Anne of Greenville

DearReader,
IamsoincrediblypleasedandproudtoshareMarikoTamaki’sAnneofGreenvillewithyou!Forthedebutfrommynewstudio,Iwantedtotakeabelovedclassic—AnneofGreenGables—andupdateitforthemodernreader.AnneShirleyhasalwaysbeenoneofmyfavoriteheroinesofalltime—spunky,eccentric,warm,kind,andover-the-top—andMariko’sadaptationbringsusanAnnecompletelyofthemomentbutwiththesamelovable,garrulous,outsizepersonalitythathasendearedhertoourheartsforever.
Annehastwomoms,abestfriendnamedBerry,andanirrepressibleurgetoshakethingsupinthissmallestofsmalltownsthatshefindsherselfin.HerstorymademelaughoutloudandshedahappytearortwoasAnnebattlesclosed-mindednessandfindstruelove.
Thisjoyous,diverse,feel-goodstoryinspiredbyabelovedclassicistheepitomeofwhatMelissadelaCruzStudiohopestobringtothepublishingandentertainmentworlds.
IhopeAnneofGreenvilleroller-skatesintoyourheartwithacrashasitdidmine.
MelissadelaCruz
Textcopyright?2022byDisneyEnterprises,Inc.
Allrightsreserved.PublishedbyHyperion,animprintofBuenaVistaBooks,Inc.Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,electronicormechanical,includingphotocopying,recording,orbyanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,withoutwrittenpermissionfromthepublisher.ForinformationaddressHyperion,77West66thStreet,NewYork,NewYork10023.
FirstEdition,October2022
DesignedbyMarciSenders
Illustrationscopyright?2022byShutterstock
LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationData
Names:Tamaki,Mariko,author.?Montgomery,L.M.(LucyMaud),1874–1942.AnneofGreenGables.
Title:AnneofGreenville/byMarikoTamaki.
Description:Firstedition.?LosAngeles;NewYork:MDLCStudio,2022.?Audience:Ages14–18.?Audience:Grades10–12.?Summary:InthiscontemporaryretellingofAnneofGreenGables,AnneShirley,aqueer,half-Japanesediscosuperfan,movestoatownthatseemstoosmallforherbigpersonalityandwhereshebecomesembroiledinaseriesofdramaticandunfortunateevents.
Identifiers:LCCN2021050338?ISBN9781368078405(hardcover)?ISBN9781368083379(ebook)
Subjects:CYAC:Bullying—Fiction.?Lesbians—Fiction.?Raciallymixedpeople—Fiction.?Adoption—Fiction.?Cityandtownlife—Fiction.?Highschools—Fiction.?Schools—Fiction.?LCGFT:Novels.
Classification:LCCPZ7.T1587An2022?DDC[Fic]—dc23
LCrecordavailableathttps://lccn.loc.gov/2021050338
Visitwww.hyperionteens.comContents
TitlePage
Copyright
Dedication
NotefromthePublisher
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Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthorForallthekindredspiritsoutthereNOTEFROMTHEPUBLISHER
Thisstoryexploresexperiencesrelatingtoracismandhomophobiaandincludessomeoffensivelanguagethatmaybetriggeringforreaders.Ifthesetopicsaresensitiveforyou,pleasereadwithcare.ONE
Technicallyastorystartswhereveryouwantittostart.
Whenyoustartwritingitdown,thatcouldbethestartofthestory.Ormaybethestorystartedbeforeyoustartedwritingitdown,butthenthestorywassogoodyouthought…
Thisisreallygood;Ishouldwritethisdown.
It’spossibletheanswertowhereandwhenastorystartshassomethingtodowiththespace-timecontinuum,andifitdoes,Iwouldnotbethepersontotalkaboutthat.Iamnotaspace-timecontinuumkindofperson.I’mmoreofanarts-and-craftskindofperson,whichcanbejustasseriousasspace-time,especiallyifyouspillpurpleglitter(oranyothercolorofglitter)onthecarpet.
Prettyserious.
Idon’trecommendyoudothisbecausethenglitterwillbeinthatspacebetweenthefibersofyourcarpetforthetimeperiodofforever
Ofcourse,sometimesyou’reworkingonaparticularlycoolobjetd’artinyourlivingroombecauseyoujustmovedintoanewhouseandyourcraftareahasn’tbeensetupyetandthesethingscan’tbehelped.
Andnowwe’reintothestory.
It’salreadystarted!
Ifwe’rebeingpickyaboutit,allthisalreadyhappenedandI’mgoingbackintimetotellyouthestoryofhowIbecameAnneofGreenville(formerlyAnneofaFewCitiesOtherThanGreenville).It’salsothestoryofhowIfoundmytruetrue,andhowIneededtomaybecometoGreenville,ofallplaces,tomakethathappen.
SpeakingofGreenville,Ishouldprobablysetthescenealittle.Becauseifyoudon’tknowGreenville,andarguably,ifyoudon’tlivehere,you’veprobablyneverheardofGreenville(Ihadn’t),youmightneedalittlewikiinfotogetyoustarted.
GreenvilleisaverysmalltowninastatethatisaboutsixstatestotheeastofanystateIhaveeverlivedin.It’swhatMillie,mymom,whowasborninasmalltowncalledPepperdown,NorthCarolina(socute,right?),callsTheUltimateSmallTown.Greenville’stotalpop.whenwearrivedwas5,004(5,007oncemyfamilymovedin—sothatsignwillneedtobechanged).
MyfirstimpressionofGreenvillewasthatitwasvery,veryhardtoseeanything,becauseitwasnight.AndnightinGreenvilleis,like,reallyreallydark.IarrivedwithmytwomomsinaU-Haulfullofmostlybooksandcookingsupplies,aswellasourgingercat,Bjorn,andourgoldenretriever,Monty.Greenvilledarkisnotlikecitydark,whereeverystreetislitupbyastreetlight,asifyouhadahouseandeveryroomhadalampon.Greenvillefeltlikeahousewithnolampon.Admittedly,whenIfirstlookedoutthemoving-vanwindowatournewtown,awakenedfromanin-vannapbya“we’realmostthere,”myheartkindofsank.IfeltlikeIwaslookingoutintothevoid,anditwaslookingbackatme.Andnotinapleasantway.
Aswepulledintoourdriveway,Montylookedoutthewindowandwhined.Iopenedthevandoorandtheonlythinginthewindwasthesoftrustleofleavesandcrickets.
That’sit.
“Hearthatquiet?”Milliesaid,stretchingherarmsfromthedrive.“That’scountryquiet.”
“Thisisn’tthecountry,”Lucy,myothermom,corrected,diggingournewhousekeyoutofherpurse.
“Oh,it’scountryallright.”Milliegrinned,stridingtothefrontdoor.“Justyouwait.”
AfewmorethingsaboutGreenvilleInoticedonceIactuallysawitinthedaylight:
Greenvilleisthekindofplacewhereeveryonekeepsawreathontheirdoor.Evenifitisn’tawinterholiday.Mostofthesewreathsaredecoratedwithplasticflowers.
Greenvilleisthekindofplacewhereeveryonehastwocarsbecauseeverythingissofarapartyouhavetodriveeverywhere(unlessyouroller-skate,whichIthinkispreferable).
MostofGreenvilledoesn’thavesidewalks,maybebecauseeveryonedrives(see#2).
AllthetreesinGreenvillearepuffyandgreen,likesomeonedrewthemwithacrayon.
Greenvilleisaplacethatfeelsbothveryverybigandveryverysmall.Likemaybebecausethere’snotallbuildings,there’ssomuchmoreroomforthegroundandtheskytostretchout,whichfeelsbig.Butalsothere’ssolittletolookatbesidesthegreengroundandthebluesky,itfeels…small.
MostlyIcouldn’tdecideifanyofthethingsInoticedaboutGreenvilleweregoodorbad.MaybebecauseIcouldn’tdecidewhattheymeant.Andwhereinthemwouldfitthepuzzlethatwasme.Orviceversa.
Itriednottothinkaboutitthosefirstfewdays.Iunpacked(sortof),lostBjorn(threetimes),foundBjorn(threetimes),andmadepapier-machédiscoglobes(becauseIhadallthematerials).
Andthen,onthedayofthebeginningofmystory,which,yes,we’renowgettingto,itwassunny,Ihadtostartthinkingaboutit.
Greenvilleandme.
ItwasAugust,so,itwashot.Notlikeyour-sequins-are-going-to-melt-off-youhot(whichistoohot).Buthot
Iloadedmynewly(sortof)drydiscoglobesintothebackofMillie’scarbecauseshewasgoingtodropmeoffinthetowncenterwhileshewentofftodohousestufflikegobuyforksbecausewestillcouldn’tfindanyforks,whichwasweirdbecausewecouldfindspoonsandwedefinitelypackedforks!(What,weretheforksandspoonsfightingorsomething?Didthespoonswin?)Duringthedrive,Millieeyeballedmydiscoballs.“Thosearen’tgoingtogetglitterallovermycar,arethey?”
“Probably,yes.”
I’dlivedinsmallcitiesbeforeGreenville,justFYI,butmostofthemhadatleastthreegrocerystoresandacorporateretailchainortwo.Greenvillehad:Agrocerystore,Adrugstore,andApostoffice,plusAnicecreamparlor,Aplacetogetwings,andAplacetobuyrunningshoes.OH.AndApizzaplace.
ItwasSaturdayandprettymucheveryoneseemedtobeoutandabout;everywhereyoucouldseethecitizensofGreenvillewalkingaroundwithicecreamconesandshoppingbagsingroupsofthreeorfour,inwhatIwouldcallGreenville’sTimesSquare,theintersectionofthestreetsofMain,Center,andDivision.OnethingIwillsay,asfarastownsquareswent,Greenville’swasatleastveryclean.Nogarbageanywhere.Everyoneseemedtohavetheirnaturalhaircolor,andeveryoneexceptmewaswearingsandalsandniceshirts.Andshorts/pantsobviously.
Imaginemovingtoatownwherenoonewearspants.
Afterassessingwhatspacewasavailable,Ipickedaspotbyabigbrassstatueofanoldwhitemanandstartedhangingupmyglobesonthesignposts,atwhichpointanoldguywithwhitehairunderawhitebaseballcapstartedsurveillingmewithwhatIhopedwasamixofcuriosityandanticipation.
Itapedmylastpapier-machédiscoballtothelastpostandplacedmyspeakerattheedgeofwhatIdeterminedtobemy“performancespace.”Istrappedonmyfavoritepairofrollerskates,whichareorangeleatherwithgreensparklywheelsandyellowlaces,whichnotcoincidentallymatchedtheorangeandgreenofmyamazingpolyestersequinedjumpsuitwithextra-widebell-bottomcuffs(custom,obv).Puttingonmyskatesisveryoften,ifnotthebestpartofmyday,like,prettyhighupthereonthelist.Ipersonally,notthatanyonehasasked,thinkeveryoneshouldownapairofrollerskates.It’slikeputtingwingsonyourfeet,likethatgodHermes,butwithwaylessfamilybaggage.
Itookabreath.
“Herewego,”Iwhisperedtomyself.
Ipressedplayandsetthewheelsinmotion(literally)formyintroductiontoGreenville,bywayofahastilyassembledrollerdiscoperformancetothebestsongintheworld:“Funkytown.”
Extendedmix.
“Funkytown,”byLippsInc,isatrackfromtheirdebutalbum,MouthtoMouth.Itwaswrittenbymusician,composer,andrecordproducerStevenGreenbergandsungbyCynthiaJohnson,wholaterbecameamemberofthegospelgroupSoundsofBlackness.I’llsaythealbum,onthewhole,isnotafull-oncollectionofhits.“AllNightDancing”isalittleslow,andyou’veprobablyneverheardof“RockIt”and“Power.”But“Funkytown,”thehitsingle,hassurvivedmanydecadesasanamazingandrelevantdancetrackforareason:Itissosososogood.“Funkytown”isasongIoftenuseasthebaseorfirstactofmyvariousperformances.
MymomssayIhaveatendencytoget“lost”inthings:MilliesaysIamadaydreamer,LucywillsayIamsometimeseasilydistracted.BotharedefinitelytruewhenIammakingartorperforming.Idon’tknowwhatapersonissupposedtobethinkingwhenthey’remakingart,ordancing,orsinging.Imeanit’snotlikemybrainstopsworkingwhenI’mdoinganyofthesethings.Butitdefinitelyworksdifferent.LikewhenI’mjustnormalme,Icanseethethingsthatareinfrontofme,likeatree,orafountain,oralamp.WhenI’mmakingart,it’slikeeverythinggets…intense?Orlike,lighterbutdeeper?
Like,Icanseethethings,butIcanalsoseeallthesethingsthatcouldbe.Likeallthesymbolismjumpsout,andthefountainissuddenly“flow”and“rejuvenation”andallthatjunk.AndIcanseemeinthosethings,intheseevolvingworlds,Iguess?Andinthoseevolvingworlds,anythingispossible.
Anythingispossiblefeelslikeafreshsliceoflemoninyourbrain.
Icouldfeelthesmilespreadingoutovermylipsasmyskatesglidedoverthepavement.
“Boopboopboopboopboopboopboopboopboopboop.”
Asmywheelsrolledovertheconcrete,everythingwentrainbowgooey.Thesequinsonmyoutfitflashedinthesunandsentlittleprismrainbowsaroundthesquare,whichwaswhatI’dhopedwouldhappen.Abouttwominutesintothesong,afteraseriesofslowswoopsaroundthefountain,justtoletpeopleknowwhatIwasabout,Ididabackwalkoverintoaspinanddownintothesplits.
Thatkindofmoveiswhatiscalleda“crowdpleaser”inthatwaymostcircus/gymnastics–typestuffiscrowdpleasing(orCirqueduSoleilwouldn’texist).ThismoveisnormallywhereIpause,ifonlyforamoment,andtakeinwhatLucycalls“thetemperatureoftheroom.”
Orthesquareinthiscase.
Ilookedupfrommysplits,mypalmspressedontothebakingpavementofthesquare,totheequallyheatedglaresoftheresidentsofGreenville,somewithicecreams,somewithout.
Notthebestreception.
Whichwasnotentirelyunpredictable.TWO
Okay.FormostofthetimeIhaveknownmyself,Ihavealwaysbeenapersonwhois…different.
MostlywhenotherpeopletalkaboutmebeingdifferenttheywanttotalkaboutthefactthatIhavetwomoms,whichisnotsuperdifferentdependingonwhereyouare,butit’salittledifferentthanalotofthekidsI’vegonetoschoolwith.
I’madopted;bothmymomsarewhiteandI’mhalf-Japanese.IamthebiologicalchildofmymomMillie’scousinSusanandwasadoptedafterSusanandmybiodad,Dean,diedinacaraccident.Iwasthreewhenthishappened,soImostlyonlyhavevagueglowymemoriesofmybiologicalparents.IknowmygrandmaHanalookslikeanoldfemaleversionofDean.(Ihaveasumtotaloffourgrandmothers,twomoms,onegrandfather,andonestep-grandfatherasaresultofthisfamilysetup,whichiseitheralotorenoughdependingonwhatIneedatanygiventime).
Really,Ithinkthethingthatsetsmeapartfrommymoms,likeifyoulookatusfromadistance,isthefactthatwhenIwasten,Istarteddyingmyhairorangebecauseit’smyfavoritecolorandmyparentssaidsolongasIdidn’tgetitalloverthebathtubitwasokay.
(Itotallygetitinthebathtub,though.)
Once,whenIwastwelve,anoldladystoppedmeintheelevatorandtoldmeIshouldn’tdyeit.TowhichIreplied,“MaybeYOUshouldmindyourownbusiness.”Lucysaidthiswouldhavebeenanacceptableresponsetothelady’sveryrudecommentifIhadn’tyelleditsuperloudintoherface.
Nooneinmyhouseholdisokaywithyelling.Whichmeansyoucanprettymuchsaywhateveryouwantifyousayitinaneventone.Nothingyousayinanythingresemblingashoutisgoingtobeokay.
Ahem.
Ofcourse,youcouldalsosaythateveryone’supbringingandhairisuniqueandnotreallyworthcallingoutas“different.”Bothofmymomshatethewordnormal,likeasinwhatisa“normal”family?Likewhodefinesthat,right?Thepatriarchy?Probably.
Unfortunately,acompletediscussionoftheoriginsoftheso-callednormalandwhynormalisaconstructwouldgetuswayoffcoursestorywise,solet’ssaythepreviouslymentionedthingsarepartofwhoIamandthingsthathavebeencalledoutasbeingdifferent.Butreallytherearejustsomanyothermoreinterestingwaysapersoncanbe…unusual.
AndIamallofthem.Ithink.
Like,I’mprettysureIdon’tthinklikeotherpeople.AsidefromthethingsIseewhenI’mmakingart,IbetIspendwaymoretimethanmostpeoplethinkingaboutthingsthatcouldexistversusallthethingsthatdoexist.LikeonceIspentaweekdreamingaboutallthedifferentwaysanelephantcouldlook.Likewhatiftheirearsweresofterandcoveredinfurandstuckupintheair?
WhenIwassix,IhadanimaginaryfriendnamedDanny,apurpleunicornwhowasalsoalawyerandamodel.AndIwouldspendallthistimetalkingtoDannyaboutfashionandmydreams,andmymomswouldhavetoremindmethathewasimaginarysoIwouldcalmdownaboutgettinghimtohisauditionsandcourtappearancesontime.
“IfDanny’snotthere,whoelseisgoingtostandupforthelittlecreaturesofthemagicforest?”Iwailed,onaparticularlyvexingday.“WhowillgracethecoverofUnicornFair?”
“Oh,sweetie,”Lucycooed,“whydoyouinsistonusingyourimaginationtoworryyourselfintomoreproblems?”
IhadafriendoncewhowasobsessedwithknowingwhichofmymomsIwas“actuallyrelatedto.”Whichtomewasandisjustabsurd(andIwouldnevertellher,whichiswhywestoppedbeingfriends).Like,honestly,whocares?One,we’reafamily;two,theybothhavetolookafterme—it’snotlikebiologychangesthat;andthree,Iamsoclearlytheresultofbothoftheirinfluencesandobsessions.LikehowLucylikestolearnasmanynewthingsaspossible.Forexample,thewholereasonIlearnedhowtoroller-skatewasbecauseshesawamovieaboutroller-skatingandthenshewantedtolearnhowandteachmehow.
Thegiftthatkeepsongiving.
AndMillieistheartistwholikestotrytolookatthingsfromasmanydifferentanglesaspossible.Likehowshetakespicturesofpeoplefromacameramountedovertheirheadsorattheirfeet,whichistheseriesshestartedworkingonbeforewemovedtoGreenville.
Asmoms,sometimesIthinkLucyhasmorepatienceformystuffbecauseshe’sateacher.ButIthinkMilliegetsmemorebecauseshe’sanartist.Like,IthinkMilliegetswhyIneedtomakeathingbecauseit’sinmyheadandIwanttoseeitintheworld.Evenifthetripfrommyheadtotheworldcanbe…rocky.
(Sidenote:MillieandLucyarebothkindofathleticandwearwhatIwoulddescribeassensibleshoes.IcanalmostimmediatelytellwhethersomeoneelseisqueerbywhethertheythinkMillieandLucyaresistersorpartners.Likesisters?Areyouforreal?Lookattheirmatchingsensibleshoulderbags!)
Actuallyoneofmyfirstperformanceswasatributetomothers,createdforLucy’sgrandmother’sninetiethbirthdaywhenIwasseven.(Originallyitwassupposedtobeaninety-minuteperformance,butIwastoldIhadsixminutes,max—atimeallowanceIknowLucyfoughtfor.)
Itwasadance,notto“Funkytown,”butasongGrandmaShirleyliked,“SingSingSing(withaSwing)”originallywrittenbyLouisPrimaandcoveredbyBennyGoodman.ImadetapshoesanddecoratedmyleotardsoIwouldlooklikewhatinmymindwasanold-timeydancer.
Halfwaythroughthedance,Lucy’scousinHerbertranupandpulledmeoffthestagebecausehesaidIwasupthere“shakingmyhipsinmyunderwear”anditwasdisgusting.
Thefirstabruptendtooneofmyperformances.
Butnotthelast.
Noteveryonegetsit.Oralmostnoonegetsit.
Iknowthat.
Andsometimes,thenotgettingitcanbelouderthandisco.
Oh.Also,IgooffonwhatMilliecalls“epictangents.”Whichare(almost)alwaysrelevant.Andeventuallyconnectbacktothestory.THREE
See?
Okay,sothereIwas.InGreenville.Thelaststrainsof“Funkytown”fadingintothesunnyday.Eithermyaudiencewasnotlovingwhatwashappeningortheywerethequietestaudienceinthehistoryofaudiences.Orboth.
Iwasgettingupfrommyepicsplits,brushingthebitsofgraveloffmypalms,thinking.
Ihadtwochoices:One,keepgoing.Like,theshowmustgoon(atheatersayingthatpeopleusedtosaywaybackinthe1900sandalsoasongbytheepicbandQueen).Two,actlikethethree-partdiscorollerperformancewasactuallyaonepart,takemybow,androlloffintothesunset.
Ifyou’recaughtup,it’snotgoingtosurpriseyoutohearthatItookoptionone.
Heckyeah,Idid!GloriaGaynor’s“IWillSurvive”cameon(recordedin1978andoriginallyreleasedasaB-sideifyoucanbelieveit).That’slikethemostpowerfulgaysong(notsungbyagayperson)intheworld!
Iblewakisstothecrowd,didajumpturn,pumpedtwice,andflewintoasitspin.Icameoutofthat,wavedtothecrowd,andwentrightbackintoaseriesofhurricanekicksthatIthentransitionedintoaheeltoespin,becauseIlovespinning;theworldflewintoastreamoflightanddarkwhensuddenly…
Themusiccutout.
Sofastitwaslikesomeonepulledtherugoutfromunderme,like,literally.BeforeIcouldcatchmyself,myleftskateskiddedoutfrombeneathme,thenmyright,andIlandedhardonmybutt.
Thebutt,thesoftestbuthardestlandingofthemall.
Idon’tknowifyou’veeverlandedonyourbuttonrollerskates.Itisdiscombobulating.First,Iwasdizzy,withthisweirdwhooshingsoundthattookoverallthespaceinsidemybrain,thenthewhooshingwasreplacedbyanothersound…laughter.
Nothappyfunlaughter,thelaughterofjoyandjoining,thelaughterofbeachballsandlollipops.No.Unhappylaughter,whichonlycomesatsomeoneelse’sexpense.Asmybuttthrobbed,Ilookedupandspottedthesourceofthechortles.
Itwasagroupofkids,butIsawtheboyfirst,tallwithspikybrownhair.Hewaswearingagreensoccerjerseyandshorts.Agirlwithbright,butIthinknatural,redhairtiedintopigtails,dressedentirelyinbabypink,wasbalancedonhisshoulders.
Iblinked.
Theywererippingmydiscoballsoffthelampposts!
“HEY!”Iscrambledtomyfeet,ortriedto,butitishardtoscrambletoyourfeetinrollerskates,whichistheonlyuncoolthingaboutthem.
Awaveofheatroseupthroughmyjumpsuitandturnedmyneckintoaringoffire.“HEY!”
Theboywithspikybrownhairgrinnedabigtoothygrin,asthegirlonhisshoulderswrenchedthediscoballfreeandhelditoverherhead,triumphant.
“HEY!”shescreechedback,wavingtheballlikeabrokenflag,“YOUGOTAPERMITFORTHISTRASH?”
“HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!”Theboy’sfacewasturningred.
Butthelaughterwasn’tjustcomingfromhim.
IswiveledasbestIcouldandspottedtheotherpair,atanotherlamppostclosertothefountain.Thispairhadoneshorterboywithcurlyhair,alsoinasoccerjersey,whowasalmosteclipsedbythegirlonhisshoulders,whowaslonglikespaghettiwithequallylongblondhair.Shehadrippedtwoofmydiscoballsfreeandwasholdingtheminherhandslikedeflatedcheerleaderpom-poms.
“CUTITOUT!”Ifinallygottomyfeet.“THOSEAREMINE!”
“HO-HO!”thecurly-hairedboylaughedashebentforwardandthegirlvaultedoff.
AsI(finally)gotmyskatesunderme,allfourkidswereofflikeashot.Laughingandwavingmydiscoballsintheairastheyran.
“STOP!”Iscreamed,catchingtheeyeofthegirlwithlongblondhair.
Shesloweddown,justalittle,liketherewassuddenlysomethinginmyvoiceworthpayingattentionto.Maybebecausemyvoicehadreachedthepitchofafireengine.
“THOSE!ARE!MINE!”Ihowled.
Thegirl’seyeswentwide.Sheglanceddownatthenowunrecognizablelumpsofdiscoartinherhands.
“TOSSIT!”theboywithspikyhairholleredback.“GILLY!TOSSTHEM!”
Theredheadedgirlwiththepigtailscuppedherhandsoverhermouth.“COMEON,GILLY!”
Thetallblondlookedatmeagainwithwateryblueeyes,andthensheheavedmydiscoballsintothefountainandsprintedoff.
“YOUASSHOLES!”Ihollered.
Andthensuddenlyeveryoneinthesquarestoppedandlookedatme.PossiblybecauseIscreamedassholes.MyfacehaditsownpulseasIslunkdown,slammingmybuttonthefountain’sedge,producingaflashofpainthatrippedthroughmylowerhalfasIunstrungmylaces.
“Hey.”
ThisisthemomentwhenIfirstmetBerry.Orrightbefore.
“WHAT?”Iroared.
Likeyeah,Ikindofinstantlyreactedwithyelling,becauseIwastryingnottobreakmylacewithmyragefingersandlisteningtothegurglingofthefountain.
ButthenIlookedup.
ThefirstthingInoticed,whichcalmedmeinawaythatIcannotexplain,wasthatthepersonwhowasstandinginfrontofme,whowasprobablymyage,hadhairthatwasalldifferentcolorsofgreen.Likemossandfluorescentandforestandpinegreen.TheyhadmorehairthanmostpeopleIhadevermet.Itwascurly,likespiral-curlscurly,itsmassonlybarelytamedbyawhiteheadbandthatmatchedtheirwhitecoveralls.
Theywereholdingaskateboardinonehand,lookingdownattheirpaint-splatteredworkboots;theircheekswereblushinghard,maybebecauseIhadjustyelledatthem.Alsobecausetheyweresuperpale,andpalepeople,inmyexperience,blushlikenobodyelse.Ithinkit’scool,butIgetthatsomeofthepaledonotthinkit’scool.
Idroppedmyskate.“UGH.Sorry.”Ilookedbackintothefountain.“Ijust—Itjust—Ithoughtyouwere—Sorry.”
“Isawwhathappened.”ThepersonIdidn’tknowyetasBerrylookedupwithhazeleyes.“I’msorry.But,uh,Ididmanagetosavethisone.”
Intheirhandwastheonlydiscoballthathadn’tbeenshreddedordestroyed,myoneglitteringpaperchildthathadsurvivedGreenville’sapparentdiscohatred.Theyplacedtheballinmyhandslikeafragileegg.“Sorryabout,youknow,them.”
“RIGHT?WhatwasTHAT?!Whodoesthat?”Ifumed,suddenlyre-enraged.Igesturedatthewaterfountain.“Dotheyevenknowwhatglitterdoestoawaterfountain?”
“Theyprobablydon’tcare.”
“Well,THATsucks,”Iseethed,carefullyplacingmylastdiscoballnexttomyskatesandrollingupmypantlegs.
Asthecrowdwatched,Islippedonelegatatimeintothefountaintodigoutthepulpymessesofmyotherballs.“Itcould,like,seriouslyscrewwiththewatersystems,hello,”Igroused,rakingmyfingersthroughthedisturbinglywarmwater.“Whowerethey,anyway?”
“Thebigone’sTanner.”ThepersonIstilldidn’tknowwasBerryreachedintothefountaintopulloutascrapofpurplepaper.“TheotherboyisJohn.ThegirlsareSarahandGilly.”
“Well,they’reALLJERKS,”Ifumed,myhandsfullofdiscopulp.
“Like,prettymuchalways.Anyway.Ithinkyougotallthestuffoutofhere.Sothat’sgood.”
Itdidn’tfeelespeciallygood,whichwasalsoprobablybecauseeveryonewasstaringatmelikeIwasstealingwishesfromthebottomofthefountainorsomething.
Insteadofsavingthem!Hello!
Iheavedmyrolled-upbutstillmagicallysoakedtothecorepantlegsoutofthefountain.DidGreenvilleevenhaveadrycleanerwhocouldhandlesequins?
“Ithoughtitwascool,”thepersonwhowouldsoonbecomemyoneGreenvillefriendsaid.“Yourthing.Withthetricksandstuff?GloriaGaynor.Greattrack.”
Ashardoflightpiercedmydarkmood.Iraisedaneyebrow.“YouknowGloriaGaynor?”
NotjustGloriaGaynormusicbuthername.Hugepoints.
ItwasjustniceforamomentoffeelinglikeIwasn’ttheonlyonetalkingdiscothatday.
“Sure.”Theygrinned,showingagiantgapbetweentwofrontteeth.Also,Inoticed,thispersonhadmorefrecklesthanIhadeverseenononeface.Maybeitcamewiththehair.“Mydadiskindofavinylfiend.”
“Well.”Iheldupmyonesurvivingdiscoball,mywetfingersstickingtothepaperandglue.“Thanks.Forgrabbingthis.”
“Anytime.”ThepersonIstillhadn’tintroducedmyselfto,whohadn’treallyintroducedthemselvestome,hencestillperson,shrugged.“WelcometoGreenville,Iguess?”
“Thanks.”
“Noproblem.”Withasortofawkwardsalute,theyspunartfully,floppedtheirskateboardontheground,andwithalightstep,rolledaway,thegravelcrunchingundertheirwheels.“SeeyouatschoolonMonday!”
“Oh!”Isaid,becauseIhadactuallyforgottenaboutschool,becausethat’showmymindworks.“Yeah.”
Andyes,it’strue,IhadthatwholeexchangewithmyfirstnicepersoninGreenville,andIhadn’tevenmanagedtogetaname,orsaymine.
Ifrowned,shovingmyfeetinmyrunningshoesandtyingupmyskates.
“ANNE!”Milliestrodetowardme,luggingabigbagofwhatlookedlikeChristmaslights.“Gimmeahand?”
“Sure,”IsaidasIshookasmuchwateroutofmypantlegasIcould.
Millielookedatmyhands.“Whathappenedtoyourother…globes?”
“Theyare,were,discoballsand…theywerethecasualtyoftheday.”
“Oh.”Millielookedaround,catchingsomeofthelocalswithicecreamswhowereclearlystrainingtohearourconversation.“So.Howwastheperformance?”
“Mixedreviews.”Itookthebagfromherhand.
“Right.”Millie,whohasalsoreceivedherfairshareofmixedreviewsovertheyears,includingamanwhocalledherapestilenceonthephotographycommunity,nodded,waitedformetosaymore,andwhenIdidn’t,startedwalkingtowardthecar.
Forthedrivehome,Milliemostlyletmepercolate,whichiswhatshecallsathinkingsilence.
Aproductivesilence.
Idon’tknowifitwasallthatproductive.MostlyIwaslettingtherollinggreenslidebythewindowandthinkingaboutwhatitwouldbeliketohaveanaudienceappreciateyourthree-actdiscoopera.
“Someofthebestreviewsaremixed,”Milliesaidfinallyasweclosedinonourstreet.“Likemixednuts.Right?”
“IfyoulikeBrazilnuts.”
“Wait.Youdon’tlikeBrazilnuts?HaveIraisedyouright?”Milliegavemeanexaggeratedlookofhorror.
“Brazilnutsaredisgusting,”Isaid,“andyes,youdid.”
Milliesnuckaquickglanceinmydirection.“Doyouknowwhatyoucandotomakeitbetternexttime?Yourperformance?”
“No,”Isaid.“Maybe.”
“Well,workonthat,”Milliesaid,spinningthewheelasweroundedthecorner.“Anddon’tforgettowishLucygoodluck,”sheaddedaswepulledintothedriveway.“It’sherbigdaytomorrow.”
MilliecallsLucythetravelingeducator,becauseLucyhastaughtprettymucheverythingyoucanimagineapersonteachinginprettymucheverywhereapersoncouldteachintheUnitedStates.Alotofusmovingaroundhasbeenmymomtryingtogetdifferentexperiencesteachingindifferentplacesfordifferentschools.Shewasasubstituteteacherforyears.Thensheworkedforthiscompanythattrainsteachersinwhatmymomcalls“communityskills.”ThenshetaughtEnglishandgeographyinPetaluma,California.Thensheappliedtobeaviceprincipal.
Andnowwe’rehere.Greenville,whereLucywillbethenewviceprincipalatGreenvilleHigh.
Inalmosteverymoviewhereacharacterisaviceprincipal,thatpersonistheleastcoolpersoninthemovie.Theviceprincipalisusuallythepersonwhohatestheirjobandtakesitoutonothers.
Lucyistheoppositeofthat,bytheway.Andyet,beingaviceprincipalisLucy’sdreamjob.Lucyreallyreallylikesteachingandteachersandschool.Shewantstobeaviceprincipalsoshecanhelppeoplehaveabettertimeattheirschool.Like,ifLucywasincharge,andshesometimesis,allourvacationswouldbelearningexperiences.
SothiswholeGreenvillethingwasareallybigdeal.
WhichiswhythenightbeforethefirstdayofschoolLucywasholedupinheroffice.Ibroughtheraplateofleftoverfriedriceandtofulumps.Inside,theroomthatwasgoingtobeherofficewasatrafficjamofboxes.Surroundedbystacksofpaper,Lucyhadthreeelasticsinherhair—Ithinkbecauseshekeptforgettingshe’dputherhairupalready.Whenshe’snotworking,Lucywearsschoolsweatshirtsfromtheschoolsthatshe’staughtin.Shehasalotofsweatshirtswithbadlydrawnschoolmascotsonthem.Theoneshewaswearingthatnightwassupposedtobeahawk,butitlookedlikeanangryowl.IthinkitwasfromaschoolinOhio.
“Oh,”Lucysaid.Sheglancedupfromapile,lookingalittleowlyherself.“Hey!Howwasyourshow?”
Lucycallsthemshows
“Myperformance…wasfine,”Isaid,movingastackofpaperstoputtheplateon.
“OH!”Lucylurchedforward,reachingforthepapersIwasholding.“Thoseare—Sorry,sweetie.Ineedthose.Givethemhere.Thanks.”
Ihandedherthestack.“Sorry.”
“Justtryingtogeteverythingtogether.”LucysurveyedthemanyotherstacksthatIimaginedalsocouldn’tbemoved.“Somuchpaperwork!Ijust—”Sheshovedafewpilesoverandpointedatapileofbooks.“Justputtheplatehereisfine,sweetie.Thankyou.”
IrestedtheplateofreheatedfoodIwasprettysureshewasgoingtoforgettoeatonafolderofeducationalstandardssheprobablywasgoingtoread,andleanedagainstthedoorway.“So,areyouready?Doyouhaveyouroutfit?Forschool?”
“Oh.”Lucypulledahairelasticoffherwrist.“Ohyes,that’sright.Ha-ha.Clothes.YesI’llfindsomething.Doyou?Haveyouroutfit?”
“Obviously,”Isaid.“Ihaveafewoptions.I’llreviewthemtonight.Consideralltheangles.Debatepossiblebodymodifications.Piercings.Youknow?Topullthewholethingtogether.”
“Goodgood.”Lucy’seyesdartedbacktoherlaptop,whichwaspinginglikeanalarmclock.“That’sgreat.”
Shewasn’tlistening,ofcourse.Lucyisveryanti-piercingforreasonsIdon’tcompletelyunderstand.
“You’llbegreat.”Isighed.“Tomorrow,Imean.Andthisyear,you’llbegreatatthis.”
LikeIsaid,Lucyisthepersonwhohasgivenmeprettymucheverythingthatmeansanythinginmylife,includingdisco(alsoherfave)androllerskating.IonceaskedLucytoshowmehowtosew,andshelearnedsoshecouldteachme.Iwasn’tgoingtogivehersomethingelsetoworryabout.Likethefactthatmyfirstmeet-and-greetwithGreenvillehadgone…poorly.Imentallyslippeditunderthetallstackofthingswecouldtalkaboutlater.
“’Night!”
“’Night,Anne!Oh!CanyoutakeMontyforherwalk?”
Easiersaidthandone.ApparentlyMontywasn’tallthatfondofthesoundofthe“country,”includingthecrickets.(Whatdidshethinktheywere?Iwondered).AssoonasIopenedthedoorandthefirstcricketcricketedsheplasteredherselftothegroundandstartedwhining.
“Okay,sowalkingisout?”
AlowsquealescapedfromMonty’ssnout.
“Fine.”
IwrappedmyarmsaroundhermiddleandpulledournowangrygoldenarearugoutthedoorsoIcouldwalkherontothefrontporch,whereshepinnedherselfagainstmyside.
“Thisisexposuretherapy,Monty,”Isaid,lookingaround,notingthatshewasn’tgoingtothebathroom,whichcouldn’tbeagoodthing.
Iputmyhandonherhead,andshepinnedherbigbrowneyesonme.
Idonotwanttobehere,thoseeyessaid.
“Ihearyou,”Isaid.“Imean,obviouslywecan’tdoanythingaboutbeinginGreenville,butit’snicejustforamomenttonothavetopretendtobehappyaboutit.”
InwhatItookasagreement,Montyshovedherwetnoseundermythigh,whichprobablysmelledlikeGreenvillefountainwater,theperfumeofcopperanddisapproval.
“Atleasttomorrow’sanotherday,”Ioffered.
Imean,comeon,Ihadn’tevengottentoschoolyet.FOUR
It’spossibletomakeadaygood,oratleastbetter,bystartingitoffwithasmalldancepartyinwhichyougetdressedinsomeofyourfavoriteclothingitems.
Orthat’smytheory.
That’swhyIchosetoprepareformyfirstdayatGreenvilleHighwith“LeFreak”bythebandChic(fromthealbumC’estChic,released1978)blastingwhileIdugthroughabunchofboxesIwassupposedtounpackbutdidn’t,becauseIwasmakingthepiecesofmy,let’ssay“failed”or“ill-received,”discomoment.
Allmyclothingisvintage,ormostofit,partlybecausemymomsdon’tlikebuyinganythingnewthatwecanbuyused.FormostofmylifeI’vemadekindofagameoffindingclothingthat’stheperfectmatchformyaesthetic.It’slikesearchingoutmagicgemstones,onlythosegemstonesoftensmelllikemothballs.Andneedtobehemmed.
Formyfirstdayofschool,Irummagedforoneofmyfavoritefinds,apairoflegitseventiessuedeshortsinorange,yellow,andblue,pairingitwithpeachsparklyleggings,andalavender-and-neon-orangesweatshirtwithmassivebellsleevesIthinksomeonemadeandthenhidinaValueBuysinArizonajustformetofind.ThetagonthesweatshirtsaysDAZZLINGDUDS,whichislikeasecretpieceofawesomejustformeorwhoeverisdoingthelaundry.
What’sthebestkindofdud?Adazzlingdud!
Ofcoursenowyou’reasking,whatkindofshoesgowiththatensemble?Theansweris,obviously,neon-greenkicksthatsomeonewasgenerousenoughtoaddathree-inchplatformtobeforetheydonatedthemtoGoodWillinginEureka,whereIfoundthem.
Reallywhatyouwantasthefinaletothatsortofdressingroutineisaslidedownabanister,butournewhousedidn’thaveone,soIsettledfordancingdownthestairsliketheBeatlesintheir“YourMotherShouldKnow”fromtheMagicalMysteryTourmovie.(Youcanviewthissequenceonlinewithouthavingtoseethewhole,notgreatmovie.It’snotdisco,butit’sverycool.)
Milliewasinthekitchen,whichwasmomentousbecauseMillieisanartistwhooncetoldmethatthewholepointofbeinganartistisyoudon’thavetowakeupearlyinthemorning.
Butitwasthefirstdayofschool,soMilliewastherewithapotoffreshcoffeeandafewinspiringwordsofencouragement.
“Finally!I’mgettingyouguysoutofmyhair.”Shesighedwithexaggeratedcontentment.
ButLucydidn’tcatchsaidexaggeratedcontentment,asshewasclearlyverynervous.
“Whattimeisit?”sheasked,searchingthecounterforthephonethatwasrightinfrontofher.
“You’vegotlotsoftime,”Milliesaid,fillingupatravelmugandsettingitnexttoLucy’sphone.“I’lltakethekidtoschool.Yougoonahead.”
Isearchedthefridgefortheleftoverfriedrice,whichisthebestbreakfast,especiallywhenservedwithcoffee.
“Doesthislookokay?”Lucystoodbackandpressedherhandsdownthefrontofhergreenjacketandmatchingpencilskirt.
Ithoughtshelookedalittlemilitary-ish,butIwasclearlyinnopositiontocriticize,asIwaswearingwhatcouldeasilybeinterpretedastheuniformofapsychedeliccheerleaderfromJupiter.
Alsothere’satimeandplaceforthoughtsaboutaperson’soutfit.Ithinkthesethingsarealwaysbetternotedinretrospect.Orinternally.
PlusLucyclearlyneededaboost,soIgaveherawhomponthebackandsaid,“HEY!YOULOOKSUPERPROFESH!”
Ialso(mentally)notedshe’dsetherhairinastrangebobhelmetthatlookedprotectiveandmaybeolder?Alsoshewaswearingeyeliner,whichshenormallydidn’t.
“Youlookvery…incharge,”Milliesaid,droppinganappleintoLucy’slunchbag.“You’regoingtoknockthemdead.”
“PrincipalLyndealreadyleftsixmessages,”Lucyfretted,pocketingherphone.“Shemusthaveexpectedmetobethereatthestrokeofsix.”
MillielookedatmewithasilentYikesLucydidn’tseebecauseshewasalreadysearchingforthephoneshehadjustslidintoherpocket.
“You’regoingtobeamazingatthis,”Milliesaid,takingLucy’sfaceinherhandsandgivingherapeck.“Yourphoneisinyourpocket.”
Ipausedscarfingmyricetopointatmyoutfit.“HowdoIlook?”
Milliesquinted.“AlittlelikemewhenIwasyourage,whichisdisturbing,butonlytome.”
“Doublebonus,”Icheered.
“Youlooklovely,”Lucysaid,grabbingherkeysanddoingacoolbackwardwalkoutthedoor.“Loveyou.”
“LOVEYOU!”Iscoopedthelastofthericeoutofthecontainer.“Seeyouatschool,sortof.”
“Haveagoodday,sweetie!”Lucycalledbackassheblastedoutofthehouselikeamilitaryhurricane.
AfewsecondsafterthedoorslammedshutandMontybarkedherthe-door-is-shutbark,Milliestretched.“Allright.Howdoyoufeelaboutgrabbingadoughnutchaserforyourleftovers?”
“Good,obviously.”
MilliefishedherkeysoutofherrobepocketandtookMonty’sleashoffthewallhook.“Let’sgo.”
“Inyourrobe?”Iasked,inwhatIhopedwasn’tajudgmentaltone.
“Saysthegirldressedlikeshe’shostinganaerobicmarathononMars,”Millienoted,standinginthedoorway.“Arethoseshortssuede?”
“Yeah.”Ipointedatmylegs.“Suedeandpolyesterandnyloninoneoutfit!”
Millieshrugged.“Whatyouwillsoonlearn,mydearsweetchild,isthatwhilesmall-townfolksmightnotdigyourperfectlyreasonablecacophonyoffabrics,wearingyourpajamasoutofthehouseisgoingtobetotallyacceptable.”
Andwiththat,Millieswungopenthedoor,twirlingherkeysaroundherfinger.“Comeon,MONTY!”
Bythetimewegottotheschool,fullofdoughnuts(nooneblinkedatMillie’spj’satthedoughnutplace,bytheway),theroadwasjammedwithpeopledroppingoffsomekidswhileotherkidszippedpastonboardsandbikes,andotherkidsingroupschargedthedoorandshovedoneanother.AsMillieidledandfinishedherjellydoughnut,ItookamomentofrespitetobreatheinMonty’sdoggysmellandgiveherdoggykisses.
“WishmeluckMontyo’Mine,”Iwhisperedintoherfur.
Montysnuffledandlickedaspotonmyfaceveryclosetomyeyeball.
“Right.”Liftingmyhead,pullingmyknapsackuponmyshoulder,Ishiftedintohappyvoice.“Highschool!Hooray!”
Ihoppedoutofthecar,fullofforcedvigor.
“GOODLUCK!”Milliecalledoutassheskiddedoutoftheparkinglot,Monty’sheadhangingoutthewindowlikeapartyfavor.IwatchedasMilliedroveoffwiththerestofthedoughnutsandmystomach.
Thatmorning,beforeIevengotup,Ihadthreetextsfrommyactualrealbestfriend,Danny,whoI’veknownsinceIwasten.
DannyandIsharethefollowingthingsincommon:Wearebothhalf-Japanese,wehavebothreadallthebookspeoplegiveyoutoreadwhenyouare,webothpreferbrightlycoloredhair,andwebothloveclothesotherpeopledeemtobetacky.Dannyis“aggressivelygay”andIam“deliriouslyqueer.”Wehaven’tlivedinthesamecityforlikemanymanyyears.So.Lotsoftexts.
IhadalreadymessagedDannyaboutmydiscodebacle.Hewasunsurprisedandhelpfullyenraged.
DANNY
Neverstopthrowingyourballsintheirfaces.
ANNE
Idon’tthinkthat’shelpfulbutIappreciatethesentiment
Ipausedinfrontoftheschooltotakeaphoto.
Fromtheoutside,GreenvilleHighwasaredbrickbuildingwiththegridofwindowsyouexpecttoseeinhighschools.Ineverypane,therewerelittlegreenpawprintstapedtotheglass,whichmadeitlooklikesomeone’sgreencathadwalkedoverthefrontofthebuildingandnoonehadbotheredtocleanupafterward.Clearlythemostimportantthingaboutthefrontoftheschoolwasthemassivemarqueesignthattoweredoverit.Squattingontopofthesignwasagiantgreenplastercreaturewiththebodyofatigerandtheneckofagiraffe(maybe?),withapointedspikyhead.I’mguessingthiswasprobablythecreatureresponsibleforthepawprintsinthewindows.Itsmuzzlewaspointed,likeahuntingdog,awayfromtheschool.Itseyesweremadeofwhatlookedlikeyellowlightbulbs.Weretheylitupatnight?
Fromtheground,Icouldseethelittlewhiteteeth,bared.Itlookedlikesomeoneprobablycleanedthoseteeth,andthesign,ontheregular.
Thetextonthesignread:GO,DRAGONS,GO!DON’TCOMEFORUS!
“‘Don’tcomeforus’?”
AsLucy’ssweatshirtscanattest,everyschoolhasamascot.They’reallkindofweird.
Iwonderedwhatthismascotwasstandingonwatchfor.
Imean,Ihadaguess.ButIwasn’tlettingmybrainfollowuponthosethoughts.Instead,Iforcedmyfeettowalkthetwentystepsbetweentheparkinglotandthefrontentrance.
“Okay,Anne,let’sdothis.”
Inside,GreenvilleHighsmelledlikeeveryotherhighschoolintheworld:amixoffloorpolishandsweat.Themusicofkidsyellingbouncedaggressivelyoffthewallsofgreenandgraylockersasstudentscrisscrossedthegreentileflooranddidwhatkidsdo,whichatGreenvilleHighseemedtobepunchoneanotherontheshoulderandsaystufflike“WHATUP,DICK?”
ThreepeoplesmashedpastmeasIdugintomypocketsandpulledoutthepieceofpaperI’dprintedwithmylockernumberandschedule.Asifoncue,thefinalkidslammedpastmesohardheknockedmybagontothefloor,spillingitscontentseverywhere.
SoIwasonallfourstryingtogetmystufftogetherwhenIheardafamiliarvoice.
“WelcometoGreenvilleHigh!”
IsmiledasIrecognizedthepaint-spatteredworkboots.
“Hey!”Ilookedup.
Itwasstill-unknownpersonfromthedaybefore,whowaswearingprettymuchthesamething,onlywithabrightbluesweateronovertheircoveralls.Theyheldouttheirhand,whichwasalsocoveredinfreckles(andalittlebluepaint?)andyankedmeoffthefloor.
“Niceoutfit.”
“Thanks,”Isaid,floodedwithrelief.“Ididn’taskyournameyesterday,oranythingelsereally,”Iapologized,wipingthedustandpainfrommyknees.“Sorry,itwaskindofaweird—”
“It’sBerry.”Berrysmiledandadjustedtheirponytail/pileofhair.“Imean,I’mBerry.Uh.She/her.Ifthat’salsowhatyou’reasking.”
“Oh,itwasn’tbutthatiscool?!”Isaid,dazzled.“Isit,uh,withan‘e’?Yourname?”
“YeahlikeBlueberry,orwhatever.”Berryscratchedherchin.“Ididn’taskyournamebecause…Imeanit’sAnne,right?”
Iblinked.“What?”
“Oh,uh,yeah.”Berryheldupherhands,“Sorry.Welcometosmall-townhighschoollife,wherelikeeveryoneknowseveryone.Like,ImeanNBD,butIkindofalreadyknoweverythingaboutyou.Nottofreakyouout.”
Ipointedatmychest.“Freakedout.”
“Imean.”Berryshrugged.“Justmaybecloseyourcurtainswhenyougethome.”
Myeyespoppedopen.“What?”
“Joke.”Berrysmiled.“Small-townhumor.Notveryfunny.Moremenacing,really.Ihavenoideaifyouhavecurtains.”
“Imean…”Ilookedaround,suddenlyrealizinghowawareofmeeveryoneelseseemedtobe.“Wedon’t,butnowI’mgonnaputsomeup.”
