Every pamphlet and brochure featured a smiling group of students walking to class or gathered in the halls. But one of the pictures made Aria stop.
Lily Pierce had her arm slung around Caroline Mason’s shoulder, their heads together. They were both grinning. The girls didn’t just look happy. They looked inseparable.
Aria drew her finger lightly over the photograph, and blue lines appeared, like wisps of smoke, wrapping around the two girls. A small purple thumbtack took shape in Aria’s palm, and she pinned the pamphlet to the tree house wall.
Her gaze drifted outside to Caroline’s house. The girl in the photo hardly resembled the one across the street.
But that was okay.
Aria was here to help.
“Hurry up, Jess, before somebody sees.”
“Stop watching me and keep an eye out.”
The girls were in the gym, huddled in front of one of the lockers before the bell rang. They’d gotten there early. And so had Aria. She stood invisible, watching as one of them — Jessabel — squeezed packets of ketchup onto a girl’s gym clothes. Caroline’s gym clothes.
“Did Lily tell you to do this?” asked the other girl.
“No,” said Jessabel, tearing open another packet. “It’s called initiative. You have to take it.”
Aria frowned. She had spent the morning invisible, wandering the school, listening to the girls in the halls and the classrooms. Getting to know them, and the things they had to say, about life, about school, about Lily, about Caroline. From what she could tell, the students fell into three camps where Caroline Mason was concerned: those who thought she deserved what was happening to her, those who didn’t but weren’t willing to get involved, and those who might actually talk to Caroline if she ever talked to them. Which she apparently hadn’t.
Aria had been in the hall when she overhead Jessabel’s plan.
“Almost done,” said Jessabel now.
“Hurry up,” nagged the other girl. “Class is about to start.”
Aria watched, conflicted about what to do.
She thought about becoming visible and stopping the girls, or staying invisible and scaring them away. But neither of those things would make them stop tormenting Caroline. So Aria stood and watched and chewed her lip and waited. And when the girls were done, and they dumped the empty packets in the trash and hurried away, Aria flickered back into sight and approached Caroline’s locker.
The built-in lock on the door was broken. Aria pressed her hand to the metal, and by the time her fingers fell back to her side, the door was fixed. And so were the clothes inside. She felt rather satisfied with herself, and went to find her own locker, passing Caroline on the way (Caroline kept her head down, and didn’t seem to notice her, even though she was definitely visible again).
The locker room started filling up. Aria watched Caroline as she reached her locker and ran her hand over the repaired lock. She watched her turn the little dials and open the door, watched her shoulders slump with relief when she found the clothes inside untouched.
Aria smiled.
And then someone screamed.
It was more of a screech, actually. Coming from Jessabel’s locker. Aria crossed her arms. It had seemed like the only fair thing to do. At least until a second later, when Jessabel tore around the corner, clutching her ketchup-splattered gym clothes. She came barreling toward Caroline.
“What did you do?” growled Jessabel.
Caroline’s eyes widened. “I didn’t —”
“What did you do?” Jessabel shoved the ruined gym clothes against Caroline. Aria frowned. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
“Hey,” she said, coming forward. “It wasn’t Caroline’s fault.”
Jessabel spun on Aria. “Was it you?” She charged toward her. “How? How did you —”
“Jessabel,” came a voice, and everyone looked up to see Lily standing there in her gym clothes, Erica and Whitney behind her. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” Lily asked, scrunching up her nose.
Jessabel’s mouth opened and closed like a fish as she clutched the splattered gym clothes. “I was just … trying to …”
“To what?” asked Lily with a smirk. “Look ridiculous?” Erica giggled at Lily’s shoulder.
Jessabel turned bright red.
Aria stared at Lily, shocked. Was she standing up for Caroline?
“Go get cleaned up, before anyone sees you looking like that.”
Jessabel huffed and stormed away.
“I think you upset her,” said Whitney softly.
