Read Her Hidden Past Page 15


  The rest of Brooklyn’s first day at school was less eventful, for which she was extremely grateful. She needed to catch her breath get a break from the drama. On every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday they had art class with Mr. Groebel during sixth period. He also taught music class during the sixth period on Tuesday and Thursday. The class was working on perspective drawings. Brooklyn was both a fantastic and a horrible art student. Although her work never really looked pretty, she always got good grades because she followed directions well. Overall, she was happy that all of the harder-thinking classes were out of the way.

  After art class, she and Ben had gym class with Mr. Peters. He was a younger, good looking man in his late twenties, who seemed perfectly comfortable with the large whistle hanging around his neck. He had short dark hair and a warm, wide smile which displayed perfect white teeth. Because of his age, he seemed to have a connection with the students that the previous teachers did not seem to have. This was especially true about his connection with the girls.

  Brooklyn had trouble opening her gym locker. There was a pretty brunette at the locker next her hers named Blair Foster. She helped Brooklyn open her locker while giving her all the gossip about Mr. Peters and the tight T-shirts he wore. Blair confirmed what Brooklyn had already concluded: there was not one girl in the school that did not have a crush on Mr. Peters.

  They changed into their gym uniforms during the conversation. Blair was petite like Brooklyn, with long, dark-brown hair, which was slightly curled. She looked into her locker mirror and reapplied a shiny raspberry lip gloss before slamming her locker shut. Brooklyn had the impression that Blair was prepping more for an encounter with Mr. Peters or some of the male students rather than for a competitive hour in the gym. What kind of school was this where the girls felt like they had to put on make-up before gym class?

  “Are you ready, new girl?” she asked. “Dodge ball can get a little violent.”

  “I’m ready,” smiled Brooklyn.

  It was nice to talk to another girl. Mr. Peters divided up the teams. Ben, Nate, Sara, and Stephanie were on the other team. Brooklyn was happy that Blair was on her team with Jordan and Adam. The balls were lined up in the middle of the gym. Mr. Peters blew the whistle and they all went charging toward the balls. Brooklyn was one of the first to the line and grabbed a ball. The other team started firing balls, and she warded them off using her ball as defense.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sara and Stephanie in the corner looking at their nails. Brooklyn wound up and fired a ball right at Sara. It hit her directly on her forehead.

  “Ahh!” she shrieked. “Who did that?”

  Mr. Peters started laughing along with the rest of the class, except Stephanie, who was trying to console Sara. “This is part of the game, Sara,” said Mr. Peters. “Stop fooling around and play the game. Have you forgotten that gym is a class and it is an important part of the school day?”

  “Fine,” she answered as she rolled her eyes. She walked up and stood behind Ben.

  “Don’t let the ball hit me again.”

  “Okay, but when I move, you better move with me.”

  Brooklyn was out of the game a few seconds later. Blair followed shortly and ran over to sit with Brooklyn. Sara was laughing and screaming when the balls were whizzing by, and yelling at Ben to protect her.

  Blair said, “Man, she nauseates me. Nice shot, by the way.”

  “Thanks. I would have admitted I was the one who hit her, but my cousin would have never heard the end of it.”

  “Really? Who’s your cousin?”

  “Ben Thompson.”

  “Oh, big Ben. He’s cool. Ben is really good friends with my boyfriend Jordan.” She pointed over to him as he was aggressively trying to dodge balls. “I can’t stand Sara, or her followers.”

  “I don’t know her, but . . .”

  “It’s cool. Where did you come from?”

  Brooklyn took a deep breath. “San Francisco.”

  “Really? Why would you move to Michigan?”

  “My dad’s job,” answered Brooklyn. “My parents are in Europe for a couple of months, so I…”

  “Got the short end of the stick?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Are you close to Ben and Gabe?”

  “Umm . . . I don’t really know them all that well. But I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “I’m sorry. Well, your cousin is a hoot. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, at least until she came along. His priorities can be a little mixed up sometimes, but . . . I mean, he’s really good friends with Jordan, so, you know I like him and all. I just think that he’s changed a little. Ben used to ignore Sara before. And she’s been the same old spoiled Sara in the eight years I’ve gone to school with her. But Gabe is really sweet. We used to ride the same bus to elementary and middle school. I miss seeing him around, but he’ll be here next year. And he’s got some nice friends, too, so you should hang out with him more.”