“Maybenotabadidea.”BerrypulledmetotheleftsoIwouldavoidbeingslammedtothefloorforthesecondtimeinthealloftenminutesI’dbeenatGreenvilleHigh.“So.Okay.Here’swhatIknow….”
Berryheldupahandandtickedoffthefactsaboutmyexistenceonherfingers,whichreallyweredottedinpaint.“Iknowthatyourmomsaregay.Thatoneofyourmomsisabig-timephotographerwhotakespicturesofnakedpeople.”
“Uh,”IsaidasImentallyscannedMillie’sgalleryofworks,“shetakesportraits.Sometimes.They’renotALLnaked.Notthatnudesare,like,bad.”
“Imeanaroundherethat’sporn,”Berrysaid.“Justsoyouknow.Peoplewillsayyourmommakesporn.”
“Cool.”Isighed.“I’llletherknow.”
“YoumovedherefromCalifornia;somepeoplesayLA.”Berryraisedaneyebrowasiftocheckonthisone.
Ishookmyhead.
Berrylookeddisappointedforaflash,butthenshelookedatherwatch.“Okay,andalsowehavetostartwalkingtogettohomeroom.”
“ItwasPetaluma,”Isaid,walkingnexttoBerry,“whichisnotLA.Petalumaisactuallykindofsmall,butapparentlynotGreenvillesmallbecausenoonethereknewmybiofromthemomentIarrived.”
“Well.”Berryspedupalittle.“Peoplearegoingtosayyou’refromLA.Becausethat’swhatthey’vedecidedistrue,andbasicallyCaliforniaaroundhereisjustwest.”
“Riiiiiight.”IsilentlyprayedBerrywastakingmesomewhereIneededtogo.“Whatelse?”
Berryroundedacorner.“Yourothernot-porn-makingmomisaleft-wingsocialistmilitantwhowillbeourfirstfemaleviceprincipalinfiftyyears.”
“Yikesagain,”Isaid.“Militant?Isthatall-encompassinglikewestorwhat?”
Theeyesonmesuddenlyseemedallthatmuchmorepotent.Waspstingers.Ifwaspswereinsectsthatcategorizedpeoplewithoutactuallyknowingthepersontheyweretalkingabout.
“Don’tworry,”Berrysaid,gesturingformetocatchup.“I’minyourhomeroom.AndI’m,like,maybetheonlypersoninthistownwhowasexcitedyouwerefromLA.Andthatyourmomsarecoolandgayandartists.”
“Well,good.”Imean,heckyeah,myparentsareawesome.
“WhateveryouneedtoknowaboutGreenville,I’ll,youknow,trytotellyouallthestuff,”Berryassuredmeinatonethatwasactuallyassuring.
“ThankGod.”
Berrygrinned,gapshowing.“Don’tyoumean‘thankgoddess’?”
“Isthatafeministmilitantreference,becausewedoworshipGaia,”Ijoked.“ImeannotALLthetimebutontheharvestmoon,youknow,westrip,danceincirclesaroundafire,thatwholething.”
“Imeanthat’swhatpeoplearesaying.”
“I’mkidding.”
“Yeah,okay,”Berrysaid.Whichmademethinkthatthatwaswhatpeopleweresaying.
Asifmymomsdidn’tactuallyspendtheirweekendsbingeingTVandcleaningthekitchenlikeeveryoneelse.Mymomswenttosleepatlikenine.Notexactlyafull-moonhouse.AlthoughMilliedidwalkaroundnakedsometimeswhenshefeltlikeit.
Curtains,Iremindedmyself.Mustgetcurtains.
Weroundedanothercorner(IwasNOTkeepingtrackofwhereweweregoing)andendedupinasmallclassroomwhereBerrynavigatedusthroughaseaofseatstothefarside.IneachseatsatakidinmutedearthtoneswholookedatmelikeIwasanalien.EitherbecausetwoofthefabricsIwaswearingweresparklyorbecausetheythoughtIcamefromacultofangrylesbians.
Which,thinkaboutit,mostcultsareheterosexual.Justsaying.
Thebellfinallyrang,atwhichpointourhomeroomteacher,atallwomanwithablondbobandpearls,walkedintotheclassroom,followedbyasetoffamiliarfaces:Tanner,theboywhohadbasicallybroughtmyopeningnumbertoacloseinGreenvilleSquareadayearlier,andwhatwasclearlyhiscrew.Thefourofthemtooktheirseatsatthebackoftheclass,whichlookedliketheyhadalmostbeenreservedforthem.
Thehomeroomteacherclappedherhands.“Okay,class!Takeyourseats.It’sgoodtoseeyouallback.Manyfamiliarfaces.Anditlookslikewehaveanewstudentwithus,uh,Anne?Anne,canyoustandup?”
TwentysetsofeyestrainedonmeasIslowlyrosefrommyseat.
“Hi,I’mAnne,”Isaid,wavingasIstood.“Uh.She/her.NotfromLA.”
Ihadpreparedmorecasualintroductorymaterial,includingabriefsummaryofmythreelastschools,mythreefavoritealbums,andaninspirationalquote.
Apparentlynoneofthesewereneededordesired.
Ihadjustcrackedmymouthopentotalkwhenmynewhomeroomteachermadeaclam-slamming-shutmotionwithherhand,followedbya“sitdown”motionwithherotherhand.
Isat.
“Anne.MynameisMrs.Sherman,”shesaid,withthecrispnessofasnappedcracker,“andIwillbeyourhomeroomteacher.Ifyouneedanyassistance,I’msuretherewillbenoshortageofstudentspreparedtohelptheadopteddaughterofournewschoolviceprincipal.”
Itwaslikebeingprickedbyanunexpectedthorn.WhydidshesayIwasadopted?Like,accuratebutalsokindofrude.Adopteddaughterinsteadofjust,youknow,daughter?Kid?
IcaughtBerry’sglancelikeabutterflynet,hereyeswidewith“Yes,Anne,thisisgoingtohappen.Iamverysorry.”
Iopenedmymouthtosaysomething,butthenthebellrang.
Andthereendedthefinal(ish?)introductionofmetoGreenville.
Ofcourse,myintroductiontoGreenvillewasjustgettingstarted.
BerrycontinuedherprimerinGymafewperiodslater,whileweranincircleslikeplanetsorbitingourgymteacher,Mrs.Harras,whotookamomenttoeyemeandgivemeacurthandshakeofintroductionwhenIwalkedontothefield.
“Harras,”shesaid,holdingoutherhand.“CoachHarras.Physicaleducation.Ialsocoachgirlssoccerandtennis.”
“Anne,”Isaid,shakingwithafirmgripthatwasnotasfirmasHarras’s.“Iwillbeyourstudent,butprobablynotonanyteams.Nooffense.”
“Annie?”Harraslookedmomentarilyinterested.
“No,Anne.Withane.”
“Really?”
“Annewithane?”Irepeated.“It’s…myname?”
Harrassniffed.“IthoughtitwasAnnie.”
Shewasveryclearlydisappointed.
InadditiontosomehowhavingapreferenceforAnnieoverAnne,Harrasalsoseemedtolikeblowingherwhistlealotfornoreason.Likethreetweetsforeverylap?Why?Itriedtozoneoutandfocusinonmylessonandjog,somethingIhadn’tdonesincemylastgymclassafewmonthsearlier,becausewhojogs?
AccordingtoBerry,Greenvilleismadeupoftwogroupsofpeople.
“Okay,so.”Berrylookedaround.“Possiblythisisweirdtotalkabout,like,categorizingpeopleandstuff.Imean,Ithinkit’sweird.”
“Acknowledgingbeforeyoubeginthatmanycategoriesofpeoplearesubjective,”Inoted.“Andimposed.Andlikelyoppressive.Yes.”
“Right!Yeah,okay,sothere’speoplewhohavebeenheresincewhattheywouldsayisthebeginning.They’re,like,thelocals.”Berryroundedtheturn,herhandsballedintofistsassheran,inthebootsIthoughtshewouldhavechangedoutof.“Imean,”sheadded,“obviously,like,everyoneintheUnitedStatescameherefromanothercountryunlessyouareIndigenousorNativeAmerican.”
IpointedatBerry,pleasedbecauseAmericanhistoryandthehistoryofwhatactuallyhappenedinAmericaissometimesathingIthinkonlymymomsandItalkabout.“Yes.ThatisTRUE.”
“Andthentherearethenewcomers,”Berrysaid,“whichiseveryoneelseinGreenville,evenifyourfamilyhasbeenhereforfiftyyears.”
“Andthelocalsarethepeoplewhodeterminethenewcomers,”Iassumed.
“Oh.Yeah.”Berrytookagulpofair.Hercheekswereapplered.“But,youknow,sometimesit’sthenewcomerswhocallthemselvesnewcomers,too.”
“So,Iamdefinitelyanewcomer,”Isaid.
“Imean,ohyeah,youdefinitelyare,but,like,Iam,too,”Berrypointedatherself.“Imean,everyonehereisalwayslike,YourfamilyisPolish.Right?Eventhoughwe’vebeenhereforliketwogenerations.InGreenvilleyearsthat’slikefiveminutes.”
“Yikes,”Isaid,becauseitseemedthemostappropriateresponse.Ortheshortest.Butalso,wow.Likesuperprejudicialandproblematic?
“Superyikes.”Berrynodded,stoppingtotieherlaces,whichwerethickwithpaint.“Butthat’showitishere.”
Ilookedaroundatallthekidsallbundledingroups.“WhataboutTanner?”Iasked.“I’massuminghe’slocal.”
Berrylookedoverhershoulder.“Tannerandcrew?TheycallthemselvestheForevers.”
Tannerandtheboysfromhiscrewweren’taround(sincegyminGreenvilleadheredtothearchaicdefinitionsofthegenderbinary)butthetwogirlsfromhiscrewwerestandingwithafewotherblondsinthecenterofthetrack,stretching.
“TheForeversarethekidswhosefamilieshavebeenheresince,youknow,theywouldsay,forever.Again,supererasingandproblematic.It’slikethewholeFoundingFathers–typething.Also,theyallhaveliketonsofmoney.TannerSpencer,thetallguywhoalwayswearshissoccerstuff,hisfamilyisallmayorsandcouncilmen.ThekidwiththeblackhairandthefrecklesfromyesterdaywasJohnMaxwell;hisfamilyownsthegrocerystoreandthecardealership.AndGillyHenderson,thegirlwiththelonghair,herdadisonthecitycouncilandhergrandfathermanagesthebank.Hermomdiedafewyearsago.ThegirlwiththepigtailsisSarahPye.They’rejustrich…Idon’tknowhow.HermomisPTA.”
“That’stoobadabouthermom.”IlookedoveratGilly,whowasinthecenterofthetrack,bendingtotouchhertoes.“So,liketheForevers,theyfoundedthecity?”
“Oh,Imean,no,probablynot.Maybe?”BerryshruggedasCoachHarrastweetedusbackintoourlapswith—Ithought—anexcessivenumberofblasts.“Imean,theysortof…ownit?”
Thebestwaytorunaplaceistoactlikeyourunit.
AndsomewherenowLucy,the“militantlesbian,”hadbeengivenapositionofpower.
Iwasprettysurethatwouldn’tbegood.
Fortunately,formeatleast,BerryandIhadalmostthesamescheduleexceptforBand,whichBerryhad(tuba!)butIdidn’t,soIcouldprettymuchfollowheraroundalldaysoakingupasmuchinformationasshewaswillingtodishout.AndclingingtoBerrylikealifejacket.
Berryshowedmethetwowaterfountainsthatworked,howtoopenmylocker,whichstuck,andhowtonavigatetheGreenvilleHighbuilding,whichwasbasicallyadoughnut.Alsowherethebathroomswiththeworkingstallswere.
“Sowhatdopeopledoaroundhere,”IaskedaswewalkedfromChemistrytoSpanish,“forfun?”
“Forfun?”Berrytappedherchin.“Somekidsstayhomeandplayvideogamesandwatchmakeupyouvids.Mostly,though,aroundhere,everythingissports.LikeGreenvilleisninetypercentsoccerseasonandtenpercentacademics.SocceristhebigthingatGreenville.”
“Hencethedragonperchedontopofthesignoutside.”
“Yeah,youdon’tmesswiththeDragons.Likeparentsherearesuperintenseaboutthatstuff.”
“Yeah?”
“Like”—Berrysurreptitiouslypointedtothearmofakidwalkingnexttous—“ifyouwanttogetadragontattooaroundhere,youcandothatfromtheageoflikesix.”
“Doyouhaveone?”Iasked.
“Uh,noway.”Berryfrowned.“WhenIgetatattoo,it’snotgoingtobeaGreenvilletattoo!”
“Sothere’salotofpatchydragontattoosaroundGreenvilleiswhatyou’resaying.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
MynextclasswasEnglish,whichisnormallymyfavoriteclass.Becausewhatisbetterthanaclassthatasksyoutoreadathingandthengiveyouropinionaboutit?Evenifyoudon’tlikethethingyou’rereading,atleastyougettogiveyourthoughtsonitlater,and,ifyou’reasupernerd,teachersusuallygiveinandletyougiveanopiniononwhateverelseyouhappentobereading.
WhichiswhyI’vegivenatleastthreebookreportsovertheyearsonbooksaboutdisco.
Thisteacherwasatallandreedymanwithasmoothfaceandathumb-sizeponytailofcurlyhairatthebackofhishead.HesmiledandnoddedasIwalkedintotheclassroom,whichwasthefirsthintofanykindofwarmwelcomeI’dgottenfromanyteacher.InoddedbackandmentallytoldhimthatI100percentapprovedofhisdeliciouslyrusset-orangevestwiththewideshirtcollarwingedovertop.Evenifitwaspairedwithacuriouslightbluedenim.
Achoice.Aboldchoice,really.
IcouldhaveswornIgotalittlevibebackonmyensemble,butitwaslateinthedayandIwaskindofdesperateforsomeacknowledgment,soIcouldhavebeenprojecting.
Wewerestartingthesemesterwithpoetry,whichwasclearfromthecursivemessageontheboard.
Mr.Davidson.English.Takeoutyourpoetryintrobooks.Now.
“Hello,hello,”Mr.Davidsontrilled,fanninghishandoutovertheclass.“Sit,sit,sit.”
Hepickedupalistfromhisdesk,hislipsmovingslightlyasherandownwhatIassumedwasanattendancesheet.Mr.Davidsonpreferredthearenastyleofdeskarrangement.IsatatthetopsideoftheO,whichunfortunatelymeantIwasacrossfromTannerandcrew.
“YoumustbeAnne.”Davidsonlookedupfromthelistwithasmile.“Welcome.We’reofcourseveryhappytohaveyourmotherasournewviceprincipal,andwelookforwardtoyourcontributiontoourschool.”
“Thanks!”
“Maybeyoucouldstartbytellinguswhatyoureadthissummer,”Mr.Davidsonsaid.“Sowecangetalittlesenseofyourliterarytastes?”
“Um.IreadabiographyofthesingerSylvesterandabunchofgraphicnovels.”
Mr.Davidsonnodded.“Excellent.Well,we’lllookforwardtohearingyourthoughtsonourreadinglist,Anne.”
“Cool.”Igrinned.
“Cool,”someoneonmyleftmimicked.
Someoneelsestifledagiggle.
Mr.Davidsonstraightened.“Allright.Let’sgetoutyourtextbooks.”
IlookeduptoseeSarahPyestaringbackatme,herlittlecherry-redponytailsstickingouteithersideofherhead,eachtiedwithagreenbow.“Coooool,”shemouthedexaggeratedly.
AsDavidsonwipedofftheboardatthefrontoftheclass,Tanner,hisheadtilted,faux-whisperedtoSarah.Hisvoicewasonlybarelyaudibleundertheflutterofpapersshifting,bookscomingoutofbagsandslappingontothedesktops.ButIheardit.“Yeah,ImeanIheardshe’saDYKE.”
Ifroze,mypoetrytextbookgrippedinmyhand.
Nexttome,Berryshiftedinherseat.
“Guessthecitywouldrathergiveajobtoadykethansomeonewhocanactuallydoitforreal,”Tanner’svoicecreptupinvolume,asthesoundofbooksfloppingopen,throatsclearing,shoesonthefloor,gotlouder.
Gilly,thegirlwithlonghair,droppedherheadintoherhand,staringatherdesk.
“Iheardthey’realldykes,”Sarahloudwhisperedback.
Mystomachfloppedinmybelly.
Suddenlytherewasaloudbangatthefrontoftheclassroom.EveryonelookeduptoseeMr.Davidson,hishandsstillhoveringintheairoverthebookhe’ddropped.Hepickedthebookup.“We’reinclassnow.Andinclasswelistenuntilspokento.”
Acrosstheroom,Tannergaveabigstretchandyawned.
“Mr.Spencer.”Mr.Davidsonsteppedintotheopencircleofdesks,walkedovertoTannerandputhisfingeronthedeskinfrontofhim.“SIT.UP.”
Tannerslowlyunfoldedhisbodyuntilhewassittingupstraight.
IcouldfeelBerrylookingatme.
Shemouthed,“Sorry.”
Icouldseeasheenofsweatbeadedonherforehead.
“It’sokay,”Iwhisperedback.
Iopenedmypoetrybookandflippedthroughit,mylipsnumb.
Mr.Davidsonstrodethroughtheclassroombacktohisdesk.
“Whydon’twestartwith…Gilly?Readourfirstpoemonpagesix.”
Gillyraisedherheadslowly.“What?”
“Reading,”Davidsonrepeated.“Whichweallenjoy.Pleaseopenyourbook,Gilly.”
IflippedthroughthecontentswhileGillyopenedherbookandstartedreadingthefirstpoem,byRobertFrost.Thetextbookwasabout70percentwhiteguys,butithadapoembyMaryOliverinit,“WildGeese.”WhichisLucy’sfavoritepoem.
IdeallyseeingMaryOliver’swordswouldhavecarriedmepastthisverystressfulsituation.Becausesheisaveryveryamazingwriter.ButallIcouldfeelwasabuzzinginmyheadduringtherestofEnglish.Whenthebellrang,IfollowedBerrytothecafeterialiketherewascementinmysneakers,selectingaboatoffriestogowithmyapplejuice.Outside,therewasapavedareafilledwithtables.Wesatatoneneartheedge.
“Yeahso,”Berrysaid,droppingdownontoherseatandbitingintoherapple.
“Yeah.”
“I’mnotgoingtoaskifyou’reokay,bytheway.Imean,it’scoolifyou’renotokayiswhatI’msaying.It’snotokay…whatTannersaid.Imeanhe’sgoingtosayitagain,butIfeellike,yeah,it’sworthalwayssayingthatit’snotokay.”
“Hesayittoyou,ever?”Iasked.
Berrypulleduptheedgeofheroverallswithherthumbandforefinger.“Obv.”
“Right.Okay.Thatsucks.”Itookadeepbreath.
“Ishouldhavementionedtheelementofsmall-townhomophobiaontopoftheracism,”Berrysaidaswewalkedourtraystoanemptytable.
“Yeah,”Isaid.“Imean,it’snotlikeIhaven’thearditbefore.It’snotjustsmalltowns,BTW.”
“Wait,really?”Berryraisedhereyebrows,highlightingaspatterofneon-orangepaintonhereyebrow.
“Yeah,”Isaid.
Berrylookedattheappleinherhand.“PeoplearehomophobicinCalifornia?”
Ishrugged.“Yeah,I’mprettysuretherearepeoplewhoarehorribleineverycity.ImeaninsomebiggercitiesIthinkit’sjustnot,like,asaccepted.Orobvious?Butitdoeshappen.”
Berryblinked,shook.
“ButI’mnot,like,anexpertoranything,”Iadded.
PeoplehavinganissuewithLGBTQIApeople,orBIPOCpeople,wasn’tnew.Itjustsucked.Consistently.I’dspentalotoftimeasakidwithmymomsadvocatingfortheirexistencetoteacherswhosentmehomewith“drawyourfamilytree”exercisesthatweretrickyformeassomeonewhowasbothadoptedandhadtwomoms.
“Tellthemwe’renotatree.We’reagarden,”Milliesaid.
ActuallyoneofthereasonsLucywentintoeducationwasstufflikethat.Likecurriculumandhowitnormalizesstuff.Lucycameupwiththiswholeexerciseshetaughttoteachersinschoolsallovertheplace.Sowecouldallbegardens.
ButmaybenotinGreenville.Onthisparticularday.
BerryartfullychangedthesubjecttowhatmoviesIhadandhadn’tseen,andwewereknee-deepinadebateaboutwhetherornotanimationisbetterthanliveaction(it’snot)whenIheardTanner’svoiceriseupintotheairlikeaflockofangryseagulls.
“Hey,NEWGIRL!!!”
Iputmydrinkdownonthetable.
“NEWGIRL!DYKE!”
“Anne,”Berrysaidquietly.
IwasalreadyupandwalkingbeforeIrealizedit.
TannerandhiscrewofForeversweresittingatapicnictableafewfeetaway.Itwasclearlythegoodtable.Halfshadedbytree,halfinthesun,thefullbuffetofteensnacksspreadoutforthoseinattendancetoenjoy.Tannerwasspinninghissoccerballonthetable,whichtomeseemeddoublyrude,notthathisfriendsseemedtocare.
AsIsteppeduptothetable,Tannersmiledatme,hisbigteethwhiterthanIthoughttheyshouldbe.
“Excuseme.”Sarahleanedforward,herfingersspreadoutdisplayingapalepinkmanithatmatchedherlipglossandshirt.“Idon’tthinkyou’reinvitedtobenearthistable.And,um,maybeinwhateverfucked-upplaceyoucamefrombeingrudeisokay,butit’snothere.”
Tannergrinnedupatme.
“Somaybeyoucandykeoff.”Sarahsmiledacid.
Gillycoveredhermouthwithherhand,hereyeswide.
Theywerealleatingpizza,bigdroopycafeteriasliceswithbrick-likeredpepperonis,alllaidoutonpaperplatesonbeat-upcafeteriatraysonthetable.Itwasthespecialoftheday,whichIdidn’tgetbecauseitdidn’tsmelllikepizzaandthat’samajorcomponentoffoodforme.
“Hereforsomelunchmeat,newgirl?”TheboyIwasprettysurewasJohnMaxwellsneered,droppinghishandsunderthetable.
“Nah,NewGirl’shere’causeIgotamessageforhermom.”Tannerleanedback,pullinghisfootuponthebench.
“Idon’ttakemessagesformymother,”Isaid,tryingtokeepmyheartfromjumpingoutofmychest.“I’mheretotellyounottousetheworddyke.It’snotyours.It’smine.”
Iturnedandstartedwalkingaway.
“HEY!”Tannercalledafterme.“Hey,I’mnotfinished!DYKE!Yougottagiveyourmaamessage?OKAY?”
IcouldhearSarahlaughing.
IwasthreefeetawaywhenTanneradded,“TellyourSLUTofamothertogobacktoCaliforniasowecangetarealviceprincipalwhoknowswhathe’sdoing.”
Ispunaround.
“Whatdidyousay?”
Youtalkaboutmymom…
“Isaidyourmom’saSLUT.”Tannergrinned.Histeethwereasbigasboats.“YouwannaknowhowIknowthat?”
Ididn’tlethimanswer.Inablurofpurerage,Ichargedathimlikeafreighttrain.
Suddenlymybodywasn’tabody.Itwasavolcano,connectedtothedarkest,fiercest,hottestmatteronthefaceoftheearth.
Tanner’sprettyluckyIonlyhithimwithapieceofpizza.
Ihadotheroptions.FIVE
Okay,soit’sprobablyworthtakingamomenttosaythatmylifeisnotallrainbowsandglitter.Howcoulditbe?Apersoncan’tliveonglitteralone.Notthatanyone’severputintheeffortandtried.
Forexample,thatperformanceIdidatmygrandmother’sninetiethbirthday,wheremyunclepulledmeoffthestagebecausehethoughtIwasinmyunderwear?(Tobeveryveryclear,Iwasn’tinmyunderwear.Alsowhydogirlsalwaysgetaccusedofbeing“intheirunderwear”andboysneverdo?Howareshortssodifferentfromboxers?)Okay,so,whatIdidn’ttellyouiswhathappenedafterhegotmeoffthestage.
Firstofallthewholethingwasasceneoutofafamilysitcom.Millie,whowasrunningmusicandlightsformyperformance(likeadesklampthatIbroughtfromhomebecausethehoteldidn’thaveanactuallightingsetup),jumpedoffthestage,rippingherphonefreefromtheaudiocordthatwaspluggedintothesoundsystemintheprocess,cuttingoffthemusic.Inaflashshe’dalsoyankedmeoutofmyuncle’sgrip.
Lucy,whowasatthebackoftheroomfilming,boltedtothefrontoftheroom.Irememberhearingtheclip-clopofherheelsonthefloorassheracedtowardus.
I,itwassaidlater,washowlinglikeacatintheshower(notmydescription)thiswholetime.
BeforeLucygottothestage,MilliegotintoitwithmyunclebecauseMillieisnotafanofmyunclebecausehedoesstufflikethis.
Milliegotherfaceveryclosetomyuncle’sfaceandgrowled.“Herbert!YouTOUCHmykidonemoretimeandthey’llbewheelingyououtofhereonaSTRETCHER.”
Herbertdoubleddown,shovingmeoutoftheway.“Maybeyourkidshouldn’tbeparadingaroundmygrandmom’sbirthdaypartyinherundies.”
Undies?
“Herbert.”Milliegotevencloser.“YouSHOVEMYKIDorsayundiesaroundmykidonemoretime,youwon’tremembertheexperienceofbeingrolledoutofhereonastretcherbecauseI’mgoingtobeatyouunconscious.”
Atthatpoint,Lucyarrived.
“Okay.”ShesteppedinbetweenMillieandHerbert.“Ineedeveryonetotakeadeepbreath.Herbert.YouoweAnneanapology.”
“WHAT?ThisisGrandmom’sBIRTHDAY,Lucy!Youthinkyoucancomeinherewithyour—”
Lucycuthimoff.“Herbert.I’mgoingtohavetoinsistthatyoubringyourvoicedown.”
AsLucyattemptedtode-escalateandMillie,Ibelieve,consideredthepossiblelegalconsequencesofdeckingmyuncle,I,stillinmyoutfitandtaps,releasedfrommyuncle’sgrip,waswalkingthroughthecrowd,towardthedesserttableatthebackoftheroom.
Bythen,accordingtothevideotakenbymycousinLouise,whowasn’ttapingmyperformancesomuchasrecordingthewholeeventforapapershewasdoingoncommunitygatherings,thehotelhadturnedonthepiped-inhotelMuzakthatwas,Ithink,alooserenditionoftheBeatlessong“WhenI’mSixty-Four.”
MostlywhatIrememberhearingwasthetelltalewhooshinginmyears.Thepoundingofmyheartinmychest,whichmybraintranslatedtotheopeningchordsof“MamaMia”byABBAfromthealbumABBA,releasedin1975,nottobeconfusedwithABBA:TheAlbum,whichcameouttwoyearslaterin1977.
(Iknow,right?Wasitthattheyjustreallylikedtheirnameorwasitthattherewerefourpeopleinthegroupandtheycouldn’tagreeonanalbumtitlesosomeone,maybeBj?rn,waslike,“Finewe’lljustcallthisoneABBA,too!”)
(Yes,mycatisnamedaftertheleadsingerofABBA.Surprised?)
Manyofthedessertsatmygrandma’sbirthdaywerethingsguestshadmade,whichtheyhadplacedonasetoffoldouttablesatthebackoftheconferenceroom.Thetableswerecoveredinplastictableclothsandliberallysprinkledwithcoloredconfetti.Notexactlyclassy,butwhosaysanolderperson’sbirthdayhastobeclassy?
Herbert’sgrandmom,mygreat-grandmom,wasaveryinterestinglady.
ShewastheonewhoboughtLucyherfirstdiscorecord,theJacksons’self-titled1978albumTheJacksons.WhichiswhyIknewshewouldlovemyperformance.
Forthisbirthday,Herbertboughtherdecorativesoaps,justFYI.Whobuyssomeonesoapasapresent?
(Herbert.Consistently.)
Okay,sobacktothestory:SoonthesetablesthereweretwotraysofRiceKrispiesTreats,twoplattersofJell-Osquares,twodozenchocolate-chipcookies,andthreecakes,allbecauseeveryoneignoredLucy’sorganizingemailwithachartofdessertsandjustdidtheirownthing.Whichisalsostandardonthatsideofthefamily.
Twoofthethreecakeswerestore-bought.Which,obviously,Ihavenojudgmentonthat.Noteveryonehastimetomakeacake(andIdon’tknowhowtobake).
Thethingaboutstore-boughtcakesistheyaremostlyicing.Likeatleastaninch,asanyonewhohaseverpushedherfingerintotheicingononeofthesecakesordaredtotrytoeatamostlyicingcornerpiecewilltellyou.Idon’tknowifthatwentintomydecision,standinginfrontofthattable.Iwasonlystandingthereaminute.MaybeIpickedthebig-asswhitecakebecauseitwasoneofthedessertsatthefrontofthetableandIcouldbarelyreachbecauseIwas,asIsaid,seven.
IremembermythumbssinkingintotheicingasIpickedupthecakeandmarcheditbacktomyuncleandmymoms.Whowerestillfighting.
“Herbert.ThisisasituationwecaneitherchoosetobeCALM,intheinterestsofGrandmom’sbirthday,orwecanchoosetomakethisdayaboutconflict—”
“Jesus,LUCY!”Herbertthundered.“Youandyourfuckingfeministpolitic—”
IrememberMilliesteppedbackwhenshesawme,Iguessoutofthecornerofhereye.MaybetoseewhatIwasdoingorwhatIwascarrying.IgathershefiguredoutwhatwasabouttohappenjustasIheavedGrandmom’sbirthdaycakeupandslappeditintomyuncle’storso.
LucysaidshedidthinksomethingwasgoingonbecauseshecouldhearmytapshoesasIstalkedbackovertomyunclefromthedesserttable.
Mygrandmomlaterexpressedherreliefthatitwasoneofthestore-boughtcakes.
Tothisday,wheneverIhavetogotoanythingwhenmyuncleHerbertisthere,healwaysholdsuphishandsbyhisfacewhenIwalkin,likeindefenseoffuturecakes.
Icouldgiveyouafewotherexamplesofmedoingthiskindofthing.
LikewhenwelivedinKansasCityandIstartedahotdogfightatDebbieSmolkum’seleventhbirthdaypartyaftershemadefunofmyfriendAlice’sbathingsuitbecauseAlicewaswearinghermom’soldbathingsuit.DebbiesaidAlicelookedlikeaseniorcitizen.ItoldDebbiethere’snothingwrongwithseniorcitizens.Debbietolduswecouldn’tbeinthepoolbecauseseniorspeethemselves(nottrue)andsoIwalkedovertoDebbieandIhitherwithahotdogherdadhadjustgrilledmeontheBBQ,whichendedupruiningtheSmolkums’poolbecauseDebbieretaliatedandthrewabunatmeanditwentintothepoolfilter.
(Which,let’ssayit,that’sonDebbie.)
IwillsayI’venever,like,physicallyharmedanyone.Butoverallit’snotgood.Iknowit’snotgood.
So,yeah.Anyway.
BACKTOTHEIN-THE-NOWSTORY
So,torecap.Tannerwasahomophobic,sexist,probablyotherthings,jerk.
IhitTanner…withapizza.
Stilltechnicallyhitting.
I’mnotexactlyclearonhowtheactualfull-onfoodfightstartedafterIslappedTannerwiththepizza.WhatIdorememberisthatassoonasthepepperonimadecontact,hebasicallybouncedupfromhisseat,knockingmebackontheground.
(Onmyalreadybruisedass,BTW.)
AndbythetimeIgottomyfeet,thefoodfightwasinfulleffect.Foodflew,hardandfastlikepropelledbythewindsofahurricane,untilthewholethingcametoacrashingendwithmanyangrywhistleblastsandmeandTannergettingpulledintotheoffice.
Iwillsay,atleastitwasn’tawasteofpizza,becausetheGreenvilleHighcafeteriapizzawasandishorrible.Likedon’tcallitpizzaifit’sactuallyasoft,barelyedible,triangularpieceofcardboardcoveredinred-and-yellowgoop.Like,maybepeopleinGreenvillearesomadallthetimebecausethey’veneverhadadecentslice.WhichIcansayI’vehadinalmosteveryotherplaceI’velivedin,includingPetaluma,whichhasapopulationof60,000andatleastadozengreatpizzerias.
(Dothemath.Greenvillecouldstillhaveatleastone.)
Igatheredthatthepizzadetailwasnotsomethinganyone,mymomincluded,wantedtohearfrommeasIstoodinheroffice—hernewoffice—anhourlater,withhernewboss,PrincipalLynde,whoIwilldescribeasawomanwhowastallandmadeofgranite,withimpossiblyshinyhairpiledontopofherheadinaperfectsilverbunandgreenwire-frameglasses.Awomanwiththesmallest,angriestmouthIhaveeverseenonahuman.
PrincipalLyndewasstandinginthemiddleofmymom’sofficewhenIarrived.TannerandwhoIcouldonlyassumewerehisparentsweresittinginthewaitingareajustoutside.Thelookonmymom’sfacesaidthatthesethingswerenotinanywaygoodthings.
“Wellthen,”Lyndesnapped,hervoicecuttingglass,“quitethefirstimpression.Violence.Anddisorder.Andspreadingherinfluencealloverthestudentbody.And…”PrincipalLyndeleanedforwardandpeeredoverherglasses.“Dressedlikeaprostitutetoboot.”
Myeyeswidened.
“Andthathair.”Lyndeshookherhead.
Lucysteppedforward.“PrincipalLynde,”shecutin.“Anne’sclothingandhairarenotatissuehere,andIwouldliketobeclear—”
“OH!”PrincipalLyndeswiveled,herbodystiff.“Soyouareclearwhatisandisn’tatissuehere?Areyou?I’mgladyou’resoexperiencedwiththesematters,MissShirley.”
“Iam…”Lucysnuckalookatme.“IamofcoursenotpleasedtohavetodisciplineAnneonthefirstday,butthatfallswithinmyresponsibilities,andIwillmakesureIdealwiththissituationappropriately.”
PrincipalLyndesniffedthesniffoftheunimpressed.
“Isee.Well,pardonmeifIquestionyourjudgmentgivenwhatyourchildiswearingandhowshehasconductedherselfsincearrivingatmyschool.”Lyndesteppedforward,onestepcloserintomyspacethanIwouldhaveliked.Possiblysoshecouldlookdownonmelikeonelooksdownacliffatsomethingthathasjustfallenoffthatcliffandendedupasplatontheground.
Ormaybethat’sjustwhatitfeltlike.
“IwillgoandreassuretheSpencerfamily,then.”Lyndetookanothermomenttodeliveranothersteelylookbeforeglidingacrossthefloorandoutthedoor.“I’msuretheywillbethrilledtoknowyouhavethisundercontrol.”
Asthedoorclosedbehindher,Itookmyfirstbreathinfiveminutes.
Lucyalsotookadeepbreath,leaningonherdesk,whichhad,Iwasonlythennoticing,justpillarsofpaper,precariouslyperchedoneveryinchofspace.Itlookedlikeshewasconductinganexperimenttoseehowmanypiecesofpapershecouldfitonherdesk.Andtheanswerwasalot.
ItlookedlikeLucyhadalsohad…kindofaday.Hersmoothmorninghairlookedlikeithadbeenrestyledbyanangryhordeofkittens.Hersuitlookedweirdlywrinkledandhersleeveswererolleduptoherelbows.Iwasprettysurethisdiscussionaboutmewasnotmymom’sfirstnot-greatdiscussionwithPrincipalLynde.
“Mom,”Isaid,catchingmyself.
Lucystaredatme.Thenhereyesskippedpastme.
CoachHarras,whistleblowerextraordinaire,appearedinthedoorway.
“Whostartedit?”Lucylookedatme,thenatHarras.
“Yourki—”Harrasstarted.
“Idid,”Icutin.
Lucygavemeasharplook.“You’reinterruptingCoachHarras?”
“I’msorry,”Isaid,chintomychest.
“Darnright,”Harrasmumbled.
“Sorrytowhom?”Lucyasked.
Iturnedtowardthedoorway.“Sorry,CoachHarras,Ishouldn’thaveinterrupted.”
“We’refinenow,thankyou,CoachHarras,”Lucysaid,withhersoftest,calmestvoice.CoachHarrasgaveasmallhuff,thenturnedandwalkedaway.Lucyclosedthedoorbehindher.
“Okay,”Lucysaid,afewsecondsafterthedoorclicked.“Okay.”Shetookanotherdeepbreath.“Thisishard.Thisisanewschool.Thisisatownthat’snotlikeothertownswherewe’velived.”
“Mom—”
“Youcan’tkeep—Anne.Doyouunderstandwhatitmeanswhenyouactthisway?”Lucylookedtothedoor,throughwhichshecouldseeTannerandhisfamily
“I—”
“Youcannotactoutthisway.”Lucy’svoicecutsharply.“Isaythisasamotherandastheviceprincipalofyourschool,Anne.Doyouwanttotalkaboutwhythishappened?”
“Notreally,”Isaidquietly.IcouldstillhearTanner’svoiceshoutingtheworddykeringinginmyears,buttheideaofsayinganythingaboutthattomymotherinthatofficeatthatmomentseemedaspossibleasturningintoabirdandflyingoutthewindow.Orsomething.
“Areyousure?”
Thephoneonherdeskstartedringing.
“Yeah.”
Lucylookedlikeshewantedtosaymanythingstome.Therewasaknockonthedoor.
“Well.We’llrevisitthiswhenIgethome.Gotoclass.”
Andthenshestoodup,walkedovertome,andpeeledapepperonioffthetopofmyheadIlegitdidn’tknowwasthere.Sheflickedthepepperoniintothetrash,openedthedoor,andwalkedoutofherofficeandintotheroomwhereTannerandhisparentswerewaitingwithPrincipalLynde.
“Areyougoingtotalktoher?”Tanner’sfatherbarkedatPrincipalLynde,clearlypointingatme.“Where’sthatkidgoing?”
ThelastthingIheardasIexitedintothehallwashisboomingvoice:“DISGUSTING.”
BerryhadtogotoBandpracticeafterschool,butshesentmeatextofabunchofpizzasandhappyfaces.Which,everytimeIthoughtaboutthelookonTanner’sfacewhenthepizzahithim,Iagreed,butthenIgothomeafterschool.AndthenanhourlaterLucygothome,anditfeltlikeitwaslesshappyfacesandmorethefacewithallthelinesonit.
Iwon’tgiveyouthewholething.Butthehighlightswereasfollows.
Iwasinserioustrouble.
Lucy’sfirstdayathernewjob,whichwasalreadygoingtobereallydifficult,wasanightmareforreasonsthatdidnotneedtobedescribedtomeindetailinorderformetotakethemseriously.Butneedlesstosay,itwasn’tjustthestudentswhothoughtamilitantdykewastakingovertheirpreciousschool.
ThePTA,includingTanner’sfamily,hadalreadyexpressedseriousdoubtsastoLucy’squalifications.Throughaseriesofemails.Andvoicemails.
Sittingonthecouch,Milliefrowned,rubbingLucy’sback.“It’syourfirstday.It’sAnne’sfirstday.Howcantheyevenpresumetojudgeanything?”
“Right,”Lucysighed.“Well,Lyndesaidsheisconsideringthisincidentas‘meritingaprobationaryapproachtomyjob.’”
Millielookedlikeshewantedtosaymore,butshegaveLucyahuginstead.
So.Yeah,Iguesssincetherewerebiggerthingsgoingon,intheend,Iwasnotgrounded.Buttheyweredisappointed.
Thisistheultimatelesbianpunishment,bytheway.Disappointment
AfterLucylefttogotoherstudy,Millietookafewminutestojustlookatme.Thenshestoodandwenttothekitchen.Ifollowed.Thenshelookedatmesomemore,andstandingnexttoagiantbagofcatfoodthatalreadyhadaholeinthebottom,shedrilledherlesbianlaserbeamsintomybrain.Searching.Assessing.Debating.Judging.
“Pleasesaysomething,”Icracked,droppingmyheadback.
“Saysomething?”Milliemused.“Anything?Whypizza?Whyonthefirstday?Thatkindofthing?”
“I’msorry,”Imoaned.“I’msorryIhitTannerwithpizzaandthenitstartedawholepizzafight.”
“Yeah,theproblemwiththatisthatitsoundsfunny,”Milliesaid,kickingastraypebbleofcatfoodacrossthefloor,toBjorn’sdelight.“Butit’snotreallyfunny.”
“No.”
“Youknow,whenyouwereakid,yourdoingthissortofthingwasadmittedlykindofamusingtome,”shesaid,walkingbackovertothecouchandfloppingdown.Montypromptlyjoinedher.“AndIthoughtitwasgoodyouwerestandingupforyourselfbecauseIknewyouweregoingtohavetodothat.Probablyyourwholelife,forsomereasonsthatareobviousandmanyreasonsthatarenot.”
“Okay.”IsatonthecoffeetableasBjornploppeddownandrolledovertoshowusabellythatsuggestedhe’dbeenbreakingintothecatfoodontheregular.
“Canyoutellmeexactlywhathappened?”Millieasked.
MontypickedupherheadfromMillie’slapandraisedherdogeyebrowatme.Likesheknew.Goldenretrieversalwaysknow.
Damntheiradorabledogfaces.
“Thatkid,Tanner,saidsomethingshitty.”Ifrowned.“Itwasn’t…Ijust…Icouldn’tjustnotdoanything,soIdidashittything,okay?”
“Sotwo…crappythings?How’sthatworkingforyou?”
“Idon’tthinkthey’reequal,”Icountered.“Ifsomeonesayssomethinghateful,that’snotthesameasapizzaintheface.”
“Ithinkit’shardtosaywhatiswhat,especiallywhenyouweren’texactlyincontrolofyouractions.Right?”
“Youdon’tknowwhatkidsherearelike.”
“Ohyeah,Ido,”MillierubbedMonty’searsbetweenherfingers.“Believethat,kid.Idoknowexactlywhattheyarelike.”
“Well,thenifyouknow,youknowhowcrappyitis,andyouknowhowbaditcanbe.”
ThethingaboutMillieis,she’sstealth.She’sobservant.She’salwaysrightinthiswayIfindreallyannoying.
“Well,givenhowbaditis,”Millienoted,“it’sagoodthingyoudealtwithitinawaythatwillmakeeverythingbetterforyou,andforyourmom.”
Millieisnotalawyer.Likeshedoesthisjobthatdoesn’tinvolvewords.Ithinkmaybeshetakespicturesbecauseifshediduseherwords,shewouldjusteviscerateusall.Likeitwouldn’tbefair,iswhatI’msaying.
“It’snotthatIdon’tbelieve,don’tknow,thatmovingheremeansthere’satonofnotgreatstuffyouhavetodealwith,Anne.It’sthatI’mworriedmaybeyou’vesettledononewayofdealingwithit,andreally,kiddo,that’sjustnotgoingtoflyanymore.Notjustbecausewe’relivinghere,bytheway.Butjustingeneral.Itdoesn’tsolveanyofthelegitproblemsyouarehavingtosmacksomeoneinthefacewithlunch.”
ShereachedoverandclickedontheTV,whichshelikestowatchonmutesoshecantalkoverandaboutit.
“Okay,”Igrumbled,“Igetit.Iwillapologize.ToTanner.”
Millienodded.“Soundslikesomethingthatcouldactuallymakethingsbetter.”
“Thankyouforthelifelesson,”Imumbled.
“You’remostwelcome,”Millieproppedherfeetuponthecoffeetable,lightlytappingmeoutofherway.“Godoyourhomework.”
“Fine.”
Iwasalmostoutoftheroomwhensheadded,“Smalltownsaren’tliketheotherplaceswe’velived,Anne.”
“Theydon’tlikenewcomershere,”Isaid.
“Theydon’tlikenewcomers?Interesting.Iwouldn’tgothatfar,”Millie’stonewaslevel.“Theyisanamorphousandnotexactlyhelpfulamountofpeopletodescribe.Asyouwellknow.”
“Thepeoplewholivehere,”Isaidslowandenunciating.“Don’tlikenewcomers.It’strue.Stereotypescanbetrue.”
“I’mjustsayingyoudon’tknowthisplaceyet,andmaybeinsteadofjustreactingtoit,youcouldfigureitoutfirst,”Milliesaid.“Figureitoutmore.”
“Fine.”
“TakeMontyoutbeforeyougouptoyourroom,”MilliesaidasMontysprangoffherlap.
“Whataboutdinner?”
“I’llgetdinnerlater.WalkMonty.”
“Okay.”
“Iloveyou.”
“Iloveyou,too.”
“I’mcheeringforyouinthis,bytheway.Idon’tweartheofficialMarsintergalacticcheerleadingoutfit,butIamstill…cheering.Foryou.”
“Great.”
Montystilldidn’tknowthelayofthelandinGreenvilleeither,whichmeantgettinghertowalkanyfartherthanablockfromourhousewasstillbasicallylikepullingteeth.IfeltlikeIwastorturingher.
“Comeon,Montsamillion,”Imoaned,“helpmeouthere.”
Intheend,our“walk”wasmestandingnexttoMontywhileshelayonthesidewalkandlookedupatme.
“YoulooklikeIfeel,Montyo’Mine,”Isaid.“You’reannoyingandyoulooklikeIfeel.”
Milliewasright,Ididn’tknowGreenville.
AndmaybeIdidn’twantto.
IwascarryingMontyhomewhenIgotatextfromBerry.
Morepizzas.Andrainbowemojis.Andunicorns.Allarrangedinpatternsaroundasinglesentence.
BERRY
SEEYOUTOMORROW,PIZZAFIGHTER!SIX
Okay,somyfirstdayatGreenvilleHigh,andlet’ssaymygeneralentryintoGreenvilleasawhole,hadnotgonegreat.
Andthatwasnotentirelymyfault,obviously.Like,Ithinktherecordwillshowitwasn’tjustme.ButIhadalsolostmytemperandasaresultgottenthecuttingandaccuratereprimandfromMillie.
ThenextdaywhenLucywokeup,Ihadalreadypreparedastackof(store-boughtmix)pancakesforherandmadehercoffeeandpackedherlunchwithasandwichandcut-upcelery.
Lucytookthelunchbagfrommeandtookamomenttoeyeballmyoutfit.Whichwasprobablymymostnotabletodate.Becauseitwasentirely…normal.
“Wheredidyougetthoseclothes?”sheasked,feelingthelunchbagontheslyforleaksbecauseIhave,inthepast,packedLucylunchesthatleaked.
“Mycloset,”Isaid,pointingatthebag,“AndIwrappedeverythinginthereup,sodon’tworry.Noleaks.”
TheshirtwasactuallyMillie’sshirt,whichshegotfromoneofthemanyartfestivalssheattended.Mostofthesedealsgaveoutshirtswithlogossobigandstickyfeelingtheywerealmostunwearable.Thisshirt,fortunately,wasfromaminimalistimagefestivalcalled“I,”sotheonlylogowasatinyIontheleftsleeve.ThejeanswerejeansIhadoriginallyboughttodistressandacidwash,backwhenIwasinamoreacidwashphase.
Danny,whoreceivedaphotoofthisoutfitbeforeImadebreakfast,hadkindlytakenthetimetotextmeanencouragingmessage.
DANNY
HavefungivingupyourindividualityforGreenville’sCapitalistShitheads!!!
Lucylookedmeupanddownwithatiny,worriedfrownonherface.
“I’llseeyouatschool!”Ichirped.
Lucy,thatday,waswearinganotherwomen’ssuitthing,green,with,Iwouldsay,notentirelyeffectivegoldbuttons.Beforeshetookthisjob,there’snowayLucywouldwearapencilskirtmadeoutofwool.Shecertainlywouldn’twearthattwodaysback-to-back.ReallywhatshewouldnormallywearwassomethinglikewhatIwaswearing,butwithkhakis.Becausethat’sLucy’sspecificgay.
Butno,Lucywaswearinganundoubtedlyuncomfortable,notincharacteroutfit,andshewaswearingitforGreenville,I’massuming.Toletthemknowshewasn’tamilitantfeminist.Orthatifshewasamilitantfeminist,shewasatleastwillingtoputinalittleefforttoblend.(Saythis,though,isn’tastifffabriclikethewoolinthesedresssuitskindofsimilartowhatyou’dwearinthearmy?Maybe?)IfLucycouldwearanuglywoman-suitforGreenville,IcouldwearwhiteandtragicallyunadorneddenimforGreenville.
NotthatIhadtoexplainthistoDanny,whoclearlywasn’tgettingthecontext.Iwasn’tfittinginorgivingup.Iwasputtingup…awhiteflag.IwaschillingforalittlebitsoLucyandIcouldgetourfootingatGreenvilleHigh.That’sall.
AlthoughI’llsaythis,whowearswhite?It’ssoannoying.LiketwosecondsafterIputiton,Ialreadyhadalittlespotofcoffeeonthebottom.Youknowwhatyoucan’tseecoffeestainson?Orange.Blue.Floralpatterns.Younameit.
RightbeforeIleftthehouseIturnedandspottedmyreflectioninthemirrorMilliehadjusthunginthehallway,normallyamirrorIusedtotakeamomenttomakeareallyweirdfaceatbeforeleavingthehouse.Youknow,justtokeepmyselfinthepractice.Myorangehair,whichthatdayhaddecidedtoretainabitofapouf,fluffedaroundmyface.
Ipulledatieoutofmypocketandtieditbackintoaboringponytail.
Isquintedatmyreflection.“Youcanbenormal.”
Myreflectionsquintedback.Admittedlythemeinthemirrordidn’tlookconvincingorfamiliar.