“Serves her right,” said Lily, running a hand through her hair. “That’s what happens when you mix with trash.” She looked right at Caroline when she said it.
So much for Good Lily, thought Aria. Blue smoke or not, she needed a talking-to. Aria clenched her hands and took a step toward her, but Caroline caught her shoulder.
Don’t, she mouthed.
Lily’s eyes slid from Caroline to Aria, and hovered there for a long moment. And then Lily turned and left, her minions bobbing in her wake. Caroline’s hand fell from Aria’s shoulder as she looked down at her polo. It was splattered with ketchup from Jessabel’s attack. Her jaw clenched. The blue smoke coiled around her.
“Hey,” said Aria gently. “I have an extra shirt. Do you want it?”
After a moment, Caroline nodded reluctantly. “Thanks,” she said, looking around. “But don’t let anyone see. It will just make it worse.”
“Our secret,” said Aria, managing a smile, and producing a clean polo from behind her back. And for an instant, Caroline smiled, too. And then the coach whistled, and the smile was gone. The girls got changed and went to join the class.
Westgate’s gym was nothing like the last school Aria went to. Here there were tennis courts, and a field, and a massive track, and a fancy swimming pool with three diving boards at different heights.
The rest of the seventh graders were all on the track, some already jogging. Lily and Erica and Whitney stood stretching, and Jessabel sat on the bleachers wearing a spare pair of gym clothes that were obviously three sizes too large. She glared daggers at Aria and Caroline as they made their way to the track.
Caroline said nothing to Aria as they started running, and Aria stayed a stride or two behind the other girl. But at least Aria knew that Caroline knew she wasn’t alone.
For a while, as they jogged, the blue smoke that circled Caroline’s shoulders thinned.
Just a little.
But it was a start.
The noise of the lunchroom washed over Caroline as she clutched her tray. Here she was again. The worst part of her day.
Once again, she felt lost in space. She found herself scanning the room for Aria, but she didn’t see her. Girls shouldered past to get to their seats, one knocking into Caroline hard enough that she nearly dropped her lunch tray. She started to make her way toward Table 12, but she couldn’t do it, not after yesterday, not with something smells and trash still echoing in her head.
So Caroline took a deep breath, turned, and left the cafeteria.
Compared to the noisy lunchroom, the hallway was quiet, and through the doors, the courtyard outside was silent, but not in a heavy, lonely way. It was peaceful. She could imagine she was somewhere else. Caroline carried her tray to the steps, and sat down.
She’d just started eating when someone above her cleared his throat, and she looked up to see Mr. Cahill, the assistant headmaster, staring down at her.
“Miss Mason,” he said, gesturing to the tray. “What is this?”
“My lunch?” ventured Caroline.
“I can see that,” said Mr. Cahill. “What I can’t see is why it — and you — are out here instead of in the cafeteria with the rest of your class.”
Because I lost my friends, Caroline wanted to say, and my table, and no one will look at me, let alone talk to me, and yesterday I got hit with a tray of ketchup.
But she didn’t say that. All she said was, “Because
it’s a nice day.”
“That may be,” said Mr. Cahill. “But all seventh graders are expected to eat lunch together. In the cafeteria. It’s been scientifically proven that eating lunch together creates a sense of community. Don’t you want a sense of community, Miss Mason?”
Caroline stared up into Mr. Cahill’s face. She felt like she was trapped in some kind of sick joke. “Yes, sir, but I can’t …” She almost said she couldn’t go back in there.
“Can’t what, Miss Mason?”
Caroline looked down at her tray.
“Did something happen?” he pressed. “Is something wrong?”
Caroline hesitated, then sighed. “No, sir.”
“Then unless you want to be issued an infraction, I’m going to have to ask you to go back inside,” said Mr. Cahill. “It may not seem like it, but social interaction is an integral part of —”
Just then the doors burst open, and Mr. Cahill and Caroline both turned to see Aria bouncing through, carrying her tray.
