“What happened?”
Ella starts walking again. “I really have no idea. It happened my last week at camp. I didn’t find out till I got home and my parentstold me. They said he had a seizure or something and drowned in the bathtub. I was like, Why didn’t you call me? They were all, Oh, it would have been too upsetting for you—meaning, God forbid you don’t lose every last ounce you can. But it sucks. I didn’t even get to go to his funeral.”
“Were you guys close?”
Ella makes a face. “Um, not amazingly. My mom’s super competitive with Cassie’s mom, and there’s always drama, drama. And Eamonn was cute but a little hard to be around. Still …”
Still, you want to be included in your own family. I nod. “Your poor cousin,” I say. “Was she there when it happened?”
“Yeah, she was,” says Ella. “In fact, she was supposed to be taking care of him. Their parents weren’t home.”
“Oh, God. She must feel awful.”
“I wouldn’t know,” says Ella. “Everyone’s like, Don’t bring it up, whatever you do! My mom said, Your aunt and uncle are very fragile right now, leave them be. Cassie won’t share with me, she thinks I’m a grade-A moron. Which, you know, maybe I am, but she could be nicer about it. All I heard was that she wants everyone to call her Cassandra now. No more Cassie.”
Weirdly, I get that. Wanting to be a different person after something awful happens to you. Thinking, Yeah, everything’ll be fine if I’m not the person who went through that hideous crap.
Maybe I should change my name too. We’re a block away from school now. It’d be nice to be able to say, “The craziness this summer? The Oliver/Chloe drama? No, that was some other girl. Toni, yeah. I’m not her. I’m … Anastasia.”
At the last crossing, I think, If the light changes to green before I count to five, I will be safe. If it changes after five, I am in danger.
One, two, three …
Please change, I think. Seriously, universe. Do me a favor.
Four, five … six … seven …
It goes green.
I am so screwed.
CHAPTER TWO
OUR SCHOOL IS THE DEKALB Community School. It was started by professors at DeKalb University so they’d have a cheap private school to send their kids to, although they’ve started letting nonstaff kids in if they pay more. My dad teaches history at DeKalb, which is why I’m here. Ella’s mom teaches math, her dad economics—which Ella says makes her feel even stupider than she is.
Our building used to be an old Catholic school. My mom says that when they moved in, the place was “a horror,” with green walls and dark stairways with metal stairs, that felt like a prison. There were all these crosses and religious statues in the classrooms. “All these saints in death agony and Marys on the half shell,” my mom says.
DeKalb got rid of the statues, painted all the walls white, and replaced the Join the Jesuits posters with Clean Up Your Community! signs. They threw out the old wood desks and replaced them with big, round white tables. The windows are big, therooms bright and sunny. There are Smart Boards in all the classrooms. The cafeteria serves organic food. You look at the kids in the halls, chattering away, and you can’t believe this was ever a place with nuns, crosses, and black robes, where everyone was obsessed with sinning and death and God’s ultimate judgment.
Outside the entrance, there’s a plaza encircled by plants and shrubs. Right now, it’s packed with kids. As I walk through the crowd and into school on this first day of my junior year, I wonder, Is Chloe already inside? Are her friends with her? Are they waiting for me?
Get ready for hell
.
I only have to survive for half a day, I tell myself as we wade into the crowded lobby. The first day of school starts at eight-thirty and ends at twelve. You have to be in your homeroom by nine. The Welcome Back to School assembly for juniors starts at ten. Then you register for classes, and
Ella starts walking again. “I really have no idea. It happened my last week at camp. I didn’t find out till I got home and my parentstold me. They said he had a seizure or something and drowned in the bathtub. I was like, Why didn’t you call me? They were all, Oh, it would have been too upsetting for you—meaning, God forbid you don’t lose every last ounce you can. But it sucks. I didn’t even get to go to his funeral.”
“Were you guys close?”
Ella makes a face. “Um, not amazingly. My mom’s super competitive with Cassie’s mom, and there’s always drama, drama. And Eamonn was cute but a little hard to be around. Still …”
Still, you want to be included in your own family. I nod. “Your poor cousin,” I say. “Was she there when it happened?”
“Yeah, she was,” says Ella. “In fact, she was supposed to be taking care of him. Their parents weren’t home.”
“Oh, God. She must feel awful.”
“I wouldn’t know,” says Ella. “Everyone’s like, Don’t bring it up, whatever you do! My mom said, Your aunt and uncle are very fragile right now, leave them be. Cassie won’t share with me, she thinks I’m a grade-A moron. Which, you know, maybe I am, but she could be nicer about it. All I heard was that she wants everyone to call her Cassandra now. No more Cassie.”
Weirdly, I get that. Wanting to be a different person after something awful happens to you. Thinking, Yeah, everything’ll be fine if I’m not the person who went through that hideous crap.
Maybe I should change my name too. We’re a block away from school now. It’d be nice to be able to say, “The craziness this summer? The Oliver/Chloe drama? No, that was some other girl. Toni, yeah. I’m not her. I’m … Anastasia.”
At the last crossing, I think, If the light changes to green before I count to five, I will be safe. If it changes after five, I am in danger.
One, two, three …
Please change, I think. Seriously, universe. Do me a favor.
Four, five … six … seven …
It goes green.
I am so screwed.
CHAPTER TWO
OUR SCHOOL IS THE DEKALB Community School. It was started by professors at DeKalb University so they’d have a cheap private school to send their kids to, although they’ve started letting nonstaff kids in if they pay more. My dad teaches history at DeKalb, which is why I’m here. Ella’s mom teaches math, her dad economics—which Ella says makes her feel even stupider than she is.
Our building used to be an old Catholic school. My mom says that when they moved in, the place was “a horror,” with green walls and dark stairways with metal stairs, that felt like a prison. There were all these crosses and religious statues in the classrooms. “All these saints in death agony and Marys on the half shell,” my mom says.
DeKalb got rid of the statues, painted all the walls white, and replaced the Join the Jesuits posters with Clean Up Your Community! signs. They threw out the old wood desks and replaced them with big, round white tables. The windows are big, therooms bright and sunny. There are Smart Boards in all the classrooms. The cafeteria serves organic food. You look at the kids in the halls, chattering away, and you can’t believe this was ever a place with nuns, crosses, and black robes, where everyone was obsessed with sinning and death and God’s ultimate judgment.
Outside the entrance, there’s a plaza encircled by plants and shrubs. Right now, it’s packed with kids. As I walk through the crowd and into school on this first day of my junior year, I wonder, Is Chloe already inside? Are her friends with her? Are they waiting for me?
Get ready for hell
.
I only have to survive for half a day, I tell myself as we wade into the crowded lobby. The first day of school starts at eight-thirty and ends at twelve. You have to be in your homeroom by nine. The Welcome Back to School assembly for juniors starts at ten. Then you register for classes, and
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