“Whiteflag,”Itoldmyself.“It’sgoingtobefine.”
Meinthemirrorblinkedasiftosay,Sureitis.Niceshirt.
Roller-skatingtoschoolwasmyoneconcession,andnecessarybecauseMilliehadtotakeMontytothevetforacheckup.Iworemybaby-bluerollerskateswiththepinkstarsonthetoesfornootherreasonthanthefactthatItrippedoverthemgettingoutofbedthatmorning.
(Sidenote:Ireallyneededtocleanupmyroom.)
BythetimeIgottoGreenvilleHigh,I’dalmostforgottenaboutwhatIwaswearing.Thatis,until,weavingbetweencarsintheparkinglot,IalmostslammedintoPrincipalLyndegettingoutofhermassivepickuptruck.MytoebrakessquealedlouderthanIwantedthemto—andloudenoughtofallunderLynde’sjudgmentalicyglare.
“AnneShirley,”shesnapped,spinningsharplytofacemeasIattemptedtostaystillwithoutputtingmyhandonhercar.“Roller-skatingintheparkinglot.”
“Uh,yes.”Ilookeddown.“Mrs.Lynde.PrincipalLynde.”
Lyndesniffed,likemyskatessmelled.(Theydidnot.)
“Ihardlythinkthoseareappropriateforschoolgrounds.”
“Right,Ijust”—IpointedbackfromwhereI’dcome—“wasjust…gettingtoschool.”
LyndenarrowedhereyesasIattemptedtostopsweating.Onceagain,herhairwasapillarofsilver.WhichmademewonderifLucywastryingtodoasimilarhelmetytypethingwithhowshewasdoingherhairlately.
“Ihavespokentoyourmother,”Lyndecontinued,raisinghereyebrowsandliftingherchinasshespoke,“asyouknow.WehadgreathopesforherhereatGreenville.I’msureyoushareyourmother’saspirationstomakeagoodstartatthisschool.”
“Yes,”Isaid.“Ofcourse.”
“Ofcourse.”Lynde’sgazefellonmyhead.“Thathair.”Sheleanedforwardslightlytolookatthetopofmyhead,liketherewasaspiderthereshewantedtokill.“Whyyouwoulddebaseyourbodywithsuchapointlesseffortisbeyondme.Givenallyouhavetoovercome.”
Forjustasecond,Iletmygazenarrow.AllIhavetoovercome?
Lynderaisedaneyebrow.WasIglaringather?Yes.Idroppedmygazetomyskates.“Okay,well.”
“StudentsatGreenvilleHighlooktheireldersintheeyewhentheyarespokento,”PrincipalLyndesaid.
Iliftedmychin.Somethinginsidemewastickinglikethosebombsyouseeincartoons.
“Yes.”
“Iknowyouareissuinganapologytoday,”Lyndecontinued.“Pleasemakeitagoodone.”
Andwiththatshepivotedandheadedtowardtheschool.
IhadaflashimageofmeputtingmyskatethroughLynde’spristinewindshield.ThesoundofglassbreakingandtheinevitableshriekofLynde.
Youwanttoseemeovercome?HUH?
WATCHMEOVERCOMETHISGLASS!
Oh,andmaybeIdidn’tdyemyhairbrown,butIdidwearuglyclothestoschoolonpurpose,andclearlyLyndedidn’tevencare!
“Hey.”
Ispunaround,andmighthaveputmyhandonorpossiblythroughLynde’spassengerwindowifBerry’shadn’treachedoutandgrabbedmyarmbeforeIdidafullspill.
“Ohmygosh,I’msosorry,”Berrygushednervously.“Ithoughtyoumaybeneededarescue.FromLynde.”
Berry,Inoticed,woreavariationofthesamethingeveryday.Coveralls.Greenhair.Thatdayshewaswearingagreen-and-bluetie-dyedshirtunderhercoverallswithmatchingsocks.
“Hey,”Isaidasshereleasedmyarm.“Thanks.”
“WhatdidLyndewant?”
“Shehatesmyhair.”Isighed,rollingtothefrontstepswithBerryclosebehind.
IsatonthestepswhileGreenvilleHighstudentsfloodedpast,Berrysittingnexttome,watchingmeunlace.Herstarewasveryintense.Whichismaybewhyitfeltweird.Like,couldeveryonejustbackoffforamoment?
“Areyouokay?”Berryaskedquietly.
“IhavetogofindTanner,”Isaid,slingingmyskatesovermyshoulderandchargingintotheschool.“Andno.”
“Oh,”Berrysaid.
Tannerwasstandinginthehallrightnexttothedoortohomeroom,wearinghissignaturesoccerjerseyandjeans.Soccerballinhand.Waiting.Helookedupandspottedme,histhicklipscurlingintoasmile.SarahstoodonhisleftandGillyleanedagainstthewallonhisright,abookclutchedtoherchest.
“Well,well,”SarahsingsongedasIapproachedthem.“It’sPizzaGirl.”
Poppingtheplikeitwasbubblegum.
Ipulledmywholebodyintoafist.Heldittightly.IstoppedinfrontofTanner.Tookabreath.“Tanner.Iwanttoapologizeforhittingyouwithapieceofpizzayesterday.”
Tanner’smouthgapedopen.“Uh-huh.”
“Itwasn’tappropriate.SoI’msorry.”
Tannernodded,histonguepokedintothebackofhisbottomlip.“Yeahand.”
Thefisttightened.Whatwashegettingat?I’dapologized.Whatdidhewant?
More.
“Iwon’tdoitagain,”Isaid,myvoicesmall.
Me.Small.
“Yah.”TannersmirkedatSarah,whosmirkedback.Gillylookeddownthehall.Slow,likehewassavoringeachmoment,TannerdrapedhisarmoverSarah’sshoulder.“Seeyoudon’t.Can’thavethatkindofbehavioraroundhere.”
Cryingisnaturalandhealthy.Bothmymoms“havecries”andsometimesMillieevenmakesuswatchsadmoviessowewillcry,ifshefeelsweallneedit.Lucysaysit’sanaturalhumanfiltrationsystem.ButinthehallsofGreenville,itfeltdangerous,openingupmyinsideslikeasetofshutterssoeveryonecouldseeinsidemyhouse.
SoIuncried,whichrequireskindofdisappearingfromyourbodyforamomentandgoingsomewherefaraway.IusedtodoitwhenIwasreallysmall,whenIgotscared.I’dfloataway.Icalledit“ballooning.”
Ijustsortofdriftedoff.AndmeinjeansandawhiteshirtfloatedintohomeroomandthenfloatedtoMath.ThenIfloatedtoBiology,adottedoutlineofaperson.Andthatwasprettymuchmefortherestoftheday.
Ihonestlyhadn’tevennoticedthatthedaywasoveruntilBerrypokedmelightlyintheshoulderasIwasstandinginfrontofmylockerandaskedifIwantedtoskatearoundtheparkinglotafterschool.
“Itmight,youknow”—shesearchedmyfacewithherhazeleyes—“helptosortofshakethedayoff.”
Themoreshelookedatme,thelessIwasanoutline.Itwaslikeshewascoloringmeinwithhereyes.
“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.
InoticedBerryhadafreckleonhernosethatlookedlikeaheart.
Ontheleftandrightofus,kidsrelishedslammingtheirlockersasloudlyaspossible.
“Biggametonight,”Berryadded.
“Yeah,”Isaid,myheadinmylocker.“Look.Ikindofgottagetoutofhere.Likenow.”
Groupsofkidsweregatheringoutside,stripesofgreenswipedacrosstheircheeks,greenfoamhatsandfingers.Homemadeflagswithdragons.
Islammedmylockershut,turneddownthehallway.
“DON’T!COME!FORUS!”theychanted.“WE!WILL!DESTROYYOU!”
Iduckedunderthenoiseandpickedupmypace.Itwasn’tevenadecentchant.
Berryfollowedme,herskateboardtuckedunderherarm.“So.Whatareyougoingtolistento?Likeonyourwayhome?”
Iscrolledthroughmyphone.“IthinkI’mgoingtostartwith‘TurntheBeatAround.’”
“VickiSueRobinson.”Berrynodded.“Goodsong.”
AsIpulledmyskatesonbytheedgeoftheparkinglot,IwatchedBerrydropherskateboardandputherfoot,whichtodayforthefirsttimewassneakerclad,onthedeck.
“It’sreallycoolthatyouknowallthisstuff.Aboutdisco.”
“Mydad.”Berrysmiled.“Hetaughtmehowtoskateboard,too.Thefulleducation.”
“MymomLucytaughtme,”Isaid.“Howtoskateandeverythingelse.”
“It’sagoodskillset…tohave,”Berryoffered.“ForsurvivinginGreenville.”Shehoppedonherboard.“Icanfollowyouout.Okay?”
“Sure.”
Standingonmyskates,forthefirsttimesinceI’dtakenthemoffthatmorning,Ifeltalittlebitme.Poppingmyheadphonesin,Ipressedplayonmyphone,leanedmyheadback,andletthedrumsandviolinsringthroughmybody.Werodeforablocktogether,Berryonherskateboardrollingovertheasphaltlikeasurfer,herbodycalmandsteady,handinpocket,herhairstickingupinabiggreenspriglikeahappygreenonion.
ThewhoopsandhollersofGreenvilleHighgotsmallerandsmallerwitheverypumpofmyskates.
Andthemusictookover.
Atsomepoint,Berrycurvedleftandwavedasshedisappeareddowntheroad.
Iturnedrightandpickedupspeed.
Afullpersonagain.
Itwasacrappyday,butatleastitwasover.Andifanything,atleastoneotherpersongotthatbeinginGreenville,rightnow,wassurviving.SEVEN
Berrywaitedforafullweekofthewhiteshirttoaskmeaboutit.
Tobefair,itwasprobablystartingtolookweird.Becauseitwasthesameshirtandpantseverydayforeightconsecutiveschooldays.Ormaybethat’sjustweirdtome.
Behindthescenes,BTW,IhadtowashtheshirteverynightbecauseIgotastainoniteveryday,everythingfromstrawberryicecreamtoMonty’spawprintstotheorangeglowthatwasconstantlycreepingaroundthecollarfrommyhair.MillietookadvantagebymakingsureIdidallofthelaundryeverynightwhenIwashedmyshirt.
“Imean,”shenoted,plonkingthebasketofto-be-washedonmyfloor,“youarewearingmyT-shirt.Again.”
IdidgetasensethatMilliegotthatmewearingtheT-shirtandapologizingtoTanner—whichsomehoweveryoneknewabout,includingMillie—wasconnected.Lucymayhavegottenit,too,butitwashardtosaybecauseshewasburiedundertheloadofherVPduties.
ForeveryschoolnightthatIworetheshirt,Milliealso,magically,letmepickwhatwehadfordinner.Which,you’rewelcome,everyone:tacos,lasagna,andspaghetti,andrepeat.
Thisdidn’thelpwithstainsonmyshirt,butwhatever.
Bytheway,onthefirstweekendofmywhite-shirtspreeIworeonlysequins.Likeasacleanse.DannyalsosuggestedIwearonlyorangetocombatthewhite.
Iagreed.
Soyes,ondaysevenoftheWhiteShirtExperiment,Berryfoundmeonthewayintoclassand,firstpinningherlipstogether,inquired.
“So.Like.Nottointrude,butI’mjustguessingthis,like,wholelookyou’redoing…Imeanit’scool!Right?It’sjust,likeI’massuming,fromtheotherstuffyouworebefore,thisisnotyourstandardclothingchoice?Imean,Ihaven’treallyknownyouthatlongbutit’sprettyclearyou’reanoverdresseratheart.”
“Overdresser.”Inodded,tuggingupmyjeans.“Yeah,that’sonewaytoputit.”
Asweplonkeddowninourseats,IturnedtoBerry.“Imean,youwearthesamethingeveryday.”
“Yeah.”Berrylookeddownathercoveralls,whichtodayweresplatteredwithbluepaint.“Imean,IlikethesecoverallsandIdon’tlikeanythingelse.Ihavelikeeightofthem.”
“They’recool.”
Berryreachedupandtweakedherponytail.Shedidalittleside-to-sidedanceinherchair.SomethingInoticedshedidwhenshewasthinking.“Doyoulikeyouroutfit,thisoutfit?”
Ipulledoutmybooksforclass,notingthestudentspilingin.“No,”Iadmittedquietly.“I’mtryingsomething.I’mblendingin,”Iadded.“Temporarily.”
“Huh.”Berrynodded.“Blending.”
“Ijustneedtoflyundertheradarforabit,”IsaidasMrs.Shermanstrodeinthroughthedoorwithagiantmugofcoffee.
Berrylookedatthefrontoftheclass.“Ihopeitworks.”
Shedidn’tsoundsuperhopeful.
Andtobehonest,Iwasn’tsupercleariftheshirtwasworking.ThefourthdayIworeboringclothes(thesameboringclothes),IgotabrisknodfromPrincipalLyndewhenIpassedherinthehallwayandnothingelse.
Iwasevencoveringmyhairwithahatthatday.Andnothing.
Tanner’ssoccertrainingorwhateveryoucalleditseemedtobepickingupfor“thebiggame”(wasthereoneofthoseeveryweek?),whichIknewbecausehetalkedaboutitloudlyeveryday,sopossiblyIwasn’thismainconcern.
Somaybe,Iwaskindofridingthefitting-intrain…ish.
Andthen…
LikerightafterBerryaskedmeabouttheshirt,IwalkedtoEnglish.Andspotted…it.Apieceofgreenconstructionpaperwithaprintedsheetwithlinesonit.AndatthetopitsaidAUDITIONS
Myheartsoftlyexploded.
“Auditions,”Icroaked,likethewordjumpedoutofmythroat.
Berrysmiled.“Schoolplay.”
“Right.”Icouldhardlybreathe.
“Yeah,Iwasactuallygonnaaskyouaboutthattheotherday,”Berrysaidaswetookourseats.“Itseemedlikesomethingthatwouldbeupyouralley.Imean,amongthemanythingsthatare.”
Upmyalley?Howaboutmywholestreetsystem?Whichisnottosaythatpeoplewhoareintomusicoverallareintotheater.Beinganartistdoesn’tmeanyouhavetobeintoallformsofart.Andinfact,theonethingIdidn’tspendalotoftimeonwas,like,paintingsandstuff.I’mintotheaterbecausewhenIwaslittle,itwasthefirstpieceofmagicIevergottosee.MillieandLucytookmetoseeaproductionofCinderellaatthislittleplayhouse.IguessitwasinAnchorage,wherewewerelivingatthetime.
And,ofcourse,tobeclear,mymomsspentlikelet’ssayasolidthirtyminutesbeforeandafterCinderellatalkingtomeaboutwhythismodelofheteronormativity,thisideaofaprincessneedingtobesavedbyaprincewhosomehowlovesherevenifhe’snevermetheroronlymetheronceatonedance,isproblematic.
“Notthatwedon’twantyoutoenjoytheplay!Orpursueyourownconceptsofloveastheymakesensetoyou,”Lucyhadaddedasshetookmyhandandgaveourticketstotheolderwomanatthefrontofthetheater.
“ButifyourealizethatthewholeCinderellastoryisastoryandkindofabullshitstory,Idon’tthinkthathurts,”Milliehadconcluded.
Turnsout,Ilovedallofit.Ilovedthevelvetyseats,thefeelingofsittingwithallthepeoplekindofsquishedbutnot,themomentwhenthelightscamedownandthenthestagelitupwithawholeotherworld.
Alsomyparentshadnothingtoworryabout,sinceallIwasreallyintowasthesingingturtlethisparticularproductionofCinderellahadaddedforabitoflevity.Ididn’tliketheCinderellasongsandIthoughttheprincewasrudeandnotagooddancer.
Butstill.Ilovedthetheater.IbeggedtogobackthenextdayIloveditsomuch.
Imemorizedtheturtlesongandsangitduringbreakfastforamonth.
Theaterismagicandbrightlightsandpeoplebeingbigandboldandentertaining.
Trulywhat’snottolove?
“WhatkindofplaysdoesGreenvilleHighusuallydo?”Iaskedwithentirelyfauxchill.
“MostlywedoOurTown,”Berrysaid,flippingthroughhertextbook.
“OurTown’snotsobad.”
“It’slikeancienthistoryandeveryoneinthetownhasseenitlikeamilliontimes.”Berrysighed.“Butyeah,it’sokay.”
“Ithasalotofparts,”Isaid.
“Iguess.Mr.Davidsontookoverliketwoyearsago,andIknowhe’skindofdyingtomixitup.Butyouknow,Greenville.TherewasarumorhewasgoingtodoGreaseafewyearsagoandthesoccermomslosttheirminds.AndthenLyndesteppedinandtheydidSoundofMusicinstead.”
“DavidsonwantstodoGrease?!”
Iwasfreakingout.
“Allright.”Mr.Davidsonpivotedandgavehisvestoftheday,whichwasanavy-bluecorduroynumber,asharptug.“Let’sgetthispoetrystarted.”
OnlyIlaughed.
Onmywayoutofclass,Iveryverycasuallypausedtotakeacloserlookattheauditionlist.Therewerefournamesonthelistalready,attheverytop,GillyHendersonandSarahPye,withTanner’sandJohn’snameswritteninthesamepenandhandwritingunderneath.
Besideme,Berrypeekedatthelist,unsurprised.“Yeah.ItusedtobeMarkSpencer,who’sTanner’scousin,andhisgirlfriend,Katie,weretheleadseveryyear,buttheygraduatedlastyear.Theywerethetownactors.AndtheywerebothForevers.”
Iturnedandstartedspeed-walkingawayfromthetemptinglist.Berryfollowed.
“Soit’saquestionofwho’sgonnatakeupthetorch?”Iasked.
“I’mguessingSarah’sthinkingshe’sgettingKatie’sspot.Like,allhersocialmediaprofilephotosareheadshotsshegotatthemall.”
“Huh.”
“Unless.”Berrystoppedandgrabbedmyarm,suddenlyglowing.“Wouldyousignup?”
Afewfeetbehindus,GillyandSarahstoodinthedoorwaytoEnglishclass.Noticingme.Lookingatme.
Butpossibly,Ithought,becauseofthepowerofthewhiteshirt,theyturnedandwalkedaway.
School.Play.
Therestoftheday,allIcouldthinkofwasthatsign-upsheet.WhatplaywouldDavidsonpick?MosthighschoolteacherswerestillsolidlyintheShakespeareancolumnbutapersonwithhistasteinjumpersandathingforGreasecouldpossiblybedownwithMammaMia!
Agirlcoulddream.
MammaMia!didrequireaprettybigcastofsingers.WhataboutGuysandDolls?Mmmm.Alsoabigcast.Alsoyouneedsomesolidvoices.GuysandDollsisaclassichighschoolmusical,which,whilesexist,alsocontainswinnernumberslike“FugueforTinhorns”and“SitDown,You’reRockin’theBoat.”
“SitDown,You’reRockin’theBoat”wasvibingprettyhardwithme,forobviousreasons.WasIgoingtorocktheboatIhadliterallyjustcommittedtonotrockingwithaweekofnormalcy?Although,clearly,ifIwastakingmyplanofnormalcyforward,Iwasgoingtoneedmorethanonewhiteshirt.
Signingupfortheauditionswasnot“weird,”butgivenmyshortbutpotenthistorywithGreenvilleHighanditshigher-ups,itwasclearitcouldbe…aproblem.IfIwasgoingtogetuponthestage,itwasgoingtogetattention.Itwasgoingtobeathing.
Becausethat’stheater.Thenatureoftheateristhatitisathing
ButalreadyinmyheadIwasputtingtogetheramedleyofmusicalnumbers,maybesomethingfromWaitingforGuffmanandthenatheatricalmonologue?TonyKusher’suntouchablemasterpiece,AngelsinAmerica?IhadplentyoftimetoruminateonthisbecausethenextperiodwehadGymandweallhadtoplaysoccer.
BerrywasinthegoalienetbecauseBerrycanreallyplaysoccer.
Whenshewalksoutofthelockerroom,she’sawarrior.Likeusuallysheseemedreservedandthoughtful.Likegracefulbutnotlikeaerobic?Butonceshewasinhergymuniform,shegotthisstance,thislikevaguelyaggressiveposture.It’slikethere’s,like,killerrobotbeamscomingoutofhereyes.Beamsthatkillsoccerballs.
Notbecauseshedidn’tlooklikesomeonewhocould,butbecauseithadn’tcomeup,atfirstIwassurprisedtofindoutshewaskindofajockatheart.“Wait.Youlikesoccer?”
“Sure,”Berrynoted,adjustinghergreensweatband,onthefield,“Idestroyinsoccer.”
“Then…Wait.Thenwhydon’tyouplayontheteam?”Iasked.
Berryrolledhereyes.CoachHarrastweetedinourdirection,mostlyIthinkbecausethatwasheronlymodeofcommunicating.
TWEEEET!
“Doesthattweetmeanwestartplaying?”Iasked.“Orisitjustanangrywhistle?”
“Westartplaying,”Berrysaid,jogginginplace.“Andyoushouldbeintheplay.”
“IfIshouldbeintheplay,thenmaybeyoushouldbeonthesoccerteam,”Isaid,walkingtomyspotonthefield.
“Foreversonly,”Berrytoldmeasshebackward-jogged.
“Sotheplayisn’tForeversonly?”Icalledback.ItseemedlikeonlyForevershadsignedup.Sofar.
TWEEEET!
“It’sdifferent.”Berrytookherplaceingoal.
Isteppedouttowhatfeltlikeapeacefulandeasilyavoidedcornerofthesoccerfield.
IfIwasgoingtoauditionfortheschoolplay—notsayingIwould—IcouldalsoauditionwithanumberfromanewpieceI’dbeenworkingonsettoOliviaNewton-John’sdiscohit“Xanadu”(featuringELO).
OliviaNewton-John.Australianactorandsinger.Mostlypopularintheseventiesandeighties.Apolarizingfigure?Forsomenerds,yes.Imean,sheplayedateenagerinthehitmovieGrease(1978),Davidson’sfave,whenshewastwenty-nineyearsold.AndyetsomehowaudienceviewerscompletelyacceptedherasteenSandy(thecharactersheplayed).MaybebecauseshewasappearingalongsideactorStockardChanning,whoplayedthetroubledteen,Rizzo,andStockardwasthirty-threeyearsoldatthetime(andshewonaPeople’sChoiceforthatrole).
Technicallymovietriviaisnotmything,butitwasmyfriendDanny’sthing,andthiswasoneofhisfavoritemoviefacts.
Maybe,Ithought,ifyouplayyourpartwithheartandpanache,that’swhatmatters.
DidOliviaNewton-Johnworrywhatpeoplewouldthinkaboutherplayingateenager,ordidshejustdoherbesttoactlikeateenager?Although,let’ssayit,shedidn’tlooklikeateenager,butshecouldsing!
Icanalsosing,bytheway,somethingthatwouldcomeupinmyaudition,ifIauditioned.Oh,Ithought,Icoulddoamedleyof“SitDown,You’reRockin’theBoat”andtheGreasefinale,“You’retheOneThatIWant.”Bothgreatsongs.
But“You’retheOneThatIWant”isaduetbetweenTravoltaandNewton-John.
WhowouldIduetwith?
Afterthegame,whichwasashutoutforourteambecause,asBerrysaid,nothinggotpastherinthegoal,IwaswalkingbacktothelockerroomwhensuddenlyGillyjoggedupbesideme.Sheraninlongstridesthatwentwithherlegsthatseemedtobeaslongasmyentirebody.GiventhatmostofwhatIhadseenofGillyupuntilthatpointwasapersonwhowasleaningorkeepingherheaddownnexttoherhorriblefriends,itwasstrangetoseeher…alone.
Upclose,Gillywastallandthinwithabighead,likeaballoononastring.Shehadlargeblueeyesandlongblondhairthatwhippedaroundinthewindlikeitwasitsowncreature.Herarmswerealltannedexceptforasetofwhitestripesonherwrists.Shelookedlikesomeonewhospentalotoftimeinthesun
Shescoopedherhairupintoonehand.“Hey…Uh.Anne!”
AdmittedlyIwaskindofshockedsheknewmyname.AlsoGillyhaskindofanicevoice.Icouldn’tthinkwhoitremindedmeof.
“Yeah?”
“So.”Gillylookedaround.“Wereyougoingtosignupforauditions?Fortheplay?Earlier?”
“Oh.”Ifeltmyfaceflush.“Imean,Idon’tknow.Probablynot.”
“Iwasthinking”—Gilly’sgazewandereddownthefield—“it’sprobablysomethingyouknowabout?You’velivedinbiggercitiesandyouwouldhavesomethingtobringtoaGreenvilleproduction,right?Imean,Mr.Davidsonisgreat,butitcouldbeinterestingtohaveyour…perspective.”
IturnedtoseeifSarahorTannerwasanywherenear,feelingsuddenlyexposed.LikeIwasstandingontopofahill.
“Myperspective?”
Because,like,whatelsedidIwanttohearfromsomeonelikerightatthatmoment?(Whodoesn’twantsomeonetocareabouttheirperspective?)
“Yeah.”AsmallsmilecreptoverGilly’sface,revealingwhatlookedlikeachippedfronttooth.Shecoveredhermouthwithherhand.
Okay,like,hello,obviouslythiswasexactlywhatIwantedtohear.AndmaybeitwasnicetohearitfromGilly,whohadanicesmile,butlike,maybetheyknewIwouldthinkitwasnice?OrmaybeGillywasjustbeingnice?Imeanthiswasmyfirsttimetalkingtoher.Maybeshewaslikethemediator,andthiswasher,like,reachingout.Like,“Hey,Annejustworethisreallyuglyplainshirtforusforaweek,let’sgiveherabreak.”
Right?Thatwaspossible?Right?
Orwasitsopossiblethatitwasclearlynotpossible?
“Okay,well,I’llthinkaboutit.”
“Great.”Shehoppedforward.“Imean,Ithinkyoushouldsignup.Ifthatmeansanything.”
Herhairseemedtoleapintotheairassheranoffintotheschool.
IfoundBerryinthelockerroomlookingsweatyandtriumphant.“Hey!”
“HEY,”Icheered,offeringahighfive,whichsheaccepted.“Youhadashutdown!”
“Shutout,”Berryclarified.“YesIdid.”
“Maybeyoushouldtryoutforsoccer,”Iadded,speed-undressingand-dressing.“Imean,aren’tyouasgoodastheForeversorthelocalsorwhatever?”
Berrynodded,lookingsuddenlymorelikeherchillself.“WhenIwaslittle,Iplayedontheteam.Forlikeaminute.”
“And?”
“Anditwasn’tveryfun.”Berryshookherhairout(anactthatpracticallycamewithasoundeffect,shehadsomuchhair).“It’s,like,theywantyoutobegood,buttheydon’twantyoutobeasgoodastheirkids,orifyouare,theywantyoutoplaylikeexactlyhowtheywant,butnomatterwhat,you’renotthem.”
SuddenlyIcouldjustseelittleBerryinheradorablesocceruniform,like,sittingalonewithhersoccerballsandhergiantwaterbottle.
“Ifyoulose,theyfreakoutsobad.Like,someoneyelledatmymomonceinagrocerystorewhenwelostagameandIwasliketen?”
“So,then.IfallTHATsucked,whydoyouthinkIshoulddotheplay?Don’tpeoplecareabouttheaterhere?”
“Yesandno.Theplayisdifferent.It’snottheirlifeblood.Like,theycareifit’spornographyor,like,toogay,buttheydon’tliveanddiebyit.”Berrypulledonherboot.“Whichiswhyyoucouldstilldoitandbe,youknow,blending.Maybe?Alittle.Plus,mostly,Ithinkyou’dbereallygood.”
“Hmm.”Ipulledonmywhiteshirtwhichwas,let’ssay,kindofamess.HowdidIgetredpenonashirtwhenIdidn’tevenownaredpen?
Berrylookedupfromtyingherlaces.“WhatdidGillywant?”
“Gilly,”Isaid,throwingonmynotwhitebutveryplainsweatshirt,“alsothinksIshouldsignup.”
IpeekedmyfaceoutofmysweatshirtintimetocatchBerrypickingherjawupoffthefloor.
“Really?”
Ipulledmyheadoutofmyshirt.“What?”
“Oh,Ijust—”Berry’seyessearchedforsomethingtolookatthatwasn’tme.
“What?Sayit.”
“Imeanshe’sprettytightwithSarahandTannerandJohn.Youknow,she’saForever.”
Isankdowntothebench.“Right.”
Berrydidalittlewiggle.Shewasthinkingagain.
“Look,”shesaid.“Okay.Idon’ttrustGilly.Okay.But.Imean,ifYOUreallywanttodotheplay,youknow,youshould.AndMr.Davidsoniscool.And…yeah.Doit,like,becauseyouwantto.”
Mybrainfeltlikeaballpitataplayground.“Whydon’tyoutrustGilly?”
Berryshrugged.“It’salongstory.Butthatdoesn’tmeanyoushouldn’ttryoutfortheplay.”
Milliesayssometimeswhenthingsfeelliketoomuchyoushouldtryandfindtheonethingyou’resureof.
Thatonethingwasthis,ifIaudition,Iwouldbeamazing.
Like,intwoweeksatGreenville,thatwaswhatIknew;thatIcouldkickassinanaudition,evenifIdidn’tgetit.
“Canwegonow?”Iasked,standing.“Andsignup?”
“Totally.”Berrysprangup.Sheglancedatherwatch.“Ifwerun,wecanmakeittothesign-upsheetbeforeMath.”
Soweran,sprintingpastclassrooms,slowingbrieflypastLynde’sofficeandmymom’soffice,thenpickingupspeed.Berry’sbootsclompedonthetileasweroundedthecornertowhatIwasprettysurewasmydestiny.
Islidalittle,roundingthecornertothehallbyhomeroom,andspottedthesheet,whichwasstillthere,tapeduponthewallbyMr.Davidson’sclassroom.Berry,whoisfastlikethewind,pickedupspeedandgottothelistbeforeIdid.Shelookedtriumphantforahalfsecond,beforehereyecaughtthenamesonthelist,andthenherfacefell.Inwhatfeltlikeslowmotion,shesteppedtowardme,handsout,eyesbig,poolsofworry.
Shecaughtmyshoulderwithherhand.“Uh,changeofplan.”
“Hey!”Ilaughed.“What’swrong?”
Anervouslaughescapedherlips.“Um.Iforgot.IheardthisweirdrumorDavidsonwasthinkingofdoingsomemodernizedmusicalbasedonJerryMaguire,somaybethisisagoodyeartoskiptheater?”
“What’sJerryMaguire?”
Berrydroppedherhands,“YouknowhowmanyalbumsDonnaSummerrecorded,butyoudon’tknowthemovieJerryMaguire?”
“They’retotallydifferentthings.”
Berrywasshiftingherweightfromfoottofoot,bobbingherheadbackandforth,soIcouldn’tseethelist.
“Berry.Whatareyoudoing?We’regoingtomissMath!”Imovedmyheadtoseepasther.“Whatisgoingon?”
“Fine.”Berry’sfacecrumpled,andshesteppedoutfrominfrontofthelist.
SoIcouldsee.
Itwasfull.
Sarah,Gilly,andTanner’snameswerestillthere.Andafewotherkids.Andthentherestofthetwentyspotswere…
…othernames.
“‘DebbieMcDyke,’”Ireadaloud,“‘HarryHomo.LucySlut.’”
“Fuckthem.”Berryputherhandonmyarm.
“‘FerrisFaggot.MabelMustache.’”
Attheverybottomofthelist,inbrightredletters,someonehadjustwrittenBYEBYE,ANNE!GOHOME!Myhearthammeredinmychest.
“Didyouknowtheywoulddothis?”Itriedtokeepmyvoicefromcracking.
“WhenyousaidtheGillythingIwasworriedthatsomethingwasgoingon,butalsoIhateGillysothat’sbias,soIwasn’tsure?”Berrylookedpanicked.“Imean,Ithought,maybetheywouldgiveyoushitsomehowbut—”
“Needapen?”
Tanner,Gilly,Sarah,andJohnallstoodinthehallway.Sarahwaggledapinkmarkerinbetweenherthumbandforefinger.ShemusthavebustedoutofGymclass.Shewasstillinheruniform.
HadtheyfilledoutthesheetbeforeGym?DidtheygetGillytotalktometostall?
“Dang.Lookslikemaybethatsign-upsheetisfull.”Tannercranedhisheadtosee,anexaggeratedfrowntwistingthebottomofhisface.
“Canwejustgo?”Gillywhispered.
Sarahignoredher.“Toobad.Imean,IheardMr.DavidsonwasthinkingofdoingMissSaigon.Whichlike.Soperfect,right?Imean,sincewehaveanactualSaigonnow.”
“Youknowit,Anne?”Tannerasked,nonchalant.“MissssSaigon?”
“I’mJapanese,”Igrowled.“SaigonisVietnamese.”
“Samesame?”Tannerchimed.
ThenextthingIknewIwasclawingthelistoffthewall,stormingovertothem,shouting.“FUCKYOUANDYOURFUCKINGSCHOOL!”ItossedthecrumpledpaperandithitGillyintheface.
Shebattedthepaperaway,clearlystunned.“Screwyou,Carrots,”shesnapped.
“Carrots?”Isneered,steppingupclose.“That’swhatyougot?Carrots?”
Gillylookedstunned.Maybeevenupset?ButIdidn’tcare.Isprintedaway,withBerryonmyheels.
“KUNGFUPANDA!”Sarahyelledafterme.“JACKIECHAN!”
“That’sChinese,”IyelledbackasIfleddownthehall,thelockersblurringintoastreakofforestgreen.
Iheardadooropenbehindmeandabellow,“WHAT’SGOINGON?”
BythenIwasboundingdownthestairstwoatatime.IspentMathinthebathroomwithBerry,whocreptinaftermeandperchedonthefloorafewfeetawayfromwhereIsat,sprawledunderthesink.Whatbettermusicalaccompanimentforfeelinglikecrapthantheleakysoundofaschoolbathroomsinkdripping?
Berryspentthefirstseveralminutesofoursilencelookingatme,thenlookingaway.Ispentthefirstseveralminutesofoursilencethinkingabouthowignorantracismis.MissSaigon?LikewhathighschoolkidevenknowsMissSaigon?That’s,like,ninetiesracism.Butthat’sthethingwithracism.It’ssoretro,yetsonow.Soentirelyuninformedanduneducatedandyetitfeelslikeitsscientificallydesignedtoturnyouintonothing.
FinallyBerrygotupontoherknees.“Disco?”
“Now?Likedancing?”Igrumbled.“Notreallyinthemood.”
“Ijustthoughtifweplayedsomething.”Berrydrummedherfingersonherknees.Shehadpinkpaintonherfingertips.“Youknowitmakesyoufeelbetter.Music.”
Ipulledmyphoneoutofmypocket.Pressedthepowerbutton.HelditupforBerrytosee.“Outofjuice.”
Berrypulledherphoneoutofherpocket.Frowned.“Yeah,metoo.”
“So,”Isaid,thenwentbacktofeelingbothnothingandsooverwhelminglysadImightmelt.
“Okay.”
Ilookedover.Berryhadclosedhereyes.AsIstared,sheopenedherlipsand,afteradeepbreath,letoutthetiniestbutheart-fullesttune….
ABBA.
ABBAinthehighschoolbathroom.
“SuperTrouper.”
Berryopenedoneeye,traineditonmeasshestartedinonthechorus.Sheevensangthepianoparts.
Isniffed.
Wegotupofftheflooranddancedaroundthebathroomwhilewesang.Ididalittlejigandafewspins.Berrydidthisveryclassicstep-to-the-left,step-to-the-rightdancethatwasjustadorable.Forjustafewminutestheworldwassherbetstainedandhopeful,anditwasjustmeandBerryandthefeelingmusicgivesyouwhenitfillsyourlungs.
Joy.
“Ithinkyouwereright,”Berrysaid,when,exhaustedandoutofbreath,Iploppedbackdownonthefloor.
“Aboutwhatspecifically?”
“Aboutwhyyoushouldaudition,”Berrysaid,givingaverysmallwiggle.
“Sotheyhaveanotherreasontocomeforme?”
“Maybetheydon’tneedanotherreason,maybethere’snothingyoucandoaboutthemcomingforyouandithasnothingtodowithanythingyou’reactuallydoing.”Berrysighed.“Imean,inmyexperience,Icankeepitdownbutthey’llalwayshavesomethingtosay.Butmaybeyouhavesomethingtosay,too.”
“Imean,Idefinitelyalwayshavesomethingtosay.Likesomuch.Tosay.”
Berrygrabbedherstuff.“PlusIthinkweshouldgotothenextclasssotheydon’ttellyourmomyou’reskippingschooltosingABBAsongs.”
“Goodcall.”
Afterschool,IwatchedJerryMaguire,eventhoughBerrytoldmelaterthatitreallyisaterriblemovieandshepickeditbecauseitwasthefirsthorriblebasisforamusicalthatshecouldthinkof.BecauseeverymoviewithTomCruisewouldmakeaterriblemusical.
IactuallythinkyoucouldmakeMission:Impossibleintoamusicalifyouwantedto.
SpeakingofMission:Impossible,wasitworsethatIbelievedGillywhenshepulledahigh-school-prank-101onmeonthesoccerfield,orthatGillythoughtIwasapersonwhobothdeservedthatandwouldfallforit?
PlusshecalledmeCarrots?
Maybeitwasn’tevenGilly’sidea.Shewaskindofan…enigma.Iatethreebowlsofpopcorntryingtodecidewhichwasworse,themunderestimatingme,ornotcaringaboutme.Anddecidedbothoptionssuckedequally.
ThatnightLucycamehomefordinnerlookinglikeIfelt:likeadishragthatneedstobewashed,butpeoplekeepusingitbecauseit’sthere.
“Howwastoday?”sheasked.“Littlebetter?”
“Sure,”Isaid,becauseitwasweirdlytrue.
Milliecarriedthepotroastovertothetableandtookamomenttolookovermyshirt.“Youwerenotbuilttowearwhite,kid,”shesaid,handingmeanapkin.
“Don’tworry,itwon’thappenagain,”Isaid.“MeandthisT-shirtarebreakingup.”
“Washitbeforeyougiveitback.”
ThatnightIjustcarriedMontyonherwalk,depositingherbythebushessheseemedinclinedtodoherbusinesson.Halfwayhomeitstartedtorain.LikesomeoneinGreenvillesawhowfarawayMontyandIwerefromhomeandtheydecidedtojustturnonthetap.
Anditseemedafittingendtotheday.
Imean,yes,IknewIcouldsingmybuttoffandkickassattheaudition,andmaybeGreenvillesuspectedthisandthatwaswhytheywereallbeingjerks.Butitsuckedtohavetogotoschoolwithpeoplewhowerebeingjerksinordertotakethestageandtohavetoprovetothemthattheywereallwrongjerks.
“It’sarockandahardplace,Monty,”Imoaned.
MontyhowledinagreementandIcarriedherwetdogbodyhome.EIGHT
ThenextdayIwokeupandinsteadofavoiceIhadasqueak,whichItookasareasonableresponsetothedaybefore,whichclearlywassobaditactuallymademesick.
OrmaybeitwaswalkingintherainaftersingingABBAinthebathroom.
Letmejustsay,theproblemwithbeingadramaticpersonpronetoboutsof…dramatics,isthatitissometimeshardtoindicatetoyouraudiencewhenthewhistlecomingoutofyourthroatissymbolicandwhenit’syouactuallysick.
Also,bothLucyandMillienevergetsick.Ever.Ihavenoideawhybutit’ssortofhelpfulbecausetheyacceptmanythingsassymptomsofacold,likeitchyfingers,thatIthinkmosthabitualcoldgetterswouldnotbuy.
Thistime,though,Iwasactuallysick.
Milliesatonmybedtouchingmyforeheadfortenminutesandfinally,givingmeabitofahairyeyeball,toldmesheneededtogotogetsomefilmdevelopedontheothersideoftownthatdaysoIwouldbehomealone.
Igaveherathumbs-up.
“Ifyou’refeelinguptoit,”Milliesaid,makingherwayoutofmyroomthroughaseriesof,I’mgoingtosay,well-organizedpilesofstuff,“maybeyoucouldcleanyourroomandfinishunpacking.”
Ipulledmycoversovermyhead.
“Ifyoufeeluptoit.”
Ididnotfeeluptoit.
Ispentthedaywatchingvideosofpeoplediscodancingintheseventies,includingseveralABBAvideos.Let’ssayit:TVwasjustwaymoreinterestingintheseventies.Like,weneedmoreshowsthatarejustfordancingwherepeoplearen’tcompetingforamilliondollars.
Afterlunch,IwatchedsomevideosofpeopledancingataclubcalledStudio54,whichwaskindofafamousdiscoclubintheseventies,wherefamoussingersandactorsanddancersandevensomereallygood-lookingregularpeopleusedtogotodanceanddodrugs.EveryvideoofStudio54lookscrowded.It’sallflashinglightsandpeoplewithlongfluffyhairbouncingandtwirling.Ialwaysimagineithotandsticky,smellinglikelipstickandperfumeandmeltingiceinpeople’sdrinks.Itwasthekindofplacewherepeoplecouldbethemselves,butitwasalsoaplace,Millieremindedmeonce,wheretherewouldbeahugelineofpeopleatthedoorwaitingtogetin.
“Andpartofwhatmadethatplacesofamouswashowfewpeoplecouldgetin,”Milliesaid.
Evencooldiscoplacesfromtheseventiesweremeanandexcluding(also,drugs).
IwasthinkingaboutthisandabouthowI’dhavetofindthepotsandpansmymomstillhadn’tunpackedifIwantedtomakesoup,thefoodofthesick,whenIgotatextfromBerry.
BERRY
Heyyouweren’tinschool(whichuprobknow)
BERRY
BERRY
Anne
BERRY
ofGreenville?
ANNE
ANNE
BERRY
Areyoucontagious?
Itestedmyvoice.Ialreadyhadmoreofawhisper.
ANNE
Probablynot.
BERRY
Soyou’renotdoinganythingandyou’renotcontagious?
ANNE
Yesandyes.
BERRY
Comedownstairs,then.
Itshouldn’thavesurprisedmethatBerryknewwhereIlivedwhenevenIdidn’tknowmyaddressbyheartyet,butshedid,anditdid.Ilookedoutthewindowandthereshewas,standingoutsidemydoor,thesunsettingbehindherplumeofgreenhair.Montybarkedhertwobarksindicatingthatapersonshedidnotknowwasnearthehouse.Thenshelaybackdowninthefronthallandwhined.
“Whattheheck?”Ipushedopenthedoor.
“Areyouwearingfootiepajamas?”Berrypulledapairofpaint-splatteredsunglassesdownoffherface.
“Yes,”Isaid,kickingupmyleftfoot.“Itusedtohaveaunicornheadhood,butMontycheweditoff.”IstoodbacksoBerrycouldseeMontysittingandlookingunamused.“Mydog.”
“Well,that’ssomethingIdidn’tknow!”Berrylookedaroundmyshoulder.“Momshome?”
Ishookmyhead.
“So,youcanleave?”Berryasked.“Imean,thehouse?”
“Iguess.”Itextedmymomsandshovedmyphoneinmypocket,whichontheonesiewasactuallyapouch.“DoIneedtochange?”
“Peoplearoundhereareprettycoolwithpeoplewearingtheirpajamasoutside.”
“I’veheardthat.”Ilockedthedoor.“Wherearewegoingandhowarewegettingthere?”
Berrysteppedback,holdingherhandsoutlikeagameshowassistanttoshowcaseagiant,boatlike,ancientredstationwagon.“Anne,meetMato.Mato,meetAnne.”
“Mato?”
“Itwasmyparents’carwhenIwaslittle,”Berrysaid,skippingdownthefrontwalktothecarandopeningthepassengerdoor,whichseemedtopoplikeadislocatedshoulder.Shesteppedasidewithalittleflipofherhand.“Ithoughtitlookedlikeatomato.”
“Imean,itdoes!”
Inside,Matowasdoor-to-doorredvelvet,scratchyandplastic.Herseatbeltswerelikethickfloppyribbonsandstaineddarkinvariousplaces.Herdashboardwassunbleachedtoasalmonpinkinparts.AsIslidontotheseat,theheatroseupintomybuttlikefire.
“Yeah,she’sbeenbakingallday,”Berrysaid.“Soshe’salittletoasty.”
Matosmelledlikecinnamon,probablybecausesomeonehadtiedabunchofcinnamonstickstoherrearwindow.
“She’sbeautiful.”Iranmyfingeralongthedashboard.“Hi,Mato!”
Berryslidintoherseatandturnedthekey.Matopurred.“Matorules.She’smyescapepod.”
Theairhadbeenhotearlierintheday,whenI’dpokedmyheadouttoletMontygoforapee.Butnowtheskywaspurpleandorange,andtheairwassoftandcool,likeaglassofcoldtapwater.IrolleddownthewindowandletmyfingersdanceonthebreezeasBerrycoastedfartherandfartherawayfromtown,likewewereashipheadingoutintotheocean.
“Mydadinstalledtheshocks,”Berrysaid,“sothey’realittle…loosey.”
Ileanedmyheadbackontothebakedpotatothatwastheheadrestandfeltmybodyrelaxforthefirsttimeindays.“Thisisamazing.”
Afewmilesawayfromthehouse,Berryturnedoffthemainroad,towardwhatIthoughtwastheparkinglotofaburgerjoint.Which,honestly,Iwouldhavebeenfinewith.LikeifsomeoneIknewwassad,Icouldseetakingthemtoaburgerjoint.Butthenshetookanotherleftintowhatlookedlikeanalleyway,pastausedcarplace,toasmallyardfencedinbygreenchainlink.Andshepulledthecartoastop.
“TA-DA!”Shepoppedoutofthecarwithsignificantbounce.
“Afence?”
Berryreachedintoaveilofdriedvinesandbushesuntilshefoundwhatseemedtobeaprettysmallopening.Afterafewminutesofshovingandpulling,shepartedthewallofweedstorevealasmallholeinthefence.“Followme.”
IsteppedoutofthecarandfollowedBerrythroughacurtainofgreen.
“MyparentsusedtobringmeherewhenIwasakid,”Berryexplained,steppingontothefrayedAstroturf.“ThenIguessitclosed.ButIstillloveit.”
Itwasadilapidatedbutstillincrediblycoolminiputtcourse.Reallyafineexampleofthetwistedlogicofmostfunparksbuiltbeforetheaughts:amixofpossibly“realistic”and“fantastical,”concretecreaturesallpaintedinchippedneonsandbrighthues.Atwo-headeddragonloomedoverthefirsthole.Atimidgiraffestoodstunnedoverthethirdhole.Afuriouslionlookedlikeitwaschokingonthefifthhole,itsleftpawcrackedtoshowthemetalrodsholdingthewholecircustogether.
“It’sweirdthatit’skindofcute,”Isaid.
Isteppedtowardabearandsuddenlysomethingclicked.Thebear’sfurwasakaleidoscopeofcolors,neonbluesandorangesIrecognized—fromBerry’shands.
“You’repaintingthem!”
“Oh.”PinkstreaksbloomedonBerry’scheeks.“Imean,whenI’mstressed,Igivethemalittletouch-up.”
Ispunaround,takingitallin—thegiraffe’spsychedelic-patternedpolkadots,thepanda’sgreenspectacles.“It’samazing.”Isighed.
“Thanks.”Berryheldoutarustedputterinonehandandachewed-up-lookingballintheother.“Madam.”
“Thanks,”Isaid,myvoicehoarse.
Berrytwirledherputterasshewalkeduptothefirstholeanddroppedherballbyherfeet.“Batonlessons,”shesaid,tossingtheputterupandcatchingitwithonehand.
“Nokidding.Becauseyouwantedto,like,jointhemarchingband?”
“I’minthemarchingband.”Berrygrinned.
“Wait.Iknewyouwereinthestageband,butyoualsomarch?Whileplayingthetuba?HowdidInotknowthis?!”
“Imean,yeah,youdon’tknowallmytalentsyet.Iplaythefluteandthesax,andIcanspinabatonlikenoone’sbusiness.”
“That’slegitimatelyamazing.”ImadeamentalnotetoaskBerrymorequestionsaboutherself.
Berrytossedtheputterupintotheairand,afterawobble,snatcheditjustbeforeitnailedthesleepingconcreteleopard.
Iclapped.“Maybeyoushouldauditionfortheplay.”
“Nah.”Berrynudgedherballwithhertoe.
Itookadeepbreath.Thesmellofburgersfloatedthroughtheair,mixedwithwhatwasclearlyfreshpaint.Berrychippedtheballanditbouncedalongtheedgeofthegreen,zigzaggingalongtheroughterrain.“IwasjustthinkingaboutwhyGreenvillelikespeopleinpajamas,”shesaid.
“Why?”Idroppedmyball.
“It’slikewhenyou’realittlekid,”Berrysaid.“Andyougotopartiesandstuff,likegoingtotheparktowatchthefireworkswithyourpj’sandyoursleepingbags.It’slike…thisideathatit’syourhome.MaybeGreenvillelikesthat,thatfeelingofhome.”
“So,it’snostalgia?”Iwondered.
“Iguess.”Berryreachedherputterbehindhertoscratchherback.“Maybeit’sjustanexcusenottogetdressedup.”
“Thisplaceisnice,”Isaid,pattingthegiraffeandhopingthepaintwasn’twet.
“ThisismyfavoriteplaceinGreenville,”Berrysaid,“becausewhenIwasakiditwastheonlyplaceinGreenvillethatdidn’tseemboring.Andeventhoughnooneelsewantstopsychedelicminiputt,Istilldo.”
“I’mgladyou’rekeepingitsprucedup.”
Berrylookedaround.“Itrelaxesme.There’saslideandstuffoverthere,too.WhichI’lleventuallydoingreen.”
