“About having a lot of older brothers. And about how no matter what I did, I felt like I could never measure up. And a little bit about how I had crushes on all their girlfriends.”
All right, so his was cooler than mine. No wonder he got into Harvard. “Can I see it?”
He shook his head. “Nah, too embarrassing for me to look at it now.”
“Did you have a crush on Izzy? Do you still?”
“If I did, you’d be the first person I’d tell,” he said. “Okay, let’s go over this essay.”
It was painful to read through it with him. I hated every word now that we’d had that conversation. George was right: it was self-satisfied and dishonest. I was trying to make myself look virtuous and caring, when I wasn’t really either.
But the college counselor had approved it and it was safe and I didn’t have any other ideas.
“You’re unusually quiet,” George observed after he’d pointed out some minor edits.
“I’m listening,” I said.
“You sure you’re not getting sick?”
“I am capable of listening quietly, you know.”
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. The doorbell rang, and I jumped to my feet. “Heather’s turn. Thank God.”
Once she had her own essay displayed on her laptop, I asked if I could read it over George’s shoulder, and she said, “If you want to, but I don’t know why you would. It’s not very good.”
“Stop that,” I said. “You’re always putting yourself down.”
“But it’s not.”
“I bet it’s better than mine. George hated mine.”
“I didn’t say that,” George protested.
“You strongly implied it.” I stood behind George’s chair so we could read Heather’s essay at the same time, George glancing up at me to make sure I was ready each time he scrolled down. Fortunately we read at the same pace.
The essay was about how Heather had found a stray dog when she was ten and helped to rescue it, and that got her interested in animal rights, so now she worked at an animal shelter once a week. She said we all had to speak for the animals because they couldn’t speak for themselves and too many were euthanized or mistreated. The essay finished with “I hope to do something to change this sad situation someday.”
“Well?” she said when we had finished.
“It’s good.” I circled around the table and sat down. “It could maybe be a little less . . .” I stopped. “I don’t know. What do you think, George? You’re the expert.”
“I’m not really an expert,” he said. Then: “You did a good job laying out the issues with stray animals and I can tell you’re passionate about the subject. It’s just . . .” He halted.
“You guys keep stopping!” she said. “It’s okay. I know it’s bad. The counselor at my school said it was fine, though. And my dad likes it.”
“It’s not bad,” George said. “It just needs more of you in it. Why did that stray dog speak to you?”
“It just started barking.”
“No, I mean, what made you want to take it under your wing?”
She giggled. “It’s funny to talk about wings when you’re discussing animals. I just loved her at first sight—she had this silly scruffy hair on top of her head that was so cute.”
“Well, see, that’s a nice detail,” he said. “Details make an essay come alive. You want this to be less about rescuing the dogs of the world and more about who you are.”
“Okay,” she said, and proved over the next half hour or so to be a far more obedient and tractable student than I was, eagerly suggesting new ideas and word choices whenever he asked her for them.
I stayed at the table with them, aimlessly surfing the net on my own computer. George had told me to edit my essay while he worked with Heather, but I just couldn’t bring myself to look at it again right away.
After they’d been working for about half an hour, the wall monitor beeped that someone was at the front gate and as soon as I hit the intercom, a voice said, “It’s Aaron, let me in!”
I had the front door open by the time his Porsche had scrunched to a stop in front of our house. “This is a surprise!” I said as he got out.
He came bounding up the steps. “I know, right? I was in the neighborhood. Well, not really, but I was in the car and bored, so I drove to the neighborhood to see you.”
“You are brilliant,” I said, and we hugged, and then I pulled him inside. “You have to meet my friend Heather. She’s the best.”
We entered the kitchen and I introduced him to Heather and reminded him who George was. “Right,” Aaron said, nodding at him. “You’re the guy who’s always here doing something.”
“That’s pretty much my job description,” George said.
Aaron turned to Heather. “Word on the street is that you’re the best. Is this true?”
