain that I hadn’t pursued him at all, and I doubted any of them would believe it.
I wondered if Cara could be counted in the numbers of the girls who had sighed after Michael from afar.
“Michael… has been a big help,” I answered carefully. “He was friendly to me from my first day here, when I was feeling very alone.”
I waited to feel skeptical waves coming from Cara, but instead, there was only interest and friendliness.
“It’s hard to be the new girl, isn’t it?” she mused. “Last year was the first time for me. I’d lived all my life in Pennsylvania, and then we moved here. I didn’t know it would be so hard.”
“I’ve been moving all my life. I don’t think it ever gets easier.”
“The worst part was lunch. I didn’t have anyone to sit with, and I decided to just be bold and find a table.” She widened her eyes for dramatic effect and leaned toward me, dropping her voice. “I sat down with Nell Massler and her group. Whoa!” Cara rolled her eyes. “Talk about the deep freeze. They totally ignored me. I went home that day and cried for an hour. I told my mom I was hitchhiking back to Pennsylvania.”
I nodded sympathetically. “I know what you mean. Lunchtime is the worst at a new school. What did you do the next day?”
She grinned. “I went in that morning to my first class and sat down next to a girl who didn’t look threatening. I made myself talk to her until she talked back, and when she did, I groveled and asked if I could sit at her lunch table. I guess she felt sorry enough for me, because she said yes. I’ve been sitting there since, even this year.” She paused, and then went on, “I wouldn’t say I’ve made any best friends, but I don’t sit alone at lunch.”
I smiled. “That was very brave of you. I would still be sitting at a table by myself if it were me.” I glanced up at the clock. Class was nearly over, and I was pleased; I had managed to have a normal conversation without hearing anything from Cara’s mind. Maybe I could pull this off after all.
I thought about inviting her to eat lunch with Michael and me, but before I could, the bell rang. I gathered my books and gave her a quick wave. “See you in History?”
She smiled. “Sure! Try to stay conscious for Mr. Frame’s battle lecture today, okay?”
I laughed and made a face before heading off to Chemistry.
I was determined to maintain a low profile in this class today, but as it turned out, that wasn’t necessary. Nell’s seat was empty.
I sat down next to Liza, who appeared completely engrossed in her Chemistry book. Casey didn’t turn from her desk either. I looked over the notes from the day before, preparing for class. Chemistry was still a challenge to me, even when Nell was absent.
“Tasmyn.” The voice startled me from my absorption, and I jerked my head up sharply. It was Ms. Lacusta, standing quite close to my desk and smiling in her odd way.
I fought to keep myself calm. Ms. Lacusta rattled me almost as much as Nell did sometimes, and today she was much too close to me for comfort. I could feel the troubling waves breaking from her direction.
“I wanted to speak to you about your last quiz,” she continued. “You did very well. I’m impressed with how quickly you’ve caught up here.” She paused, seeming to expect some reply from me.
“Thank you,” I said faintly.
“I think you would be an excellent candidate for my chemistry club,” she continued. “We meet once a week, and we do some—extracurricular Chemistry work. Participation can potentially enhance your class grade, and it will also give you the opportunity to… get to know some of your classmates.”
The idea of spending more time with Ms. Lacusta and Nell (whom I was certain was active in this club) really didn’t sound like fun to me; in fact, it sounded like a nightmare. But I really couldn’t afford to offend this teacher. Not only did she control my grade, she spooked me for reasons I couldn’t explain. I wondered how I could delicately decline. I decided on my old fall back: parental authority.
“I would have to check with my parents first. They’re very strict about my activities. Thank you, though, for the invitation,” I added.
Ms. Lacusta gazed at me for a moment, and then she merely nodded. “Of course. You’ll let me know, then.” She swept up to the front of the classroom and took her normal, ready-to-begin-class stance.
I breathed a careful and quiet sigh of relief. I was absolutely sure that I wanted nothing to do with Ms. Lacusta’s club, and I was fairly certain that my parents would back me up if I presented it to them the right way. They had never forced me to participate in anything, and I doubted they would begin now.
I wondered suddenly if Ms. Lacusta’s invitation had been prompted by Nell’s absence. The weird relationship between teacher and student gave me the creeps, the way Nell stared at Ms. Lacusta, with an odd mixture of awe and cunning, and how often Ms. Lacusta’s gaze rested on Nell.
I caught Casey and Liza exchanging furtive glances, and in my anxiety I heard Casey thinking, Can’t believe she did that… Nell is going to be livid. Marica knows she hates that girl… do I tell Nell? If I don’t, Liza might… Nell will think I’m keeping secrets… so nasty when she’s annoyed…
It was interesting to hear how Nell’s closest friends thought of her. There was more fear than affection, reminding me of the hypocrisy Michael and I had discussed earlier. I didn’t exactly feel sorry for Nell, but it made me wonder about her whole group. Perhaps even sadder than having no friends at all was knowing that the people around you were motivated by something other than friendship.