“Well,I’malwaysdowntodoapsychedelicpaintjob,”Isaid,kickingmyballintothehole.“Youhavemynumber.”
ItwaslikealittleGardenofEdeninGreenville.Or…no.Iguessthatdoesn’tworkbecauseyougetcastoutoftheGardenofEden,right?Itwasasecretplace,aworldthatBerrymadeinsideofGreenvillethatwasjustherworld.
Maybeshejustwantedmetoknowitwaspossible.
“Youhaveeveryrighttohatethistown.”BerryleanedagainsttheTechnicolorpandastatuewearingawizardhat.“ButI’mreallygladyou’rehere,AnneShirley.”
IwishedIcouldsaythesame.ButatleastIwashappyrightatthatmoment,inthatindividualspotinGreenville,whichwassomething.Thesunfinallyset.Thelightsfromsomebuildinginthedistanceflashedonandcastshadowsallaroundtheminiputt.
Onthetenthhole,Berryfinallyconfessed.“Okay,so,fulldisclosure.And,like,don’tbemad.ButIfeellikewe’regoingtobefriends,soI,like,havetobehonest.”
Mystomachdropped.“What?”
“Don’tbemad.”
“Nopromises.”
“Like,Iknowalotaboutitbut”—Berrypulledhershouldersup—“Iactuallyhatedisco.”
“YOUWHAT?”
“ImeanI’mnotalldiscosucks,obviously.”Berryshrugged.“But,like,Ithinkthere’sbettermusic.AndifyouevermeetmydadhewilltellyouImakefunofhisdiscorecords.SoIfeltlikeIshouldjustbehonestwithyou.Soyoudon’tthinkI’mabigdiscoliar.”
“Discoisthebest!”
Berrysighed.“It’srepetitiveandthelyricsareterrible.”
Imock-faintedtothegreenturf.“Thisisablow,Berry,I’mgonnabehonest,it’sarealblow.Likeontodayofalldays.Tohitmewiththis.Kindofuncool.”
Berrysnorted.
Isatup.“Whatdoyoulike?”
“Punk.”Berrycountedoffonherfingers.“Um.Country.Ilikesomeoldninetiesrock?”
Ishookmyheadinexaggerateddespair.“Sayitisn’tso.”
Berrysteppedupontothebackofaconcreteponywithnoearsthatlookedlikeadragon.“Canwestillbefriends?”
Ifoldedmyarmsovermychest.“Thinking.”Icouldn’tholdit.Iletoutanembarrassingsnortoflaughter.Berrygavemybuttalightnudgewiththebootofhertoe.
“Oh,COMEON!”
“Yes!Fine!Geez!”Ithrewmyarmsout.“Berry!Ofcoursewecanbefriends.You’relike…thebest!”
Berry’scheeksturnedcherryred.“Okay,well,good.”
Shepulledherphoneoutofherpocket.“So,giventhatthisisyournightoutwiththeconcreteanimals,I’llspotyouonediscotrackforadecenttrackandwe’llgobackandforth,okay?”
“Okay,inallseriousness,whatarelikeyourfaves?”IaskedasIpulledmyselfupoffthegroundusingtheheadofapurpleturtle.
“IggyPop?”Berryflippedthroughherphone.“Lizzo.Um.TheClash?B-52s?”
“B-52siskindofdisco.”
“Ish?”
“Okay.”Istoodup,walkedovertoherphone.“Howaboutyoudrovesoyougetfirstpick.”
BerrypickedtheIggyPopclassic“LustforLife,”whichisactuallyaverygoodsong.
ThatnightIlearnedafewofBerry’sfavoritethings.Inadditiontominiputt,Berry’sfavoritesuperheroisIronmanandherfavoritesurrealistpainterisMagritte,althoughasofrecentlyshe’dswitchedtoaloveoffolkart.Berrylikedtheideathatitwaspossibleforapersontoovercomesomethingreallyhorribleandsavetheday.Andtheideathatapersoncouldseetheworldandthenproduceanartisticrenderingofthatworldthatwastotallyunexpected.Wetalkedaboutthethingsthatwelikedanddidn’tlike,andwedancedaroundthebearstatueandthegiraffeandtheunicornwiththetailthathadfallenoff.
Andthemorewetalked,themoreIkindoflikedbeinginGreenville.
Rightbeforeshedroppedmeoff,Berrysnappedherfingers.“Right!Iforgottotellyou,GreenvilleHigh101,tomorrow’slastFridayofthemonth.”
“WhichIknew,”Isaid.“That’snotjustGreenvilleBTW,thewholemonthanddaysthing.Theyhaveitallovertheworld.”
Berryshookherhead.“Mmm.LastFridayinGreenvilleisn’tyouraverageFriday.”
“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“SchoolSpiritDay,”Berrysaid,grimly.“Whateveryoudo,weargreen.”NINE
Okay,soIworegreen.
ButImean,Ireallyworegreen.Like,Iworegreenlikeitwasnobody’sbusiness:mysequinedemerald-greencheerleaderoutfitthatusedtobeDanny’swithamatchingmint-greenbomberjacketandlime-green/neon-green-stripedtights.InspiredbyBerry’sgiraffe,Ipainted(yes,“ruining”)mywhitecowboybootsfromavintageplaceinArizonawithgreenpolkadots.
EvenI,lookinginthemirror,waslike,“Okay,Anne.Wow.”
WhenIgotdownstairs,Lucywassittinginthekitchenwaitingforthecoffee,talkinginlow,serioustoneswithMillie,whoglancedupandgavemealookofamusement.
“Youlooklikealeprechaun…who’sfeelingbetter.”
“Iam.It’sSpiritDay,”Isaid,pointingatLucy’spalepinksuit.“Hey,lastFriday,youhavetoweargreen!”
Lucylookeddownatheroutfit.“Oh,shoot,”shegasped,andboltedupstairs.
“Well.”Millie,whodidnothavetoweargreenandwasinsteadstickingwithherbluefuzzyrobeandpj’s,tookalongsipofhercoffee.“Sowe’rereadyforroundtwo,choosinganewtacticIsee.”
“It’snotexactlyatactic,”Isaid,“althoughIamcommittingmyselftononconfrontationandassimilationwithintheboundsoffashionchoicesIenjoy.”
“Sotheyweargreen,youweargreen.Butinayouway.”Millietookanotherlongsip.“Soundslikeaplan.”
“Oratactic,dependingonwhoyouask.”
LucybolteddownthestairsinwhatseemedlikeahastilyassembledensembleofmismatchedgreensandranoutthedoorbeforeIhadtimetocomment,notthatIwould.
“Doyouthinkitwillwork?”Iasked,grabbingabananaandmyskates.
“Ithinkwhateverwillworkwillworkbecauseofyouandnotbecauseofthem,”Milliesaid.
“Ifeellikethat’sanon-answer,”Inoted,pointingmybananaatMillie.“AclassicMillieMomnon-answer.”
Milliehelduphercoffee.“Havefunatschool!”
Ontheaverageday,GreenvilleHigh,tome,wasasomewhatstressfulplacefullofloudkidswhoIfoundsomewhatalienandintimidating.
ThatFriday,akaSpiritDay,itwaslikethatwiththevolumeturneduptoeleven.
ThehallswereaseaofbrightgreenwithvariouslockerscoveredingreencardsthatsaidstufflikeDESTROY!andCHAMPIONS
Likeputitthisway:Myoutfitwasnotreallyallthatoutofline.
ItwaslikeGreenvillewasabouttosendabandofintrepidgreenadventurersintospaceorsomething.
“Aretheyagoodteam?”IaskedBerryatlunchthatday.“Thisteamwe’respiritingtoday?”
Berryloweredhervoice.“They’reokay.Mostlytheywinbecausetheotherteamsinthedistrictaren’tsohot.Thentheygetslammedwhentheygotostate.”
“Bummer.SoistodaySpiritDayjustbecauseit’slastFridayoristhereagame?”
“Um.Imean,today,yesthereisagame.NoteverySpiritDayisagame.And,um,itwouldprobablybeagoodthingtomakeanappearance,thenwecangoforburgersorsomethingafter.”
Itdidseemlikemegoingtothegamewouldnotmeanopenseasononme.Tannerhadspentthedaycontinuingtoapparentlynotcareaboutme.AfterEnglishhesailedrightpastmeintoaseaofhighfivesfromeveryone,includingMr.Davidson,whohigh-fivedalltheplayersontheirwayout.
Andthen,asIwasthelastpersonoutoftheclassroom,Mr.Davidsoncomplimentedmyoutfit.“Whatalovelydaiquirigreen.Thatjacket!”
“Thanks!Ilikeyourjersey.”Isquinted.“IsthataGreenvilleDragonsjersey?”
Mr.Davidsonhelduphisarms.Hewasactuallywearingtheancientsoccerjerseyoveraslightlyblousyblouse,which,let’ssayit,ishowtheyshouldbeworn.“Vintage.”Hewinked.“Frombackinmypowerforwarddays.Enjoythegame!”
Bytheendofthelastclass,thehallwayswerequakingwithstudentscheeringandhammeringonthelockersinana-rhythmicbutcompellingbeatthatexplodedoutintothequadasstudentsandteachersandparentspiledintothebleachers.LucyandMilliewereseatedinthecentersquare,sotospeak.MilliewaswearingagreensweaterandhadloopedagreensparklycollararoundMonty’sneck.BerryandIcreptintothestandsbythegoalienet,whichwasBerry’sfavoritespot.
“John’sashitgoalie,”Berrysaid,poppingopenabagofpretzels,“buthe’sgettingbetter.”
AsTannerandtheteamranontothefield,thecrowdstoodupandcheered.Tannerranbackwardandwavedatthestands,doingafewextraleaps.Itwasweirdtoseetheguywhoworehissoccerjerseyeverydayfinallyonthefield,actuallyplayingsoccer.
Itwaslikeallthepieceswereinplace.Hegrinnedandraisedhisarmsintheair,holdinguptwofingers,like…peacesigns?
Okay.
Suddenlytherewasasharpbarkfromthecrowd,whichIlegitimatelythoughtwasMonty.
“TANNER!”
BerryandIlookedoveratthesametimetoseeTanner’sfather—whoIrecognizedfromPizzaFightDay—pointingameatyfingeratTanneronthefield.Tanner’sdadlookedlikeTanner,butwithmoreconcreteinhisjaw.Heworeabutton-downshirtandjeans,bothofwhichseemedtobarelycontainthemanwearingthem.Hishandswerelikesteaks.
“TANNER!GETYOURHEADINTHEGAME!”
“Yikes.”IlookedatBerry.
“Seeeriousbusiness.”Berrypoppedapretzelinhermouthandchewed.
I’msurethere’stwolevelstoenjoysportson.Oneofthemisunderstandingwhypeoplearedoingwhatthey’redoing.Theotherisjustwatchingwhowinswithoutunderstandingwhy.ItseemedliketheDragonswerefast.Tannerwasveryfast,andhecouldmovearoundpeoplewithakindofsharpspeedthatmademethinkhepracticedathomewithsomesortofsystemwithcones.
Hescoredthreegoalsinthefirst…quarter.Thing.
Theotherteamscoredtwo.
AnytimeTannerdidanything,hisdadgotupandstartedyellingaboutwhatTannerhadjustdone.Whichseemedtocutthroughthecheerslike…ahammer.Iguesshammersdon’treallycut,butyougetit.Itwaslikesomeoneslammingonthedoor.OnlyitwasjustforTanner.Icouldseehiseyesdartinguptothestands.
Iwillsay,whileitlookedlikemostofthecrowdwerehavingfun,afterafewminutesofyelling,itdidn’tlooklikeTannerwashavingany.
Atsomepointtheteamstookabreak,oritwashalftimeorsomething.Berrywentlookingformoresnacks,andparentsswarmedmymomssothatallIcouldseewasMonty’stailwaggingfrominsidethecrowd.
Ilookedoutovertheseaofgreen.Thewholethingfeltweirdlybuoyingbutalsoconnecting.Likeeveryoneonthatsideofthestandswasfeelingthesamething,insuchabigway?Andthensuddenlythesunonmyshouldersdisappeared,andIlookedupanditwasthetallmeattreethatwasTannerSpencer’sfather.
Hishandstwitchedbyhisside,flippingthegiantgoldwatchonhiswristaroundhiswrist.
“YoumustbeAnne,”hesaidinathickvoice.
“Yes.Hello.”Ishieldedmyeyes.ThesuncrestedfrombehindMr.Spencer’sgiantEasterIslandstatuehead.
“VicePrincipalShirley’sdaughter,”hesaid,suckingonatooth,“thatright?Youtakethatname?AnneShirley?Sinceyougottwomoms?Isthathowyoudothat?Justpickaname?”
“IgobyShirley,sir,”Isaid.
Theaironmyfacefeltprickly.Hot.Thesequinsonmycheerleaderoutfitstuckintomythighs.DidhereallyjustaskmeifIgottopickaname?
“Right,right.AnneShirley.”Hethumbedhisnose.“I’mMichaelSpencer.Tanner’sfather.”
HetiltedhisheadtowardthefieldasifthefieldwereTanner.
“Right.”Themanwhomayormaynothavecalledme“disgusting”outsidemymom’soffice.
“Seemslikeyou’restilladjustingtothingsaroundhere.Causingalittletrouble.”
Mystomachsqueezed.“Yes,Imean.No,”Isaid,“I,uh,didandIapologizedtoTanner,forthepizzafight.Iamsorry.”Thiswasnoteasytosay.ButIsaidit.
“Iheardthat.Heardthat.”Mr.Spencerstoodstillasastatue.“Well,weareofcoursehappytowelcomeyouandyourmothertoourcommunity.Hopefullyyou’lllearnalittlerespectforit.Forthecommunity.”
Berryjumpeddownintotheseatnexttome,“Mr.Spencer.”Shepushedabagofpopcornundermynose.“Popcorn?”
“Itwasnicemeetingyou,”IsaidtoTanner’sfather,holdingoutmyhand.“Thankyoufor,uh,introducingyourself.”
Heraisedaneyebrowbeforeheshookmyhand,whichdisappearedintohislikeanuggetintoahamburgerbun.Icouldswearmyhandwasalittlesmallerwhenheletgo.Withthat,MichaelSpencerdisappearedintotheswayingseaofgreenasthegamestartedupagain.
“Thanks,”IwhisperedtoBerry,grabbingahandfulofpopcorn.
IspottedMillieinthedistance,waving,andwavedbackwithabigsmile.Isqueezedthepopcorninmyhanduntilthekernelsbitintotheinsidesofmyfingers.
Thegamehadstartedagain.Playersscattered.
“Hey,”Berrysaid.“Youjustgoingtoholdontothatpopcorn?”
“Ohyeah.”Ilookeddownatmyhand,greasyandfullofwiltedkernels.Islidmypalmdownmysideandbrushedthemoffontheseat.
“WanttogetinMatoandride?”Berryasked.
Suddenlytherewasagasp.Sometallkidontheotherteam,thePrincevilleKings,kickedtheballupthefield,movingataclip.
“NO!”someonebelowusscreamed.
“STOPHIM!”someoneelsebellowed.
Tannersprintedafterhim,butanotherplayerfromPrincevilleranaheadandcutinfrontofTanner.Tannertriedtosneakaroundhimandtripped,pirouettingtotheground.
Mr.Spencerstoodupandstartedscreamingatthecoach,“YOUGONNAJUSTSITTHERE?GODDAMMIT!”
Howcouldanyonedoanything?ThekidfromtheotherteamscootedrightpastJohnandscoredagoal.
“Crap,”Berrymumbled.
Tannerhoppedupunderarainofhorrifiedhollersfromthestandsandthesoundofhisdadyellingathimabouthisfeet.
“Whatyagot,sixleftfeet,son?Whatiswrongwithyou?!”
Thegameendedinatie.WhichIguessfortheDragonswaslikealoss?Howdoesthatevenwork?Everythingwentfromgrassswayinginthestiffbreezeofvictorytograssthathadbeentrampledandsquishedbyathousandheavyfeet.
“Heythere.”MilliewalkedovertousattheendofthegamewithMontyintow.“Readytogo?”
“Where’sMom?”
“She’stalkingtoafewparents,”Milliesaid.“She’llprobablybeawhile.Who’sthis?”
“Thisismyfriend,theoneandonlyBerry.”IheldmyhandoutnotunlikethewayBerryheldherhandsoutwhensheintroducedMato.“Berryisawesome.Andanartist.”
“Clearly.”Milliesmiled.“Youneedaride,Berry?”
Berryshookherhead.“Mymomisaroundheresomewhere.”
Lucyhadhercar,soIrodewithMillieandMonty,who,thewholewayhome,pantedlikeshewasfinishingupamarathon.
“Didsheeatsomethingweird?”Iasked.
“Mmmm.”Milliefrowned.“NothingIgaveher…”
Thatnightabunchofthingshappened,noneofwhichwerefun.
Firstofallletmesay,Montyisoneofthosedogsyouthinkischillandthenshegoesanddoessomethingcrackedlikeeatallyourshoes.She’samystery.She’saquagmire.She’sagoldenretriever.Andeveryonelovesagoldenretriever.Myguessisthatmaybetherewereafewparentswhocametosayhelloandtheyslippedheralittlehotdogbutt.
Ortwo,orthree.Orten.
Soshetrottedintothehousewhenwegothome,satdownontherug,relaxedandcontent,andthenshebarfedupastreamofvomitthatsettledintothesizeofasmallwadingpool.JustasLucywalkedintothedoor.
Sowedidn’treallyhavetimetotalkaboutanythingotherthandogvomitandthefactthatwewerebasicallygoingtohavetoburntherugitwasdepositedon.WespentallnighteitherwalkingMontyoutsideandtryingtogethertodrinkwaterorscrubbingandrinsing.
SoIdidn’thaveachancetotellLucyandMillieaboutmyconversationwithMr.Spencer.Wejustlitasmanylavenderandcitruscandlesaswecouldfind,andIcollapsedonthecouchwithanewlyshampooed,still-wetdog.Ipromptlypassedoutintoadreamaboutaseaoftallgrass.
Ididn’thearathing.Notatruck.Notawhisper.Ididn’thearanythinguntilIlookedoutthewindowandsawGreenvillehadleftusamessage.TEN
GOHOME,DYKE
That’swhattheywrote.
Actually,Ithinktheywrotesomethingelse,butthentheymaybeweren’tsureonthespelling,becausetherewassomestuffcrossedout.ButthentheywroteGOHOME,DYKE
Inblackspraypaint.
Onourfrontlawn.
LuckilyIwasthefirstpersontospotitoutthewindow,andItoreoutsideasquietlyaspossible,speed-callingBerryasIzippedoutthefrontdoorandontothegrass.Thepaintwasonlyjustdry,stickyontheindividualbladesofgrass,whichwerealreadywetwithdew.TheblackrubbedoffonmyfingersasIlistenedtothephoneclickandBerry’ssleepyvoice.“WHA?ANNE?Whattimeis—”
“BERRY!Ineedyoutodomeafavor,likeFAST.Doyouhavespraypaint?”
“Have?What?”IcouldhearBerrygettingoutofbed,thumpingaroundherroom.“Whatdoyouneedspraypaintforat…”
Therewasapause.Arustlingsound.
“Holycow,sevena.m.!”
“Berry—”
Therewasathump.“Wait.Areyouokay?”
“Ineedtopaintoversomething,”Isaid,lookingbackatwhatIhopedwasmystill-sleepinghouse.“Like.Now.OrIneedtolikeblowtorch.ButIthinkpaint—”
“I’mcomingnow.”
Fortunatelyforme,Lucywasn’texactlyburstingoutofbedthatmorning,andMillieneverlikedtogetoutofbeduntilafternoonifshecouldhelpit.Izippedintothekitchenandmadecoffeeandgrabbedtwomuffinsoutofthefridgeandputeverythingonatraywithsomeslicedorangesandbroughtituptotheirroom.
Knockingfirst.
“Comein!”
Milliesatupinbed,whichwasalreadycoveredinbooksandmagazines.Lucywaswatchingthenews.
“We’llbedowninaminute,”Milliesaid.
Iheldupthetray,“Ibroughtyoubreakfast.Forthebedinbreakfast.Whichyouwilleatnow.”
“Youbroughtus…breakfast?”Lucysatup.
“Ialwaysknewweraisedyouright,”Milliejoked,takingamug.“Doesthelivingroomstillsmelllikedogbarf?”
“Onlyfaintly,”Inoted,handingLucyhermugandmuffin.“Thegaragesmellsmorebecausetherugisinthere.”
“Well,we’llgettothatthisafternoon,”Lucysaid,puttinghermuffinonastackofbooksabouteducation.“Iwantedtotalktoyou—”
“ActuallyI’vegotsomestufftodo,”Icutin.“Soenjoyyourbreakfastand…I’llseeyouinabit!”
Milliesippedhercoffee.“Mmmm.Hey,isn’ttennison?”
“Ithinkso!”IcalledbackasItoredownthestairsintothelaundryroomtograbourbeachtowels.
PlanB.
BerryscreecheduptoourcurbinMatothirtyminuteslater,and,notevenbreakingasweat,vaultedoutofthecarwithanarmfulofspraypaint.“Ibroughtblackandgreenandblueandorangeandyellowandpink.Andpurple!”Shesteppeduptowardthelettersonthegrassandfrowned.“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”Isighed.“Fuck.Youthinkthiswasbecausetheydidn’twinthegame?Likesomehowthetieismyfault?”
“Imean,itcouldbeanything,butyeah,thegameprobablydidn’thelp.”Berrystraightenedhershoulders,droppingtherestofthecansonthegrass.“Okay,what’stheplan?”
Shakingthecanofpinkpaint,Isteppeduptothelawnandbegandrawingapinksquarearoundtheletters.ThenIdividedthatsquareintothirds.Andthirdsagain.
“Tic-tac-toe,”Berryasked,shakingthecanofgreen.
“Evenbetter,”Isaid.“SaturdayNightFever.”
SaturdayNightFever,anotherfilmstarringJohnTravolta,releasedin1977,aboutNewYorkdiscotheques.Featuringseveralkeyhitsbytheultimatediscoband,theBeeGees,anAustraliangroupwhowrotethreemegahitsforthemovieincluding:“Stayin’Alive,”“NightFever,”and“HowDeepIsYourLove.”
And“WeShouldBeDancing.”Thebest.
IpulleduptheimageIwasthinkingofonmyphone,whichwasalsotheposterforthemovie.Onit,Travolta,inaniconicwhitepolyestersuitandblackshirt,standsonalit-updancefloor,asquareplatformoflights,hishandupintheairpointingat…thestarspossibly,maybeatatechwhowasstandingonaladder.
IlookedatBerry,myheartanexaggeratedbassline.Becausewedidn’thavemuchtime.BecauseatanymomentmyparentscoulddecidethatitwasindeedweirdthatIwasalllike,Here’samuffininbed.BecauseIbasicallyyankedBerryoutofbedonaSaturday,preciousSaturday,andmadeherbringmeallherpaintandatanymomentshecouldjustgetinhermagicalredcaranddriveaway.Ireallydidn’tknowwhatIwasgoingtodoifshedidthat.OrifshesaidanythingaboutmyPlanAbeingmorelikeanactualPlanHorW.
“Let’sdoit.”Berrynodded,shakingthecanand,withexpertflair,fillinginthetopcornersquare.
TechnicallytherealfloorinthemoviewasanLEDfloorthatchangedwiththemusic.Butthiswaskindofanemergencyrendition.Moreofan“inspiredby”thanadirectcopy.
Eventhoughshewasnotafanofdisco,andhadmadeitcleartomethatshewouldneverseethemovie,Berrywasimpressedwiththefinalproduct.Whichlookedmorelikeaquiltofmanycolorsonthelawnthanadancefloor,butyouknowwhat?Itwasn’tterrible
“Whatnow?”sheasked,tossinghercaninthecardboardbox.
“Wardrobechange,”Isaid.Grabbingmyfavoritesequinedtwo-piecesuitfromwhereI’dleftitontheporch,IpulleditonovermyshortsandshirtandslippedonmygrosswhitesneakersbecauseIknewthey’dberuined.Thesuitwasalightpinkinsteadofwhite,butwithmyblackshirtitlookedprettySaturdaynight.
Berrypulledoutherphone.“Awesome.”
Istartedplaying“Stayin’Alive.”
“Allright.”Berrysteppedback,“So.Um.Strikeapose!”
Isteppedontothestill-stickygrass,whichimmediatelydyedmysneakersarainbowofcolors.SomewhereundermytoewasthefadedoutlineofthewordGo
Ipressedmytoeintothepaint,imaginingTanner’sfacegettingsquishedundermyshoe.GeorgeHerbertwasapoetandthefirstperson,Ithink,tosay,“Livingwellisthebestrevenge,”in1640.Peoplestillsayit,centurieslater.Iheldupmyonefinger,pointedatthesky,andputmyotherhandonmyhip.IpursedmylipsasBerryclickedthephoto.
WhichisaboutwhenMontystartedbarkingherheadoffandIheardthefrontdoorsqueakopen.
“Whatthe—”
“ANNE!”
LucyandMillie,stillinsleepyrobes,holdingemptycoffeemugs,stoodonthefrontsteps.Mouthsopen
“Whattheheck?”Milliegasped.
“YoupaintedtheLAWN?!”Lucysteppedforwardandbentdowntolookatthegrass,inspectingthedamage.
Infairness,itwasn’tasbadasarugofdogbarf.Ididn’tsaythat,butIdefinitelythoughtit.Idon’tknowwhatLucywasthinkingassherubbedthepaintbetweenherfingersandstaredatmysuit.
Berrytookahugestepback.Awkward.
“Whywouldyoudothis?”Lucyasked.
You’regoingtosay,ofallthepeoplethatwouldunderstandwhyIwouldwanttocoversomeone’shatemessageonthelawn,LucyandMilliewouldbetwopeoplewhowouldgetit.Also,let’ssay,coveringthelawnwithspraypaintisnothittingsomeonewithapieceofpizza.
ButIdidn’twantthemtoseeit.Ididn’twanttoseeit.IwishedIhadn’tseenit.AndIdidn’twantthattobeintheirbrainslikeitwasinmine.Evenifitwasn’tnew,Ididn’twantonemoreforMillieorforLucy.Ijustdidn’t.Itwaseasierforthemtobepissedatme,forsomereason,thantohavethemfeelingsadwithme.
Orthat’swhatIthought,Iguess.
“Therewasaholeinthegrass,”Ilied.“SoIfiguredI’dtakeadvantageofit.Makesomeart.ThenIcouldfixthewholething.”
Berrydroppedherphonebyhersideandlookedatme.
Monty,whohadsprintedoutofthehouseaftermymoms,didazoomacrossthefrontlawn,apparentlyfeelingmuchbetter.Withgreatdogzeal,shechargedthroughthepaintedsquare.Herpawswereimmediatelysoakedinpaint.
“GAH!MONTY!”
Lucyshookherhead.“Ican’tdealwiththisrightnow.”Andshewalkedbackinside.Ithinkshewastalkingtoherselfbecauseshewasmakingangrygestureswithherhands.
Millietookalongsipfromhercoffee,thinking.“Whatwouldmakeyouthinkthatitwasevenremotelyokaytocoverthegrasswithpaint?”
“Ijustthought…itwouldlookcool.Likeaninstallationpiece.”Idroppedmyhandsbymyside.“Imean,it’sourproperty,andyoucanjustreplacegrass.”
“Ican?”IcouldfeelMilliesearchingmyeyesforahintofsomething.Milliecanreadmyeyeslikeabook.Itriedtolookindifferent:thegreenofthelawnattheedgeofthepink,myruinedsneakers,Monty’snowdyedpaws.
“I’msorry,”Isaid.“Iguessitwasabadidea.”
“Iguessso.”MillielookedatBerry,whowasfrozeninplace,whichiswhatIwouldhavedone.“Well,lookslikeyou’regoingtobegroundedforthenextweek.Andyoucanspendtherestofyourweekendresoddingourlawn.”
Iassumedresoddingmeantputtingmoresodonthere.Becausesodisgrass,right?Probablynotagreattimetoask,Ireasoned.
“Okay,”Isaid.
Millieturnedandwentbackinside,andBerryreleasedaveryloudsighofrelief.
“Thatwasintense.”
“Yeah,”Isaid,droppingtotheground,justshyofthepaintthatwouldhaveruinedmysuitontopofmyday.
“Myparentswouldhavegroundedmeforamonth.”
“Imean,weliveinGreenville…”Iheldmypalmsup.“I’mprettygroundedasis.”
Thesunwasoutbythen.Abigballofheatseepingthroughmypolyesterjumpsuitandturningmyskinintosomethingthatfeltlikeacookedegg.
“Whydidyoulie?”Berryasked.
“BecauseIdidn’twantmymomstospendtheirweekendthinkingthatsomeoneleftahatemessageontheirlawn.”Isquinted.
Berrylookedatherphone.“Youthinkit’sforthemorforyou?”
Iscrambledtomyfeet.“Goodquestion.”
“Maybeboth,”Berrysaid.Butshedidn’tsoundsure.
Thesunwasstartingtocookmyskull.“Maybeit’sallthesamething.”
“So.”Berrystretched.“Youwanttochangeorareweresoddingthelawnwithyouinpolyester?”
“Youalreadydroveabuttloadofspraypainttomyhouse,”Isaid.“Idon’twanttoputyouout.Youknow.Again.”
Berryshrugged.“WhatelsedoIhavetodoinGreenvilleonaSaturday?”
SomethingaboutBerry’stone…itwaskindoflonely,justatthatmoment.LikeitfeltthesameaswhenIpicturedBerryalonewithhersoccerequipmentwhenshewaslittle.SuddenlyIrealizedmaybeBerrydidn’thaveanyoneelsebutabunchofconcreteanimalstohangoutwith?BecauseGreenvillesucked?
Idon’tknow,maybethatmademefeelworseforbeingthenewfriendthatneeded…help.
MaybeIwasalsonotthatfondofwantinghelp.
MaybeIwasstandingthereinsilence,lookingatthelawn,andBerrybentdownalittletocatchmyeye.
“Soddingisactuallyreallycool,”shesaid,withagrin.
“It’snot.”Igrinnedback.“Butthanks.Forbeinghere.Andhelping.”
“Whenit’smylawn.”Berrytossedherkeysintheairandcaughtthem.“You’llsodme.”
Sowedrovetothenursery.AndBerry,whosomehowknewsomethingaboutgrass(ontopofknowinghowtoplaylikefourinstrumentsandhowtoplaysoccer),helpedmeloadsixsushirollsofdirtandgrassintothetrunk.ThenwewenttotheburgerplaceforbreakfastandlookedatthepicturesfromthatmorningonherphonewhileIshovedfriesinmyface.
“Youlookhilarious,”Berrysaid,turningthephonesideways.“Whatdoyouwanttodowiththese?”
“Photoshop.ThenI’mgoingtopostittonight,”Isaid,pointingatherphone,“Canyousendmethatone?”
“Photoshopwhat?”
“You’llsee.”Islurpedupthelastofmyshake.
“Sendinginamessagenow,”Berrysaid,andsippedonhersoda.
“Gotit.”
WespottedTannerandSarahinTanner’sJeeppullingintotheburgerplaceaswepulledout.Sarahstuckhertongueoutatmeandlaughed.Berry,staringahead,didn’tsee.AndIdidn’tknowwhattosay,soIjustlookedatmyphotosonmyphone.Iwonderwhatpeopledidwithhorriblemomentsbeforetheyhadphones?
Iwouldn’tletBerryhelpmeactuallysod.Like,Ijustcouldn’tandIalsodidn’twanthertogetanymorecoldglaresfrommymoms,whoweredefinitelygoingtobelurking.Igothertoexplainittomeanddiditmyself.Killingatleastoneofthesushirollsintheprocess.Andgettingmudeverywhere.Itwaskindoflikerepairingaholeinmypantsbutwithmoredirt.
Iwasaboutaquarterthroughandheadingbackfromthegarage,withapitchforkandadream,whenIheardaclip-clopcominguptheroad.Ilookedoverandspottedashadow—atallfour-leggedshadowontopofwhichwaswhatIthoughtwassomeonesaluting.
SoapparentlytherearepeopleinGreenvillewhohavehorses?Thattheyride?Onthestreet?
AndapparentlyoneofthosepeopleisGillyHenderson.Ontopofabigblackhorsewithabigwhitestripeonitsnose.Gillysatwithonehandonherhip,theothershieldinghereyesunderherhelmet.Whichwaspinkwithapom-pomonthetop.
Ididn’tknowhelmetscamewithpom-poms.
ButthenapparentlytherewerealotofthingsIdidn’tknow.
Ifroze,pitchforkinhand.ForsomereasonIdidn’twantGillyHendersontoseemeworkingmysod.NotjustbecauseIwasprettysureIwasdoingitwronganditwaspossibleGillyknewtherightwaytofixalawn.
Thehorsestoppedinfrontofthehouse.Gillystoodupinthestirrups.Shewaslookingatthegrass.Shelookedconfused.
ThehorseshuffledforwardandGillypulledbackonthereins.Thenshereachedintoherpocketandpulledoutherphone.
Takingapictureofthelawn?Forwhat?Toshowherfriends.Thefriendswhoprobably,maybeevenwithGilly,sentthismessage?
“Hey!”Iyelledout,steppingforward.“HELLO!HEY!GILLY!”
Apparentlyyouhavetobeverycarefulnottoscarehorses.Agoodwaytodothatwouldbetoholdupapitchforkandapproachthem,shouting.
Spottingme,thehorseskitteredbackward,startlingGillyandme.
“WHOA!”Gillycried.
“Ah!”Idroppedthepitchfork.“Sorry.Ijust.Ididn’tmeantopitchforkatyou.”
Herhairwasspillingdownherbackfromunderherhelmet.ShelookedweirdlyglamorousforsomeoneonahorseinwhatlookedliketrackpantsandaT-shirt.Shereacheddownandranherhandoverthehorse’sneck.“Justchill,”shewhispered.“Chill,man.”
“Hey,uh,”Istuttered,suddenlyadangerouscombinationofembarrassedandmad.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“I’mjustriding,”Gillypressedherlipstogether.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“Uh,ILIVEhereanditseemsprettyobviousthatI’mcleaningupyourmess,”Iseethed.
Makingamessintheprocess,yes,butlet’sstayonpoint.
“Mywhat?”Thehorsestartedwalkingbackward,andGillydugherheelsinhissidestopushhimforward.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Nexttimeyouwanttoleaveamessage,”Ispat,“sendatext.”
Gillyblinked.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
Okay,inmyheadthatsoundedlikeamuchmorescathingreprimandinsteadofjustlikearequestforcourtesy.
Couldyousendahateemailnexttime?
“Yourfriends?Mylawn?”Ipointed.“‘Gohome,dyke’?”
Gillyshookherhead.“Ididn’tdoanythingtoyourlawn.Ididn’tevenknowyoulivedhere.”
“Right.”Ifrowned,turningbacktomymud-and-sodhole.“Well,I’mprettybusy,sobye.”
Ididn’tseeGillyleave,butIheardherhorse’shoovescloppingaway.
LikeIwasgoingtobuyhercrapasecondtime?Don’tthinkso.
IwaitedtillshewasgonetoresumemysodstompingandpokingongrassIbasicallyspentthreemonthsofallowanceon.WhenIwasdone,IsentapicturetoBerryandshesentalaughingemoji.
BERRY
Whatdidyoudotothatpoorgrass?
ANNE
GAH!DidIkillit???
BERRY
NobutItakeitback.Youareneversoddingmylawn.
Thatnight,myparentswentoutforpizza.I’massumingIwasn’tinvitedbecauseofthelawn,althoughreallythelastthingIwantedtodowasgooutintothelion’sdenofGreenville.
IassumedtheSpencerfamilyalsoatepizza.
Instead,IgottoworkonPhotoshop,whichwasoneofmyskillsofchoice,whichIlearnedwhenIwassix,whichiswhathappenswhenyourmom’saphotographer.Whichisnotasfunasglitterbutservesitspurpose.
Berryhadtakenaprettysolidphoto.IsortofwishedI’dstyledmyhair,butIrealizedIcouldalsojustPhotoshopaniceTravoltapompadouronthere.
Ontopofthephoto,intheclassicSaturdayNightFeverfont,ablastofsilverblue,Iputthetext,“STAYIN’RIGHTHERE.”
IposteditandwentdownstairstocleanoffMonty’spawsandaddsomelavendercandlestothegarage.ELEVEN
Idon’tspendalotoftimeonline.
That’snotajudgmentoftheinternet,orsocialmedia,orwhatever.NotthatanyofthosethingscareswhatIthink,butmostlyaresultofmebeingthekidofparentswhobothintenselyvaluemyfreedomofexpressionandhaveintenseopinionsoftheirownaboutwhatwilllimitthatfreedomofexpression.
Akatheinternet.
Lucybelieves,IthinkI’mgettingthisright,thattheinternetisaplaypenofunchecked,unregulated,oftenuninformedopinionsandanonymous,oftentoxiccontent.Shedoesn’ttrusttheinternetandthinksotherpeopleshouldalsonottrustit.
Millieseesthewebassomesortofstrangeboardgamethatshebelievesismostlyboringanduncool.
IhaveaPic-o-gramaccountwhereIpostarttypethings,butIonlyhavelikefiftyfollowers:anaccumulationofpeopleIwenttoschoolwith,includingDanny,andafewofmymoms’artistfriends,andmygrandmaonMillie’sside,whoisabitofaharshcriticandrarelylikesthingsIpost.
SoIwasn’tallthatsurprisedtowakeuponSundayandfindfortysmileyfacesonmypicture.Ialsowasn’tterriblysurprisedtoseethatGreenvillehadalsoweighedin,butitwasalittle…much.Youcan’tunlikeapictureonPic-o-gram.Butyoucanmakefunofitandthepersonwhopostedit
MostlyGreenvillerespondedinmycommentsbytellingmeIwasa)fatorb)uglyorc)someversionofabitch.Afewpeopledidn’tgetthereferenceandthoughtmySaturdayNightFevertributewasasalute.Therewerealotofbarfingemojis.
DRAGONSRULE9824:Wowthisfatbitchneedstodomorecardio!
FIGHTFORDRAGONS23:HAHAHAdisgusting!!!
DRAGONBBABYGGGIRL:Someoneneedssomeanorexia
Ididn’trecognizeallthenamesorprofilepics,butprettymuchallofthecomments,suggestingalackoforiginality,haddragonnames.
IalsonoticedthatDRAGONBALL88hadthemosttosay.
DRAGONBALL88:IthoughttheytoldyoutoGOHOME.
Istaredatmyphoneasthebarfemojiscontinuedtopopulate.Itfeltlikesomeonewaswipingtheircleatsonmystomach.
Ataboutsixa.m.,Danny(mostmagicalDakaMOSTMAGICALD)poppedintothecomments.
MOSTMAGICALD:Ohlook!Abunchofstraightpeoplewithnoimaginationcommentingonsomethingtheyknownothingabout!Cool.
DRAGONPINKQUEEN:
MOSTMAGICALD:Ohwow!Vigorousintellectualdebate.Greenvilleseemsliketonsoffun!
DRAGONPINKQUEEN:Don’tcareifyouhavefunhereasshole.
DRAGONBALL88:
MOSTMAGICALD:#tackybitcheswithlotstosay
DRAGONPINKQUEEN:Maybefuckoff?
MOSTMAGICALD:Umdoyouknowyournamesoundslikedragonvagina?
Afewsecondslatermyphonebuzzed.
DANNY
Hey.RUok?Doyouwantmetocomeandslaysomedragonsforyou?
ANNE
No.I’mjustsittinghereinthemiddleofnowhereseriouslydebatinggettingonabusbacktoPetaluma.
DANNY
ThenthingsmustREALLYbebad.
DannylivesinChicagoandthinksanywherethatisnotChicagosucks.
IflippedovertoPic-o-gramonmyphoneanddeletedthephoto.WhichIinstantlyregretted.Becauseit’sliketheysomehowconvincedmetoerasemyself.
FYI,thechoicebetweenbeingyourselfandbeingshitonisnotminealone,butituniversallysucks.
SothereIwas,Sundaymorning,drowninginaspecialformulaofself-loathingandregretwhenMillieknockedonthedoor.
“Hey,”shesaid,pointedlywalkingaroundmystill-unpackedboxesandpilesofclothes.“Ineedyoutocomewithmetoashoottoday.Areyoufree?”
“Today?”Ifloppedbackinmybed,hopingtoconveywiththatonewordthatIwasoverwhelmedwithlifeandinnopositiontobeofanyhelptoanyone.“It’sSUNday.AndI’mgrounded.”
“Yes,itis,andyes,youare,butyouwillbeundermysupervision,andyoudon’twanttodoit,soit’sstillsortofapunishment.”Millienoddedbriskly,takingonelastlook.“Comeon,I’llbuyyouaprobablysubparbreakfastburrito.”
Itwasprettysubpar.(WhatisupwithGreenvilleandnormallytastytakeoutfoods?)Butitwasdefinitelymoresatisfyingthancoldcerealandsittinginmyroomfeelinglikecrap.
TheshootwasforoneofMillie’sportraitsforherseriesonaging,atalocationjustoutsideGreenville,alittletowncalledAvonlee.AvonleemightbethemostadorableplaceI’veeverbeen;it’sahamletbehindacurtainoftreeswithtinylittleflowers.Drivingtherewaslikeenteringasnowglobeofpetals.
“So,”Millieasked,flickingonthewindshieldwiperstobrushthefloralconfettioffthewindshield,“shouldwetalkaboutyourphotoshootyesterday?”
“Yousawitonmyphotos?”
“You’reshockedyourmomsarelurkingonyoursocialmedia?TheonlyreasonIuseanyofthoseappsistospyonyourlife.PlusmymomsaidIshouldtakealook.”Millieraisedaneyebrow.“Thecommentsseemed…prettyrough.”
“Imean,itsucks,butit’sfine.”Istaredatthepetalstwistinginthewind.“I’mjustgettingthefeeling…like…nothingIamorlikeordoisgoingtobeokaywithGreenville.”
Millietookalastbiteoutofherburrito.“ItisentirelypossiblethatGreenvillewillnevergetyou,”shesaid.“Butatsomepoint,it’snotaboutthem.”
Imusthavesighedoneofthosesighsthat’sbiggerthanyoumeanittobe.Like,amorehonestbreaththanyouexpectcomingoutofyourbody.
“Whichisnottosayyoucan’ttalktomeandyourmomaboutwhyitsucks.”Millie’seyesdartedmyway.“Imean,thatwasreallyalotofbarfingemojis.”
“Raincheck,”Isaidhopefully.
“Always,”Milliesaid.“Justcheckinwithmyassistant,I’malwaysaround.”
Ourdestinationwasatthetopofaroadthatwoundupagreenhilllikesomesortoffairytale.Atthetippity-topwasapinkhousethatlookedlikeitcouldopenuplikeadollhouse.ItwasthemostmagicalthingIhadseensincearrivinginGreenville.Crispwhitemoldingflashinginthesun.Littlegold-lookingtrianglesperchedoneachroofpeak.
“Damn.”
“Hereweare.”Millieshovedontheparkingbrake.“Ithinkyou’regoingtolikethislady.”
Thislady,whensheopenedthepinkdoorwithanemphaticandalmostdramaticwhoosh,wasatallwoman,likeeventallerthanMillie,wholookedtobeaboutahundred,withlongsilverhairsheworeinabraidthattrickleddownherrightshoulder,andtwodistinct,butnotnecessarilyoverlygarish,circlesofrougeonhercheeks.Shelookedlikeafairyprincessiffairyprincessesworelongmultilayeredvelvetmuumuus.Andsandals.Andsmelledlikecookies.
Actually,thoseallseemliketheycouldbelegitfairyprincessthings.
“Goodmorning,”thewomancalledout,inavoicethatwasalmostoperatic.“Howlovelytofinallymeetyouinperson,Millie!”
Milliereachedouttoshakethewoman’shand,whichwascoveredinlayersofsilverandgoldrings.“Thankyousomuchforagreeingtotakepartinthis.”
“Well,I’mafanofyourwork!”thewomanboomed.“AsidefromsomeBBCtonight,thiswillbethehighlightofmyday.”
“Anne.”Millieheldherhandoutinagestureofintroduction.“ThisisBeverlyLynde.”
Lynde?
Mybreathcaughtinmythroat.Mrs.Lynde?Likethemother(oraunt,possibly)oftheimposing,veryjudgmental,oftendisdainfulPrincipalRachelLynde?Apersonwhohatesme?
IshotMilliealookthatread,Youbroughtmetotheenemies’house,onaSunday?
Milliemissedthislook,asshewasbusygettingherbagsofequipmentthroughthedoor.
Oncue,thisolder,possiblycoolerLynde,heretoforeknownbymeasLyndeSenior,restedherwaterybluebutalsoverysharpeyesonme.“TheAnne.Ihaveheardaboutyou.Ihavealsobeenanxioustomakeyouracquaintance.”
Istiffened.Spotted.Spiedon?Probably.
Ofcourseshekneweverything!
Istillhadn’tgottenthosecurtainsup!
WasPrincipalLyndehersource?Isearchedherface.
Playitcool,Anne,Itoldmyself.
“Okay,”Isortofshouted.“It’sverynicetomeetyou.”
LyndeSeniorsmiled,revealingagoldcaninetooth.“Noneedtoshout,dear.Thekneesareout,buttheearsworkfine.”
“Sorry.”
Shewinked.“Goodness,Iloveyourhair,”shesaid.“Andthatsweater!Whatafascinatingcolorstory!Pleasecomein.”
Okay,unexpectedpointstoBeverlybecauseIwasinfactwearingacolorstoryconsistingofaneon-yellowsweater,pinkjeans,andgreenCrocs,whichwithmyorangehairconstructedastoryIhadmentallytitled“CitrusFantasy.”LookingatBeverlyLyndesomemore,Irealizedheroutfitalsotoldacolorstory,whichIwouldtitle“AncientMoonlightVelvetWitchLullaby.”
IsteppedoverthethresholdintotheworldofBeverlyLynde.Whichwasfull,fullofstuff.Everywallwascoveredinpaintingsandportraitsofalldifferentstyles.Therewereblack-and-whitephotographsofaustere-lookingmenandafewofsomeless-than-austere-lookingmen.Andmanymanyphotographsofvariousprettysexy-lookingBeverlys.
Thiswasnotherfirstphotoshoot.
Therewerewallsandwallsofbookshelvesandbooksstackedoneverysurfaceandonalmosteverystepofthewhitewindingdoublestaircasethatledupfromthefronthall.Everypieceoffurniturelookedlesslikeapieceoffurnitureandmorelikeahouseguest,dressedinsomesortoffabric,scarf,orsweater.Chairslolledinthehallwaysandcouchescutoffdoorways.Lyndeledusthrough,weavingadeptlyandmovingatasolidclipdespiteherknees.
“Don’texcusethemess,”shejokedasshedirectedusthroughthemazeofstuff,herrobesbillowing.“It’spartofmycharm.”
Shepointedatabackroom,asortofsunroomfullofplantsandevenmorebooks.
“Ithink,”shemused,“thelightwillbebestinhere.”
Therewasagiantblue-and-yellowstuffedbirdperchedonalargebranchthatstretchedacrosstheroom.Itsleftwingwasspreadouttorevealdelicatelayersofvariousshadesofbluefeathers.Itseyeslookedliketheyweremadeofsomesortofancientpreciousjewel.
“Justignorehim.”LyndeSeniorwavedatthebirddismissively.“That’sWaldo.Hisspiritisstrongbutnotdestructive.”
“Gotit.”Millienodded.“Anne,gimmeahand?”
Millieisafanofano-fuss-no-mussapproachtophotography.Wequicklysecuredachair,settingitjustinfrontofWaldo,andsetupthetripodforthecamera.LyndeSeniorchattedawayabouttheweatherandtheartofphotographyasshecartedinsnacksontinyplates,perchingthemonvariousbooks.
Beverlywasafanofart,period.Shelikedmixedmediumwork.Butadoredportraits.Shelovedtextilework.Andsculpturesolongasitwasn’ttoobigonitself.Shewantedtobedelighted,shesaid,andsometimesevenchallenged.
Oncetherewasasnackbalancingoneverysurface,LyndeSeniortookherseatandMilliegotbehindthecamera.
“Thisisperfect,”Milliesaid.“JustrelaxandtalktoAnne;Idon’twantyoutoostiff.”
“Notyet,atleast.”LyndeSeniorwinked.
!!!
“Well,then.Whereonearthdidyougetthatlovelysweater,Anne?”BeverlyLyndeclappedherhandstogether.
“It’svintage.”Iheldupthebelledsleeves.“IgotitataplaceinPetaluma,whereweusedtolive.”
Millie’scameraclicked.
“It’sgorgeous.Brightcolorsdon’tappealtomypallorbutIadorethem.”LyndeSeniorturnedherheadslightly.“Now,Anne,howareyoufindingGreenville?You’veonlyjustarrived,correct?Afewweeks?Howdoesitmeasureup?”
“Oh,um.”Isnatchedacookieofftheplate.“It’sgreat.Iloveithere.”
Iwasmid-munchwhenBeverlyLynde,Ishityounot,snorted.Milliechuckled,snappinganotherpicture.
“What’ssofunny?”Iwipedthecrumbsoffmysweater.
“Mydeargirl.Greenville,donotgetmewrong,isalovely,beautifulplace.Picturesqueeven.”Sheadjustedherlayers.“Butitisawell-knownfactthatitsresidentshaveveryold,well-wornsticksuptheirbutts!”
Ishock-coughedsohardalittlepieceofcookieactuallyshotoutofmynose
“Well,then.”Milliechuckledassherummagedinherbagforadifferentlens.