She shook her head, smiling. “No. Not even close.”
“Don’t listen to her,” I said. “She is.”
“I believe you.” Aaron glanced at the table. “Wow. Three laptops. You guys must be doing something important. Should I leave?”
“God, no,” I said. “Those two are working together right now, but I wasn’t doing anything other than thinking about how hungry I am. Want to go on a food run with me?”
“Are you kidding? I fantasize about going on food runs with you.”
“What does everyone want to eat?” I asked.
“Something sweet,” Heather said. “Like cookies.”
“I’m good.” George checked his watch. “How long will you be gone? Will we have time to work more? Early applications are due in two weeks, Ellie.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t aware of that,” I said. “We’ll be back in less than half an hour. Shouldn’t affect my application process all that much.” I whisked Aaron out of the kitchen.
We picked up cupcakes at my favorite place and brought them back to the house. “You should have seen the cashier’s face,” I told George and Heather when we walked back in. “I’d forgotten to bring my wallet—”
“Oldest girl trick in the book,” Aaron put in. He fluttered his hand to his chest. “Oh, my goodness gracious me! I seem to have forgotten mah li’l ol’ purse! I guess you’ll just have to pay, you sweet, gullible young man, you!”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I sounded just like that. Anyway, Aaron pulled out his credit card and the girl at the counter looks at it and goes, ‘Wait, are you related to Michael Marquand?’ And he says, ‘Yeah, he’s my dad and he really loves your cupcakes.’ And she gets incredibly excited and says, ‘We have some new flavors you have to take for him to try’ and starts loading them into the bag. So now we have all of these!” I held up the bag. “There’s like twenty cupcakes in here. And she wouldn’t let us pay for them.”
“In retrospect, I probably should have tipped her,” Aaron said.
“Are you kidding?” I said. “You made her day. She’ll be talking for years about how Michael Marquand’s son bought her cupcakes.”
“And flirted with her,” Aaron said. “Don’t forget that I flirted with her. I’d say at least four of the freebies are flirtation cupcakes. The rest are celebrity perk cupcakes.” He pulled some out of the bag and lined them up on the counter.
“That is so cool,” Heather said. “Did you get any red velvet?”
“Sorry,” Aaron said. “That’s not a new flavor. We have one called a caramel crunch wizard, though.”
“Blizzard,” I corrected him.
“How does that make sense?”
“It’s white on top. How does wizard make sense?”
“Wizards usually have white hair,” Heather pointed out.
“There you go!” Aaron crowed. “Nice save! You are the best.”
She curtsied and giggled.
I glanced over at George. “Now you’re the one being quiet.”
“I’m tired. It’s been a long afternoon. But a productive one,” he added with a quick smile in Heather’s direction.
>
“Have a cupcake,” I said as I tossed one toward him.
He wasn’t ready and the cupcake just splooshed frosting against his fingers and landed on the floor. “Jesus, Ellie! Next time, give me a warning.”
“Next time, catch it.” I went over to the paper towel dispenser on the counter.
“You try to catch something covered in frosting.”
“Like this?” Aaron said, picking up three cupcakes and neatly juggling them. Somehow he managed to keep grabbing them by the bottoms, not the frosted tops.
“Whoa!” Heather said. “That’s so good. I tried to teach myself to juggle but I didn’t get very far.”
“Your mistake was not ignoring everything else in your life in order to master the skill,” Aaron said, focusing intently on the cupcakes circling in front of his face. “I didn’t do anything for three months except this. I failed two courses and got kicked off the swim team. But I could juggle three sharp knives and only get cut a little bit. Look, I can even do this . . .” He took a step forward and then back without missing a beat. “And this . . .” He tossed one behind his back. It sailed over his head, but then he bobbled it on the descent, lost his rhythm, and all three cupcakes came tumbling down at his feet. He gazed forlornly at the mess. “And thus endeth the juggling. I hope no one was interested in the peanut butter one.” He poked gently at one of the cupcakes with the tip of his shoe. “Or the coconut one. Or whatever that orangey one is.”