  “Yeah, I probably will.”

  “Wait, we should hang out sometime. I dance a lot—ballet— so I don’t have a lot of free time. But we can be friends. Unless you only have room for Lizzy.”

  “I’d really like that,” smiled Brooklyn. “I have room for more than one friend.”

  “Good. She peed in her pants one day in gym class and nobody has forgotten it. The name Lizzy Wizzy has stuck ever since. Hey, do you have a Facebook?” asked Blair.

  “No,” replied Brooklyn. Only, she lied. Well, not technically. Amber had Facebook. But Brooklyn did not.

  “Oh. Ben can help you. Sign up. I’ll look you up tonight after ballet.”

  “Everyone’s back in for the new game!” shouted Mr. Peters. After class the girls changed out of their gym clothes. Sara approached them and slammed Blair’s locker closed.

  “I know it was you,” she said as she glared at Blair.

  “What was me?”

  “I know you were the one who threw that ball at my head.”

  “Are you serious, princess? It’s gym class. Anyway, I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of throwing anything your way if we were the last two out there.”

  Sara glared at Blair. “I’m watching you, bitch.”

  “Thanks for that,” whispered Brooklyn when Sara was out of earshot.

  “We have a lot of history. She doesn’t bother me. Talk to you tonight!”

  Blair trotted away and Brooklyn stood there for a second and leaned her head against the inside of the open locker door. The cold felt good against her forehead. Her first day of school was finally over, but her first, second, and third impressions of Sara were less than impressive. In fact, Brooklyn downright didn’t like her. Besides being conceited and selfish, she was utterly mean. But she was Ben’s girlfriend, so she would have to learn to play nice. Brooklyn closed her locker and picked up her bag.

  When she walked out of the locker room, she saw Ben down the hallway. He was talking with Sara and he appeared once again to be in defensive mode. As Brooklyn approached them, she decided not to stop. She didn’t want to know what the argument was about this time.

  “Brooklyn!” Sara bellowed after her.

  Brooklyn stopped and turned around. She forced a smile on her face. “Yeah?”

  “How was your first day?” The smile across Sara’s face looked phony.

  “It was pretty good. Thanks for asking.”

  “I know we didn’t really get a chance to talk, since you were busy defending Lizzy at lunch. But seriously, we’ll catch up tomorrow.”

  “Umm . . . okay. That sounds . . . fine,” said Brooklyn, trying to look more excited than she sounded.

  “Oh, and Brooklyn? About Blair."

  “I think she’s nice,” Brooklyn interjected. After all, Blair had saved her from Sara. Defending her was the right thing to do.

  “Nice? Uh-huh. Well, she’s kind of pathetic, a real do
wner. I mean, it’s your choice and all, but I would really choose your friends a little more carefully.”

  Brooklyn’s smile faded. Sara was unbelievable. Brooklyn started walking slowly toward the exit. She heard kissing and giggling and thought she was going to be sick. Blair was right about Ben’s being brainwashed.

  Mary was parked right out front and Gabe was already waiting in the car. Brooklyn climbed in the back seat next to him.

  “So, how was it?” Mary asked, intrigued.

  “Umm . . . it was good, I guess. Better than I expected.”

  “Did you have the pleasure of meeting Sara yet?”

  “Uh-huh,” said Brooklyn.

  “And, what did you think?”

  “I think that she’s a stuck-up little snot who is obviously living in a delusional world that she probably named after herself. She’s phony and she’s mean and I have no idea how I am going to avoid being her enemy.”

  “Awesome!” yelped Gabe.

  “That bad, huh?” asked Mary.

  “Yeah, she really is. On a good note, I met a girl named Blair Foster and she was really nice to me, especially on my first day and all. I think I’m going to get along great with her. Oh, and Sara clearly doesn’t like her. She called her a . . . a really bad word, to her face.”

  “From what I know about Blair, I think she’s a really good choice for a friend. A few years back, she and Sara were inseparable.”

  “Really? Blair didn’t say anything about that.”

  “I’m not really sure what happened. A lot of friendships change between middle school and high school but I am confident that it was Sara that initiated whatever drove them apart.”

 

 

  CHAPTER 12