“Sorry I’m late!” she said, plopping down beside Caroline.
Caroline felt a rush of relief. “See?” she said to Mr. Cahill. “I’m not eating alone. There’s plenty of social interaction happening here.”
Mr. Cahill examined both of them. “All right,” he said. “But why are you out here and not in the cafeteria?”
“I just started here,” Aria said brightly. “Caroline is my student ambassador. The front office told her to show me around, and tell me how things work so I can get caught up as quickly as possible. Caroline thought it would be easiest for us to meet during lunch so we could talk. No time to waste. This is a hard school, and every moment you’re not ahead, you’re falling behind.”
It sounded like a line from one of Westgate’s brochures.
“Besides, it’s awfully loud in the lunch room,” continued Aria. “And a bit overwhelming. So Caroline agreed to meet me out here where it was calmer.”
Mr. Cahill turned to Caroline. “Is that true, Miss Mason?”
Caroline nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Mr. Cahill gave a small huff. “All right, but today only, ladies. Tomorrow it’s back to the lunch room, understand?”
“Sure thing,” said Aria.
As soon as he was gone, Aria slumped back against a stone pillar. “He’s pretty stern.”
“You didn’t have to cover for me,” said Caroline, picking at her food.
Aria shrugged. “I don’t mind. You could be my student ambassador. They never gave me one yesterday. And the lunch room is really noisy.”
Caroline nodded, and went back to poking her food. When she snuck a glance at Aria’s tray, she saw that it was covered in fruit. Apple, banana, orange, grapes, even a kiwi.
“I’m trying to decide which one is my favorite,” said Aria, as if that explained everything. “I think it’s important to know. And I thought it would be easier if I just focused on one food group at a time.”
Caroline laughed. Not a loud laugh, and not a very strong one, but the sound of it still surprised her. And for a second, everything felt a little lighter. “I guess it does make sense,” she said. “In a weird kind of way.”
Aria beamed, and picked up her apple. “So,” she said, biting into it, “what are you doing out here?”
Caroline’s spirits sank again. “I needed some fresh air.”
Aria tilted her head back. “It is hard to sit inside when the weather’s this nice.” She looked back at Caroline. “So it had nothing to do with Lily?”
Caroline frowned. “I didn’t want to sit alone.”
“There’s more than one table in the cafeteria. Why not sit at one of the others?”
Caroline shook her head. “Even if I sat with someone else,” she explained, “I’d still be sitting alone.” Aria didn’t understand what it was like. To be hated. To be ignored. Up until this year, Caroline hadn’t known how it felt, either. But now she did, and with that knowledge came a certainty that the other girls at Westgate would never be her friends.
“Well,” said Aria, looking up past the buildings. “This is better than a lunch table. Even if it’s just for today.”
Caroline followed her gaze. The sky was streaked with clouds. Back when she and Lily were BFFs, they’d pick out shapes and make up stories about them. Caroline saw pirate ships and mountains and wolves, but Lily always said she saw castles. Sometimes the castles had princesses trapped inside, high up in towers and guarded by dragons.
But these clouds weren’t the kind for finding shapes. They were long and thin.
“Those are my favorite,” Caroline said, pointing at them. “People usually like cumulus clouds, those big, puffy ones, but these are stratus. They look like someone drew them with a piece of chalk, but they make the best sunsets.”
“Sorry,” added Caroline when Aria didn’t answer. “I know that’s nerdy.”
“Don’t be sorry,” said Aria. “It’s awesome. You’re really smart,” she added. She didn’t say it like it was a bad thing. “Why would I tease you for that?”
Caroline sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Hey, Lily?”
“Yeah, Car?”
“Want to know something cool?”
It was a summer night, a week before the start of seventh grade, and they were stretched out on the trampoline in Caroline’s backyard.
Lily propped her head on her elbow. “Sure.”
Caroline gazed up at the stars. “Light takes a really long time to travel through space, so when we look at the night sky, we’re actually looking at a past version of it.”