I picked up the cupcakes, threw them away, and knelt down to wipe the floor with another paper towel. “You know, you could help,” I said, looking up at him.
“Some people make the mess; some clean it. And never the twain shall meet.”
“Hey,” I said to George as I stood back up. “How’s this for a new essay? I could write about how Americans waste too much food and we should all grow consciences about that.” I tossed the paper towel in the trash.
“And once again your sincerity would shine through.” George closed his laptop. “I’ve got to go. Tell your mom I’m going to pick up those bins she needs, will you? I’ll be back tomorrow to see if they work.”
“See?” Aaron said to me in a stage whisper. “He’s always here.”
George said, “I know. I need a real job. Trust me, I’m trying.” Then he said good-bye and headed out.
I felt a little bad, although I wasn’t sure exactly why, so I ran after him. “Thanks for the essay help,” I said, holding the front door open for him. “Heather and I both needed it.”
“You’re welcome,” he said and left.
eighteen
Riley and I were finishing up lunch at one of the courtyard tables at school the next week, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I swiveled. Arianna was standing over me, clutching a plastic container and a can of coconut water. She gave a little wave with her free hand. “Hey!” she said. “Mind if I join you?”
“Of course not!” I tried to sound more enthusiastic than I felt. “There’s always room at the inn.”
She sat next to me on the bench, and took the lid off her container, which turned out to be a salad. She then started to carefully remove bits of onion one by one with a single tine of her fork and deposit them on her napkin. “I was going to sit with my usuals, when I saw you guys and thought it would be a good chance to talk about the gift drive, and also just hang out! People totally get stuck in same-friend ruts, you know? I think we should all reach out more. I talked to Mr. Bergeron about doing a ‘new friends’ day where everyone would have to sit with someone new—like randomly assigned or something—and he loved the idea and is talking to Dr. Gardiner about it. So anyway, about the gift drive? I’ve been thinking about the posters. I was just going to do a stencil letter kind of thing—but, like, in bright colors and really artistic—only then I had this brilliant thought. At least, I think it’s brilliant. You have to tell me if I’m right.”
Riley stood up. “Sorry, guys, but before we get too deep into this, I need to go read over my notes for my AP History test next period. Wish me luck.”
We did, and she left.
“Ugh, that’s zucchini!” Arianna exclaimed, glaring down at her salad. “I thought it was cucumber. Who puts raw zucchini in a salad?” She got busy picking the zucchini out and piling it on top of the onion.
“So what’s your idea?” I asked.
“Okay, you know those Uncle Sam posters? The ones where he points and says, I want YOU?” She switched her fork to her left hand so she could demonstrate the pose.
“Yeah.”
“We do that. Except we say, I want YOU . . . to give to the gift drive.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “It’s a little military-ish, though, isn’t it? Wasn’t that for the draft?”
“No, it’s okay because we won’t actually use Uncle Sam.” She switched her fork back to her right hand. “That’s the whole point—we use your stepdad! Can you imagine how cool it would be for kids to walk down the hallway and see Luke Weston pointing at them from a bunch of posters? I bet they’d all notice it.”
“Yeah, no,” I said. “Let’s not do that. The stencils sound fine.”
“Oh.” She raised her chin a little. “It was just an idea.”
“I know.”
“I just thought he might want to help. Since it’s for a good cause.”
“Yeah. It’s just that I try not to drag him into school stuff.”
“But couldn’t you ask him? Maybe he’d want to do it.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Do you want me to ask him? Since it makes you uncomfortable to do it? I could come over sometime and just put it out there.” Big smile. Lots of teeth. “I’m willing to be pushy for a good cause.”
I believed her. “Let me think about it,” I said again.