“Greenvilleisnotgoodwiththenewonanylevel,soIamhardpressedtoimaginethembeingreceptivetoamultidimensionaldaisylikeyourself,”LyndeSeniorfinished,adjustingherrobes.
Mentalnote:Iamamultidimensionaldaisy.
“Imean,”Isaid,cautious,“Iwouldsaytheyseemalittle…like…traditional.Here.”
LyndeSenior,akaMyFavoriteLynde,reachedforwardandsnatchedacookieoffanearbyplate,poppingitintohermouthwhole.“Myfamilyhasbeenhereforgenerations,mygirl,soIsaythisfromexperience.Greenvilleisacitythathasalwaysrewardedandhousedthesmall-minded.”
MyFavoriteLyndeadjustedinherseat,tossingherbraidoverhershoulder.“Iwasthefirstwomaninmyfamily,andthetown,topracticelawandtochooseacareerovermarriage.Andwhatdidtheydo?Inlightofmysuccesses?”
Ishookmyhead,legitimatelycurioustohearwhatshewasgoingtosaynext.
Shetossedherhandsupintheair.“Pandemonium!Theylosttheirbuttons!Theysetmeasideandadrift.AsthoughIhadsetthetownonfireforrefusingtobeanotherstoneintheroad.”
Milliesnappedinhernewlens,butnotbeforetossingameaningfullookmyway.
“Yeah,Icanseethathappening,”Irespondedquietly.
“AnddoyouknowwhatIdidwhentheyshowedmetheirspots?”Lyndeleanedforward,hereyestwinkling.
“Youdidn’tcare?”
“Well,Ididcareatfirst,”Lyndesaid,swiftlysnatchingyetanothercookie,“butthenIhadalotofsexandmadealotofmoneyandItraveledthebigandbeautifulworld…andthenIdidn’tcaresomuch.”
ThistimeitwasMillie’sturntochokeonacookie.
“Well.”Milliecoughed.“WisewordsifeverIheardthem.”
“I’mtakingnotes,”Itoldher.
“Youdothat,mydear,andyou’llbebetterforit.”Lyndetookamomenttogivemeanotherwink.Iwantedtovaultoverthetwocouchesbetweenmeandherandthrowmyarmsaroundher.
Milliesnappedafinalpicture.“Ithinkwehaveit,Beverly.”
“CallmeBev.”Bevstretched.“Allmyfriendsdo.”
Justthentherewasthesoftcrackleandpopoftiresovergravel.
“Ah,dear.”Bevraisedafinger.“Thatwillbemylessenjoyableappointmentfortheday,”shegrumbled.
“Doyouneedustoclearout?”Millieasked,reachingforherbag.
“Heavensno!Youmaytakeyourtime,”Bevsighed,“butyou’lllikelywanttoleavewhenyouseewhomynextguestis.”
Aswehustledourgearoutofthehouse,Igothermeaning.ThereinthedrivewaywastheOtherLynde,akaMyLeastFavoriteLynde,akaTheLyndewhodidn’tthinkIwasamultidimensionaldaisy.Ordidn’tlikedaisies.Orboth.
PrincipalLyndewaswearingwhatIguessedwereher“SundayClothes,”whichconsistedofaplainT-shirt(white.Who’dshegetthatideafrom?)andapairoflet’scallthemgraypants?ThisversionofPrincipalLyndewasalittlelessintimidating,butstill,Igotasolidfloodofbacksweatashergazemetmine.
PrincipalLyndegaveMillieasharpnod.“Mrs.Shirley.”
“It’sjustMillie,thanks,”Milliesaid,poppingopenthetrunk.“PrincipalLynde.”
PrincipalLynde’snarrowgazesettledonme.“MissShirley.”Hervoiceslicedthroughtheair.“Iseewehaveabandonedthedecorumofappearanceyoubrieflydisplayedatschoolnotlongago.Wheredidthatgirlwhoknewhowtoconductherselfinpublicgo?Iwonder.”
Sweat.Dripping.Downmyback.“Uh.Hello,PrincipalLynde.GoodSundaytoyou.”
“Goodgracious,Rachel.”Bevfloatedtowardus.“ThesepeoplearemyguestsandI’llthankyouforkeepingyourfashiontastestoyourself.Especiallygiventhecircumstancesofyouhavingnotaste.”
AsmallfireflaredinPrincipalLynde’seyes.“Ibegyourpardon,Auntie.”
“Youheardme.”Bev’seyesnarrowed.“Ifyoudon’thaveanythingnicetosaytomyveryspecialguests,youcankeepyourtrapshut.Nowwhatwasityoucameherefor?”
BATTLEOFTHELYNDES!(GuesswhosesideIwason?)
Itwasoverprettyquickly,actually,asPrincipalLyndehuffedpastBevandintothehouse.“I’mjustheretopickupsomefilesfromUncleMackenzie’soffice,Auntie.I’llbegoneinaminute.”
MillieandIhoppedinthecar,whichIwasexpectingtobetheendofit,butasMillieshovedherkeysintheignition,therewasatapontheglassnexttomyhead.Bevwaitedpatientlyformetorolldownthewindow.
“Icantellyou’reasmartbird,”shesaid.“BecauseI’masmartbird,too.”
Notingthattheotherbirdinthisscenariowasstuffedandinhersunroom.
“Well.Thanks.”
“Don’tletthemgetyoudown.”Shewaggledafingeratme.“Thistownistoosmalltopushyoudownahill.”
Andwiththatsheflickedherbraidoverhershoulderandheadedintothehouseonwingsofvelvet.
“Well,”Milliesaid,backingoutofthedriveway.“Ithoughtthatwouldbequitesomething.”
“Anditwas,”Ifinished,breathless.
Look.I’mnotsayingIthinkitwasthebestpeptalkever.Whathillandhowdoesatownasacollectivepushyoudownsaidhill?Hardtosay.ButIthoughtalotaboutBeverlyafterthatmeeting.SomuchthatlaterthatnightIdreamedIwasagiantgreenbirdwithgrayfeathersonitshead,flyingoverGreenville.
Thenextday,inspiredbyBeverly,Iworeavelvetbatwinggold-and-pink-tie-dyedponchotopthatIliketoimagineoncebelongedtoamagician.Oranartteacher.Pairedwithmypinkjeansnowcutintoshortsandmygoldsparklyhigh-heeledbootsthatIhadsparkledmyself.
Ileftatrailofglitterfromthefrontdooroftheschooltohomeroom.WhichBerrysaidlookedlikesomesortofWizardofOzyellowglitterroad.
IcaughtthelooksofTannerandSarahasItookmyseatinEnglishclassfirstperiod,butIdidn’tletthembotherme.
Attheendofclass,Mr.Davidson,inapowder-bluevest,heldupacrispnewsign-upsheetfortheschoolplayauditions.
“Notsurewhathappenedtothelastlist,”hesaid,surveyingthecrowdforsignsofguilt.“Butthisnewoneisgoingupnow.Ifanyonewouldliketosignupforauditions,pleaseputyournameherebytheendoftheday.”
Berrysnuckalookatmefrombehindhertextbook.
Iraisedmyhand.“Icanputitupinthehall,”Ioffered.
Mr.Davidsonhandedmethesheetwithaflourish.“Thankyou,Anne.”
ThebellrangjustasIwaspressingthelastpieceoftapeontothewall.Iwrotemynameonthetopline.
“So,Idon’tGETit.”Sarahsteppedupbehindme,herwholefaceapinch.“Youthinkbecauseyoudresslikeafreakyoucan,like,actorsomething?”
Iswiveledonmyglitteryheel.“Whatdidyousay?”
“ISAID”—Sarahlookedaround,maybenotexpectingarequestforaclarification—“youthinkjustbecauseyoudresslikeafreakyoucanact?”
“Iguesswe’llfindout,”Isaid.“Won’twe?”Iheldoutmypen.“Yousigningup,too?”
GillyandTannersteppedintothehallway.TannerwalkedupnexttoSarahwhileGillyleanedonalocker,lookingintheotherdirection.
Sarahstaredatmypenlikeitwasaworm.“Uh,no.Thanks.”
“Newgirlbotheringyou?”Tannerasked,puttingaprotectivearmaroundSarah’sshoulder.
“Yes.”Sarahpouted.“SheIS.”
Myheartstartedbeatinginmythroat.
Iamasmartbird,Itoldmyself.Iammultidimensional
“Youknow”—Itwirledmypenaroundmythumb—“freaksinventedtheater.Itwasliketheweirdestjobyoucouldhave,likeinEnglandwhenShakespearewasaround,itwastheweirdjob.Andonlyfreakscoulddoit.Thegrandhistoryoftheaterisnotahistoryofnormalpeople.It’sofpeoplewhoarewillingtotakerisks.”
Berryemergedfromclass.
“Seeyouatauditions.”Iwaved.
Greenvilledidn’thaveroomforme?Iwouldmakeroom.
Toosmalltopushmedownahill?Wasthatwhatshesaid?
Likemaybeitwasaboutseeingyourownweightandsize,toseehowmuchbiggeryouarethansomeoneelse’ssmallideas.
“Allgood?”Berryasked,leaningintomeasweexited,pastGilly,whogloweredatmefromloweredlids.
“Allgood,”Isaid.
Afteracelebratoryhighfive,Berrysplitforbandpractice,andIskippedallthewayhomefromschool.
Allthewayhome,Ikepthavingthisfeeling,whichIgetfromtimetotime.Afeelinglikeasparklyballooninmychest.Aslightlynervousbutalsogoodfeeling.
Likesomethingwasabouttohappen.TWELVE
Inmyup-to-thenhighschooltheatricalcareer,Ihadbeeninsixschoolplays.GenerallyIamnotthelead.Butthereare,astheaterpeopleknow,nosmallparts,onlysmallactors.
MyfirstrolewasasSneezy,thesixthofthesevenDwarfsinmykindergartenproductionofSnowWhite(wheretheteachergaveherselftheroleofSnowWhite).MillienotedIhadaverybelievablesneeze,whichIlearnedfromLucy’sallergiesandalotofpracticing.
IwastheNurseinRomeoandJulietinfifthgrade,IwasatownspersoninTheCrucibleayearlater(Iswitchedschoolshalfwaythroughthetermthatyear);dittoOurTownayearlater.IwasNickBottominAMidsummerNight’sDreambecausethereweren’tenoughboysthatyearandIwastheonlygirlwhowasn’tconfinedbygenderroles.
Mydreamrolesinclude:theButlerinClueandDorothyinTheWizardofOz
Butreally,I’llplayanything.
Ithinkthat’skindofkeytobeinganartist.Thatlevelofflexibility.
Millietoldmeoncethatthestageisanexampleofaliminalspace.Whichisaspacethat’sbetween,notonethingoranother.It’stherealworldbecauseit’srealpeopleandit’sactuallyintherealworld,notinsay,space.
Butit’salsoamagicalspace.Whereanythingcanhappen.Whereyoucantakeaboxandsayit’saspaceshipandthenit’saspaceship,ortakeakidwho’ssixteenandfromNewJerseyandsaythey’reanancientwizard.
Onthestage,whenthelightsareonme,IcanbewhateverIwanttobe.
Toprepareforanaudition,whenpossible,IliketopretendI’minadressingroomatafancyBroadwaytheater,sittinginfrontofoneofthosemirrorswiththelightsallaround,abouquetofrosesonmydressingtableasIprepmymakeupandrunmylines.ObviouslythebathroomonthesecondflooratGreenvilleHigh,theonewiththedoorthatdoesn’tcloseandonlyonesinkthatworks,isapoorsubstitute,butyouworkwithwhatyougot.
ForthepurposeofmystagedebutatGreenville,Iworemysignatureorangeinmultipleshadesof…orange:asetofblood-orangebell-bottompantswithheartpatchesontheknees,asorbetturtleneck,andaneon-orangeblazerthatthesalespersonattheusedplacewhereIboughtittoldmewasonceownedbyagirlwhoworkedforLucilleBall(starofILoveLucyandcomedicgenius).
SinceLucilleBallwasaroundwaybeforeneonwaschic,Iwasprettysureitwasalie,butIappreciatedtheeffortandthemagic.
I’dre-dyedmyhairTangerineMadness,christeningournewtubwithanorangeglow.
MilliesaidIlookedlikeareallyaggressiveextrafromTheMaryTylerMooreShow.Whichisaretroreferencethatiscuriouslyoutsideofmywheelhouse.
Ireadanarticleoncethatsaidanactorshouldhavetwoauditionspreparedincasesomeoneelsehasthesamepieceready,alsosoyoucanreadtheroomanddowhateverfeelsthemostappropriateatthattime.Ihad“Don’tRainonMyParade”fromFunnyGirlandIhadthe“IDon’tTip”speechfromReservoirDogsmemorized,whichcouldbeacontroversialchoicebutasurprisingone,Ithink.
Keepthemontheirtoes.
Isnappedmycompactclosedandmovedmyfaceclosertothemirroroverthesink.
“It’sopeningnight,”Isaid,pullinganorangehairoffmyface.“It’sopeningnightandit’stimetoputonaSHOW.”
ThewholewaytomyauditionIsang“Don’tRainonmyParade”undermybreath,infusingitintomysystem.Iwasn’texpectingtoturnthecornerandrunintoTanner.Buttherehewas,standingoutsidetheauditoriuminhissoccerjerseyandjeans,grinninglikehewasholdingapackageforme.
Specialdelivery.
“AnneShirley.”Hesmiledwide.“HowcanIhelpyouthisfinemorning?”
Ireachedforthedoor.“I’mherefortheauditions,TannerSpencer.Pleasemove.”
“Ohhono.”Tannermovedslightlysohebumpedmyarmoutoftheway.“Justholdonaminute.”
“Tanner,”Isaidevenly.“Move.Now.”
“Guessyou’veneverauditionedforaplayinGreenvillebefore.”Tannercrossedhisarmsoverhischest.“Yougotyourauditionready?”
Ibuttonedmylipstogether.
“Yougotyouroutfit.”Henoddedatmypants.“Gotthepassword?”
“Whatpassword?”
“Oh,ifyou’regoingtoauditionforaplayhere,yougottohaveapassword.Ifyoudon’t…”Tannerhelduphishands.“WhatcanIdo?”
Hisfacebobbedinfrontofme,swimmingonaseaofpsychicsteamthatwasclearlypouringoutofmyears.Hehadazitonthetipofhischin.
“Youknowwhat?I’mgoingtogiveyoutwoguesses.”Tanner’steethflashed.
“Tanner.”
“Threeguesses.Forthenewgirl.”
Myfacewasgettinghot,nothelpedbythefactthatIwaswearingaturtleneck,whichwasfunnelingallmybodyheatintomycheeks.
“Tanner.”Myvoiceburned.Ilookeddownthehall,whichwasempty.
“YouthinkthepasswordisTanner?”
IvisualizedmyfistconnectingwithTanner’sjaw,crackingthatsmileoffhisface.Thevisionwaspowerful.ButIalsoknewIwasahallwayawayfrommymom’soffice.
Butstill,itwasaverysatisfyingideaandTannerwasbeingajerk.
“Howaboutzit?”Isaid.“IsZITthepassword?”
Irubbedmychinwithmymiddlefinger.
“Youknowwhat,newgirl?”Tannerleanedforward.“Ifeellikewe’vetoldyouafewtimesnowthatnooneherelikesyourshit,like,noonewantsyouhere.Andyouneedtogetthatmessage.Soon.”Hepushedhisfaceupclosertomine.“Whatdoyousayaboutthat,AnneShirley?”
Hewantedmetohithim.
AndIwasdefinitelyconsideringit—whensuddenlytherewasabumpfrombehindthedoor,andascufflingsound,followedbyamuffled,“Whoisthat?”
Tannerhop-stumbledforward,almostfallingintome,asthedoorpitchedopen,revealingMr.Davidsoninaturtleneck(white)withaconfusedlookonhisface.
“Tanner?”Mr.DavidsonlookedbackandforthbetweenTannerandme.“What’sgoingon?”
Myfacewastheangriestredballoon.
“Justwaitingforauditions,Mr.Davidson.”Tannerlolled,steppingbacksohewasstandingnexttome.“MeandAnne.”
“AnneandI,”Icorrected.NotthatIcareaboutgrammarbutbecauseIhatedTannerandcouldnotpunchhim.
Mr.Davidsonlookedatmeforalongsecond.Thenhenoddedcrisply.“Ilikeyourturtleneck.”
Theredballoonbecamemyfaceagain.“Thanks.”
Hesteppedback,holdingopenthedoor.“Well,I’mverymuchlookingforwardtoseeingbothyouractingchops,”hesaid.
“Okay,”Isaid,steppingthroughDavidsonandTannerintotheauditorium.
WhereIcouldbreathe.
“Let’sgo,Tanner,”IheardDavidsonsay.
Inside,theauditoriumlightswereloweredexceptforthreespotsoflightonthestage.WhichseemedlikeakindofgiftreallyasItookaseatinoneofthebackrowsandenjoyedamomentinthedarktoholdmyhandstilltheystoppedshaking.Mr.Davidsonwalkedtothefrontoftheroom,andthestage,whichwaslitupwithlights,totalktotherestofthepeopleintheauditorium.
“Right,soweallknow—well,mostofusknow—theroutine.We’lldotheauditionsingroupsoftwoorsingles.Yourchoice.We’rejustlookingforemotionhere,forsomepersonality,somestagepresence,sodon’tworryaboutmemorizing.”
“ArewedoingaShakespeareplay?”someoneaskedinthedark.
“Uh,no.”Mr.Davidsonlookedathissheet.“We’restillinnegotiationsastowhatourplaywillbe.Anyotherquestions?”
Theroomwasquiet,justbodiesinthedark,murmuring.
“Iknowyou’llalldoyourbestandbewonderful.”Mr.Davidsonlookedoutateachface.“Justtakeadeepbreath.”
Sarah,Tanner,Gilly,andJohnsatinaclusterofseatsinthefrontrow.
“Let’sstartwithSarah.”Mr.Davidsonlookedupfromhisclipboardatthefrontofthestage.“Sarah,areyouhere?”
“Yes!”SarahpulledTannerupbyhisarm.“TannerandIaregoingtodoOurTown.”
“Soundsgood.”Mr.Davidsonwavedthemupontothestage.“Getonupthere.”
SarahandTannermarcheduptothefrontofthestage.Gilly’sheadseemedtoscootdowninherseat.Maybeshedidn’twanttobethere?
AsSarahgotuponstageInotedthatshewaswearingalongbluedresswithawhitecollar,herhairbrushedintoasoftblondswirlthatfellaroundherneck.
Shelookedreallynice.Shelooked…likeshewasincostume.
Sarahsteppeduptothefrontofthestageandgazedoutintotheaudience,purposefullywistful.ImeanI’mnotahugefanofOurTown,butSarahdidlooklikeEmily,andwhensheheldherhandtoherheartanddeliveredherlines,shesoundedlikeEmily.
Mr.Davidson,whohadwalkedbackwarduptheaisleassheandTannerdeliveredtheirlines,clappedloudlyastheyfinished.SarahtookaverydeepandgracefulbowandTannerdidalittleshortoneandthentheyhoppedoffthestageandtookseatsontheothersideoftheaisle.
Okay,soSarahandTannerhadsomechops.Theworldisasurprisingplace.
“Verywelldone,”Mr.Davidsonboomed,“Verywelldone.”
Heturned,pointedatmewithhisclipboard.“Anne,you’renext.”
Istoodupabruptly,mykneeknockingtheseatsasIscootedoutofmyrow.Ideep-breathedcalmintomybodyasIheadeddowntheaisle.Iwasafewstepsfromthestage,walkingtowardMr.Davidson,whensuddenlyIfeltsomethinghardhitmyfoot,coordinatedwithsomeonecallingout:
“Whoops!”
Iflewforwardintothedark,catchingsightofMr.Davidson’shorrifiedfaceasheleapedforwardtograbmebeforeItookatotalheader.Mywristgotthehardendofhisclipboardaswebothstruggledtogettoourfeet,whilesnickersrolledovertheaudiencebehindus.Asomewhatfamiliar,hissingvoicecutthroughitall.
“Tanner!Whatthefuck?”
“Shutthefuckup!”Tannersnapped.“Ididn’tdoanything.”
Mr.Davidsonmanagedtogethisfootingandhaulmetomyfeet,ahumanbagofflustered.
“Areyouallright,Anne?”heasked,lookingup.“Whathappened?”
Gillywasstandinginfrontofherseat.Shelookedatme,andthenatTanner,whothrewhishandsup.
“Idon’tknow!Shemusthavetripped,”hesaid.
Sarahstood.“Isawit,”shesaid.“Annejusttrippedonhershoeorsomething.”
Ituggedmyturtleneckbackintoplaceandtriedtowipethesweatoutofmyeyes.Mr.Davidsontightenedhisgriponmyhand.“Doyouneedamoment,Anne?”
“No.”
Iroller-skateandIhavetakenpartinmyshareofperformanceart.Youneedtodoalittlemorethanstickyourfootouttogetinmyway,TannerSpencer.
ButmylegswerewobblyasMr.Davidsongavemeapatonthearmbeforelettinggo.
“Okay,then,”hewhispered.“You’lldogreat.”
Ilookedup.Gilly’seyesdartedovertoTannerandSarahbeforesettlingonme.
“Areyouokay?”shewhispered.
“Yeah,I’mgood,”Isaid,walkingtowardthestage.
Theauditoriumstagewasshallow,andthefloorlookedlikethesamefloorasthebasketballcourt.MykneesfeltsoftandshakyasIsteppeduptotheedge,theedgeofthelightandthelinebetweenrealandmake-believe.
“I’mdoing,um…”I’dforgotten.“I’mstartingwith,um,thesong,uh,‘Don’tRainonMyParade.’”
“Lovely!”Mr.Davidsontookhisseat.“Whenyou’reready,Barbra.”
Asmallsnortechoedthroughtheroom.
Iwalkedtothecenterofthestage,shookmyhandsout,theyweresosweaty.Ifacedmyaudience,triedtofeeltherestofmybody.Myfeet,mylegs.Myvoice,whichwassomehowgone.Orhidingsomewhereinmychest.FlutteringaroundinthedarkwhereIcouldn’tfindit.WhereIcouldn’ttouchitwithmyfingersoutstretched.Iclosedmyeyes.
Mysingingvoicesoundedstrangled,likesomeonewasholdingitbythetail.Suddenlytherewasalowgutter-rumblingcough.
Istopped.
Mr.Davidsonlookedaroundtheroom,thenbackatme,nodding.“Takeyourtime,Anne.”
Istartedagain,didmybesttochannelmyinnerFunnyGirl.
Thistimeitwastwocoughs.Onelowandonehigh.Followedbywhispers.Andalaugh.Iknewwhereitwascomingfrom.Butitwasalsospreading.Littlecoughs.Someoneclearingtheirthroat.Snickering.
Thecoughingcontinued,gettinglouderandlouderwitheverysecond.LouderasIsanglouder.
SoIstopped.Mybreathstoppedtoo.Everythingstopped.Onthestage.
Idroppedmyhead.Everythingfroze.Includingthecoughing.
Iliftedmyhead.Feltthelightonmyface.
Comeon,Anne,Ithought.Youlovethis.Thisisyourfuckingthing.Don’tletthemtakeitaway.
Iopenedmymouthandletthefirstthingtocomeoutofit,comeout.
Iwasnotsurprisedthatitwas“IWillSurvive”byGloriaGaynor,released1978,witharoller-skatingvideothat’smaybethecoolestthingontheinternet,thatwasthefirstthingpastmylips.
Andit’sasongaboutnotgivingup.
AndIwasn’tgivingup.
Ithrewmyarmsupintheair,glaredoutintotheaudienceasIbeltedoutthechorus.
“Heckyeah,”Mr.Davidsoncheered.
IdidoncehavearoutineIusedtodotothissongwhenIwastwelve,whichIknittedintomyacappellarenditionformyaudition.Itincludedasetofsplitsonthesecondchorus,whichIthinksurprisedeveryoneintheroom.
ButnotasmuchasthebackflipIsavedforthefinalmove.
Yeah,that’sright,Greenville.Icanbackflip.
AfterthatIwentrightintomymonologue,whichIswitchedupaswell.IdidRomeo’smonologuefromRomeoandJuliet.Whythatwasinmybrain,Idon’tknow.But“Butsoft,whatlightfromyonderwindowbreaks,”justseemedlikealegitfollow-uptoGloriaGaynor.
Thewholethingwaslikethisbeautifulcarouselride.Ididn’thavetothinkatall.Ijustleteverythingcomeout.IwascompletelyandtotallymeinGreenville.
Miracle.
Mr.Davidson’sapplauseboomedoutovertheauditoriumagainasIblinkedandrealizeditwasover.“Verynice,Anne.Veryinterestingchoices.Bravo!”Helookedathisnotes.“Gilly?You’reupnext.”
Ifloatedoffthestagelikeatinydiscocloud,bumpingintoGillyonmywayup.
“Youwereawesome,”shesaidquietly.
“Thanks.”Ibeamed.“Breakaleg!”
Gillylookedreallynervous.Onthestage,sheshiftedaroundlikeshewastryingtogetoutofthelight.
“I’mgoingto,um,alsoread,um,ascenefrom,um,RomeoandJuliet.TheJulietpart.I’mnotsinging.BecauseIdon’twanttosing.Ifthat’sokay.”
“Soundsgood.”Mr.Davidsonnodded.“Wheneveryou’reready.”
Sheturnedherfaceawayfromthelight.Andletoutalongsighasshetiltedherhead.Sheclaspedherhandstogether.Thensheclosedhereyesandliftedherchin.“ORomeo,Romeo!WhereforeartthouRomeo?”
Therewassomethingabouther,standinginthespotlight.MaybebecauseGillywasalwaysturningherheadaway,orlookingdown,therewassomethingaboutseeingherwholefacelitup.Likeshewassuddenlythere.LikeIcouldseehowscaredshewas,butshewashanginginthere.
LikehowJulietisstandingthere,hopingforthisimpossiblethingtohappenintheplay.Evenifthatthingshehopeswillhappenwillbetheendofapartofherthatusedtofeelsafe.
Itwasreallygood!
Ileanedforwardinmyseat.
Herhandsflutteredbyhersidestillsheheldthemtogether.Likeshewassteadyingacreature.Hervoicetrembled,buthereyeswerewideandsearching.
Andthen,Icouldswear,shelookedrightatme.
“Romeo,doffthyname,andforthatname,whichisnopartofthee,Takeallmyself.”
Imean.Maybebecauseweweredoingtwopartsfromthesameplay?Or?
But,yeah,I’m99percentsureshelookedrightatme.Butthenshelookedupacrossthefieldofseats,andsuddenlyIwashavingaheartattack?
“Lovely!”Mr.DavidsonholleredwhenGillyloweredherheadonherlastline.“Justlovely,Gilly.Thankyou.”
Inaflash,likeshe’dbeenreleased,Gillyhoppedoffthestageanddisappearedoutthedoortothehall,herhairswishingbehindher.
Andjustlikethat,myverystrangeheartdidalittletwirlinmychest.Fortheonepersonitshouldnotbedoinganymovesforwhatsoever,Gilly.
IwillsayGreenvilleHighhadwaymoresolidtheaterperformersthanIwouldhaveoriginallythought,whichismyprejudice,obviously.TherewasakidnamedTaylorMackenziewhobroughthisdrumfrommarchingbanduponstage,andhewasamazing.TherewasagirlnamedMinnie,who,didIdetectsomeexcessiveartfuleyeliner?Whorequestedtobea“non-humanpartifpossible.”AndakidnamedBrandon,whowasatleastsixfoottwowhodidasolidbitfromGlengarryGlenRossandrequestedthepartofanoldmaniftherewasone.
Suchinterestingchoices!
IsatruminatingonthisawesomenessuntilthetheaterwasemptyexceptformeandMr.Davidson.Justthetwoturtlenecks.
“Anne.”Mr.Davidsonsmiledinthedark.“Lovelyjobtoday.”
“Thanks.”IgrabbedmybagandspottedBerryatthebackoftheroom,wavingjubilantly.Hadshesnuckintoseemyaudition?Aw!
“GloriaGaynor.”Mr.Davidsonputhishandsonhiships.“Areyouadiscofan?”
“Sortof,”Iadmitted,turningbacktosmileatMr.Davidson.“Inthatit’skindofmylife.”
Davidsontappedhisclipboard.“Idohaveathought,abouttheplay,I’dliketorunbyyou.”
“Okay.”
“Howdoyoufeelaboutflying?”THIRTEEN
MyfirstcrushwasonthewickedstepmotherintheoriginalanimatedSnowWhitemovie.
Notthedirectionyouthoughtthiswasgoing?
Yeah,obviouslymymomswereprettydevastatedwhentheylearnedthatmyobsessionwithwatchingthemovieoverandoverwasnotbecauseofthestereotypicalheartthrobthatisthePrinceguyorSnowWhite(eitherofwhichwouldhavebeenfinewiththem).
IrememberdistinctlyMillieleaningforwardandpressingpauseontheDVDasIsatonmyblanket,eyesaninchfromthescreen.“Wait,”shegasped.“Whodidyousayis‘nice’?”
Ipointed.“Theladywiththehat.”
Actually,itwasacowl.
“Well,that’sfine,”Lucysaid,sittingbackonthecouchandpattingMillie’shand,“shecanlikethe…mother.”
“Wickedwitch,huh?”Millieshookherhead.“Goodluckwiththat.”
Thecharacter’snamewasLucille,andshetookmylittlesix-year-oldheartcaptiveevenassheplottedtokillSnowWhitebecauseshewassojealousofherstepchild’syouthandbeauty.
Ithinkwhenmycrushdidn’tpass,likemonthslaterwhenIwasstillinsistingonwatchingandrewindingthatpartofthemovie,Lucystartedfeelinglikemaybeitwasasmudgeontheirparentingrecord.Milliefinallybannedthemoviefrommovienight.SoIbroketheDVDoutoftheliquorcabinetwherethey’dstasheditandwatcheditonmycomputerinmyroom.
Theheartwantswhatitwants.
Ican’treallyexplainitmyself.Evennow.Ijustthoughtshewasbeautiful.Thewholecowlthing.Theruby-redlips.MaybeIalsothoughtIcouldchangeher.
Likeifthere’saversionofSnowWhitewhereshemeetsthisreallycharmingyoungwaifinthewoods(withorangehair)andtheirfallinginloveshowsLucilletheerrorofherwaysandsheleavesthatstupidmirrorandcastlebehindandsheandthewaifliveinthewoodshappilyeverafter?
Yeah.Iguessit’sprettyweird.Nevermind.Let’snevermakethatmovie.
AfterthatIfellinlovewithKatieSimpson,whowasinmyGirlScouttroopinfourthgrade.Whichdidn’treallyleadtoanythingbutanextrayearofscoutswhenIwasabouttoquit.ThenIfellheadoverheelsforDarlaHammersmith,whosatintheseatinfrontofmeinfifthgradewhenwelivedinOhio.DarlaHammersmith,whoneverknewwhoIwasdespitethefactthathersmilehauntedmydreamsandIboughtheramultitoolforherbirthdaythatherparentslaterconfiscatedbecause,apparently,it’sreallyjustabunchofsmallknives.
IchangedwhatIateforbreakfastforayearbecauseIsawDarlaHammersmitheatingagranolabaronceonthewaytoschoolandtriedtoeatthesamegranolabarinsteadoftoastlikeanormalpersonbecauseIhadthisideaonedaywewouldwalkinthedooratthesametimetogetherandIwouldpointatherbarandsay,“Hey,samebar!”
Itneverhappened.
Granolabarssuck.
MilliesaysIfallinlovewithunattainablegirlswithlonghair.
“Notagreatidea,”shesays,everytimeithappens.“Notthelonghairbit,obviously.YouknowwhatImean.”
MyfirstkisswaswithagirlImetatcampwhohadlonghair,butwasalsoreallycoolandhernamewasZoey.Shehadlongredhairandfrecklesandweusedtocanoetogether.AndthenonthelastdayofcampIworkedupthenervetotellherIlikedherintheboathouse.Andshekissedme.AndthenshewenthometoIdahoandfellinlovewiththisgirlsheplayedsoccerwith.Whichsheemailedmeabout.
Westillwriteactually,Zoey’sreallycool.
Look.
Ihavenocurrentinterestintheevilwitchofmyyouthfuldesires.Igetthatbeingsomeonewhoonlytalkstomirrorsthatareforcedtobecomplimentarytoyou,andplottingtodestroyyourstepchildrenwithapplesareterrible(criminal)qualities.
Idon’twanttolikepeoplewhoarenotgoodpeople.
IfeellikeI’vesaidthisalready,butreallywhatIwantismytruetrue.Okay?IwantsomeoneIlikewhogetsme,andwholikesmebackandgetsme.Allofit.
Iwasalmost100percentcertainthatwasn’tgoingtohappeninGreenville.
OrwithGilly.
Considertheevidencefortheprosecution.Gillywasbestfriendswithpeoplewhohadbeenactively,like,racistandsexistagainstme.Likeherfriendshadbasically,inherpresence,goneoutoftheirwaytodoandsayreallyshittythingstome.Thingsthatshehadhelpedmakehappen(seeexhibitAofhercominguptomeonthesoccerfieldandencouragingmetosignupforauditions)!
Evidenceforthedefense?IthoughtitwaspossiblethatwhenshewasgivingherRomeoandJulietauditionmonologue,shelookedatmeintheaudience.LikeIwasherRomeo.Andshesaidsomethingnicetomeafterherfriendtrippedme.
But(theprosecutionbuttsinrudely)shedidn’tspeakupandtellMr.DavidsonthatitwasTannerwhotrippedmewhenheclearlydid.
Theprosecutionrests.
Soofcourse,thefirstpersonIwalkrightintoonmywayintoschoolthenextdayisGilly.LikeIopenedthedoorandstartedlookingleftandrighttoavoidGillyandthenIliterallyslammedrightintohersohardIknockedherdownlikeatree.ItmusthavelookedonpurposebecauseGillylookedatmefromthegroundlikeI’dKO’dherinaboxingring.
“Um,OW.”Shefrowned,pullingherselfup.
“HOLYCRAPI’MSOSORRY!”Igushed.
Gilly’sfaceturnedbeetred.“It’sokay,”shemumbled,grabbingherbagandunfoldingherselfsoshecouldstand.
Iwasn’tsureifthatmeant,like,“helpmeup”or“goaway,”soIjuststoodtherelikeatrueRomeoandwatchedhergettoherfeet,atwhichpointshejettedofflikearocketjustintimeforBerrytowalkupbehindmeandscarethecrapoutofme.
“Anne—”
“AH!”
“AH!”Berrytensedupinacoil.“What’sgoingon?”
“IjusthitGilly.Imean,”Isputtered.“GillywashereandIrammedher.Imean.Bumped.Intoher.Byaccident.Iwalkedup—Imeaninto.Gilly.”
“Oh.”Berrypulledherknapsackuponhershoulder.“Okay.Um.Well.Issheokay?”
“Sheis!Ithink.”Ilookeddownthehallway.“Itwasanaccident.”
MybrainfollowedGillydownthehall.Wassheokay?DidshethinkthatIhitheronpurposebecauseoftheTannerthing?
Wassheeventhinkingaboutme?
“Okay,”Berrysaid.Waitingformetoturnontoanactualsubjectofconversationpossibly.“So.Anymorewordontheaudition?”
“Notyet.”Ishrugged,stilllookingdownthehallway.
ProbablyGillywasokay,right?
“WhatdoyouthinkDavidsonmeantwhenheaskedhowyoufeltaboutflying?”
“Imeanit’snotexactlyastandardpost-auditionquestion….”
Berrytriedtofollowmygazetonowhere.“ImeanIwonderifhe’lljustdoOurTownagain.It’skindofthesaferchoicealthoughthere’snoflyinginit,”shesaid.
“Iguess,”Isaid.
DidGillythinkIwasanasshole?wasprobablymorethequestion.
“Okay,well,so!”Berryraisedafinger.“Speakingofflight!Thisweekend.Iwasthinkingsuperheromoviemarathon.Sinceyousaidyouhadn’twatchedanyMarvelmovies,whichisinsane.”
Imean,wasIanasshole?
“Sure,”Isaid.“ImayhavewatchedONEofthem.Ithink.IsawWonderWoman.”
“That’snotMarvel.”Berryfrowned.
“Okay,well,whatever.”Istartedwalkingtohomeroom.“Wecanwatchwhatever.”
Likerightnow,Ithought,amIbeinganassholerightnow?ThinkingaboutGilly?WhyamIthinkingaboutGilly???InfrontofBerry.Whowastalkingtome.Aboutwhat,exactly,I’dalreadylosttrackof.
Berrysteppedinfrontofme,suddenlyserious.“MarvelistheX-Men,it’stheAvengers.Superman,WonderWoman,Batman,that’sDC.Gotit?”
“Sure.”Itriedtolookinterested.“Right.Gotit.”
IwatchedthecornersofBerry’slipsturndown.“Okay,well,whatever.”Sheturnedandcontinueddownthehall.“Orwecanwatchanoldmovie.Ifyouwant.”
Ishookmyhead.Likeseriously,herewasapersonwhowasactuallytryingtobenicetome.ButIcouldn’tthinkstraightenoughtocomeupwithsomethingtosay,soinsteadIjustsaid,“Sure.”
Insidehomeroom,Tannerspunhissoccerballonthedesk,lettingitcusptheedgebeforepullingitbackwiththetipsofhisfingers.Gilly’seyesflickeredupwardwhenIwalkedintotheroom,butthensettledonthebookonherdesk.Herhairpoolednexttoherfingersonthepages.
IalmostmissedmychairwhenIwenttositdown,butIsaveditwithasortofdramaticarms-outmovethatonlyBerrynoticed.
“Areyouokay?”
“Youaskmethatalot,”Isaid,beforeIthoughtaboutwhatthatwouldsoundlike.
Berry’seyebrowswentup.“Okay.Sorry.”
“Crap.”Ifrowned.“Sorry.I’mjustlike,notmyselftoday.Fordifferentreasonsthanusual.LikenotwhiteT-shirtreasons?”
Berrynodded,somehowunderstandingaphraselike“whiteT-shirtreasons.”
Thatdaymyoutfitwasmostlypurple,becauseI’drealizedinallmyorange-and-greenSpiritDayenthusiasmI’dcompletelyignoredmylilac-and-orangevibes.SoIwaswearingapurplecorduroyjumperwithaverypuffyvintageorangeblouse,baby-blueleggingsandgoldboots.Ilookedlikeabackupdancerfromaseventieskidsshow.Whichwasjustformetoappreciate.
Gilly,absorbedinherbook,reachedupandstartedtwistingherhairaroundherfinger.
“Anne?!”Berrylookedatmefromherseat.“Iaskedyou.Aquestion?”
“Right,”Isaid,embarrassed.“Whatwas—uh,thequestion?”
“Geez,nevermind.”Berryfrowned,pickingupherbooks.Herhandswerecoveredinyellowspotsofpaint.“I’llseeyoulater.”
“Whereareyougoing?”
“Dentist?”Berry’slipspressedintoahardline.“Ijusttoldyou?”
Right.
FortherestofthedayhalfmybrainarguedaboutGillyandhalfmybraindiditsbesttogetmethroughtheday.Whichdidnotworkoutgreat.Apparentlyhighschoolrequiresawholebrain.
Highlightsincluded:
SpendingmostofEnglishclasswithmymathtextbooksopenonmydesk.
Walkingintothewrongclassroomforsecondperiod.
WritingonthewhiteboardinregularmarkerinBiology.
You’relike,“Ohthat’snotsobad.”
Butwait.There’smore.
InHistory,becauseweweremovingdesksaroundandchangingseats,Ireachedtograbachair…
AndyankedsaidchairrightoutfromunderGilly’sbutt.
LikeIhadsomesortofvendetta.AgainstGilly’sbutt.
Shewentdownlikeabagofbricks,ifabagofbrickscouldfallonitsass.
Gillylookedupwithwideeyes.ThistimelikeactuallythinkingmaybeIwasouttodestroyher.ThistimeIdidreachdown.
“OhmyCRAP,Gilly,I’msosorry.”
“WhattheFUCK?”Ahandgrabbedmebythebackofmyjumper.ItwasSarah.WhoIweirdlyhadn’tevennoticeduntilthatclass.“Whatthefuckareyoudoing??”
“Itwasan…anaccident,”Istammered,wrenchingmyselffreeasGillystruggledtoherfeetonceagain.“Iwastryingtogetachair!”
“Allright,”Mr.Keeper,wholookedlikeateakettle,steppedinwithhisarmsoutlikeaplow.“Everyonetaketheirseats.Oraseat.”
“ShegrabbedGilly’schair!”Sarahscreeched.“Gillyis,like,fallen.”
“Itwasanaccident!”Iscreechedback.
“TAKE!YOUR!SEATS!”Keeperbellowed.“NOW!”
Itprobablywasn’tpossibletomessupthedayanyworse,butIwasconsideringskippingChemistry,whichwasmylastperiod.IthoughtitwasentirelypossiblethatifIwentanywherenearsomethingflammable,Imightblowupmyself—possiblyGilly,andpossiblytheschool.
Notonpurposeobviously.Thisisn’tHeathers
IkeptturningtomyrighttosaysomethingtoBerry,butshewasn’tthere.Damndentist.
Also,whogoestothedentistafterhomeroom?Medicalappointmentsaredesignedforallowingteenagerstoskipschool.
Butthenmaybeitwasgoodshewasn’tthere,becauseclearlyIwasonadestructivepathandwhoknewwhoelsewouldendupontheirassbeforeIwasthrough?
Myplanforsecond-to-lastperiod,Gym,wastofakeacrampinthefirstfiveminutesandthenspendtherestoftheperiodonthesidelines.
Whichwasagreatplan.
AndapparentlyGilly’splanaswell,asIwalkedupintothebleacherstofindheralreadysittingthere,armswrappedaroundherstomachintheuniversalsignfor“Idon’tfeelwell.”Shewassittingslightlyaskew,soshewasleaningmoreonherleftcheek.
Because,clearly,she’dtakenaprettysolidhittoherrightcheek.Careofme.
MaybeIwasthevillaininthiscrushsituation.Don’tvillainshappenwhenpeoplefallforpeoplewhodon’tactuallylikethem?
Isthatwhatwashappening?Crush?Me?
“Hey!”Ilookedaround.“Uh.Hi.”
Greatopener,Anne.
“Hey.”Gillyshiftedsoshewassittingstraight.Butitwasclearlynotcomfortable.
“IsitokayifIsitthere?”Ipointedattherowbehindher.
Gillylookedaroundtheentirelyemptybleachers.“Sure.Freebleachers.”
ItookaseatbehindandtotherightofGilly,becausesittingrightbehindsomeoneinahugesetofseatsisclearlyveryweird.ButIcouldstilllookatherback,whichIobviouslydidinacoolno-one-else-would-noticekindofway.
Gillyhasalong,straightback.Shesatstillandstraightformostoftheclass,Iassumewatchingtheotherstudentsrunningcircles.Herhairstucktohershirt,whichhadalittleripintheneck.Alsoshehasalongneck.It’s,like,agracefulneck,actually.
Okay,stop.
ItriedtothinkoftheperfectandappropriatethingtosaytoGilly.Thethingthatwouldencapsulateallmyconcernsandargumentsandthoughtsandtheories.AthingIcouldsaythatwouldstoptheFerriswheelofadayIwashaving.
“SorryImadeyoufallonyourbutt,”Ifinallymanaged.
“Twice,”Gillysaid,notturningaround.
“Yeah.Twice,”Inoted.“So.Sorrytwice,I,like,WileE.Coyote’dyou.”
IthoughtIheardatinysnortfromGilly,butitcouldhavebeenthecrackofsomeonekickingthesoccerballonthefield.Acoolbreezeblewupthestands,sendingthesmellofwhatIguessedwasGilly’sshampooupintomyface.
“Hey,”shesaid.
“Yeah?”
“I’msorryaboutthatthinginthesoccerfield.And—”
ThestandsbouncedasTannerstrodeover,alonglopingstridedesignedformaximumbleacherjostle.Hissoccerjerseyclungtohischest.Hemusthaverunover.
“Hey!Gilly!Yourmom’sheretotakeyouhome,”hehollered.
“Oh.”Gillyswiveled.“Okay.Thanks.”
Shesoundedannoyed.
Tannerstormedcloser.“Isaid—”
“Igotit,Tanner.”Gillystoodup.
Tannerjoggedcloser.PuthisfootupontheendofthebenchIwassittingon.Gaveitashake.
“Watchyourback.YougotNewGirlonarevengestreaknow.”Tannersquintedatme.“Youhurtmyfriendagain,NewGirl,I’llbreakyouintwo.”
“Shutup,Tanner,”Gillyhissed,stormingpasthim.“Comeon.”
TannergavethebleachersanotherbounceforgoodmeasurebeforefollowingGilly.
Evidencefortheprosecution?
GillyisfriendswithTanner.
AsIchangedbackintoregularclothes,myphonestartedbuzzinglikeitwasabouttoexplode.
BERRY
ANNNNNEEEE
ANNE
HEY!Haveyoubeenatthedentistthiswholetime?
BERRY
Ijustgotback!
ANNE
Nexttimeyoushouldskipthewholeday!
Imean,truly,ifBerrydidnotunderstandthejoyofalegitreasontoskipschool,itwasatleastmyjobasafriendtoexplain….
BERRY
THELIST!
BERRY
THELISTISUP!
ANNE
WHERERU?!
BERRY
EASTWING!!!
Isteppedoutintothehallway,whereIwasgreetedbywhatIwasprettysurewasashriekfromSarahPyeechoingdownthehalllikeafirealarm.
“ANNE!”Berryrantowardme,eyeswide.Shegrabbedmyhand.“LET’SGO!”
TherewasaserioushubbubcomingfromabundleofstudentsallpackedaroundasmallspotonthewallnexttoMr.Davidson’sdoor.TheentirehubbubofstudentsturnedaswegotclosetoDavidson’sclassroom.
“WHATTHEHELL?!”Sarahscreamedassheshovedherwayoutofthegroup,lookinglikeacartoonbullwithhertinyponytailsandclearfury;shestormedrightuptometillshewas,Iwouldsay,aninchfrommyface.CloseenoughthatIcouldtellSarahwasheatedandshe’dhadPBJforlunch.
(AlsohowdidshealwaysgetoutofGymsofast?)
“FUCKYOU!”
“WHOA,”someonefromthegroupbehindherweighedin.
“Fuckmeforwhat?”Isnapped.
“Youthinkyoucanjustcomehere.Andjust.COMEINHEREAND—”Andthensheturnedandrandownthehallway,herponytailsbobbingbehindher.“FUCKYOU,ANNESHIRLEY!”
Bythen,Berrywaspullingmeintothelumpofteenagerstillwewerecloseenoughtoseetheheartofthematter.ThelistofthecastfortheupcomingGreenvilleHighproductionofPeterPan
PeterPan!
“Huh.”
IlegitthoughtitwouldbeOurTown.MaybebecauseBerrywasdreadingit.
“Anne,”Berrysqueaked.“Lookatthetop!LookattheNAMES!”
Thereitwas,myname,atthetop.
“It’sme,”Igasped.“I’m…Peter?I’mPeterPan?”
“Iknewyoucoulddoit!”Berry’seyesgrewwideasshegrabbedmebytheshoulders.“You’retheLEAD!”
“Anneisthelead?”someoneinthegroupexclaimed.
“Anneisthelead.”Afacepokedoutofthecrowd.ItwasMinnie,thegirlwhowantedtobeanon-human,gushing,“AndI’mTINKERBELL!”
“I’mtheDOG!”Theguywiththedrumsfromauditionsdidafistpump.
“ANNEISPETERPAN!”Berrycheered.
Sowisheswerejustcomingtrueallover.FOURTEEN
BerryandIcelebratedbywatchingwhatIthoughtwasafairlyokaymovieaboutIronManthatstillneededwaymorewomeninit.Berryagreedandsaiditwasonlyherthirdfavoriteseries.
MilliehelpeduscelebratebyorderingusChinesefoodandspecificallyorderingmemyveryownporkfriedrice,whichIwouldproceedtoconsumeinsmalldosesforthenextseveraldays.
“Waytogo,kid,”shesaid,handingmeasetofchopsticks.
“I’mPan!”
“Imean,yes,youare.”Millienodded.
“Like,perfectroleforaspritelypersonlikemyself.”
“Iwasjustthinkingthat.”
Lucyeventuallygothomefromschoolandcameuptomyroomtocongratulateme.
“Mr.Davidsonsaidyoustoletheshow,”shesaid,givingmeasqueeze.
“IsangGloriaGaynor.”
“Didyou?”Lucysatbackonthebed.“Youknowwholovedthatsong?Yourgrandma.”
“Youknowwhoelselovesthatsong?YouandMillie.It’sagreatsong.”
“Youknowweplayedthatsongatourwedding.”
“Ihadn’theardthat,”Iadded,mocking.BecauseofcourseI’dheardthatstoryathousandtimes.MaybemoretimesthanI’devenheardthesong.
“Stop.”LucygavemealightshoveandIfloppedbackontothebed.Shescoocheddownonthequilt,whereBjornwascurledupandsnoozing.“Thisisprettyhard,huh?ThisGreenville.”
“It’snoteasy,”Iagreed.
“Toohard?”Lucy’svoicegotsmaller.“Anne?”
“No.”Isatup.“Justhardenough.Sofar.Toohardforyou?”
“Well,let’ssayPrincipalLyndeisn’texactlymyfaneither,andthePTAwantsaconstantupdateoneveryemailandmemoIsend,andthey’reallconvincedI’mgoingtocancelsoccerandturnthewholeschoolintoapornographicartgallery.”Lucytookabreath.“Butno.Nottoohard.”
“Good.”Inodded.“DidItellyouIgettobePeterPan?”
“Youdid.”Lucygavemeaseriousface.“Anne.We’lltelleachotherifitgetstoohard,right?”