The universe was so amazing, and vast, and full of cool facts and secrets, and the thought of all the things she knew and didn’t know and wanted to know made Caroline smile.
But Lily only snorted, and slumped back down. “You sound like such a nerd,” she said. Caroline deflated. “Promise me you’re not going to go around sounding off random fact bites when school starts.”
Caroline sighed. “I promise.”
“Hey now, don’t pout,” said Lily. “I’m only looking out for you.”
The first bell rang, a warning that lunch would be over in five minutes.
Caroline blinked, dragging herself out of the memory. Aria had collected several brightly colored leaves and was twirling them between her fingers. She’s a little strange, Caroline thought. But she liked how Aria didn’t seem to hide her strangeness. Caroline envied that.
She got to her feet with her tray, but the thought of returning to the cafeteria made her feel sick.
“Here,” said Aria, holding out her hand. “I’ll take it back for you.”
“Are you sure?” asked Caroline.
“It’s no big deal,” she said. “I’ll see you in science.”
“Hey,” Caroline called after her.
“Yeah?”
Caroline hesitated. She didn’t want to incur Lily’s wrath. But she was tired of having no orbit. “If we pair up again,” she said, “do you want to be my partner?”
To her relief, Aria broke into a grin. “Sure!”
She ducked inside, and Caroline stood there, feeling something like hope for the first time in ages.
Aria made her way back to the cafeteria without spilling anything, which was quite a feat considering there were still a lot of loose grapes (they were her least favorite) as well as a half-eaten apple rolling around on her plate. She was returning the trays to their proper shelves when a voice behind her said, “There you are.”
Aria turned to find Lily, Erica, and Whitney standing side by side, forming a wall of plaid skirts and white polos. Lily was actually a half step in front of the other two girls. Not far enough to seem apart, just far enough to show she was the one in charge. Her blue smoke swirled around her even as she smiled.
“It’s Ari, isn’t it?”
“Aria,” she corrected. “Aria Blue.”
“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Lily asked with a sweet smile.
Aria nodded. “I star
ted yesterday.”
“Ah,” said Lily, tilting her head. “Well, that explains it.”
“Explains what?” asked Aria.
Lily ignored the question. “See, Erica?” she said to the girl on her right. “I told you there was a perfectly good reason. I bet nobody told her.”
“Told me what?” asked Aria.
Lily turned her attention back to her. “You’ve been hanging out with Caroline Mason.” It wasn’t a question.
Aria stood up straighter. “Yeah. I have.”
“You’re not supposed to do that,” cut in Erica.
Lily held up her hand and gave an exasperated sigh.
“You’re new at Westgate, so maybe you didn’t get the memo, but Caroline Mason does not exist.”
“Of course she does,” said Aria.
Lily’s smile disappeared. “No. She doesn’t. You don’t talk to her. You don’t hang out with her. You definitely don’t become her friend. Caroline Mason is off-limits.”
“Why?” challenged Aria.
“Because I said so,” said Lily. And then she smiled again. “Starting at a new school is hard, Ari. You want to make friends. You want to fit in. I get it. But you want to make the right friends. You don’t need to waste your time on Caroline.”
“I —”
“Why don’t you come sit with us at lunch tomorrow?” offered Lily sweetly. “Table Seven. We’ll help you settle in.” She closed the last of the gap between them. “You get to choose the kind of life you have here at Westgate. I can make it awesome, or I can make it awful. But it’s your choice, so make the right one.”
The bell rang overhead, and Lily flashed her brightest, whitest smile. “Erica, you and Ari have science now, right? Why don’t you walk to class together?”
Aria felt dazed from her encounter with Lily. Looking at Lily Pierce was like looking at two images of somebody at the same time, overlapping so that both of them were blurry. There was Lily, who smiled and bossed and acted superior. And there was Lily’s smoke, which was full of sadness and frustration and worry, things she kept beneath the surface, behind that smile.