She shook her finger at me playfully. “Don’t forget the goal is to get a lot of people involved in this! And there’s nothing wrong with using connections—if I had a celebrity in my family, I’d make him the mascot of the whole program.” She picked up her fork again and stabbed some lettuce, then stopped as she was raising it to her mouth to pluck off another microscopic piece of something before finally eating it. She crunched on the lettuce and said, “I mean, most people like to do charitable work.”
“Luke does tons for charity,” I said, stung by the implication that he didn’t. “I just don’t want to drag him into a school thing. For both our sakes.”
“I bet he’d be happy to do it. I don’t see how it would hurt to ask.”
“Right,” I said, just wanting to end the conversation. I stood up. “I’ve got to grab some books before my next class. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay,” she said. “You sure you don’t want me to come by and ask him myself?”
“I’m sure,” I said, and walked away.
Mom asked me what I thought we should all be for the Marquands’ Halloween party. She wanted it to be something Jacob would like since he’d be going, too.
I told her I’d already made a costume plan with Aaron, but that I’d double-check. I sent him a text.
Still on for Halloween? Me Suzy, you Shakusky?
Shit—totally forgot. Sorry. Crystal got us all themed costumes, even Mia. Must do what the generalissima says. You shd still be Suzy tho—you’d be so cute.
But I couldn’t be Suzy without Shakusky. She was part of a set.
I found Mom and told her I was in on whatever she decided. We talked about it for a while and decided we should do Peter Pan, since that was Jacob’s current favorite Disney movie.
Halloween was the next Friday night. Riley and Skyler asked me if I wanted to do something with them. “We could hand out candy at your house,” Riley suggested hopefully.
“No one comes to our house,” I said, which was true, because we had a gate and a long driveway, and all the houses in our neighborhood were too far apart to make trick-or-treating worthwhile. “I’m going to a party, anyway.”
“Whose?” Riley asked, with the stricken ex
pression of someone who thinks she’s been socially marginalized. I quickly explained that it was a family thing.
We gathered in the kitchen before we left for the party so we could take a few family photos. I felt a little stupid in my green tights and tunic but I really loved the over-the-knee slouchy brown boots Mom had let me buy. I’d been coveting them for months, but she kept saying they were too expensive until the day before, when I’d argued that they’d work for Halloween and she gave in. She was funny about money, spending lavishly one second and suddenly frugal the next—her current lifestyle clashing with old habits.
We’d assumed Jacob would want to be Peter Pan, but when we showed him a picture of the costume and said, “For Jakie,” he’d shaken his head and pointed to a picture of Michael, the little boy with the teddy bear, and then pointed to himself and said, “Jake.” Which for him was practically a sentence. So I became Peter by default. As Mom put it, “It’s either you or Luke, and Luke already said it won’t be him. He’s very excited about Captain Hook’s mustache.”
“Why not you?” I asked. “Isn’t Peter Pan usually played by a middle-aged woman?”
“That sentence alone is enough to send me into therapy for five years,” she said. “Green tights would push me over the edge.”
She had been torn for a while between Tinker Bell and Wendy, but decided that since she’d probably be holding Jacob/Michael for most of the party, Wendy made more sense. “Plus I’ll be wearing a nightgown, so I can go right to sleep afterward,” she said. “It’s my ideal party outfit.”
Lorena took the photos for us. Mom held Jacob, Jacob held his teddy bear, and I stood next to them with my hands on my hips while Luke glowered appropriately from behind us.
Jacob loved taking photos: the second he spotted a camera or phone pointed at him, he froze, smiled, and said “Eee!” which was his version of saying cheese. He did that now, and Lorena took a bunch of photos on my phone and then she gave him a big kiss on the cheek and said good-bye.
Normally we wouldn’t bring Jacob to a big party, since they overwhelmed him, but Michael always hired a cast of young actors to dress in costumes and man booths in the backyard stocked with candy and toys, so kids could trick-or-treat without leaving the house, and Jacob was old enough this year to join in.