“Right,”Isaid,notthatIwassurewhat“toohard”wouldmean.
WasGreenvillegettingharder?Maybenot.Wasitgettingbetter?
ImeanIhadapartdoingtheonethingIlovedmorethanalmostanythingexceptmydog,myparents,roller-skating,anddisco.Ididnotexpecteveryonetobehappyformeandmyaccomplishmentofpullingoffwhatwasobviouslyaprettystunningaudition.
Atthesametime,gettingthepartmeantspendingmoretimewiththeForevers.Sarah,Tanner,Gilly,andJohnhadallgottenparts.SarahwascastasWendy,apartshecouldprobablywearherOurTowndressfor.TannerwasCaptainHook,whichwasajuicierpartthanhedeserved,butthenagainhedidhaveaprettydecentaudition.JohnwasgoingtobeSmee,which,again,isaprettysolidrole,andhisauditionwasokaytoo.GillywasoneoftheLostKids(akatheLostBoysintheoriginal).
ThenextdayIfeltaweirdstaticintheairassoonasIopenedmylockerandnoticedthatSarahandTannerwerelookingatmefromtheothersideofthehallway.
“Hey!”Berrybounceduptome.“What’sgoingon?”
“Justcheckingoutthesalt-and-pepperharbingersofdoom,”Ianswered.
Berrylookedoverhershoulder,notentirelycovertly.“Ugh.”
Inhomeroom,Mrs.Shermanshowedupinaturtleneckthatmademerethinkmyturtleneck.Itreallyissuchaprecariousthing,theturtleneck.Mrs.Shermanlookedlikeanactualturtleinhers,partlybecauseitwasakindofavocado-greenputtylikecolorthatdidn’tgowithherskintone.
That’snotmejudging,althoughLucywouldsayitsortofwas.
ItwasEnglishclasswhenthestaticsourcewasfinallyrevealed—Sarahputupherhandand,beforeMr.Davidsoncouldcallhername,rosefromherseat.
“Ihavesomethingtosay,Mr.Davidson.”
“Isitaboutthepoemwe’rereading?”Mr.Davidsonleanedonhisdesk.Hewaswearingcowboybootsthatday.Alsoaninterestingchoice.
“No,”Sarahsaid,holdingupherchin.“It’sabout…theplay.”
“Well.”Mr.Davidsonputhisbookdownonthedesk.“Perhapswecanmakeitquick,then,ortalkaboutitaftercla—”
“Iwantedtosay”—Sarahplacedherhandsonthedesk,thenonherhips—“IwantedtosaythatIthinkthatit’sinappropriate,theplayyouchose.”
“PeterPan?”Mr.DavidsonloweredhischintopeeratSarahoverhisglasses.“YouthinkPeterPanisinappropriate?”
“Ithink,wenormallydoplaysthatareabout,like,us,andourtown,andwhoweare.Andnow,forlikenoreason,it’slikeyou’redoingthisgayplay.”
Justasanaside.Growingupwithqueermoms,IknowaboutalmostallLGBTQIAthings.AndJ.M.Barrie,whowrotePeterPan,wasn’tgay.Idon’tknowifthat’swhatqualifiessomethingasagayplay,buthewasn’t.
“PeterPan”—Mr.Davidsonclearedhisthroat—“isnotagayplay,Sarah.Imean,thereisnothingwrongobviously,withagay—”
“Agirlisplayingthelead,”Sarahsaid,“whichissupposedtobeaboy.”
Mr.Davidsonstraightened.Ateachablemoment.
“Inthetraditionoftheater,infactifyouseemostofthebroadcastproductionsofPeterPan,thepartofPeterisplayedbymenandwomen.”
Andcouldbeplayedbyanyoneinbetween,FYI,butIcouldseeMr.Davidsonwastryingtomakeasingularpoint.
“Thistown”—Sarah’svoicegothighandreedy—“thistownhasalwaysbeen—Wehavealwaysdone,like,traditionalplaysandnow,like,justbecauseMrs.Shirley’stheviceprincipal,andAnneishere,it’slike—”
Sarah’seyesflickeredinmydirection.“It’slikethere’sanagendanow.”
“Well.”Mr.Davidsonstoodandpickeduphisbookwithasharpflick.“Iunderstandthatthoseareyourthoughts.Thereisnoagendaobviously—”
“Well.”Sarah’schinshiftedupanotch.“Iamgoingtolodgeacomplaint.”
AlongslowsighexpelledfromBerry’slips.
Irealizedmyhandswereclenchedundermydesksotighttheywerestartingtocramp.
Anagendacomplaint???
“Ofcourse,youarefreetodoso.”Mr.Davidsonnodded.“Thankyou,Sarah.”
Sarahlookedaroundtheclassroom,hereyesskimmingovermy(probablyveryred)face,andprimlyloweredherselfintoherseat.Tannergaveherapunchintheshoulderandshesmiled.Gillylookedatherdesk.
Imadesuretobethefirstoutthedoorwhenthebellrang,withBerryclosebehind.Notthatshesaidanything.Maybebecausemybodywastickinglikeatimebomb.
Ichanged,like,lightningfastandtookasisolatedapositionasIcouldonthesoccerfield.
SarahPye.
Wasanignorantasshole.
Whowantedtobetheleadinaschoolplaymorethananythingelseintheworld,clearly,butalsoknewnothingabouttheater!
Asthegameworeon,Iwatchedherjoggingaroundthefield,hertwinpigtailsbouncingnexttoherface.Shelookedlikeshewasdancingaroundthegrasswithjoy.
Thejoyofbeingajerk,Ifumed.
Wasshereallygoingtocomplain?Ijoggedovertowardthegoalienet.
“Hey.”Berrywavedfromherpost.“Surviving?”
“Whatdoyouthinkaboutgettinginyourcarandjustdrivingreallyreallyfarawayfromhere?”Ioffered.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Wherearewegoing?”
“Theocean?Shopping?Something?Broadway?”
“Forhowlongarewegoing?”Berryasked,hereyesdartingbetweenmeandtheactiononthefield.“Broadwayisprettyfar.”
“Wecouldbegoneanywherebetweenthenextthreehoursandforever.”Isighed.
Beforeshecouldanswer,theballcamerollingupthefieldandIhadtogetoutofthewaytoletBerrydoherthing.
Iwas,albeitmaybekindofstrangely,strollingawayfromthenetwhenIfeltwhatfeltlikeabombgooffatthebackofmyhead.AndthenextthingIknewIhadamouthfulofgrassandtherewasthesoundoffootstepsthunderingontheground.
Iopenedmyeyesandsawagiantblurofblackandwhiteonlyinchesfrommyface.Ireachedoutandpokedtheblurwithmyfinger.Itrolledaway.
“ANNE!”Berryscreamed.
SuddenlyIwassurroundedbyahiveofvoices,includingCoachHarras,blessher,whodecidedthebestwaytodealwiththesituationwastoblowherwhistleaninchfrommyear.“ALLRIGHT,WHAT’SGOINGON?!”
“Anne?”Ifeltahandonmyarm.Lookedandsawasplatterofpinkpaint.“Ohmygosh.Anne.Crap!”
FinallyHarrasspatoutherwhistle,possiblybecausebythenthewholeclasshadcircledaroundmelikewewereabouttodosomesortoftrustgame,whileBerrytriedtohelpmetomyfeet.
“Whathappened?”CoachHarrasspat.
“Theballcamerightforherhead!”Berryfumedasmybodywobbled,andIthoughtaboutspittingthegrassinmymouthout.“Someonekickeditrightatherhead.”
“Who?”Harraspickedupherwhistleandpincheditbetweenherfingers.“Whokickedtheball?”
SuddenlyGilly’sfaceswamintoview,likeaballoononasummerbreeze.
“Sarah,”Gillysaid.“ItwasSarah.”
SarahstormeduptoGilly.“WHAT?!”
BerrylookedfromGillytome,herheartbeatingsohardIcouldfeelitinherarmsassheheldmeupandtighter.Mybrainwasstillbumpingaroundinmyskull.
“Isawit.”Gillylookedatme.
“FUCKYOU,GILLY!”
“Sarah!”Harrasblewherwhistle,entirelyunnecessarily,fortheumpteenthtime.Iwasreadytothrowasoccerballatherhead,TBH.
“Ididn’tdoanything,”Sarahspatback.“Ididn’tevenseeAnnewasthere,Gilly.”
Somethingwasticklingmychin.Ireachedupandtouchedit,thinkingitwouldbeabladeofgrass.Butit…wasnot.
“Blood.”Thewordslippedoutofmylips.
Itglistenedinthesun.Myblood.Ruby.Red.
Ilookeddownandwatcheditdripontothetoeofmysneaker.Red.And…
“What?”Berryleanedin.
“Blooooo—”
IgrabbedBerry’shandsoshewouldhavetheprivilegeofbeingpulleddowntothegroundwithmeasIpassedout.
ThenextthingIrememberwassittinginthenurse’soffice.Whichlookedlikeeverynurse’sofficeI’deverseenexcepttherewerelotsofpicturesofbordercolliesonthewall.Six.Sixisalot.Nottoomany,though.Let’ssaythat.
Thenursewasanicewomanwithapileofwhitehaironherhead,sittingnexttomeandsmilingandholdingajuicebox.
“Notsogreatwithblood?”sheasked.
“Notamazing,”Isaid.
“I’mNurseDenim,”shesaid,“butyoucancallmeSissy.”
“Hi,Sissy,”Isaid.Mylipsstilltastedlikeblood,makingmeswoonalittle.“I’mAnne.I’mnotgoodwithblood.”
“Soyousay.”Sissysmiled.“You’reVicePrincipalLucy’sgirl.”
“That’sme.”
“I’mgoingtogetyouacoldcompressforyourlip,butit’saprettysmallsplit,”Sissysaid.“Youstayput.Ithinkyourmotherwillbecomingtocheckonyou.”
TherewasaclickinginthehallwayfollowedbytherushofLucyinhersuitflyingintotheroom.“Anne!”
“She’sfine,”Sissycalledfromtheotherroom.“Justalittlecut!Themouthhealsveryquickly!”
“Soccerinjury.”Mysmilewasmostlylipandmostlynumb.“Myfirst!”
Lucyfrowned.“Iheard,fromMr.Davidson,whathappened.Thatastudentcomplained.”
“Yeah.”Itappedmytoes.“Well.IguessnoteveryoneisafanofPeterPan.”
“It’s.”Lucy’svoicewassteel.“It’sridiculous.PeterPanisaclassicandthecastingoftheschoolplayishispurview.”
“Ithinktheythinkit’slikeagayagenda,”Itappedmytoessomemore.“Imeanshesaidagenda.SoIfigure.Gay.”
“Well,that’s…”Lucypulledthefrontofhersuitdown.“Asifanyofushastimeforanagendathesedays.I’vespokenwithMr.Davidson.Hesaidyoudidaveryprofessionalaudition,andhe’sveryexcitedforyourperformance.”
“IfIsurvivetoopeningday,”Inoted.
IcouldfeelLucy’seyestakingmein,likeshewasreadingme.ButalsoIcouldfeelherkeepingtrackofSissy,whowasnowhoveringinthedoorway.
“Ice,”Sissysaid,holdingupthepackandasmallcup.“Andsomethingfortheswelling.”
“Thankyou,Sissy,”Lucysaid,takingthecup.
ShewaitedforSissytoleavetheroombeforeturningbacktomeandmylip.
“Oh,Anne.”Lucyhandedmethecup.“DoItakeyououtoftheschool?DoI…DoIbringalltheparentsin?DoI…”
Iwantedtoaskherwhatshethought.IfshethoughtIshouldjustwalkaway.Ifshelovedherjobsomucheventhoughthepeoplehereclearlydidn’tlikehersomuchallthetimeeither.Iwantedtoaskherwhattodo.
But,youknow,Ididn’t.
Wedidn’t,clearly,knowwhattodo.
“No,”Isaid.
Lucygavemeanotherhug.“Okay.”
Ismiledandfeltmylipthrob.“Everythingwillbefine.”
Everythingwillbefineisbothaverycomfortingthingtosayandathingthatanyonewhosaysitmustknowisn’ttrue.
Everythingisanimpossiblething.
SissymademestayforafewmoreminutesafterLucyleft,thendeclaredme“fitasafiddle”andkickedmeoutjustafterthebell.
IlookedforBerry,butshewasgone.
BERRY
Ihavetogohometohelpmydadwithajob!
BERRY
Hopeyou’reok
BERRY
Thatwasbonkers
Thenshemusthavetakenasolidfewminutestosendmeatextthatwasafieldofsoccerballswithalittlesurprisedfaceinthemiddle.
ANNE
YeahI’mok.Split
ANNE
DidyouseeSarahkicktheballatmyhead?
BERRY
No
ANNE
That’swhatGillysaid
BERRY
Yeah
TherewasaspaceofthreedotsappearinganddisappearingasIwalkeddownthehall.
BERRY
Imean,firstshesetsuupwiththesignuplist,thenthis.
ANNE
Yeah
BERRY
Seemsweird
ANNE
Yeah
ANNE
Maybeshe’sjustsickofherterriblefriends
Moredotsappearedanddisappeared.
BERRY
Maybe
BERRY
Youbelieveher?
ANNE
Idon’tknow????
Icollapsedonthesteps.
ANNE
Goinghomeforahundredaspirin
BERRY
OK!
DidBerrynotbelieveGilly?WouldGillylie?IwonderedasIstrappedonmyskates.
BERRY
Ifyoufeelfaintwhenurskating,pulloverandI’llcomeandgetu
ANNE
OK!
ANNE
WhatifIjustfeelreallycool?
BERRY
Thengowithit
WhenIcoastedoutoftheparkinglotthatday,therewasanotherringofpeopleinthelot,whatlookedlikemomsinshortsandsandals,theirheadstippedtogether.FIFTEEN
OnSaturday,Berrytextedthatshehadtohelpherdadcleanthegarage,soshecouldn’tcomeoverandwatchmovies.
Whichfeltlikeaweirdlyfakeexcuse,butthenmaybecleaningthegarageisabigthinginGreenville.Itechnicallyhadtohelpmymomsunpackthekitchen,sincetherewerestillboxesallovertheplace.
Hey,weallhadstufftodo,okay?
ThenLucyendeduphavingtobeattheschoolallday,andMilliehaderrandstorunforaphotoshootshewasplanning.
AndsuddenlyIwasaloneinthehouse.
SoofcourseIgotonthephoneandcalledallmyfriendsandIwaslike,“KEGPARTYATMYHOUSE,EVERYBODY!YAAASSSS!”
Ha-ha.No.
Canyouimagine?No.
No.Iwentdiscoroller-skating.
Which,let’sbeclear,I’dlearnedmylessonatthatpoint.IknewGreenvillewasn’tinterestedinseeingmeperformdiscoclassicsoftheseventiesdowntown.IknewthereweremanythingsGreenvilledidn’twanttowatchmedo:sing,dance,havejoy.Butthatdidn’tmeanIcouldn’tenjoysometunesintheprivacyofmyownheadphonesinconcertwiththewindblowingthroughmyhair.
Itwasadaytobemyownbird,sotospeak.
AndsinceIwasinthemood,andnoonewashome,IthoughtI’dmakeitawholeoccasion.
Whichmeantfashion.
Whichmeantitwastimetopulloutmyfringe.
Fringeisnotessentialfordiscoskating.It’sprobablynotevenrecommendedbecauseit’skindofapaintomaintain(youbasicallyloseaboutahundredstrandsoffringeeverytimeyouputanythingwithfringeon,especiallyifit’sagarmentmadeintheactualseventies,asmineallare).Butifyouhappentohaveafullfringeorangesilkjacketandgreensequinleggingsandyou’vealreadydoneyourEnglishhomework?
Whynot?
AfterIfedMontyandBjorn,Istrappedonmyskatesandheadphones,tiedmyroller-skatingscarf(pinkwithyellowflowers)aroundmyneck,clickedplayonmyfavoriteskatetrack,“YouMakeMeFeel(MightyReal)”bySylvester,theB-sidetohis1978hit,“Dance(DiscoHeat),”andsailedoutthedoor.
Sylvester—whoIthinkwouldhavelovedthisjacket—wasbrieflyamemberoftheSanFranciscodragtroupetheCockettes,agroupofperformanceartistswhodabbledingenderplayandregularplay,beforeleavingtopursue(andachieve)astellarcareerasarecordingartist.
“YouMakeMeFeel(MightyReal)”isthebestsongever.Maybe.Ithink.Probably.TherhythmsthumpedthroughmybodyrighttomyfingertipsasIshotoutthedrivewayandturneddowntheroad.Withafewsolidpumps,Ipickedupspeed.Ispreadmyarmsoutinthewind,feelingthestrandsofmyfringewingsdanceintheair.
IslippedpastGreenvilleresidentswateringtheirlawns.AmaninshortsbehindalawnmowerstoppedtotakeoffhishatandgetagoodstareinasIshotpast.Ididalittleshoottheduckpasttwogirlssittingontheirfrontsteps.
Whynot?
Themusicswitchedto“DoYouWannaFunk?”byPatrickCowleyfeaturingSylvester.
Ididwanttofunk.Whodoesn’t?
Icouldseethesunsparklingonthegold-sequinedwristbandsI’daddedasalast-minutecostumeembellishment.
Therearepeoplewhosayyoushouldtakeoffonethingbeforeyouleavethehouse,outfit-wise.Firstofall,whatkindofvaguesuggestionisthat?Onething?Sotakeoffyourpants?Whatifyoujusttakeoffoneshoe?
Bemorespecific!
Secondofall,Ithinkthat’sadviceforpeoplewhoareafraidofbeingtoomuch.Andonthatday,Iwasbymyself,skating,andhappytobetoomuch.
Iwasn’tinschool.TherewasnoPrincipalLynde,noTannerorSarah,aroundtosayotherwise.
SoIwasgoingtobeVeryAnnethatday.
AndIwashappyaboutit.
Milliehasatheorythatifyouthinkaboutsomeonenotbeingthere,itkindofsummonsthemintoexistence.Likeifyou’rewaitingforthebusandyourealizeyouneedtograbsomethingathomeandyouthink,Oh,Ihopethebusdoesn’tcomeyet,it’ssuretoarrive.
Andso,itwasnotsurprisingthatjustafterIhadthatthought,Iheard,undertheamazingbeatsofmusicinmyears,ahornblastingbehindme.
Ilookedovermyshoulderandspottedabluepickuptruck,itschromenoseblinkinginthesun,acloudofdustkickingupbeneathitswheels.IwasabouttoslowdownwhenIsawtheheadofthepersoninthepassenger’sside,leaningoutthewindow.
EvenfromadistanceIcouldseeitwasTanner,hishandscuppedaroundhismouth,likehewasyellingsomething.
Atme.
WhathewasyellingIcouldn’thearoverthemusic,butIcouldguess.
Ipushedmyheadphonesoffmyearsandtheroarofthetruck’senginegotmuch,muchlouder.Theroadstretchedoutinfrontofme,withnothingbutemptyfieldsoneitherside,exceptforawaysaheadwheretherewasatreeline.
Ibentmyknees,feelingthewobbleofmywheelsasItriedtopickupasmuchspeedasIcouldonGreenville’spothole-riddenroads.AllIcouldhearnowwasthepopofstonesunderrubber,thescratchandgrateofmyvinylwheelsontheroad.
Unfortunatelyatruckisalwaysgoingtobeatrollerskatesintherock-paper-scissorsofwho’sfaster.
BeforeIcouldcatchmybreath,thetruckblastedpastmesocloseIfeltthespraystingofgravelonmylegs,andthewhooshofsomethingelsesailingpastmyears.Whatfeltlikeitcouldhavebeenahand,reachingtowardme.
Withoutthinking,Idoveoffthesideoftheroad,intoasetofwhatIsupposewerebushes—verypricklygreenthingsthatweremorestickthanleaf.Irolled,Iwouldsayathletically(butmaybenot),ontomysideandscrambledtounlacemyskatesasIheardtheburningnoiseofatruckscreechingtoastopontheroad.
Ipickedupaskateineachhandand,carryingthemlikeboxingmitts,toreoffinmystockingedfeetintothetrees.
Iranuntilmyheartexploded,pasttreesandshrubsandthroughsometallgrass,untilthegroundstartedsquinchingundermysocksandIheard,overthesoundofmygaspingbreaths,thetrickleofwhatmusthavebeenacreek.
AtsomepointmyheartpoppedoutofmychestandIstopped,becauseyouwanttostopwhenthathappens.
Iturnedtofacemypursuers.Andtheyweren’tthere.
“Well,fuck,”Igasped,sinkingtotheground.Whichwassurprisinglylush,likesomesortoffairygardentypething,mossyandpillowy.
“Theywantedtoscareme,”Ipanted,talkingtonoone.“I’mokay.Theyjustwantedtoscareme.”
Missionaccomplished.
Iliftedmyfeet.Mysocksweretorntoshreds,butmyfeetwereshockinglyintact,ifthrobbinganddistinctlypinkinhue.Thetrickleofwaterwasclearlycomingfromsomewhereonmyleft.Intheinterestsofasoothingfootbath,Ihobbledinthatdirectionwithmyskatesslungovermyshoulder,untilIfoundthetinystreamofwaterwindingitswaythrougharoadofslimygreenrocks.
Isankdownontheedge,peeledoffmynowfull-of-holessocks,andloweredmyfeettothecoolwaterwithanaudiblesighofreliefonlythecrowsinthetreesheard.Afterafewminutesofthewaterswirlingaroundmytoes,myheartwasfinallybeatingareasonablenumberofbeatsperminute.Ipeeledmywristcuffsoffandshovedtheminmypocket.Loweredmyfingerstodangleinthewateralongwithmyfeet,whichhadstartedtopulse.
“Okay,Greenville,”Igrumbled,“Ihavetosay.Like,don’tbemadbecauseIdon’tthinkIcantakeanymoreofyourwrath,but,okay,I’lladmitit,I’mstartingtogiveuponyou.”
Ilookeduptotheskythroughthetrees.“Don’ttellanyoneelsethis,likedon’ttellLucyorMillieorBerry,butI’m,like,justuptoherewithtryingtogetyoutonothatemeandfeelinglikeeverygoodthingIgetcomeswithsomethinghorrible.Like.Ifeellikeyouowemesomesortofsign.”
Iclarified.“Agoodsign.”
Ipaused.“Okay,Imeanthiscreekisnice.Don’tgetmewrong.Theworldneedswatertolive,Igetthat.ButatthispointIfeellikeitneedstobesomethingbiggerthanjustwaterformyachingfeet.Youknow?LikeIneedsomethingthat’sareasontokeeptrying.Idon’twanttoaskforamiraclebut—”
Therewas,I-swear-to-disco,aperfectlytimedloudsplash,andsuddenlythereitwas,overmyleftshoulder.
Ahorse.
Isthatamiracle?
No.Obviously.Horses,likerivers,arenaturallyoccurringphenomenona.Butthereissomethingpoeticaboutseeingahorsestaringatyouwithitsbigbrowneyes….
Untilyouseethesaddlehangingoffitssidelikeanawkwardfannypackforahorseifhorsesworefannypacks.
Iheldoutatentativehand.
“Hey,buddy,”Isaid,notknowingtowhomIwasspeaking.
Thehorseboweditshead,steppingthroughthewaterandgentlypressingitsnoseintomypalm.Whichhadneverhappenedtomebefore.
NowIhadmymiracle.
Ijustneededtofindtherider.
AndIwasprettysureIknewwhothatwas.SIXTEEN
Horsesarenotlikedogsinwaysthatarebothobviousandkindofannoying.
Likeifitwasadog,Ifeelprettysureyoucouldaskit,“Hey,where’syourmom/dad/owner?Pleasetakemetothem.”AlthoughIdon’tknowifMontywouldtakeyoutome,ifyoufoundhersomewherewanderingonherown.IthinkMontywouldjustwaghertailandlookatyouexpectantlyandthenwalkinacircleandliedown.
AssoonasIreacheduptotakeholdofthereins,thehorsejerkeditsheadlikeI’dinsulteditsfavoritebandandletoutanangrywhinny.
“Okay,okay.Uh,easy.I’mnotgoingtohurtyou.”
AsItookanotherstepforward,thehorsestumbledbackwardagainlikeIwaswavingafirecrackerinitsface.AtwhichpointIrealizedIwaskindofdressedlikeaglitteryflag.
“Igetit,”Isaid,myvoicecalmandquiet.“I’mdressedup.It’sfringe.Noteveryonelikesfringe.”
Iloweredmyarmsandstoodquietandstillforwhatfeltlikehours,untilfinally,Ithinklookingforanapple,thehorsestretcheditsheadouttowardme.SlowlyIreachedoutmyhandandclosedmyfingersaroundthereins.
Iwasagirlwithapairofrollerskatesandahorseandnowheretogo.
AtwhichpointIrealized,becauseI’dbeencallingoutforgoodsigns,thatwhilethishorsefeltalittlefortuitousforme,itwasalso,verypossibly,abadsignforwhoeverwasridinghimbeforeIfoundhimintheriver.
Wait.Him?
Ilooked.
Yep.Him.
“Hey,friend.”Iputmypalmonhisneck,whichwassweaty.“AreyouGilly’shorse?YoulooklikeGilly’shorse.Youwouldn’thappentoknowwheresheis,wouldyou?”
ItwasverydifficulttotellifthelookIgotbackwasamurderouslookoradisinterestedone.LikewhenMontydoessomethingevenslightlybad,youcanseeitinhereyesimmediately.Iguesshorsesarelikecats,thatway;catsbeingthemostduplicitousandhard-to-readcreaturesontheplanet.(Bjorncomesanddemandspatsjustminutesafterbarfingonmybed,andyoucan’ttellatallthathe’sdonesomethingwrong.)
Itookholdofthesaddle,increasinglyoff-kilterasitcontinuedtoslidearoundthehorse’s…waist?Soitwasalmostunderhisbelly.Uponcloserinspection,onestirrupwasunbuckledandlookedlikeithadbeen…pulled.
Lendingalittlebitmorethanabitofworrytothesituation.
“WhereisGilly?Huh,buddy?Youremember?Issheokay?”
Asifoncue,thehorse,akaBuddy,turnedandstartedchargingthroughthewoods,yankingmealongwithhim.AsItriedtokeepupandnotgettrampled,amillionimagesflashedthroughmybrain,noneofthemgood.WhatifGillywaslyingonthegroundwithabrokenneckorsomething?Imean,Ithoughtthisassomeonewhosemother(oroneofthem)isconvincedthatroller-skatingmeansatsomepointI’mgoingtoendupbrainedonthesideoftheroad.
WhichI’dalwaysthought—untiltoday—wasanoverreaction.
Iscannedthedistanceforsignsofareasonforalarm.
Clearingthethickertrees,webrokeoutintoafieldoftallgrass.AtwhichpointIspottedthefirstclue;aloneridingbootinthemud.
Crap.
Icuppedmyhandstomymouth,“GILLY!”
Thehorsepickedupthepace,basicallydraggingmeoverthegrassasIrannexttohim,myheartbeatingasIsearched.
“GIL-LY!GIIIIIIIIIIILLY!”
Adistantvoicecarriedoverthebreeze.“Hello?”
Myfeetsinkingintothemud,Iyankedonthehorse’sreins,whichapparentlyyoushouldn’tdobecausehegavemeareallydirtylook,butstill…
“Gilly?”
“Uh,yeah?”asmallvoicecalledback.“I’mhere!Canyouseeme?”
Atfirstshewasjustalittleblondbumponthehorizonthat,aswegotcloser,becameapersonsittingontheground,likeadollthathadbeendroppedthere.
Shewascoveredindirt;itwasinherhairandonherfaceandcakedonherclothes.Shehadherhelmet,alsocoveredinmud,inherlap,herlegsstretchedout;onesock,oneboot(tomatchtheoneinmyhand).Hereyespeeredoutfromthemud,twolightsofbrilliantblue.
“Hey!”
“Hey!”
“It’sAnne,”Isaid,becauseIamthemostawkward.
“Uh.”Gillysmiledadirt-coveredtiredsmile.“Yeah,Iknow.”
“Um.”Iheldupthehorse’sreins.“Ifoundyourhorse.”
Gillysmiledbigger.“Iseethat.Thanks.”
(IjustwanttopauseherereallyquicklytosaythatIdon’tbuyintodamsel-in-distresstropes.Okay?Iwasraisedbytwoqueerwomen.
Iknowthatthenotionofawomanneedingtobesavedasamotivatorfortheprotagonistisreallyjustcontributingtotheromanticizationofwomenasvictims,andthewholethingtakesawayfromwomen’s,orreallyanyoneotherthanaciswhitemaleprotagonist’s,agency.
Igetthat.)
Anyway!Ijustdidn’twantyoutothinkIwas,like,allhappytoberescuingGilly.
ExceptthatIwasclearlyfeelingjustreallyelated,notjustthatshewasokay,butthatIwasstandingthereandsheneededmyhelp.
Don’ttellMillieandLucy.
“Hefrickingslippedinapuddleandtookoffrightpastthefence.”Gillythrewherhandsup,revealingpalmsalsocakedinmud.“IfelloutofthesaddleandIcouldn’tgetmyfootoutofthestirrup,sohebasicallyjustdraggedmethroughthemudforlikethirtyfeet.”
“Ohmygosh!Doesthathappen,like,alot?”
Whydopeopleridehorsesifthatcanhappen?
“Yeah,Imean,itcan.”Gillypulledatwigoutofherhair.“Ilostmyphonetoo,soI’mreallygladyoucamealong.You’rekindofalifesaver.”
Ileaneddownnexttoherandwatchedwithalarmasshewinced.“Areyou,like,hurt?Likebrokenbonesoranything?”
“Ithinkmyankle’ssprained.”Gillyleanedback.“AndIscratchedmylegprettygood.”
That’swhenIsaw.
Blood.
AhugespotofbloodonGilly’spantleg.
Hurk!
Aswelloffamiliarnauseawashedoverme.
Gilly’seyespoppedopeninalarm.“Areyouokay?”
“Oh,I,uh.”Iattemptedtotakeadeepbreath.Iclosedmyeyesandtiltedmyheadtowardthesky,likesomeonetryingtosurfacefromaverydeepdive.
Please,ohplease,Anne,donotpassout.Notinthemiddleofthispossiblyheroicmoment.NotthatithastobeheroicorthatthatmeansGillyisavictim—
“Youlook,like,notokay.”Gillyleanedforwardtotouchmyshoulder.“Youlookkindofgreen.”
ThedissonancebetweenthefeelingofGillytouchingmyarmandthefeelingofdeepvertigowasAliceinWonderland-ian.
“Really?”Itookshallowbreaths.Awaveofcoldwashedovermyface.“Um,sorryI,justasecond,just.”
“Oh!”IheardGillyshift.“Oh,areyou,like,scaredofblood?”
Yes.
“Um.Alittle?I’msosorry;that’ssosuperembarrassing.”
Pleasedon’tbarf,pleasedon’tbarfonGilly,Anne,Ibegyou.
“What?Ah!”Gillycried.“Okay.Just,um,justholdonasecond.”Therewassomescuffling.“Holdon.”
“Holding.”
“Um.”
“Onceagain,I’msosorryaboutthis.”Icouldfeelmyselflistingtotheleft.“Thisisobviouslynotcool.Imean,youareinneed,andIamkindofnotbeinghelpfulrightnowandIgetthat.”
Thereweresomemoreindecipherablenoisesthen.“Okay.Youcanlooknow.”
Iopenedmyeyes,cautiously.TherewasGillyHenderson.Inherbra.WithherT-shirtcoveringherbloodyankle.Lookinglikealittlenervousand…
HO.LEE.SHIT.SHEWASINHERBRA.
Iactuallystumbledbackward,likesomeonehitmewithapillow.Or.Something.Icouldfeelmyselfblushinglikemad.“Oh,uh.Yes.Um.Yes,that’sfine.”
AndofcoursebecauseIwasbeingsocool,let’sbehonest,I’dbeencoolthiswholetime,butnow,like,epicallycool,thenGILLYfeltawkward.
Shecrossedherarmsoverherchest.“Isthisaproblem?”
“No,notit’snot—”
“Doyouneedmetoputmyshirtbackon?”Gillylookedaround.
Justthenthehorseletoutamassive,loud…neigh?Likethisgutturalmetallichorsescream.
“Oh,shutup,George,youridiculousnightmarehorse!”Gillycuthimoff.“Thisisallyourfault!”
Georgerespondedwithsomethinglikeawetsneezethat,ifitwereaword,wouldbespelled,“PBBTBTBTBTBTBTBBTBTTT!”
“PAH!”Icouldn’thelpmyself.Istartedtolaugh.
Itwaslikethedambroke.Forfiveminutesafterthat,wewerejustsittinginthedirt,laughingourassesoff.
“OhmyGod,Iamsoweird,”Gillymoaned.“Nowondermyhorseissuchaweirdo.”
“What?”
“Thiswholedayisridiculous!”Gilly’sshoulderscurledforward.“Ijusttookmyshirtoff!”
“So?ItwassoIwouldn’tthrowuponyou!”Isaid.“Who’sawkwardthere?Hello?Me?”
“You’reliketheoppositeofawkward.”Gillysighed.
“Well,you’reoneofthefewpeoplewhothinksso,”Isaid,gettingtomyfeet.“CanIhelpyoubacktoyourhouseorsomething?”
“Yeah.Imean,thanks.”
“Doyouhavesomeoneyoucancall?”Iasked.
Gillyheldupheremptypalm.“Ilostmyphone?”
“Oh,right!Duh.Yousaid.”Ipulledmineoutofmypocket.Dead.“Okay,well,that’snotgoingtowork.”
Gillylookedupatmewiththoseblueeyes.Whichhadflecksofgoldinthem.Justsaying.
“Doyouthinkyoucanmanagethewalk?”Iasked.“IfIhelpyou?”
“Yes.”
IttookafewminutestogetGillyupofftheground,andanothertwentyminutesofathree-leggedcrawltogetbacktoherhouse,withGeorgetrailing,unimpressed,behindus.Formostofit,Gillywassurprisinglyquiet,whichItooktomeanthatshewasinpain,butaswegotclosertoherhouse,Ifelthereyesonme.
“What?Areyouokay?”
“Ijust—Ican’tbelieveyou’rehelpingme,”shesaidquietly.
“Whywouldn’tIhelpyou?”
“Because,”Gillysaid,mostlytoherstomach,“theywereterribletoyou.Imean,wewereterrible.Thesign-upsheet?Ihonestlydidn’tknowwhattheywrote.ButIknewtheyweredoingsomething.Ishouldn’thave,youknow,helpedthem.”
Ididn’twanttosay,“Yes,youweremean,”becauseIdidn’twantGillytofeelbad,butIdidn’twanttosay“No,”becauseitwasn’ttrue.Ididn’tknowwhattosay,soIsaid,“Thisisyourplace?”
Itwasaranchjustbeyondthemeadow.Thehousewasbigandbeigeandhadapaddockandabarninthefront,withloadsofdifferentmachinesparked,andmaybeforgotten,onthefrontlawn.Therewasoneofthoselawnmowersyouride.Twobicycles.Awadingpoolthatwascrackedupthecenter.
“That’sallmylittlebrothers’stuff,”Gillysaid.“They’reatsomesportsthing.”
Georgemoseyedpastthehouseandthroughanothergatetowardwhatlookedlikeabarn.
“Heokay?”
Gillysuckedinasliverofair.“He’sfinefornow.I’llgetmydadto—”
Oh,right,mycautionsensorsclickedon.Adad
Oncue,asweopenedthedoor,abigvoiceboomedfrominside,“GILLY?!”
Gilly’sdadwasagiantsilver-hairedmaninaflannelshirt.Heboundedover,eyesfilledwithworry,adishraginonehand.“Wherehaveyoubeen?Whathappened?”
Ashestoodinfrontofus,Ihadtoactuallytiltmyheadbacktotakehimin.HelookedlikeamuscularSanta.HewasaswideasGillywasthin,withhandslikebaseballmitts.ThecloudofsilverhaironthetopofhisheadwasdistinctfromthemostlycroppedhairI’dseenonothermeninGreenville.
“Georgebolted,”Gillyexplainedasherfatherpausedto,Iimagine,takeinthefactthatGillywasinherbra.IsmiledasmileIhopedcommunicatedthatIwasnotnecessarily(althoughIwas)responsibleforthelackofshirt.“Alsothisis…Anne.ShefoundGeorgeinthewoodsandbasicallysavedme.”
“Hi.”Iwaved.“Imean.IfoundGilly.Iwouldn’tsaysaved.”
“Thatdamnhorse!”herfatherboomed.Then,resetting,heturnedtomeandsaid,“Thankyou,Anne,forsavingmydaughterfromherhorse,whoI’mgoingtogoshoot.”
“Dad!That’snotfunny,”Gillyhuffed.
“Notmeanttobe,”herfathersaidashereachedouttotakehisdaughter’sarm.
“Alsodon’tletAnneseethebloodonmyleg,”Gillynoted.
“OrI’llbarf,”Iadded.
Gilly’sfather’sgazedartedbetweenmeandhisdaughter.“Right,”hesaidfinally,carefullyputtingGilly’sarmoverhisshoulder.“Well,whydon’twegetyouonthecouchandthenI’llgetthatdamnhorsebackinhisstallbeforehebreakshisneck.”
WegotGillytoasofainalivingroomfullofbigstuffedcouchesandatelevisionbiggerthananytelevisionI’deverseeninmywholelife.LikeawallofTV.Herfatherbroughtherabagoffrozenpeasandastoolandthenranoutthedoor.IgrabbedastraysweatshirtonachairandhandedittoGilly.
“Doyou”—Ilookedovermyshouldertogiveherprivacyandtoseeifherdadwasgoingtoboundbackinthedoor—“wantmetogo?”
“OH,”Gillysaid.“Doyouwanttostayfor,like,asnackorsomething?Orwillyourmomsworry?”
“No.Icanstay.”Ipulledoutmycell.“CanIchargemyphone?”
ItwasentirelypossibleLucywashomeandwonderingifIwassittinginthewoodswithasprainedankle.
“Yes.”Gillybrightened.“Youcanchargeyourphoneandthenpossiblyhaveasnack?”
“Doyouhave,like,awesomesnacks?”Iteased.“Ifeellikeyoukeeppushingthesnacks.”
“Hospitality.”Gillypointedatachair.“Haveaseat.Mydadwillgetussomethingwhenhegetsback.Myfatherisalsoveryintosnacks.”
Hewas.Assoonashegotback,hemadeusbothrootbeerfloatsinmugsIinitiallymistookforpitchers.Also,whoseideawasittoputicecreaminrootbeer?It’sgenius!
“Thanks,sir,”IsaidasItooktheglass.
“JustcallmeBob,”hesaid,movingtowardthedoorway.“Youkidsrelax.I’mgoingtocallthedoctor.”
SothereIwas,onaSaturday,inthelivingroomofGillyHenderson,gettingaprettysolidicecreamheadache.
Ididn’twanttomovebecauseIthoughtifImovedthewholethingwouldturnouttobeaveryweirdbutamazingdream.Although,assoonasIgotawispofachargeIsentmyparentsaquick“IAMOK”message.
“So.”Gillytookalongslurp.“Ijustwantedtotellyou.Ithoughtyourauditionwasreallycompelling.”
“Really?”
“Ohyes,”Gillygasped.“Yoursinging,theacting.Itwasamazing.Itwasjustveryprofessional.”
“Wow.”
“Now,I’mjustblatheringon.”Gillylookeddownatthecouch.
“What?No.That’sallreallynicethingstosay,”Isaid.“Iwasgoingtotellyouthatyoudidreallygreattoo!”
“Thanks.”Gillysloshedthelastbitsoficecreamaroundinhermug.“Ilikedthesongtoo.Theoneyousang.Whatwasit?”
“‘IWillSurvive.’”
“Really?”Gillylookedmomentarilyconfused.“Itdidn’t…soundlike‘Survive’?”
“Possiblyyou’rethinkingoftheDestiny’sChildsong‘Survivor’?”
Gillydroppedherforeheadintoherhandandgroaned.
“It’sokay!”Ileanedforward,sloshingrootbeeronmyleg.“Lotsofpeoplemixthosetwoup…Ibet.”
Imeanno,but.
“I’mridiculous.”
“You’rereallynot.And,actually,inmyhouseIgetin,like,deepshitforsayingstufflikethat,so,yeah.Youarenot.”
TherewasalightknockonthedoorasGilly’sfathersteppedin.“Doctorsayshecanseeyouintwenty.Allright?”
Heturnedtome.“Youneedaridehome,um,Anne?”
“Ohsure.”IstoodupandtookGilly’smug.“I’lljustputthisstuffaway?”
AsIwalkedtothekitchen,IfeltGilly’sfatherhovering.Imovedtothesinktodepositourformerlyfrostyglasses.
Thisisit,Ithought,thisiswherethewholethingturnsandnowthatGilly’ssafehe’sgoingtosaysomethingcrappy.Orsomething.
MybrainflashedtoanangryemailtoLucy:“THATGIRLTOOKOFFMYDAUGHTER’SSHIRTANDALMOSTBARFEDONHERLEG!”
“Idon’tneedarideifyouneedtogettothehospital,”Ioffered,spinningaroundandleaning,somewhatdefensively,againstthecounter.“Icanwalk.It’stotallyfine.OrIcancallmymoms.”
HewasholdingoutapairofpurplerubberCrocs.“Ijustthoughtyou’dlikesomethingonyourfeet,”hesaid.“Don’twantyourmomsthinkingI’dletakidouttherewithnoshoes.”
“Oh.”Itooktheoffering.“Sorry.Defensive.Thatwasweird.”
Gilly’sfatherrubbedhisbeardasIslippedtheCrocsovermytotallytrashedsocks.
“Thankyou,”hesaid.“Thankyouforbringingherhome.”
“Noproblem.”
“Right.”Heclappedhishandsandturnedtoleavetheroom.“Okay,Gilly!Let’sgetyouloadedup!”
Gilly’sdadhadamassiveblacktruckthatGillycouldsprawloutinthebackof.IsatupfrontonceI’dmanagedtoclimbupintotheseat.
“Hey!WhatwereyoudoingoutinthewoodswhenyoufoundGeorge?”Gillycalledforwardoncewewereontheroad.
“Skating,”Isaid,“Imean,Iwasskating.ThenI…”Ilookedintherearviewmirror.“Ihadalittledetour.”
“Oh.”Gillytwiddledherfingers.“Likehow?Didyougetlost?”
“Notexactly.”
Wewerequietforawhile.Ilookedoffandoutthewindowaswecoasteduptomyfrontdoor.
MaybeGillydidn’twanttohearwhatIhadtosayaboutwhoIthoughtranmeofftheroad.
Herfriends.
Likeevenwiththeapology,onlycomingfromherBTW,shewasstilltheirfriend.
“Thanksfortheride,uh,Mr.,uh,Bob.”Iopenedthedoor.
“Nothingdoing.”Gilly’sfatherputthetruckinpark.“Thanksforsavingmykid,MissAnne.”
GillyrolleddownherwindowasIsteppedontothelawn.
“Thanks,”Gillysaid,restingherchinonthewindowledge.“Foreverything.Thanks.”
“Nothingdoing.”Igavealittlebow.
Awispofherhairswoopedoverherfaceasanothertendrilfloatedupandoutofthewindowlikeakitestring.
Gillywaved.“Bye!”
“BYE!”
Andtheydroveoff.AndIheadedupthewalktothesoundofMontybarkingherheadoffandmyheartbeatingoutofmychest.
Ihadabunchofmessagesonmyphone,whichI’dcompletelyforgottenI’dcharged.TwowerefromMillie,wonderingwhereIwasandaskingmetocleanmyroom.TwowerefromLucy,alittlemorefranticandwonderingwhereIwasandwhyIwasn’tansweringmyphone.
TherestwerefromBerry.
BERRY
Hey!
BERRY
Sorrywasbeingweirdearlier.
BERRY
AboutwhenGillystoodupforyou?
BERRY
Ihavekindofaweirdhistorywithher?
BERRY
It’sfinethough
BERRY
Doyouwanttocomeover?
WeirdhistorywithGilly?Geez,wasnothinginGreenvillesimple?SEVENTEEN
MillieandLucycameoutintheeighties,whichMilliehasoftenpointedouttomewasaneasiertimetobegaythanpreviousdecades,butitwasalsowhenitwasstillentirelypossiblethatifyouthoughtagirllikedyou,andyouwereagirl,itcouldbe,asMilliesaid,“complicated.”
LikeMillieactuallygotbeatuponceforlikingagirl,bythegirl’stwoolderbrothers.Imean,shestilldatedthegirl,inhighschool,butthatpartclearlysucked.
So,obviously,insomesociopoliticalways,likingsomeoneofthesamegender(letalonehavingagenderthatdoesn’tneatlyfitintothebinary)iseasiernowthanitusedtobe.Andinotherwaysit’sjustendlesslycomplicated.Becausenomatterwhatdecadeyou’rein,it’sstillHIGHSCHOOL.
Highschoolgoesoutofitswaytoliveuptoitsreputationofbeingaplacethatmakeseverythingmiserable,inmyhumbleopinion.Everychoiceinhighschoolfeelslikeyou’reinahorriblerealitygameshow.
Likeallnight,afterIapologizedtoMillieandLucyandthenexplainedwhathappenedandthentookMontyforawalk,Iwaswreckedwithindecisionaboutwhattodonext.Imean,wasIsupposedtotextGillyaftersheandherdaddroppedmeoff?Orwasthatwholethinghersayingthatsheandmewerefriends?Likemaybeshelikedmeinawaythatwemightendupbeingfriendsbecausethat’swhathappenswhenpeoplegothroughstrangeandawkwardsituationstogether?
Imean,DannyandIbecamefriendswhenIaccidentallysupergluedmyselftohisdesk.Maybethat’snotthesamething.
IdidtellDannywhathappenedandhesaidIshouldtextGilly,butIdon’tthinkeithergaymaleorChicagorulesapplytoanyrelationshipsinGreenville.
ThenIstartedanderasedtwotextstoGillywhichsaidsomethingalongthelinesof:Hey!It’sAnne!Hopeyourankleisokay.Wouldbetotallycooltohangout.Doyouwantto?
PlustherewasthewholeBerrything.WhatdidBerrymean?Whatwascomplicated?WasBerry,like,with…Gillyatsomepoint?
Wasthatjustmeprojecting?ShouldIdefinitelynotsayanythingtoBerryabout“rescuing”Gilly?
ThenextmorningGillywasn’tinclass.
Berryshowedupinasetofcoverallssolidlysplatteredinpink,withpinkpaintinherhairandonhernose.
“Wereyoupaintingthismorning?”Iasked.
“Oh.”Berrylookedatherarms.“Yeah.”
“Youpaintinthemornings?Attheminiputt?”
Berrynodded,then,withalittlefurrowofherbrow,changedthesubject.“IheardyousavedGillyfromthewoodsyesterdayaftershefelloffherhorseandsprainedherankle.”
Iploppedmybooksdownonmydesk.“HOWdoyouknowthat?”
Shesprainedherankle?Mystomachflipped.Wassheokay?
“Smalltown,”Berrynoted.“Ialsoheardyouwereinyoursocks.”
“Okay,thatissuperdetailed.”
“So,whathappened?”Berryslidintoherseat.
“It’sactuallyalongstory.”Ipulledoutmygeographybook,“Itwasawholehorsething.”
“George?”
“Yes!Howdoyouknowherhorse’sname?”
“That’swhatshealwaysnamesherpets,”BerrysaidjustasMr.Hemphersteppedtothefrontoftheclassandstartedwritingourassignmentsontheboard
“Allright,everyone,pipedown,”hewarned.
Berryopenedherbookandbeganturningthepageswithgreatconcentrationandprecision.
CuriouslyTannerandSarahwerealsobothabsent,whichhonestlywasakindofmagicalblessing.MaybetheywerehelpingoutGillywithhersprainedankle?MaybetheywerenolongerneededtobethevillainsofmystorynowthatIhadtakenmyplaceinGreenvilleHighBroadwayfame?
No.Obviously.
Butitwasnicetoatleasthavealunchinpeace.Ilingeredoverthepizzainthecafeterialine,butchoseyogurtinsteadbecauseI’mnotafool.Oncewe’dsettledintoalunchspotonthesteps,Islippedinmybig,curiousquestion.“So,uh.Whatwascomplicated?WithyouandGilly?”
Berrywassittingcross-leggedonthestepswithherskateboardonherlap,wheelsup,abagofchipsinonehand.Shespuntheplasticwheelsonherboardasshemunched.
“Wewerefriends,Iguess.”Thewheelsspununderherfingers.“Whenwewerelittle.Likegradetwoandup.Weusedtohangoutandstuff.Iusedtohorsebackridetoo,andwehadlessonstogether.”
GillyandBerryusedto…ridetogether?!
“ThenshestartedbeingfriendswithTannerandSarah,thatwholecrew.Andwejustkindof…stoppedbeingfriends.”
“Wait,what?Whydidn’tyousaythat?Likeearlier.”
“Imean,isn’titkindofobviousIhadsomefriendswhenIwasakid?”Berrycrumpledherchipbagandshoveditinherpocket.“Itoldyouwhatthey’relike.”
Shesnuckagaugingglancemyway.Ithinkmymouthwashangingopen.
“Whatever,”shesaidhurriedlyasshescrambledtoherfeet,“it’sfine.”
“Soundslikeitsucked,though.”ItriedtocatchBerry’seye.Shebentdowntotieherbootlace.
“Yeah,well,abadfriendisn’tafriend,right?”Berrystraightenedandtossedherskateboardonthewalkinfrontofthesteps.Thenshehoppeddownthestepstwoatatimeandleapedontotheboardinaflowofmotion.Withasolidpumpandaflickofherfoot,shezingedaroundaflockofstraycheerleadersbeforeloopingback.
“Thatsucks,”Isaid,pickingupwhereweleftoff.
“Yeah,”Berrysaid,kickingherboardupintoherhands.“Imean,weweretwelveorwhatever.It’sjust,like,weird.Iguess.So.”Shespunherboardonitsnose.“Doyoustillwanttohangoutor…?”
Ijumpedtomyfeet.“Berry!OhmygoshofcourseIwanttohangout.Imean.Of.Course.”
Berryletherboarddroptotheground.“Sure.”
SuddenlyIwantedtogiveBerryahug.Butshepickedupherboardandhelditacrossthefrontofherbody.Likemaybeshedidn’twantone.
Ishovedmylunchstuffinabag.“Let’shangouttomorrow,okay?”
Thebellrang.“Soundsgood.”Berrywavedassheheadedofftobandpractice.“Breakaleg!”
“You’resayingthattosomeonewhowillprobablybeinaflyingapparatus.”
“Iknow.”
Thefactthatitwasfirstdayofrehearsals,tome,explainedMr.Davidson’sformalattire,whichIhadbeenadmiringsinceIspottedhiminthehallthatmorning;awaistcoatwithmatchingbluecoatandpants,andcowboyboots.Ithoughthelookedprettyimpressive,andhonestly,IwassadIhadn’tgoneformygreenA-linego-godresswithmatchingtights(whichwouldhavebeenmorePeterPan).
Therehearsalwasinthemusicroom,abigwoodenroomshapedlikeashellthatsmelledlikesweatandreed.Iwasthereearly,becausethat’smydeal,andtherestofthecasttrickledinastheminutestickedbyafterlastbell,everyonelookingnervous.IdidnoticethatMinnieDelain,thegirlwhowasgoingtoplayTinkerBell,arrivedatrehearsalwithherownwings,whichshecarriedunderherarmandthen,gently,placedontheseatnexttoher.
“Wow!Thosearereallycool,”Icooed,transfixedbytheirrainbowglow.
“Imadethemmyself,”shesaid,touchingoneofthegossameredgeswithafinger.
“Coathangers?”
“Craftwire.”Sheturned.“Youthinkcoathangerswillholdbetter?”
“Imean—”
“Hello!Hello!”Mr.Davidsonstrodeinwithatrayofgreensparklytreats,holdingthemuponhisshoulderlikeafancywaiter.“Iassumeeveryoneisreadytoparticipateinthemagicalartoflivetheater?”
Clearly.
Bythetimeweallhadatreatandacopyofourscripts,wewerestillaboutfivecastmembersshort.Mr.Davidsonlookedathiswatch.
“Well,”hesaid,grabbinghisclipboard,“whereareourWendyandHook?Iwonder.Whoelsearewemissing?”
IwasgoingtosuggestthatmaybeGillywasoutbecauseofherankle,whenthedooropened.Tanner,Sarah,andJohn,andanotherkidIrecognizedfromtheauditionsstoodinthedoorway.
“Mr.Davidson?”
Mr.Davidsonstood.Hemadeamovetohisplateoftreatsthenpulledhishandsback.Heturnedandtookinthegroupstandingatthedoor.
“You’relate,”hesaid,lookingathiswatchagain.
Sarahsteppedforward.ShewaswearingherOurTowndress.Whichtomewasaweirdchoice,butmaybetoSarahinthatmomentitwasn’tanOurTowndress.“We’reprotesting.Theplay.”
“Shit,”Minniewhispered.
Theotherkidssquirmedintheirseats.
“Okay.”Mr.Davidsontappedthetoeofhisbootonthefloor.“I’mnotclearastoexactlywhatthatmeans.”
“Wearenotparticipatinginrehearsalsuntilthe”—Sarahpausedandlookedupattheceilinglikesomethingwaswrittenthere—“inequityofthissituationisaddressed.”
Mr.Davidsonsighed.Liketheairwascomingoutofhissuitalittle.“Areyouallquittingtheplay?”
“No.”TannerhadmaybethefirstseriouslookIhadeverseenonhisface.“We’rejustprotesting.So.We’renotquitting.”
ThismademelegitwonderifTannerreallydidwanttoplayHook.
“Well,then.”Mr.Davidsongaveanod.“Thankyouforlettingusknow,Sarah,yourgroup’sintentions.”Hemovedtoseewhoelsewasinthehallway.“Youmayallgo.”
TannerandSarahexchangedglances.Sarahpressedherlipstogether.
“Mr.Davidson?”
“Yes,Sarah.”
“Wewillhaveourdemandstoyoushortly.”
“Verywell.”Mr.Davidsonletoutanothersigh.“Thankyou.”
Astheydisappeareddownthehallway,therestofuswerefinallyfreetoquietlyfreakout,sincewe’dallbeensittingtherefrozenforthepastfiveminutes.
Mr.Davidsondroppedintohischair,unbuttoninghistopbutton.“Allright.”Hetappedthecopyofthescriptwithhisfinger.“Gohomeandmemorizeyourlinesandwe’llbereadytogoforournextrehearsal.Okay?We’llfigureitout.”
Chairsshuffledandsqueaked.Minniepickedupherwingsandtuckedthembackunderherarm.
“Bye,um,Anne?”
“Yeah,bye,Minnie?”
“Yeah.”
Ifeltcementedintomychair.I’dgrabbedatreatearlierandnowitwasmeltinginmysweatypalm.
Imean,withallthatwashappening,whatwasIwondering?
IwaswonderingifGillyknewaboutthisandwhyshehadn’ttextedme.
“Anne?”Mr.Davidson’sbootsclickedacrossthefloor.“Youallright?”
“Oh,I’mjust…”Ipulledoutmyskates.“It’sjusttoobad.”
“Well,”Mr.Davidsonmutteredasherewrappedhistreats.“That’sGreenvilleforyou,isn’tit?”
“Isit?”
Mr.Davidsonshookhishead,likehe’dsuddenlyrememberedwhoIwas.Heputonawarmsmile.“Itwillbefine.Justalittlefuss.”
“Protestisanimportantpartofanydemocracy,”IsaidasIpulledmyskatelacetight.
“Wellthen,Greenvilleisverydemocratictoday.”Andwiththat,hescootedhistreatsintoacanvasbagalongwithhisscripts.
AsIgottomyfeet,heturnedinthedoorway.“Don’tletLyndeseeyouonthoseinthehall.”
“Iwon’t.”
“AndtellyourmotherIsaid,‘Hanginthere.’TellherIsaidGreenville’sbarkisworsethanitsbite.TellherIsaythatasaqueerwho’slivedhereallhislife.”
Ididn’tknowwhatthatmeantuntilIgothome,whereIfoundLucyandMilliewereonthereceivingendofdemocracyatwork.
“What’shappening?”
Lucywassittingwithherlaptoponherlap,aglassofwineinonehand,half-empty.“Don’tworryaboutit,”shesaid,swirlingherwine.
“Tellher.”MilliegotupandpointedmetotheseatnexttoLucy.
“Thisisschoolbusiness,”Lucysaid,loweringthecoveronherlaptop.
“It’sherschooltoo,”Milliesaid,guidingmyshoulder.“Showher.”
Isatdownonthecouch.Lucydrainedherwineandthenopenedherlaptop.“I’mnotreadingyouwhowrotethese,”shesaid.“Thisisconfidential.”
Ididn’tneedtoseetheemailstoknowwhotheywerefrom.EIGHTEEN
Therewerealotofemails,andtheyallstartedthesame.
“FirstwewanttowelcomeyouandyourfamilytoGreenvilleandcongratulateyouonyournewpositionatGreenvilleHighSchool.”
Likelayingoutthecarpetattheentranceofatorturechamber.A“Welcome”carpettogowiththewreathsoneveryGreenvillefrontdoor,wreathsliketheoneLucyhadaddedtoourdooradayearlier—onewithalittletinybirdhouseonit.
Thenthetonetookahardrightintoterse.
“ItiswithgreatconsternationthatI,[insertnameofparenthere],amwriting.IamgreatlyconcernedthatsinceyourarrivaltherehasbeenashiftinvaluesatGreenville.ThecitizensatGreenvillearecitizenswhovaluetraditionsandhistory.Thechoiceofschoolplay,alongwithmanyotherchoicesmadeunderyourpurview,haveallbeenmadeindiscriminationagainstthepeoplewhohavelivedinthiscommunityformanyyears.Andifthisdoesnotchange,wewillhavenochoicebuttonotifytheschoolboard.”
“It’sPETERPAN!”Ifumed,boltingupfromthecouch,lightlytrippingoveranappingMonty’stailandthengatheringmyfootingintimetonotcrashintothecoffeetable.
Lucydrainedherwine.
“They’rejustbeinghomophobicandstupid,”Ihollered.“What,sojustbecauseSarahcan’tactinanythingbutOurTownnoonegetstodoanything?!Soshegetstosayshe’sbeingdiscriminatedagainstandthenshegetsherway?”
“Thisisn’tjustaboutaplay.”Milliedroppedintotheloveseat.
“Ireadyouthelettersoyouwouldknowwhat’sgoingon,”Lucysaid,clickingherlaptopshut,“becausethisisyourschooltoo.Butthisismyjob,andIamgoingtodealwithit.”
“Howareyouevenresponsiblefortheplay?”Icharged.
“SchoolartsissomethingIlookafteraspartofmyadministration’sduties,”Lucyclarified,afterasipofwine.“UnderPrincipalLynde,ofcourse.”
“CanLyndecanceltheplay?”Iasked.
“ItrulyhavenoidearightnowwhatPrincipalLyndewilldo.”Lucylookedoveratme.Shehaddarkcirclesunderhereyes.“ButIwilltalktoher.Andyou,inthemeantime,willfocusonschool.Allright?”
“Whatabout—”
Milliepulledherselfoutofherchair.“Nope.That’sit.Forrightnow.Youletyourmomhandlethis.Fornow…”ShewhistledandMontypoppeduplikeapoppedpopcorn.“Let’sgetsomeburgers.”
“Goodidea,”Lucysaid.
“Okay.”Myinsidesfeltlikeaknot.
“It’sgoingtobeokay,”Lucywhisperedassheleanedoverandgrabbedmeinahug.
“Okay,”Isaid,pressingthetwotearsthatcameoutintoLucy’ssleeve.
“HEY!Burgers!Let’sgo!”
TheburgerstandwasthumpingwithmusicandGreenvilleteenagersbythetimewegotthere.SoVicePrincipalShirleyandPeterPanShirleyoptedtostayinthecarwhileMillie,whowasalsothehungriest,wentandorderedtheburgersandshakesfromthecounter.
“Mr.Davidsonsaidtosay,‘Hanginthere,’”ItoldLucy,whileMontypantedhotdogbreathintomyface.
“Mr.Davidsonisprettygreat,”Lucysaid.“He’slivedherehiswholelife.”
“He’salocal,”Isaid,“buthehasflair.”
“Otherlocalsdon’thaveflair?”Lucymused.
Therewasasofttaponthewindow.
Berrywavedontheothersideoftheglass.
Irolleddownthewindow,shovingMontyback.“Hey!”
“Hey,”Berrysaid.“Uh,hey.VicePrincipalShirley.”
“Berry.”Lucyputonhercordialprincipalvoice.“Nicetoseeyou.”
“Yeah,uh.”Berrysteppedback,slightlyshrinkingintohercoveralls.“Myparentswanttosayhello.So,herewego.”Sheturnedtoaddresstheverytall,veryhip-lookingadultsstandingbehindher.“Okay,sayhiandthat’sit.”
Berry’sfatherworefadedcoveralls.HehadafriendlyfaceandthesamehairasBerry,onlynottiedupandgreen.Berry’smomwasalittlemoreGreenvillestandardinkhakishortsandaGreenvillesweatshirt.
“Hello.”Theywavedinsync.
“I’mHarry.”Berry’sfatherpointedathischest.“ThisisSophie.”
“It’ssolovelytomeetyoufinally,”Sophiegushed,causingBerrytocringe.“We’veheardsomuchaboutyou,Anne!”
Istuckmyheadfartheroutthewindow,whichwasalittlesquishedbecauseMontywasdoingthesame.“Somuch!Youdon’tsay!”IwaggledmyeyebrowsatBerry.“Well,that’sprettycool!”
Berryrolledhereyes.
“IknowAnnefeelsthesame,”Lucyconfided,outloud,toeveryonewithinearshot.“She’sveryluckytohaveafriendlikeBerry.”
“Imean,afterallshe’sbeenthroughwiththoseothergirls.”SophieputahandonBerry’sback,whichmighthaveverywellbeenmadeoffirefromtheexpressiononBerry’sface.“IwasjustsayingtoHarrytheotherday—”
Milliereturnedwithatrayofburgers,givingBerrytimetoslipawayfromhermother’shandandgivemealookofsolidmortification.Ireturnedthelookwithapsychicmessageacknowledgingthatsometimeswedon’twantourmomstospeakthethingstheyspeak.
Othergirls.LikeGilly,Iassumed.
AndthenathinthreadofMontydrooldroppedontomyshoulderandIpinwheeledbackintothecar.“GAH!MONT-STER!OHMYGOD,THAT’SSOGROSS!”
“We’llletyouenjoyyoursupper,”IheardHarrysayasIdesperatelywipedthepoolofdrooloffmyneckwiththefrontofmyshirt.
“Whatanicefamily,”Lucysighed.“You’reveryfortunatetofindafriendheresofast.”
Inodded,shovingmyburgerinmymouthbeforeMontygotachancetoslobberonit.
Ithinktheworldisalittleeasiertodealwithafteryou’veeaten.
Whenwegothome,Lucyholedupwithhercomputerinthelivingroom,andIpulledoutmyscriptforPeterPan.AsfarasIknew,theshowwasstillon.Mr.Davidsondidn’tseemlikehewasgivingup,yet.
Afewpagesin,IstartedgettingastringofveryembarrassedtextsfromBerry.
BERRY
Ithinkweshouldallthankmymomformakingsureourfirstmeetingwasasawkwardaspossible
ANNE
Iwasn’tembarrassed!
ANNE
FinallyIgottomeettheonlyotherpersoninGreenvillewithanymusicaltaste!
BERRY
Yeahuguysdidn’tgettocomparenotes
ANNE
Nexttime
BERRY
IheardaboutSarah’sprotest!!!
ANNE
Yeah
BERRY
Andtheemails
BERRY
FYImymomdidn’tsendone.
ANNE
Good
ANNE
Mymomisdealingwit
BERRY
Good
Irolledoveronmybackintoapileofwhatcouldhavebeeneithercatordoghair,whichIthenhadtopeeloffmybodywhilemyphonebuzzed.
Withaphonecall.
Aphonecall?
“Hey.”Thevoiceontheotherendofthephonewassoft,almostawhisper.
“Hello?”
“It’sGilly.”
“Oh!Hey!”Mystomachdidanervousflip.
“Isnowokay?Totalk?”
“Oh.Yeah.Sure.”Ilookedaround.Bjornlookedupatmefromhisspotonmybed.ItwasthatsolidcatlookofYouarebotheringmebyjustexisting.“Um.How’syourankle?”
“Oh.Sprained.Nottoobad,though.SoI’llbebackinafewdays.Justgotalittlebootcast.”
“Great.Imean,it’sgoodit’snotbroken.Right?”
Thentherewasliterallyaone-minutepausewhereIwonderedifGillyhadhungupaftergivingmeanupdateonhercast.
“Iheardabout…Sarah’sprotest.Abouttheplay?”
“Yeah.Thatkindofsucked.”
Therewasashufflingsoundinthebackground,makingmewonderifGillywasalone.“Ijustthink,maybe,like,ifyoucouldtalktoSarah,itmightchangehermind.”
Mystomachtookapausefromfloppingaroundinmyinsidestodropintomyankles.LikehowmuchdidthissoundlikeGilly’slastidea,thatIshouldsignupfortheplay?Asuggestionthatledmestraightintoadelugeofhomophobicslurs?
“Um.”Ibitmylip.“Yeah,Idon’tknow.Gilly.Ithink.Idon’tthinkmetalkingtoSarahisagreatidea.”
“Ijustthought—”IcouldhearGilly’slipsgetclosertothephone.OrIwaspicturingit.“Ifyoutalkedtoher,face-to-face,thatitcouldbedifferent?”
Thistimeitwasmyturntositinsilence.
“Imean,itdoesn’thavetobeallbad.Youknow?Ifsheknewyou,insteadofjusthavingthisideaofyou?Imean,ItalkedtoyouandIthinkyou’rereallygreat.Andyou’resonice.Theydon’tknowthat…aboutyou.”
“Gilly…”
“Tanner’shavingaparty,tomorrow,athishouse.Youcouldcome.I’minvitingyou,andthenmaybeyouguyscouldalltalkattheparty?Justtalkitoutoutsideofschool?Orifyoudon’twanttotalk,that’salsofine.Andwecouldalljusthangouttogether.”
Sohere’sthething.Like,byhighschoolrulesandbasedonmyGreenvilleHighexperience,therewasnowayinheckthiswouldwork.SarahPyeandTannerSpencerwerenotpeoplewhoweregoingtohavetheirmindschangedbyoneofmywittypartyjokes(althoughIdohavesomegoodones).But.But.IfIcoulddothis.Ifitcouldwork.
Thenwouldn’tthatfixeverything?AndmakeLucy’slifebetter?Andtheshowwouldgoon?AndmaybeIcouldshowBerrythatGillyhadchanged?Andmaybeshehad?BecausethepersonImetafewdaysearlierinthewoodscoveredinmudwasreallyniceandIlikedthatperson?
AndshejustsaidIwas“great.”
“Hello?”
“Yeah.Okay.Maybe.”Ishiftedslightlyinmyspotonthebed,sendingBjornrunningoffindisgust.“CanIbringBerry?”
“Sure.”
Icouldn’ttellifshewashappyornot.“Okay.Well.I’llseeyoutomorrow.Attheparty?”
“Yeah!I’lltextyoutheaddress!”
“Okay.Bye.”
“Bye!”
Possibly,ifyouarereadingthis,youarethinkingsomethingalongthelinesofwhatMilliesaysallthetime.Whichis,justbecauseyouhavealogicforyouractionsandcanexplainthatlogicatlength,doesn’tmeanthatactionislogical.
DamnMillieandherinsightsthatIcanonlyeverappreciateinhindsight.
Soyes,thiswholepartything,youarepossiblythinking,wasaterribleidea.
ANNE
Hey!Whatareyoudoingtomorrow?
BERRY
Nothing.Why?
ANNE
Doyouwanttocometoapartywithme?
BERRY
AGreenvilleParty?
ANNE
Yes.
BERRY
Whose?
ANNE
Tanner’s?
Youwouldnotbealoneinthatthinking.NINETEEN
Berrypickedmeupatmyhouseanhourbeforetheparty,arrivingjustasIwasdebatingwhetherornotIshouldwearmyvelvettuxedo,which,tomedidnotseemthatdressy.ButasitturnedoutevenBerry,whowasmostlyupforanycombinationofclothingIcoulddreamup,waswearingwhatlookedlikeaprettyfunctionalwoolsweateroverhercoverallsandshedidnotthinkthetuxwasagoodidea.
“It’salreadycoldout,”shesaid.“Theparty’sprobablyoutside.”
“Oh.”Ilookedatthetux.Itwasvelvetbutprobablynotreallysuitableforoutdoors.“Okay,holdon.”
Berrysatonthebedandlookedaroundmyroom.“SoGillythoughtyoushouldgotothispartyandtalktoSarah?”
Ipulledmysweateroutofmycloset.“Yes.”
“AnddoesSarahknowyou’regoingtotalktoher?”
“Idon’tknow,”Iadmitted,peelingoffmytuxjacketandyankingthesweaterovermyhead.“ButGillywillbethere.Maybeshe’llbelikealiaison,kindof.”
“Right.”Berrysoundedentirelyunconvinced.
“Imean,wego,ifSarahwon’ttalktous,howmuchworsecanthingsbethantheyarenow?”
AssoonasIsaidit,Irealizeditwasaridiculousthingtosay.
“WecouldtalktoSarahandTanneratschool?Inyourmom’sofficeorsomething?Like,official?”Berryadded,alegitimatelygoodidea.
“Yeah,butLucyisalready,like,dealingwiththisandifIdoitthisway,thenI’mtakingitoffherplate,”Isummarized.
“Ijustthink—ImeangoingtoTanner’shouse.LikeIknowyouwenttoGilly’shouse.But.”Berrystuckherfingerintotheholeonthethighofhercoveralls.“Idon’tknow,Anne.Youknow?”
“Hey!”Ishovedmyfootintoasparkle-coveredplatinumbootandlookedup.“Doyounotwanttogo?”
“Areyougoing?”Berryshiftedonthebed.
Bjorn,whowasslumberingonmypillow,didnotmove.
“Yes,Imean,IsaidIwould.”
“Thenwe’regoing.”Berrystoodup.
Inthecar,sheclickedonaTeganandSaratrackandturnedthevolumeup.BlastingmusicasMatowoundthroughthevariousroadsthatgotthinnerandthinnerforeverymilewegotclosertoTanner’shouse.Whenwewerealmostthere,sheturneddownthemusicwithaclick.
Andthenshewasjuststaringatthedrivewayasitgotcloserandcloser,likeitwasalion’sopenjaws.
“Hey.”Iturnedinmyseattofaceher.“Doyouwanttoturnaround?”
“Doyouwanttoturnaround?”
Ipulledmyhandsintomysweatersleeves,alreadycold.Like,really,itdidn’tlooklikeathingthatanyonewouldwanttodo,drivethroughthatsetoftallirongates.
ButIsaidIwould.
AndGillysaidshewouldbethere.
“We’lljuststayforafewminutes,”Ioffered.“Justtoseewhatit’slike,right?Show-of-good-faithkindofthing.”
“Sure,”Berrysaid,turningthewheelandpassingthroughthegates.“Fewminutes.”
Attheendofaverywindingdriveway,Tanner’shouseappeared,agreen-and-whiteminimansionsurroundedbymanicured,well-placedtrees.Thefrontofthepropertywasstackedwithcarsandtrucks.Evenbeforewepulledup,Icouldhearthemusicblastingoutsidethewindow.
“WhyaretheydoingthisonaTuesday?”Imused.
“Becausethere’sabigcardgamethathappensatJohn’sparents’houseeveryTuesday,”Berrysaid,pullingthekeysoutoftheignitionandtuckingtheminherpocket.“AlltheForevers’parentsgo.Andtheystayoutlate.”
“OH!”
“Yeah.”Berrythrewopenthedoor.“Okay,let’sgo.”
Outback,behindthehouse,theyardwassetupwithlightsandvariousfirepits,withcirclesofteenagersallgatheredinclumps.Agiantsetofspeakerswassetuponabigpatiotable,blastingmusicwithenoughbasstoplugorunplugyourears.
Ilookedaround,staringateachgroupIcouldseefromwherewewerestanding,foragirlwithcrutchesandlonghair,whoIhopedwouldbethere.Butwasnot.
“Whatshouldwedo?”Iasked.
“HowshouldIknow?ThiswasYOURidea,”Berrysaid,shovingherhandsinherpockets.
“Whydon’twejustgetthepartyfeel?”Isaid.“ThenwecanfindGillyandSarahandTanner.”
Berryheldoutherhand.“Afteryou.”
Okay,sowalkingaroundabackyardfullofbadmusicandpeoplewhodon’tlikeyouordon’tknowyou(althoughprobablytheyknewmebyreputation)wasaboutasfunasyouwouldthink.Mostofthekidsweredrunkordrinking,andlaughingthatloudlaughyoudowhenyou’rewasted.
And,ofcourse,attheendoftherainbowwasTanner,whowasstandingwithSarah,abeerinhand,scowlingatusasweroundedthecorner.
“Hey!”afamiliarvoicecalledovermyshoulder.
Gillywaswearingabigpuffyjacketandapairofjeans,onelegofwhichwasrolleduptomakeroomforabiggraymedicalrobotic-lookingboot.Shewasoncrutches,whichIcouldseeweresinkingintothedirtasshemadeherwaytowardus.
“Hey!”Icalledback,soundingmorechipperthanImeantto.
IfeltBerrygivemealook.“Hey,”shesaid.
“Hey,Berry!”Gillywasoutofbreathbythetimeshegottous.Sheleanedonhercrutches.“So,youcame!That’sgreat!”Shelookedoverhershoulder.“Okay.”
“Yeah,”Isaid.“SoshouldwetalktoSarah?”
Suddenly,behindus,someoneletoutalong,lowburp,whichwaftedthroughtheairandsetthetonefortherestofourconversation.
Gilly’sfaceseemedtofreezeasshelookedatthesourceoftheburpbehindme.“Hey.”
“Whatareyouguysdoinghere?”
Iturned,Berryplasteredagainstmyside.
“Hey,Tanner.Sarah.Greatparty.”Icouldfeelmycheeksgettingstiffasmylipspulledintoanervoussmile.
Tannerwaswearing(shocker)asoccerjerseyandpants.Sarahwaswearingashinypinkcoatwithlittleheartsonit.Theywereboth,clearly,kindofwasted
“So,Sarah,”Gilly’svoicehiccupped.“Anneactuallywantedtotalktoyou.Abouttheplay?”
Annewantedtotalktoyou?
Sarahsquinted.
“Hownice.”Sarah’sjacketzippeduptoherchininawaythattomelookeduncomfortable.“What,sonowthatitlookslikeyou’renotgoingtogetyourlittleplay,youwanttotalk?”
IcouldhearBerryswallow.
“Ah,no.”MyeyesflickeredtowardGilly.“Ijustthoughtmaybewecouldtalk?Sinceitseemslikethere’salotofconflict?Maybewecoulddealwithit…here?”
“Okay.”Sarahfoldedherarms.“Sotalk.”
“Okaaaay.”Ipressedmyarmsdownbymysidestotryandlooklessdefensivedespitetheflameofself-defensivenesscoursingthroughmybody.“Iknowit’smaybeweirdtohavesomeonenewhere?InGreenville?Andmaybethat’spartofwhat’sbeengoingon?”
Tannersnorted.
Igrittedmyteeth.“I’mjustthinking.Wehaven’treallyhadachancetotalkthroughthethingswedon’tgetalongabout?Somaybewe’rebothgoingoffimpressionsofeachotherinsteadofgettingtoknowwhoweeachactuallyare?”
“Whatdoesthatmean?”Sarahtookaslugofbeer.
“Like,youdon’treallyknowme,”Isaid.
“OhmyGod!”Sarahhowled.“Whatever.Haveyoueverthoughtthatmaybeyouaretheonewho’sprejudicedagainstus?Like,itispossibletobeprejudicedagainstwhitepeople,bytheway.”
Yikes.HUGEYIKES.
Theflameblossomedintoaroaringinferno.
“Idon’tthinkthat’sexactlywhatwe’retalkingabouthere?Look,Ijustthought”—Icouldheartheconvictionfunnelingoutofmyvoice—“wecouldtalkinsteadofbringingourparentsintothis.”
“By‘parents’youmeanyourmomtheso-calledviceprincipal.Whoonlygotherjobbecauseshe’sgay,”Tanneradded.
Gillyshiftedonhercrutches.“Youdon’tknowthat.”
SarahsnappedaroundtofaceGilly.“OhmyGod,Gilly.Shutthefuckup.”
Gilly’sfaceseemedtocrumble.
Sarahturnedbacktofaceme,holdingupafingerinmyface.“Iamsosickofallthis,like,bullshitaroundlikehowI’msupposedtotreatyou.Asif,like,everyoneisn’tgoingoutoftheirwaytomakeyoufeelspecialwhenreallyyou’rejustaweirdowhodressesweird?Whosingsgaysongsandsoyougetthepartintheplayeventhoughyouclearlysuck?Likeyousomehowdeservetobetreatedspecialbecauseyou’readoptedfromlikeChinaorwhatever.”
“FUCKYOU!”Berrysteppedforward.
Igrabbedherarmjustasshewasabouttolunge.
Tannerchuckled,takingaswigofhisbeer.“Ohright,nowBerryhassomethingtosay.Noonegivesafuckwhatyouhavetosay,Blueberry.”
“Igiveafuck,”Ispat.“Comeon,Berry.Thispartysucksass.Nicefirepits.”
“Right,Ididn’tinviteyou,”Tannerslurred,takinganotherswigfromhisbeer.“Soyoushouldprobablyfuckoffnow.”
Itookastepback.“Yeah,Ialreadysaidwewereleaving.Waytoswingaheadofthecurve.”
Withoutlooking,wemarchedaway,notout.ButactuallytotheedgeofTanner’sproperty,totheedgeofanabyssofcountry-styleblackoutdark.Mylegsfeltlikejelly.
“I’msosorry,”Berrysaid.“OhmyGod,Iamsososorry,Anne.”
“Whyareyousorry?”Myheartdropped.“Ibroughtyouhere.BecauseI’mclearlyapartygeniuswhocantellwhatpartieswillbegoodfornegotiatingnotbeinganasshole.Like,I’macompleteempty-brainnightmare.AndIdraggedyouintoit.”
Tearsstreakeddownmycheeks.IfeltBerry’shandonmyarm.Likeacat’spaw.
“YouknowthelasttimeIwashere,”shesaid,“itwasforTanner’s,like,tenthbirthdayparty?Andtheyhadapony?Anditshiteverywhere.AndTannerworealittlecowboyoutfit.Andtheponybithimtwice.Onceintheback.”
“Youwerehere?Forhisbirthday?”
“Backwheneveryonewasinvitedtobirthdayparties.”Berrylookedaround.“Yah.”
“Didyouhavetobringapresent?”Iasked.
“Priceofadmission.”Berrynodded.“IthinkIbroughtapuzzle.Mydadisbigonthem.”
“Yourdadissocool,”Isniffed.
“Sometimes,”Berryconceded.
Icouldfeelmyheartbeatstartingtoslowtosomethinglessthanafranticmarchingband.
“Didyouevergetalootbag?”
“Alootbag?”Berry’sforeheadcrinkled.“Likestealing?”
“No!Alootbag.Isthatwhatyoucallit?Likeapresentyougetforgoingtosomeone’sparty,”Isaid.
“Idon’tthinkso.”Berrytappedherlip.“IthinkTanner’smomusedtogiveeveryonescentedcandlestotakehome.”
“Andyet,somehow,I’mtheweirdone.”
Berrysmirked.“IthinkImighthavebarfedbecauseIatetoomuchcake.”
“I,asyouknow,amwellacquaintedwithinappropriatefeelingsofnausea.”
Somewherebehindusagirlstartedscreamingasshewaspickedupandslungoversomeoneelse’sshoulder.“LETMEGO!HAHAHAH!YOUDICK!”
“YouknowwhoIbetthrowsgoodparties,”Ithoughtoutloud,“IbetyouMr.Davidsonthrowsreallyinterestingparties.”Ipulledmyhandsintothesleeves.Theairwasstartingtochillmynosetothetemperatureofaglassoficewater.
“Becausehewearsturtlenecks.”
“Well,Idon’tthinkthefactthathewearsturtlenecksmeanshedoesn’tthrowagoodparty,”Isaid.“Imean,Tannerprobablydoesn’townaturtleneck,andthisparty…”
“Sucks,”Berryfinished.“Okay.Look.I’mgoingintousethebathroomandthenwe’regettingtheheckoutofhereandgosomeplacewaylesshorrible.Okay?”
Inodded.“I’msorryI—”
“Nevermind.”Shegrabbedmysleeve,“Butyouhavetocomewithme.”
“Yeah,”Isaid.“You’renotgoinginTannerSpencer’shousealone.”
TherewasastrangegrayemptinesstotheSpencerhouse,andnotjustbecauseeveryonewasoutside.Thewallswereallwhiteandcoveredinposedphotosofthefamilyinvariousstiffpositions.Alltheflowersinvasesweredried,calcifiedstiff.Itsmelledlikevanillathewayahousethat’sforcedtosmelllikevanillasmellslikevanilla.
Scentedcandles,probably,Ithought,makingmywaythroughthehallwaysascarefullyaspossible.
“Thisplacemakesmenervous,”Isaid,lookingaround.
“Imaginecomingherewhenyouweresix.”
“Yikes.”
“AtleastitmeansIknowwheretheguestbathroomis,”Berrymumbled.“Ithink.”
Shefoundthebathroom.
“Okay.”Berryduckedthroughadoor.“Don’tleave.”
Istaredatgrayfurnitureaccentedwithpopsofbrightredthatremindedmeofblood.
“Iwon’tleave.”
Outsidetheshoutingroseandfelllikewaves.Thegirlwhowasscreamingearlierwasstillscreaming,andnowtherewereothershouts.Nothappyshouts.
Othershouts.
Icranedtoseeoutthewindowattheendofthehall.Theyellingwasgettinglouder.
“Berry!”Ipressedmyfaceagainstthedoor.
“GAH!Youscaredtheshitoutofme!”
“Somethingishappening!Outside.”
Therewasthesuddenslapofascreendoorbeingthrownopenandfootstepsrumblingthroughthehalls.
“There’safire!”someoneshouted.“Wecan’tgetitout.Yeah.Spencerplace.Yeah.Quick!”
“Tellthemtostoppouringboozeonit,”someoneelseshouted.
“Berry.”Ihammerednotcalmlyonthedoor.“Berry!It’safire.”
Berryburstoutofthedoorlikeasuperheroabouttotakeflight.“Comeon!”
Weboltedthroughthehallways.Outsidetherewasathickcurlofsmokeintheair.Oneofthefirepitshadtippedoverandtheflameswerestartingtospreadacrossthegrass.Therewasagroupscatteredaroundthefire.But,like,notnecessarilydoinganything.
Alittlewaysaway,IcouldseeTanneronhishandsandknees,puking.Sarahwaspattinghisbackandlookedlikeshewascrying.IsprintedtocatchupwithBerry,whohadcutacrossthegreenandslippedintoasmallshedattheedgeoftheproperty.
“Takethis,”shehollered,tossingmeashovel.Itwasaboutthesamesizeasme.
Berrygrabbedanothershovelandthentorebackthroughthegrasstowardthefire.Afewboyswereflappingattheflameswiththeirjackets,anactthatlookedlikeitwasmostlymakingthefirebigger.Gillywasnowheretobeseen.
Berrystuckhershovelinthedirtneartheedgeofthefire,thentossedaclumpovertheflames,whichdidseemtosnuffthemout.Ididthesame.
“Hey!”Tannerscreamed,fromhispukespot.“WhatthefuckareyoudoingtomyFUCKINGLAWN,youfuckingfatCOW?”Withastrangegrace,hewobbledtowardus.“Youthinkthisisyourfuckingproperty?”
“HEY!”Iheldupmyshovel,fullypreparedtoswingitlikeabaseballbat.“We’rePUTTINGOUTthefire.EventhoughYOUareanASSHOLE.Andyou’retoomuchofapatheticsaptodealwithyourownSHIT.”
“FUCKYOU,ANNE!”Tannershovedhisfaceintomine.
“NO,”Iboomedback,“FUCKYOU!”
“TANNER!”someoneinthedistanceyelled.“Someonebrokethebackdoor!”
Tannerstumbledbackward,disappearingintothecrowd.“Fuckyou,dykes.”
Inahazeofsmoke,weshoveledclumpafterclumpofdirtontheflamesuntilallthatwasleftwasthesmellofburntandbeer.Theshoutsofkidsfreakingoutweresuddenlydrownedoutbythesoundofasiren.
Berrytossedhershovelontheground.“They’rehere,”shesaid,“let’sgo.”
Ihandedmyshoveltothekidbehindme,whoturnedouttobeSarah.Shestaredatme,wide-eyed.
“Takeit,”Isaid.
Sarahblinked.Herfacelookedpuffy.Shetooktheshovel.
“Atsomepoint,”Isnapped,“you’regoingtolookbackatthisandrealizeyouweretheassholetonight.Whateverotherbullshityouwanttotellyourself.”
“BYE!”Berryadded,thenburstintoajog.
Iranafterher,slidingintohercarwhilesherevvedtheengine.Weexitedjustasthefirefightershoppedoutoftheirtruck.Littlestonesspatoutfromunderourtiresasweskiddedpastthemandswervedthroughtheopengatetotheroad.
“FuckingTannerSpencer,fuckingSarahPye,”Berrymuttered,hergripsotightonthewheelherknuckleswerelittlewhitemountains.“FuckingGillyHenderson.”
“Whatdidshethinkwasgoingtohappen?”Igrumbled.“Like,didshereallythinkSarahwasgoingtolistentome?”
Berrygrippedthewheel.
“Whenyouguysstoppedbeingfriends,didshesaywhy?Likedidyouhaveafight?”
“No.ButSarahPyedidn’tlikeme,soitdidn’ttake,like,ageniustofigureitout.Imean,theymadesureIknewwithoutthemsayinganything.”
Twolightsappearedintheroadaheadofus,whichbecamealargesilvertruckthatwasgoingfasterthanwewere,andslidpastussofastitwasgoneinablink.
“Who’sthat?”Iwonderedaloud.MaybeitwasGilly.
“Mr.andMrs.Spencer,”Berrysaid.“Backfrompoker.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
ThesoftglowfromBerry’sheadlightslitadimpathalongtheroad.Matohummedandsqueakedaswesatinsilencefortherestoftherideuntilwegottomyhouse.
“Okay,”Berrysaid,shiftingintopark.“Safeandsound.”
“Thankstoyou,”Iadded.Icrackedopenthedoor.IcouldhearMontybarkinginside.“Yousavedtheday,”IsaidasIunbuckledmyseatbelt.“Like,really.”
“Yeah.”Berrylookeddownatthesteeringwheel.“Didyougotothepartybecauseyouwantedto,like,makepeacewithSarah,orbecauseyoulikeGilly?”
“What?”
Berry’sknucklesturnedwhiteasshegrippedthewheel,“CanIjust,like—DoyoulikeGilly?Likelikeher?”
“Idon’t—”Mywordsstuckinmythroat.“Imean,IhadthismomentwheresheseemedlikesomeoneIcouldlike?”
“Eventhoughshe’ssupermeantoyou.”Berry’svoicesoundedlikecement.
“Imean,Sarahwasmean,”Icorrected.
“GillyhelpedSarahbemean.”Berryre-corrected.
“Butshetriedtospeakuptoday….”
“Forlikeasecond.”Berry’svoicecracked.“Likeonesecond.AndthenSarahsaidtoshutupandGillydid.”
“IguessIfeltlike…”Icouldfeelmypalmssweating.“Likemaybetherewasmoretoher,thanthat?”
“Right.Sure.Okay.”Berrynodded.“Okay,cool.Well.Goodnight.”
Icouldfeelsomethinginthecar,likeablanketofdisappointment,asIpeeledoutofmyseatandduckedoutthedoor.
IstayedoutsideandwaitedforBerry’sheadlightstodisappearintothenight.
“ANNE!”
Lucystoodinthedoorway,huffinglikeshewassomesortoftickingtimebomb.
“Getinhere.Right.Now.”
“What?PeopledopartiesonTuesdayhere,”Isaid,pullingoffmysweaterasIbrushedpastherintothehouse.
Inside,inthelightofourlivingroomlamps,itwasclearthatthecolorhaddrainedfromLucy’sface.
“DidyousetTannerSpencer’sbackyardonFIRE?”TWENTY
ThemostIevergotintroublewaswhenIwasinfourthgrade.IhadmyfriendRebeccaoverafterschoolonedayanddecidedweshouldhavean“adultteaparty.”
BywhichImeantateapartyforadults
Obviously.
Ican’trememberwhatmovieIorRebeccahadseenthatinspiredthatparticularcombinationofwords.ItcouldhavebeenAliceinWonderland.Rebeccahadtheideathatweshoulddrinkfromfancyglasses,anditwasmyideathatweshouldhavesomethingthecolorofteainthosefancyglasses.AndIknewjustthething!Abottleinthecabinetofthelivingroomthathadthecut-glasssurfaceIprizedandoftenranmyfingersover.
Theliquidinthebottlewasbrown,liketea.Seemedlikeasolidconnectiontome.Italso,tantalizingly,smelledlikealmonds.
And,okay,inmydefense,Iwasn’tsupposedtousethestovewhenmymomsweren’thomeandsoIthoughthavingwhatturnedouttobeamarettofromthecabinet,insteadofanythingthatinvolvedboilingwater,wasasafeandsuitablesubstitution.
UntilafewglasseslaterwhenRebeccabarfedonthecouch.
Inthatorder.
I,upset,alsobarfedonthecouch.
(WowthisstoryhaswaymorementionofbarfingthanIwasexpecting.Anyway…)
AtwhichpointMillieopenedthedoortothesightoftwoinnocentlittlegirlssittingonthecouchcoveredinbarfandcrying.IimmediatelyconfessedonceI’dstoppedbarfing(notthatIcouldhidewhathadhappenedbecauseIwasliterallysittinginit).
RebeccamovedtoMainethenextyear.TothisdayIcan’tdrinkteaorsmellalmondswithoutfeelingalittlesick.
Inthatparticularexample,Lucywasn’tthenewviceprincipalofmyschool.Andnoone’sbackyardwasonfire.Also,inthatexample,IdidthethingIwasintroublefor.
OnthenightthatIreturnedhomefrompossiblytheworstpartyever,IcouldseeassoonasIseteyesonherthatLucywasnotuptohearingmysideofthestory.Shestalkedbackandforthacrossthecarpet,makingthisgesturethatinvolvedholdingoutandstretchingherfingers,likeshewastryingtograbsomethingverybigthatwashoveringinfrontofher.Millie,meanwhile,satinherrobe,onthecouchwithanervous-lookingMontyinherlap.
WhenLucyfinallystoppedpacing,Ithoughtshemightpuke,shewassomad.“WhywereyouatTannerSpencer’shouse?”
“Iwasinvitedtoapartybyoneofhisfriends,”Isaid.“It’snotlikeIbrokein.”
LucyfoldedherarmsoverherchestsuggestingshemightthinkthatwasexactlywhatIdid.
“Telluswhathappened,”Milliesaid.
“BerryandIwenttotheparty.ItwasatTanner’shouse,whichyouknow.Theywerealldrinking.Wewerenot.Wehungoutforabit.ItriedtotalktoSarahabouttheplay.ShedidnotwanttohearanythingIsaid.Shelikereverse-racism-edme.Tanneraskedustogo.Berrywenttothebathroom.Weheardpeoplescreaming.Wecameoutandthegrasswasonfire.Berrygotashovelandwehelpedthemputthefireout.”IlookedfromMillietoLucy.“That’sit.”
Icouldn’ttellifLucywaslistening.She’dstartedpacingagainhalfwaythroughmyrivetingbutsuccinctstory.
“Lucy,”Milliesaidquietly,overthesoundofMontywhining.
“TannerSpencer’sfatherjustcalled.”Lucyspunaroundtolookatme,herhandsonherhips.“HesaidthatyouandBerrycametothepartyuninvitedandyelledatTannerandhisfriendsandwhentheyaskedyoutoleaveyoupushedoveroneofthefirepits.”
“Ididwhat?”Mystomachlandedwithasplatonthefloor.
Milliepressedherlipstogether.
“WhywouldIdothat?!”
Lucy’sphonepingedfromthecouch.Shewalkedovertothecoffeetableandpickeditup.“Well,”shesaid,swipingherscreen.“MichaelSpencerjustfollowedupwithanemail.Andthere’sanemailfromPrincipalLynde.Andtheschoolboard.”
Icouldhearalltheelectricityrunningthroughthehouse.Everybuzzcomingoutofeverylamp.Icouldhearthewindoutside.Thecrickets.ThetapofLucy’sfingersonherscreen.
“AccordingtoMr.Spencer’smessage,”Lucysaid,“Tanner,agirlnamedSarah,aboynamedJohn,andagirlnamedGillyallsawyoustartthefire.Resultinginseveralhundreddollars’worthofdamagetohisproperty.”
“Gillysaidthat?”
Wasthatherplanthewholetime?ToluremeouttoTanner’shouse?Tomakeeverythingworse?
“Why?”Millielookedatme.“WhoisGilly?”
Iseethed.“Okay,allthewitnessesareTanner’sfriends,Mom.Theyallhateme,soofcoursethey’reallgoingtolie.”
Lucywasstilllookingatherphone.“Mr.Spencersaidheisconsideringsuingmeortheschoolfordamages.”
“ButIdidn’tdoanything!Berrywasthere.Berrysawit.”
“Well,they’reaccusingBerryaswell,”Lucysaid,droppingherphoneontothecouch.“So,you’rebothintrouble.”
“I’mintrouble,”Iseethed.“WhyamItrouble?Ijusttoldyou,Ididn’tdoanything.”
“Youdidn’tgooverthereknowingyouweregoingtogetinsomesortofconflictwiththosekids?”Lucyasked,hereyessearchingmyface.
“No.”Imean,Idid.Ish.ButthenIbelievedthepersonwhoseideaitwastogooverthere.Ibelieveditwasatleastpossiblethatthingswouldn’tendupamess.
“Itoldyoutoleaveitalone.Itoldyou.”Lucylookedattheground.“Noonewinsthisfight,Anne.Notthisway.MichaelSpencerisnotgoingtobackdownfromthis.YoualreadyhavearecordedincidentofassaultingTanneratschool.”
“WithPIZZA!”
“Noyelling,”Milliesnapped.
“Youdon’tevencareaboutmysideofthestory,”Ifumed.“Youjustcareaboutyourjob.”
“Icareaboutyourdecisions.”Lucy’seyesgotwide.
“Oh,likeyoudon’tmakebaddecisions?LikeyourdecisiontocometoGreenville?Tomoveustoaplacewhereyouknewpeoplewouldbasicallyhateus?Wherethere’sbasicallyonlywhitepeople?”
“Anne.”Millieheldoutahandtowardme.
“Anne,look.I…Iknowyou’rehavingtroublehere,”Lucystammered.“Thisisn’tlikeotherplaceswe’velivedbefore.Okay?That’strue.I’mhavingtrouble.Millieishavingtrouble.We’reallhavingtodealwithconflictrightnow.Butit’showwealldealwiththatconflict.”Sheheldoutherhand,tickingoffmyoffenses.“Gettinginfights.Yellingatstudents.”
“Yelling?”Iscreeched.“Youmeandefendingmyself?”
MilliegotbetweenLucyandme.“That’sit.TIME!Everyoneneedstotakeabreath.Rightnow.”
Mybodywasabomb.“AllIdoisgotothisstupidschoolanddealwiththeirshit.Andeverydaytheyfigureoutanotherwaytomakethingsworse.ForME.That’sMYtrouble.Andnowyou’rehelpingthem.”
“That’snotwhatI’mdoing.”Lucy’svoicehummedwithfury.“I’mtryingtofindawaytomakethingsbetter.”
“Weare,”Millieaddedquietly,inwhatI’msurewasaquiet-voiceattempttogetustostopyelling.
Itdidn’twork.
“Well,it’sWORSEnow.Forme,atleast.So,thanks.”Iturned.“Goodnight.”AsIwalkedaway,Itossedastickofdynamiteovermyshoulder.Aquietbutdefinitive,“Fuckingstupid.”
“Fuckingstupid?”Lucy’svoiceboiled.“YouthinkbeingaccountableforyouractionsisFUCKINGSTUPID?YouthinkwhatMillieandIhavetosayisfuckingstupid?”
“Yeah.”Ispunaround.“Ido.”
“Well,then.”Lucycrossedherarmsoverherchest.“ThenyoucanpayfortheSpencers’lawn.Youcanpayforthedamages,notBerry.YOU!Anduntilyoudo,noschoolplay,noschoolactivities.Yougotoclassandyoucomerighthome.”
“WHAT??”
Lucyshookherhead.“Untilwecanmanagethis,untilIknowYOUcanmanagethis,youaretakingastepback.Becauserightnowwearejust—”
“I’mTHELEADinthePLAY,”Iscreamed.“ThisplayistheONLYTHINGIhaveinGreenvillethat’smine!”
Lucypoundedherfistinherpalm.“ThisisallTOOmuchanditisaffectingyourjudgmentandyouractionsandyourbehaviorindestructiveways.”
“Lucy,”Milliesaidquietly.“Let’sjustwaitandtalkaboutthistomorrow.”
“THISISTHEONLYTHINGIHAVEinthisWHOLEHORRIBLEPLACE!”Myentirefacewasascream.“YOUgettohaveyourjobandMILLIEgetsherartandIgetNOTHING!”
“ANNE!”Lucy’svoicehitfinalwarning.
Myvoicefilledtheroom.“FUCKYOURJOB.FUCKGREENVILLE.AndFUCK!YOU!”
Thewordyou,asinyou,myparents,wasthemainbit.Fuckwasnotasmuchofaprobleminmyhouse.Imean,seeabove,it’saproblem,butit’snotafireableoffense.BecauseMilliebelieves,orbelieved,inthefreedomofself-expression.Butfuckyouhasneverbeenokay.
“GOTOYOURROOM!”Lucyscreamed.
So,Idid.
Islammedthedoorsohardmycorkboardfelloffthewall.Iputmyheadphoneson,butIcouldn’tevenbringmyselftoplayanymusic.Becausewhowouldwanttobringthehappiestmusicintheworldintothismoment?
IwascryingonmybedinGreenville,myclothesstillsmellingofsmokeanddirt.
ItextedBerryahand-wavingemoji,butshedidn’tanswer.
ANNE
Hey.Tannermessagedmymomandsaidwestartedthefire.
WhatifBerry’sparentsweregivinghershitbecausetheSpencersweretryingtogethertopayforalawnshedidnothingbutsavewithherhardworkafterallTanner’sfriendscouldthinktodowaspourtheirbeersonit?MaybeBerrywasn’ttextingmebecauseshewasintroublebecauseIdraggedhertoapartybecauseItoldheritmightbefunanditwastheoppositeoffun.
ANNE
Ireallyhopetheydidn’tcallyourparentstoo.IftheydidI’msorry.Iamgoingtopayforthewholething.OK?
Therewasafamiliarwhiningatthedoor,whichIcrackedopensoMontycouldcomeinside.DownstairsIcouldhearaback-and-forthofangrywhispers.BothMillieandLucycamefromfamilieswheretheirparentsyelledateachother.So,withtheexceptionofwhathadjustgonedown,bothofthemalmostneverraisedtheirvoicesateachother,atleastnotwhenI’minthehouse.Itshouldbesomesortofsignaltothemthatwhenevertheydothisharsh-whisperroutineitdrivesMontycrazyandsheendsuphidingundermybed.
IdraggedMontyuponthebedwithmebecausewhatgoodisagoldenretrieverifnottocomfortyouinamomentwhereeverythingisterrible?
Myphonebuzzed.
GILLY
I’msosorry.
Montywhined.
ANNE
K
GILLY
ReallyIam!!!
ANNE
WellTannerjustmessagedmymomandtherestofGreenvilletosaythatmeandBerrysethislawnonfireandyouwereawitnesssomaybeIdon’twanttotalktoyourightnow
Iwaitedforaresponse.OfcoursesheknewaboutTanner.Whywouldn’tshe?Shewashisfriend.
ANNE
Goodnight.
AsetofdotsappearednexttoGilly’sname.
Thentheydisappeared.
Thentheyappearedagain.
Anddisappeared.
GILLY
I’mreallyREALLYsorry.
ANNE
Ok
Icurleduponmyside.IcouldhearMilliestompingaroundinthekitchen.Potsanddishesclattering.Timeforalate-nightstresssnack.
GILLY
Idon’tknowifthatmeantgolookatthemoon,butIdid.EventhoughIwasmadather.Itwasoutsidemywindowlikeaspotlight.DownstairsIheardMilliehummingandburningtoast,mysecondwaftofsmokeonanotherhorribledayinGreenville.TWENTY-ONE
Berrydidn’ttextmebackthatnight.
IcalledhertwicebeforeIleftforschoolthenextday(calling,thelastandfinalstrawincommunication),butnoanswer.
Isnuckoutofthehouseearly—Lucywasn’ttherewhenIgotupandMilliewasonthephone—andgottoschoolbeforethebell.IspottedBerryintheparkinglot,doingtricksonherskateboard.Theskywasgrayandannoyed,withlittlecloudsturningintoeventhickercloudswitheveryminute.
Iranover,dartingaroundcars.“Hey.”
Berryjumpedoffherboard.Shewaswearingagreensweaterwithanangrysetofeyesonthefront.“Hey.”
“Didyougetmytextaboutthemoney?Thelawn?I’mgoingtopayforit.”
“Yeah.”Berrytoedherboardforwardwithherboot.“Yeah,myparentswereprettypissedwhentheygottheemail.”
“Imean,wedidn’tdoit,”Isaid.
“Sure.”Berrykickedherboardforward.“Butweshouldn’thavegonetothatparty.”
“Iknow.”Isighed.“AndI’msorrytheywereshittytoyouandIlikedraggedyouintotheworstideaever.LikehonestlyIgotbasicallyscreamedatbymyparentsaboutityesterday.Likeabout‘mychoices.’EventhoughTannerisclearlyafuckingliar.”
IguessIexpectedBerrytobemadabouttheemail,too.ShejuststaredatmelikeIhadaglowingorbonmyforehead.
“They’remakingmequittheplay,”Iadded.“Becauseoftheemail.Andabunchofotherthings,Iguess.Thepizzafight.Allthatstuff.”
Silence.
Horrible,uncomfortable,sothickyoucouldcutitwithaknife,silence.
“Okay,well…”Itookastepbackward.“Anyway…look,I’msorryIbroughtyou.AndI’msorry—”
Berrylookedatmewithstoneeyes.“Youreallydon’tgetit.”
“Getwhat?”
Berry’scheeksturnedtheirtraditionalbrightpink.“Youdon’thavetobesorrythatIcametothepartywithyou.Idecidedtogo.Iwantedtogowithyou.Iwantedtomakesureyouwouldbeokay.”
“Iknow.Imean,thanks.Ireallyappreciateit.Imean,Iappreciate,like,everythingyoudotobeagoodfriend.You’rethebestfriend,Berry.”
Berry’seyesflickeduptotheskyjustasthefirstdropsofrainstartedfalling.“Youdon’tgetit.”
“WHAT?”Raindropspitteredandpattereddownonmyface.
AndtrickleddownBerry’scheeks.
“Nevermind.”Berryreacheddownandpickedupherboard,thewheelsspinning.
SuddenlyIwaschasingaspeed-walkingBerrythreadingthroughtheparkinglot.Likeshewastryingtoloseme.“Berry!”
Berrydidn’tlookback.“Ineedyoutogivemesomespace,okay?Pleaseleavemealone.”
TherainturnedintoatorrentasBerrysailedoff.Endlesssloppyraindrops.Andme.FeelingmorealonethaneventhatfirstnightinGreenvillewiththeendlessdarkthatwouldbemynewhome.
BythetimeImadeitintotheschoolIlookedlikeawetsponge,andnotjustbecauseIwaswearingyellowheadtotoe.Yellow,thecolorofcaution,ofwhichIapparentlyhadnone.
“Anne!”
Iswiveled,mybootssqueakingonthefloor,toseeMr.Davidsonshakingoffhisumbrellaandtakinginmyyellowfaux-furparka,whichwasnowabouttwentypoundsoffurandrainwater.“You’resoaked.Fuzzyandsoaked.”
“Yeah.”Iflappedmyarms.“Well.Yeah.Actually.Mr.Davidson.Ihavetotalktoyou.”
“Let’sgetyoudriedofffirst,”heoffered,holdingopenthedoortohisclassroom.“Wehaveafewmoreminutesbeforefirstbell,andIthinkIhavesomepapertowelsinheresomewhere.”
Magically,healsohadathermosofteaandsomecookies,whichhespreadoutonhisdeskbeforehandingmeawadofnapkins.“Helpyourself.Youlooklikeyouneedit.”
“Uh,I’llskipthetea,thanks.”Idabbedatmyjacket.“Um.SoIhavetotellyou—”
“You’requittingtheplay.”Mr.Davidsonsatdownbehindhisdesk.“Igotanemailfromyourmotherthismorning.”
“Yes,well,”Isaid,grabbinganothersheetofpapertowel.“Mymomthinks,witheverythinghappening,it’snotagoodidea.Plus,IbasicallyambeingframedforarsonrightnowbyabunchofForevers,andBerryhatesme,whichIcan’treallygetintobecauseIwilltotallylosemysh—stuff,ifIdo.”
“TheForevers?”Mr.Davidsongrabbedacookie.“WhoaretheForevers?”
“Likethepeoplewhoactliketheyhavebeenheresincelikethedawnoftime,”Iexplained,grabbingacookieformyself.
“Ah.”Mr.Davidsonbrushedthecrumbsfromhisdesk.“Isee.Well,I’llbeverysadtonothaveyouintheplay.IwaslookingforwardtoseeingyourPan.”
“Willyouchangetheplay?”Iasked,grabbinganothercookiebecausetheywerereallygood.Kindoflemony.“Becauseoftheletters.Andtheparents.Whohateit?”
“Ha-ha,no.”Mr.Davidsonflickedhishands.“No,I’mnotchangingtheplaybecausethePyesfeelostracizedbytheexistenceofartthatisn’tadirectreflectionoftheirexperiencesandtastes.ThiswholethingisapowerplaytogetSarahthelead,asI’msureyou’veguessed.Despitetheiradditionalthreattowithdrawfundingforthecostumesandsets,whichisatraditionalPyedonationtotheschool,ourPeterPanwillgoon.TrustmewhenItellyouthisisnotmyfirst,norwillitbemylast,tusslewithEttiePye.”
Hewinked.“IstarredinourhighschoolproductionofOurTownwithher,didyouknowthat?”
“No!”Iwonderifthat’swhereSarahgotherdress.
Orifhermommadeherwearit.
Hesatback,liftinguphissneakersandplacingthemonthedesk.“Youknow,”hesaid,“I’vebeenhereforaslongasanyso-calledForever.Myfamilyareverypillars-of-the-communitytypes.AndforaslongasI’vebeenhere,therehasbeenageneralresistanceinthisplacetoanythingnew.”
“Someoneelsewho’salsoapillartoldmeGreenvillehasastickupits…um…behind,”Iadmitted.
Davidsonperkedup.“HA-HA!Yes.Thatwouldbemygreat-auntBeverly!Yes,thatishercommonGreenvilleGripe.Thestick.Yes.”
“Wait.She’syourgreat-aunt?”Ididsomefastmath.“SoPrincipalLyndeisyour…”
“Cousin.”Davidsonnodded.“Yes.Sheisalsotheownerofastick,butIwilldenysayingthatifyourepeatit.”
Smalltowns.
Mr.Davidsontookalongsipoftea.“Youknow,whenIwasyoung,AuntBevusedtotakemetoseeplaysinothercities.WetookatriptoNewYorkonceandIsawGuysandDolls.”
“Really?Ilove‘SitDown,You’reRockin’theBoat.’”Igrinned.“ButI’veonlyseenthemovie.”
“MarlonBrando!”Mr.Davidsonclutchedhischestdramatically.“Heartthrob.”
“Exactly.”Ismiled.
“Gosh,that’sagreatone.”Mr.Davidsonshookhishead.“Onedaywe’llhavetoputasidesometimetocompareourloveofmusicals.OH!AndweshouldinviteBeverly.Youknowshewasquitetakenwithyouthedayyouallcametotakeherportrait.”
Theschoolbellrang.Mr.Davidsongathereduphisteaandcookies.Thenhelookedatme,pointedly.“Don’tquit.”
“Mymom—”Istarted.
“I’lltalktoyourmom.”Hetossedthelotofwetnapkinsinthebinjustasthedooropenedandstudentsfloodedin.
“Okay.”
“Cometorehearsaltoday.”
“Okay.”Icouldfeeltearsstingingthecornersofmyeyes.“Thankyou,”Isaid.“Really.Like.Thankyou.”
Mr.Davidsonwavedmeoffwithagentleflick.“Seeyouafterschool.”
Mr.Davidson,clearly,wasoneofthefewpeopleinGreenvillewhoapersoncouldcallakindredspirit.BywhichImeanthathewasclearlyafellowloverofmarvelousthings.
Itrulyhopedhealsoloveddisco.
Iskitteredoutoftheclassroomandintothehallway,whichwasfloodedwithstudents,amixofForeversandlocalsandprobablyabunchofkidsinbetween,jostlingandshovingeachotherdownthehall,tryingtomakeittotheothersideoftheday.
Isteppedforwardandwassweptintotheflow,notreallysureofanythingbeyondtheonepersonIneededtofind.
Berry.
Whodidn’twanttotalktome.AndbythetimeIgottohomeroom,wasnowheretobefound.TWENTY-TWO
BetweenlookingforBerryandgettingfull-onglaresfromTanner,Sarah,andGillyfortherestoftheday,itwaskindofamess.ItwaslikeeverysecondbetweentalkingtoMr.Davidsonandgoingtorehearsalwaslikeanotherpinbeingpushedintomybrain.
Likehere’showupsetIwas:
Iorderedpizzaforlunch.Greenvilledisgustingpizza.AndthenIateitbymyself,sittingonthestill-wetstepswritinganddeletingtextstoBerry.
Imean,look,Itakeaperson’srequestforpersonalspaceveryseriously.Ifsomeonesaystheyneedyoutobackoff,youabsolutelyneedtobackoff.ButtherewasalsothelookBerrygavemerightbeforesheskatedoffintotherain.LikeIwasthebiggestnumbbrainever.Like,okay,notunlikethelookIwassureIwasgivingLucythenightbefore.
SoIdidn’tsendthemanytextsIwrotetoBerry.
Meanwhile,Icouldn’tmissthelookGillygavemefromherseatatthelunchtablewithSarahandTannerandJohn.Likesomefugitivemessageofconcernlobbedatmefrominsidethefortorsomething.
Iwasn’tupforit.Like.Everythingwasfallingapart;Icouldn’taffordtodoonemorethingthatwouldtakethegroundoutfromunderme.MaybeLucywasright.Maybeallmychoicesweremakingeverythingworse.Foreveryone.
Butthen,ofcourse,bythatstandard,afterschoolIcouldhavejustgonehomeandnotgonetorehearsal.
ButMr.Davidsonseemedsosure.Andasliverofmejustdidn’twanttogiveup.SoIwent.
Rehearsalswereafterschoolinthechemistrylab,ofallplaces.Iguessbecausethebandwasinthemusicroom.OnthewaythereIranintofuturemagicalfairy,Minnie,withnewandimprovedwingsonherback.Andevenmoreeyeliner.Itwaslikeherfacewasmorphingintoafairyfacemoreandmoreeveryday.
“Youlookawesome,”Icheered.
“Coathangers!”Shepointedatherback.
“Theyworkedgreat.”
“Anne!”Mr.Davidsonpoppedhisheadoutofthedoorwayofthechemistrylab.“Hey,Minnie!Comeonin.”
Inside,GillyandTannerandSarahandJohnweresittingatthechemtableatthefrontoftheroom.Gillywaskindoffoldedinonherself.Shelookedupatmewithhugeeyeswhenwewalkedin.Shelooked…surprised.
“Hi,”Isaid.“Uhhhhh.”
Minnielookedaroundtheroom.“Awkward,”shewhispered.
“No.”Tannerstoodupfromhisstool,shakinghishead.“Whatthefuckisshedoinghere?”
“Tanner!”Mr.Davidsonclappedhishandstogether.“Iwillnothavethatlanguageinthisroom.”
“You’renotsupposedtobehere,”Sarahaddedfromherperch,withalevelofassurancethatseemed…weird.
Like,wasthesmalltownrumormillthatstrongthateveryonealreadyknewtheresultsfrommyfightwithLucythenightbefore?Westilldidn’thavecurtainsup.Wasthatit?
IscannedSarahandTanner’sfaces,avoidinglookingatGilly.
OrdidtheyjustthinkitwasobviousthataccusingmeofanactualcrimewouldbeasolidwayoftakingPeterPanawayfromme?
“MissShirleyisaplayerinourtroupe.”Mr.Davidsonclosedthedoorwithadecisiveclickandturnedbacktotheclassroom.“Andasamemberofthiscast,sheisherefor—”
“Shealsodestroyedmybackyard,”Tannercutin.“Therewas,uh,majordamage?Somaybeadestructivepersonlikethatshouldn’tbeallowedtobetheleadinaschoolplay?”
Imean,abriefstudyofthehistoryofactorswouldsayotherwise,butIdigress.
SuddenlyIcouldpictureTannerandhisdadlookingatwhatevercharspotontheirbacklawnwasleftafterweputoutthefire.IcouldseeTanner’sdadtypingtheworddamageintohisemail.Somethingaboutthatwordwaslikeakineticbombinmybrain.
Damage?
Tohislawn???
IwantedtojumponTanner’sheadandscream.
Howaboutmylawn,youjerk?Howaboutthelawnyouandyourterriblefriendsspray-paintedandInevereventoldanyone!BecauseI’mnotadick!Andyouare!
ButbeforeIcouldthinkofjumpingorscreaming,IfeltMr.Davidson’shandonmyarm.
“Myoriginalunderstandingofyourinitiallystatedquarrel,Sarah,reinforcedbyyouandyourmother’sletterandlettercampaign,”heexplained,smoothly,“wasthatyouwereconcernedthatthecontentoftheplaywasnottoyourstandardsandwasinconflictwiththeheritageandvaluesoftheschool.Ihaveaddressedtheseconcernswithyourmotherandwithalllevelsoftheschooladministrationatameetinganhourago,atwhichpointInotedthatPeterPanwasoneofthefirstproductionsatthisschool,andtheoriginalproductionfeaturedafemalelead.Sothisplayanditscastareentirelyinkeepingwithourvalues.Andso,wewillbeperformingPeterPan.AndAnnewillbeourlead.”
Didthatmeanhe’dtalkedtomymom?Also,coolabouttheschool’shistorywithPeterPan!
IstaredatthesideofMr.Davidson’sface.Hisjawflexed.
“Okay,yeah,well,it’salsoclearthatshe’sgotsomevendettaagainstus,somaybeit’snotokayforhertobeintheplay,”Sarahsniped.“Maybeit’saboutthatnow.”
“Thatwouldbeamattertotakeupoutsideofthisproduction,”Mr.Davidsonrebutted.“Forthemoment,wewillcontinuewithrehearsals.”
Ahotstillnesssettledovertheroom.PossiblybecauseIwasstillbubbling.
“Whatifwe’renotokaywiththat?”Sarahsaid,lookingatTanner.
Therewasascufflingontheothersideofthedoor.Likesomeonewaslistening?Then,likeoutofnowhere,Minnieletoutalonggroan.“Oh,whatEVER,Sarah.Giveitafuckingbreak.”
“Language,Minnie,”saidMr.Davidson.
Someoneelsesnickered.
“Oh,youthinkthisisfunny?”Tannerwasdialinghisphone.“I’mcallingmyfather.”
Taylor,thekidwiththedrums,satup.“Canwejustrehearsewithoutyoucallingyourdad,dude?Like,comeon.”
“Mr.Spencer.”Mr.Davidson’svoicewastight.“Pleaseputyourphoneawayforthedurationofthisrehearsal.”
“Shefuckingtriedtosetmyhouseonfire.”Tannerpointedatmewithhisphone,whichwasstillringing.“That’sfraud.”
Sarahcrossedherhandsoverherchestandboredaglareintomychest.Noonesaidanythingabouthowtechnically,okay,ifIhadsetTanner’slawnonfire,whichIdidn’t,itwouldhavebeenarsonandnotfraud.
Also,comeon,that’sfunny.
Tannerheldhisphoneuptohisear.“Dad?”
“Stop.”Gillypulledherselftoherfeet.Orfoot.Sinceshewasstillinherboot.Shelookedlikeasmalltreespringingupfromtheground.Atinytree,butstillatree.
Tannerlookedup,seething.“I’monthephone.”
Gillyheldupherphone.“Okay,well,tellyourdadthatIhavetextsfromSarahthatsaysomeotherkidknockedoverthefirepitthatnight,notAnneorBerry.”
“GILLY!”Sarahspunaroundtostareather.
Gilly’svoicewavered,“T-tellhimyoutoldVicePrincipalShirleythatIwasthere,butIwasn’tbecauseIwenthomebeforethefireevenstarted.Andmydadpickedmeup,sohecanverifythat.TellhimIsaidI’llshowthetexttoVicePrincipalShirley,Tanner,ifyoudon’tstopthis…now.”
Tannerfroze,hisphoneaninchfromhischeek.Icouldhearhisdadshoutingthroughthespeaker.
Tannerhungup.
Sarahtossedherpagesdownontothefloorwithaslap.“Fuckyou,Gilly.”
Mr.Davidsonswayedslightly.“Ohmy”escapedhislips.
Gillytookadeepbreath.“No.Fuckyou,Sarah.”
“OKAY!”Mr.Davidsonhelduphishandsandsteppedintothelineofrage.“That’senoughf-bombsfortoday.SarahandTannerandGilly,that’satleastonetoomanyeach,soyoucangototheofficeandpickupadetentionslip.Everyoneelse.”Hesighedandlookedathiswatch.“That’sawrapfortoday.We’lltakethisuptomorrow.Sohaveyourlinesmemorized.”
TheForevercrewfiledoutoftheroom,eachtakingalonglookatmeastheyleft.Gillywasstillstrugglingwithhercrutches,whichclearlyTannerandSarahweren’tgoingtohelpherwithanymore.
“Hey.”Isteppedforward,pullingbackastoolsoshecouldgetout.“Thanks.”
“Imean.”Shepulledacrutchintoposition.“ItwaskindoftheleastIcoulddo.”
“Well,thankyouanyway.”Islidoutofherway.“I’msorryyoukindof—ImeanI’msorryyoulost—ImeanI’msorryyourfriends—”
“Areassholes,”Gillyfinishedforme,hoppingforward.“Thiswholetownisfullofassholes.”
“Iusedtothinkthesamething,”Isaid,“buttobehonestGreenvilleiskindofprovingmewrong.Likemoreandmoreeveryday.AndI’malsokindofanassholesometimes.”Ipointedatmyselfwithmythumbs.“LikeI’mcoolbutI’mALSOapersonwhostartspizzafights,so…”
“Yeah.”Gillystaredatthedoor.“Yeah.I’mprettysurethey’renotgoingtotalktomeagain.”
“Youneverknow.”Ishrugged.
“Yeah,whentheydecidethey’renottalkingtosomeone,theykindofsticktoit,”Gillytoldme.
“Well,I’mtalkingtoyou,”Ioffered.“Youknow,ifyou’reintothat.”
Anideaflashedoverherface.“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“DoyouwanttocomewithmetotheFallDancenextweekend?SinceI’llprobablybegoingbymyself.”Hereyesgotwide.“Notthatthat’swhyI’maskingyou.”
Myfacegothot.“Whyareyouaskingme,then?BecauseI’mtalkingtoyou?”
Gillyshookherhead.“No!Iwanttogowithyou.Tothedance.Because…”Asmallsmilecurledthecornersofherlips,“You’reprettycool,likeIsaid.Whatdoyousay?”
Shereachedoutandtouchedmyhand.Whichalmostcausedhertofallover.
Youknowwhenthatthingyou’vebeenkindofsecretlydreamingofhappensandthensuddenlythatsecretdreamisrevealedandyoufeel,like,exposedandgiddyandscaredallatonce?
“Okay.”
Gilly’sphonebuzzed.“Oh,that’smydad,Ibet,”shesaid.“Igottago.Butit’sadate,right?”
“It’sadate.”
GillyhoppedawayandIsatdowninaseatintheemptyroomthatwasoncethesiteofmystandoff.
Ilookedatmyphone.
TherewerethreetextsfromBerry.
BERRY
Hey.Ihopeeverythinggoesokaytoday.
BERRY
Youdeservetobeastar.
BERRY
JustFYI.
Withoutthinking,ItappedthelittleBerryicononmyphone,whichwasapictureofoneofthesculpturesfromhersecretgarden,andcalledher.
Peopledothat,youknow:justcall.
Suddenlytherewasaringinginthehallwayveryclosetothedoor.IboltedoutoftheroomtofindBerryfranticallysilencingherphone.
“HEY!”
“HEY!”Literallyeverypartofherfacewasred.Withhergreenhair,shelookedlikearadish.But,like,inacoolway.
“Ididn’tknowyouwerehere.”
“Oh.”Berryshovedherphoneinherpocket.“Iwasjustcheckingonyou.Tomakesureyouwereokay.”
“Sincehowlong?”
“Imean,IheardDavidsontellSarahoff.”Berrysmiled.“AndIheardGillystickupforyou.That’sprettynice.And.Imean,yeah.”
“Soyouheardthewholethingbasically.”
ThesmileslippedfromBerry’slips,replacedwiththesamelookfromthismorning.
“I’mgladGillystoodupforyou,”shesaid.“AndI’mgladyou’reokay.”
AndwiththatBerryhoppedonherboard,riskingPrincipalLynde’swrath,andzippeddownthehallway.
Reallynotwantingtoriskanywrath,IwalkedtothefrontstepsandIstrappedonmyskates.DianaRoss’s“UpsideDown”blastedonmyheadphonesasIroundedoutoftheparkinglotandheadedhome,chasingthelastsliversoflight.TWENTY-THREE
Thatnight,whenIgothomefromoursecondsomewhat-failed-but-ultimately-very-successfulplayrehearsal,Lucy’scarwasinthedriveway,butnotMillie’s,andMontydidn’tdoher“Anneishome”barkwhenIopenedthedoor.
“Hello?”
“Inhere.”
Lucywaswaitingformeinthelivingroom,inaverywornpairofyogaleggingsandhersecond-favoriteschoolmascotsweatshirt,celebratingtheHomervilleBearswithapictureofabearthatIswearisapanda(notabear),butnooneasksmeaboutthesethings.Shelooked…tired.Herhairwasdownandnotsprayedupintoahelmet.Whichwasinteresting.
“Where’sMillie?”Iasked.
“Milliethoughtweshouldtalk,”Lucysaid.“Alone.”
“Okay.”Idumpedmybag.“Youmeanabouttheplay?Mr.Davidsontoldmeyouthoughtitwasokay.Right?”
“Yes.”Lucyshookherhead.“Imean,no.”
Ifroze.“I’mconfused.”
“No,Ijustwantedtosay—”Lucysteppedforward.“IjustwantedtosayI’msosorry,Anne.I’msosorryIdidn’tbelieveyou.Iknewyoudidn’tdoanythingtotheSpenceryard,butIdidn’ttellyouthat.IshouldhaveandI’mveryverysorry.It’sjustwitheverythinghappening,IgotsocaughtupwithbeingworriedabouttheyouwhoismydaughteratGreenvilleandallthat’sgoingonthatIforgotabout…you.”
Lookingather,inherownskin,arareoccasion,IrealizedthatwhileIspentaweekinawhiteT-shirttryingtofitin,Lucyhadspenteverydaysinceshe’darrivedinGreenvilleinacrispgreenprisonsuit,tryingtogetGreenvilletotreatherlikeanyoneelsedoingherjob.
“So,I’mverysorry.”
“Thankyou,”Iblurtedout.“AndI’msorryItoldyou,youknow,‘fuckyou.’”
“Thankyou.”Lucyletoutalongslowbreath.“Iknewthiswasgoingtobehard,IknewGreenvillewasgoingtobehard.”
“Mediumhard,”Ijokedhalfheartedly.“Standardhard.”
“Reallyhard,”Lucyadded.“Iknowyouhandleyourselfsowellwithallthisstuff—mostly.We’vebeensomanyplacesandyouadapt,you’remuchbetteratthisthanmewhenIwasyourage.IthinksometimesIforgetthatit’sabigthingtoaskateenagertohandleherselfwellwhenitseemslikeeveryone’sagainstyou—likeeveryonewantsyoutobreak.IforgetthatasmuchasIknowwhatit’sliketobeontheoutside,Idon’tknowwhatit’slikeforyoutobeontheoutside.Idon’tknowwhatit’sliketobetheonlypersonwholookslikeyouinawholetown.Imean,IknowbutIdon’tknow.AndIshouldhavetalkedtoyouaboutitmore,andI’msorry.”
Alumpswelledinmythroat.“Imean…theywantedtoseeusbothfail,right?Maybeforreasonsthatweredifferentbutkindofsimilar?Idon’tknow.”
“Isthathowitfeels?”Lucyletoutanotherlongbreathandputanotherelasticinherhair,whichwasclearlyalreadytiedupwithatleasttwoelastics.
“Yeah,”Isaid.“Itfeelsprettyhorrible.”
“Idon’tknowhowtomakethisbetter,”Lucyadmitted.“Ireallydon’t,Anne.It’smyjobandIdon’t.AndeverynightIgotobedandItrytothinkofhowtomakeitbetter,andeverynightIcan’tthinkofanything.SoIjustliethereandworry.”
“Imeanyoudidmostofitalready,”Isaid.“NomatterwhatsomeofGreenvillesays,andalotofwhatitsayssucks,IknowyouandMillielovemeforwhoIam.Youtellmethatallthetime.Likeamilliontimes.Youtaughtmehowtodiscoandletmerunwiththat.IamonehundredpercentmeandIknowyouandMilliearecoolwiththat.Ithinkthere’slotsofkidswhodon’tgetthatfromtheirfamilies.Youknow,hereinGreenvilleeven.”Ismiled.“So,goodjob.”
“Hey.”Lucywipedhereyeswithhersleeve.“I’msupposedtobegivingyouthespeech.”Hervoicewascroaky.
“Yougavemeallthespeeches,”Isaid.“So,so,so,somanyreallygreatandlet’ssaywell-thought-outspeeches.AndyouapologizedfornotbelievingmewhenItoldyouIdidn’tsetTanner’shouseonfire.Sowe’regood.Andpleasedon’tstopwhatyou’redoing.Iwon’tletyoufail,Mom.Imean,we’renotfailing.You’renot.Sogotosleep.”
“Thanks,kid.”
“AndI”—Itookadeepbreath—“Ishouldhavetoldyou,youknow,whatwashappening.SoI’lldothatnow.”
“Yes.”Lucylookeddeepintomysoul.“Youhavetotellus,Anne,wewon’tbreakifyoutellussomethingfeelsbroken.Okay?”
“Okay.”
ThefrontdooropenedwithadramaticslamasMontyboundedintheroomthewaygoldenretrieversdo,likethere’sapartygoingthattheyalmostmissed.
“Okay,that’sgood.”Lucybitherlip.“Weloveyousomuch,kiddo.”
“Damnrightweloveyou,kid.Weloveyouwithallourbonesandmuscles,”Milliecrowed.
AndthenMontyjumpedonme,andIcrashedtothefloorandbonkedmyheadonthesidetable.
Smalldetourtobigfamilyhug,butwegotthere.
Cryingisgoodforyou,didItellyouthat?It’slikethebody’sfiltrationsystem.Soit’sprobablygoodwespenttherestoftheeveningwatchingalive-actionCinderellaandcrying.
Whodoesn’t—ifnotlove—thenatleastappreciate,ameanstepmother?
(Relax!Notme!Anymore!Geez.)
Thatnight,Mr.Spencersentaveryshortemailsayinghewouldnolongerbeseekingdamages.Hedidn’tsaywhy,butIcouldguess.AndwejustsortofletthatgobecauseIdothinkthere’sarightandwrongwaytowincertainbattles.PlusIhadtwomomswholovedmeandafriendwholookedoutformeandadate.WhatdidIcareaboutadicklikeMr.Spencer?
Thenextmorning,LucyandMillieconfirmedboththatIwouldbeabletobetheleadinPeterPan(yes!)andbeabletogotothedancewithGilly(yes!).TWENTY-FOUR
Leadinguptotheplay,ontopofrehearsingforPeterPan,whichisascriptthatisjustwaymorecomplicatedthanyouthinkitis,mostofmytimewasspentdrowninginfabric,becauseinadditiontoplayingthestarringrole,Iwasalsotheonlypersoninthecastwhocouldsew.ExceptforSarah’smother,thatis,whoinformedMr.DavidsoninwhatIheardwasaprettysnippyemail,thatshewasmakingSarah’sWendycostume.Butnooneelse’s.
Fortunatelyforus,weatleasthadthefundingforthecostumes,careofournewpatron,theenigmaticandexuberantBeverlyLynde,whowroteachoiceletteraboutthePyesthatIwon’tsharebecauseitwasveryfunny,butveryrude.Therewasalsoacheckenclosed.
Imadeallsixpirates’,sixLostKids’,andHook’scostumes.BecauseGillyneededtostayoffherfeet,shewasasittingLostKid,withbigbell-bottomstocoverhercast.
Withthescraps,ImadeextrapirategearforMontyandBjorn.Theylookedadorable.Bjornhatedhisandatethebottomhalf,andIhadtothrowitawaybasically.
FormycostumeIwasprettymuchset,asanyfashionistawouldbe.Ialreadyhadthetights,IjustneededtostonethemandtakeinmytunicsoitlookedmorePanlike.MinnieandIactuallystonedourtightstogether.Minniewasuppinghermakeupandaccessoriesgameeachday,whichwascatchingonwiththecheerleadinganddebateteams,somaybethere’shopefortherestofGreenvilleyet.
Ohright.Yeah,TannerandSarahandJohnallstayedintheplay.Like,thedayafterourstandofftheyshowedupforrehearsalswiththeirlinesmemorizedandeverything.IthinkSarahandTannerespeciallyreallywantedtobethere.SarahwaslikeputtingintheworkasWendyeveryrehearsalandaskingfornotesandeverything.
SoafterTannertriedtosetmeandBerryupforarson,wesettoworkrehearsingoursword-fightingscene,whichwasalittlenerve-rackingconsidering.AndafterwardTannercameuptomewiththis,like,weirdlyapologeticvibeandaskedmeifIcouldfindhimbuttonsforhiscufflinks(weendedupusingsomefromLucy’svice-principaldrag).
MaybeGreenvillejustallhadthispent-upcreativityandtheyjustneededtoletitout?LikethegamechangerwaswhenwegotTannerhishat.SuddenlyeverytimeIturnedaround,therehewasinthehallwayworkingontheseone-handedflourisheswithhisfeatheredhatandnosoccerjersey!Like,Ididn’tevenknowTannerhadregularshirts.Hedoes!
WiththeleftoverBevmoney,Mr.Davidsonorderedaproperflyingapparatus.Itwasacomplicatedharnesswithindustrialstrapsthatwassomehowsupposedtofitundermytunic.Thefirsttimetheystrappedmeinandthreekidsfromthesoccerteamhoistedmeupoverthestage,Lucynearlypassedout.
“It’snotasdangerousasroller-skating,”Ireasoned,danglingoverherheadwhilemystomachmusclesstrainedtokeepmefromlookinglikeadeadspider
“Don’ttellmethat,”LucygrumbledasIspunandfinallywasloweredtotheground.
Gillyalsodidn’tthinkitlookedsafe.
“I’mjustflyinginandflyingout,”Ireasoned.“Plustheguysthey’llhavethenightoftheshowwillbeprofessional…hoisters.”
Acoupleofdaysbeforethedance,MillieaskedmewhatwasgoingonwithBerry.
Ididn’tsayit,butIwaslookingforBerry,likealot,inschool.EverytimeIturnedacorner,shewasflyingoutofwhateverroomIwasin.Ineveryclassshecameinlastandleftfirst,spendingmostofhertimewithherfaceburiedinabook.Shealsowasn’treplyingtomytexts.Eventhereallyfunnyones
WheneverItalkedtoMillieaboutit,shegotthisweirdlookonherface.Likethislittlewrinkleinherforehead.
“ShouldIcallher?”
“Doyouwantto?”Millieasked.
“Yeah.Imean,Imissher.”Everytimesomethinghappened,I’dthinkabouttalkingtoBerryaboutit.LikewhenIwasflying,IwantedtolookdownandseeBerrywavingatmewithherfuzzygreenhair.
Iwantedtoknowshewasokay.
Iwantedtotalktoher,butIdidn’tknowwhatIneededtosay.
Thenightofthedance,Itookoutmytuxedoagainandlaiditoutonthebed.LucypeekedinjustasIwasputtingtogethermyshoesandaccessories.
“Thevelvettuxedo,”shesaidappreciatively.“It’sveryyou.”
“Itis,isn’tit?”
Lucywipedhereyeswithhersleeve.Shewaswearinghersweatshirtwiththelogothatwasawoodpecker(asaschoolmascot!).Ihadsuggested,andLucywasthinkingaboutit,thatshestarta“schoolmascot”dayatschoolsoshecouldwearherfavoritesweatshirtstoschool.
“YouknowIwasthinkingabouthowyousaidit’sgoodI’mstayingAnneinGreenville,”Isaid,pullingoutasparklybowtieandthenputtingitback.Toomuch.“IthinkIcanbeAnneofGreenvilletoo.”
“Yes,youcan.”Lucypulledoutsomethingfrombehindherback.Ahugecorsagewithgiantorangeroses.“Becausetheysellthesehere.”
“ORANGEROSES!”Isquealed.“AHHHHHHHHH!THANKYOU!”
Montywhinedfromthedoorway.Eitherbecauseshefeltleftoutorbecauseshehadtopee.
“I’llwalkher,”Lucysaid,releasingmefromthehug.“Yougetdressed.”
“Thanks,Mom.”
“Andhavefun!”shecalledfromthestairs.
Technicallyavelvettuxedowantsforatophat,butIfiguredmyfirstdance,Iwouldjustdobighairinstead.Soseveralcansofhairspraylater,onceIhadmoldedmyhairintoashapeIwasthinkingofas“campfirebig,”Ifloateddownthestairs.IwouldsayIlookedlikeaCreamsicle.LikeavelvetCreamsiclewithacloudofsherbethairontop.
“TA-DA!”Iassumedajauntyposeatthebottomofthestairs.
MilliesaidshethoughtIlookedlikeafancycheesestick.WhichIaccepted.
“Allright,then,FredAstaire,”Milliesnorted,grabbingherrobetocoverherpajamas.“Comeon,Monty.TrynottogettoomuchfuronCaptainOrangeaswedrivehertothedance.”
“EmpressOrange,”Icorrected,takingafewlongstepstomakesurethepantswouldn’tsplit.Youneverknowwithvintagetrousers.AndreallythelastthingIneededwasacrotchincident.
Bythetimewegottotheschool,theparkinglotwasfull.Kidswerespillingoutofcars,posingforselfies,hugging,dancingtowardthefrontdoor,whichsomeonehaddecoratedwithfallleavesandawonkybuteffectivecut-outpumpkin.
“Havefun!”MilliecalledoutasIstoodonthecurb,peelingalayerofMontyfuroffmylegs.
“Iwill,”Icalledback.
Istrodeuptothefrontsteps,adjustingmycoat.IpassedthekidMarcuswhowasplayingaLostBoyandagirlnamedJenniferwhowasinmymathclass.
ButnoGilly.
Ididn’twanttositandruinmypants,soIstoodofftothesideofthesteps,tryingtolookcasualandnotworried.Casualbutcool.
“Anne.”
Berrysteppedupontothecurb.
“HolyCOW!”
Herhairwasupandsprayedintoapoufofgreen.Insteadofherusualcoverallsshewaswearingablack-and-green-checkeredblouseandliquid-blackleggingswithbootsthatbuckleduptothekneewithacid-greenclasps.Herlipswerepaintedbrightgreentomatchtheglitteraroundhereyes.Shelookedlikewhatacoolalienwouldlooklikegoingtoprom,inthenineties.
NotthatIwasthere,inthenineties.
Shelookedreally,reallycool.
BerrywasclearlyovercomebyhowcoolIlooked.“Wow!Nicetux!”
“Imean!Youlookamazing.”Igawked.“Wheredidyougetthatshirt?DidyougetthatfromGreenville?”
“Itwasmydad’s.”Berryshrugged.“Heusedtobecool.WhatcanIsay?”
“Yourdadisclearlythebest,”Imarveled.
“Youhaven’texperiencedthefashionmarvelthatisHarryBlythe,”Berryadded.“Youshouldseewhathewearsonhisbirthdays.Itis…awholething.”
“I’lltakeyourwordforit.”Irubbedmychininexaggeratedevaluation.“Imean,maybeI’mcomingovertoyourhousetoraidyourdad’scloset.”
“I’msurehe’dbethrilled.”Berryputherhandsonherhipsassheassessed.“Butthis,thisreallytakesthecake.I’msorryIunderestimatedthetuxearlier.Itisverycool.”
“Hey.”Withoutwarning,arippleofnervousranthroughmybody.“I’velikereallymissedyou.”
“Oh.”Berrylookedatherboots.“Yeah.Well.Ijust,yeah.”
“Canwe,like,Iwouldlovetohangoutwithyouagain?”
AndtheneverythingwasslowmotionasBerrylookedupatme.Withherbigeyesandherfreckledcheeks.
AndIgotit.
“Berry.”Thenameescapedfrommylips.
HowcouldIhavemissedit?Thispersonwhojustshowedupandwassoamazingfromthefirstmoment?Thissecret-gardenpainter,asphaltrider,myfriend,mysuperhero,hadbeenmytruetruethiswholetime.
“Anyway.Iknowyou’rewaitingforyourdate.”Berrypointedatthedoor.“Ishouldgoin.Makeanappearance.”
Therewasaseriesofsharphonks.IlookeduptoseeGilly’shandwavingoutthewindowofabigblacktruck.
“Hey!Anne!”shecalled.
TherewasaslightmetallicrattlingofbucklesasBerrydisappeared.“Bye.”
Andthenitwasliketherewasjustthisbigemptyspace.ABerry-shapedspace.
“Hey!”Gillyhobbledforwardasherdadhonkedandroaredoff.“You’rehere!AmIlate?”
“No.”Icouldn’tbreathe.“Uh.Imean,noworries.”
Gilly’shairwasallpinnedupwithlittlefloweryclips,andshewaswearingayellowdresswithlittleyellowflowersonit,withamatchingyellowsweater.Hercheekswereflushfromtheshortwalkfromthetruck,andsheleanedonacrutchtowipethesweatoffherforehead.“Geez,thesecrutchesmakeeverythingtakeforever.”
“Youlookgreat,”Isaid,tryingtoshakewhateveritwasthatwasmakingeverythingfeellikemolasses.
HowcouldInothavenoticed?
“Hey!”TannerwaswearinganavysuitmatchingSarah’snavydress.Theywavedastheywalkedtowardus.
“Hey,”Gillysaid,cautious.
“Youguyslookgreat,”Sarahsaidquietly.“Areyougoingin?”
“Yeah,”Gillysaid,“inasecond.”
“Okay,well.”Tannernodded.“We’llseeyouinthere.”
Gillyseemedtowaittilltheywereoutofearshottoreleasearelievedsigh
“So,youguysareallgood,”Iaskedinalowvoice.Iwonderedifthey’dtalkedsincethechemlabfight.Maybenot.Imeanwe’dallspentaweekinrehearsals,soIknewGillywasatleastabletobeinthesameroomasTannerandSarah,butIhadn’tseenthemtalk.
“Yeah.”Gillytouchedherchintohershoulder.“Imean,Sarah’sbeentextingme,moreandmore,Isuppose.Shewasangry,but…Ithinkwe’restillfriends?Idon’tknow,Iprobablyshouldhavestoodupformyselfalongtimeago.”Shelookedupatme.“I’msorryIaskedyoutodoit.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Attheparty?Ithought.Ifyoutalkedtothem.Like,theneverythingwouldbefine,youknow?Andwecouldallhangout?Itwouldbefixed.”
“Yeah,well,”Isaid,“itprobablywouldhavebeenbetterifyouhadtalkedtothem.Sincethey’reyourfriends.”
“Maybe.”Gillysmiledupatme.“Butitallworkedout!Wedon’thavetotalkaboutitanymore.”
Achillcreptupmycoatsleeve.Shedidn’treallygetit.Imean,sheaskedmetofixsomethingsheneededtofix.Afterallthathappened?Andnowitwasjust…fine,inhereyes?
“Um.Okay,”Ioffered.“Whatdoyouwanttotalkabout?”
Gillylookedovermytuxedo,hereyespausingonmymultipleaccessories.“That’squitethe,uh,outfit.”
Itookthistomeanshewantedtotalkaboutmyoutfit.Iflexedthelapels.“Thanks.Ilikeyourstoo!”
“Thanks.”Gilly’sheadbobbedslightly.Thenshelookedlikeshewantedtochangetheconversationagain.Asilencestretchedoutbetweenuslikegum.
FinallyIcuttheawkwardwith,“Wecouldgointothedancenow,ifyou’relike,ready?”
“Yeah,soundsgood.”Gilly’shandsgrippedhercrutches.“Let’sgo.”
Thegymwasdecoratedmostlywiththeorange-and-green-fabricleavesyougetatcraftplaces,allofwhichfaintlysmelledlikevanilla,whichcombinedwiththesmellofteensweattocreateacuriousGreenvillefunk.Thefunkdidnotmatchthemusic,whichwas,Iwouldsay,moderndanceelectronica.
“Sorry,Ican’treallydance,”Gillyyelledoverthebassaswemadeourwayintothegym.
“It’sokay,”Iyelledback.“Thismusickindofsucksanyway.”
“What?”Shehadn’theardme.
“Nothing!”
Gillydidthatlittlenodagain.
IscannedtheroomforBerry.Imeanhowhardcanitbetofindsomeonelimegreeninaseaofpastelsandnavyformalwear?
TannerwalkedoverwithachairandputitnexttoGillysoshecouldsit.ItookGilly’scrutchesandleanedthemagainstthebackofthechair.
Gillyrestedherhandsinherlap.“Iguessit’sprobablynotasexcitingasotherdancesyou’vebeento.”
“It’sprettymuchthesame!”Inoddedalongwiththemusic.
GillyshoutedsomethingIcouldn’thearoverthebass,soIleanedcloser.“What?”
“Nothing,”sheshoutedback.“Ilovethissong!”
Asthebassbuiltonthedancefloor,moreandmorekidsstreamedintothecrowd,jumpinginunisonliketheyweretryingtosmashaholeinthefloortogether.
Somehow,Iwasstandingwiththesamegroupofkidsthat,like,aweekearlierhadtriedtoerasemefromGreenvilleHighexistence,anditfeltlikeIwasstillstandingontheedgeofacliff.
BecauseIstillwasn’twhereIneededtobe.
Myeyesdartedoverthecrowd.That’swhenthemusiconthedancefloorfaded,andthefirstbeatsoftinnymetalfunkcameovertheloudspeakers.TannershotSarahaconfusedlook.Isearchedtheauditoriumforanexplanation.
“Didyouputthison?”IaskedGilly.
“Putwhaton?”Gillyshrugged.
“‘Funkytown.’”
“Wait.”Gillylookedupatme.“Isthis,like,yoursong?”
“It’sasongIlike,”Ishouted.“Like,alot.”
Gillynoddedblankly.“Oh.Right.”
IturnedandspottedBerrystruttingalongtheedgeofthedancefloor,aflashofgreenhop-steppingalongthesidelines.
Berry.
“Gilly!”Isquatteddownbyherchair.“Um.Ihavetosaysomething!”
“What?”AconfusedlookflashedoverGilly’sface.
“Iwanttothankyouforinvitingmetothedance.AndIthinkyou’rereallycoolandpossiblyafterthiswecanbefriends,”Ihollered,“butthere’ssomeoneIneedtogodancewith.Now.”
Gillylookedatthegroundthenupatme.“Berry,”shesaid.
“What?”
“It’sBERRY!”Gillyyelledoverthemusic,asmallsmileonherlips.“It’sOKAY.GO!”
Officiallyitispossibleeveryoneknewbutme.
Iboltedacrossthedancefloor,throughasoftseaofnotfabuloussuitsandspaghettistrapdresses,tothefarendofthefloor,whereIsawher,dancing.
Let’ssay,whenshereallycutsloose,Berryisanamazingdancer.I’dseenonlyflashesofherbrillianceearlierattheminiputt.Tonightshewasusingeverybitofherbodyfromherfingerstohertoes.Shehoppedwhenthemusiccalledforit.
“BERRY!”Iscreamed.
Many,manypeoplestoppedtheirtepidmovementstothisamazingsongandstared.
Inmid-jump,Berryspunaroundtofaceme.
IknewwhatIhadtodo.
Itookalongrun,droppedtomyknees,slidingacrossthedancefloor,frictionbuildingonmyvelvetpantlegsasIskiddedtoahaltaboutafootshortofwhereIwantedtobe.
AndthenBerrysteppedforwardandmetmesotheposewouldbeperfect.
“I’mSOSORRY!”Iscreamedupather,overthemusic.
“Whyareyousorry?”Berryscreamedbackasshegrabbedmyhandandpulledmetomyfeet.
“BECAUSE!”
Berrysearchedmyface.Forsignsofintelligence,possibly.“BECAUSEWHY?”
Allthelittledetails,liketheflecksofgreeninhereyes.Orthewayherlipspoutedwhensherelaxedherface,orwhenshewaslookingatmewhenIwassweatingprofuselyinvelvet.Thethreefrecklesthatformedaperfecttriangleonthetopofherrightcheek.Thetinyheartonhernose.Thewayshewiggledalittlewhenshehadagreatidea.Themanyshadesofpinkhercheeksturnedwhenshewasupsetorhappyornervous,likeahumanmoodring.
“BECAUSEIT’SYOU!”
“MEWHAT?”
“It’sYOUthatILIKE,”Ibellowed.“Butit’sMOREthanthat.You’reweirdandI’mweirdandwhenwe’retogetheritfeelsAMAZINGinsteadofstrange.Becauseyou’reawesomeandIjustwanttohangoutwithyouallthetime!”
“Youwanttohangoutwithme?”Berry’sfaceswaminfrontofmine,surroundedbyglowingdancelights.“Yourfriend?”
“NO.”Ishookmyhead.“IwanttoBE,like,WITHyou!”
“AreyouSURE?”Berryeyessearchedmyface.
Mythroatwasstartingtovibratefromscreamingonthedancefloor.“YEAH,OKAY.IknowI’mlate.ButI’mherenowandIwillMAKEITUPTOYOU!”
Berrydidalittlespin.Igrabbedherhandandspunherbackintome.“Okay,”shesaid.
“Sonowwhat?”
Someslowsongcameon.Notdisco.Somethingelse.“Aw,”somekidyelled,“Ilovethisfuckingsong.”
Itookasmallstepforward.“IwasthinkingIshouldkissyouifthat’sokay.”
Berryconsidered.“You’reverysweaty.”
“Dealbreaker?”
Berryshookherheadandheldoutherhand.Ireachedoutandmyfingerslacedwithhers.IthoughtmaybeIcouldfeelherheartbeating,butitmightjusthavebeenmyheartfinallybeatingloudenoughforthebothofus.
“Okay,hereIgo.”
“Okay,stoptalkingnow.”
Itwasaprettysweatykiss.Butitwasourfirstkiss.WhichwouldmakeGreenvilleandGreenvilleHigh,asthesiteofthatkiss,averyimportantplace,maybemyfavoriteplace,afterthat.
Berry’slipsweresoftandtheytastedlikegreenlipstick.Whichweirdlytastedlikecherries.
Berrypulledherfaceawayandsmirked.“There’sgreenalloveryourchin.”
Ikissedheragain.Ididn’tcare.
Whenyourheart’sexploding,alittlelipstickonthechinisprettymuchnobigdeal.TWENTY-FIVE
Wheredoesthisstoryend?
Notthatithasanactualend,ofcourse,becauseI’mstillhereandmystory’sstillgoing.
Butthisstory,thisoneofmanystoriesofmeandGreenville,shouldprobablyhavesomesortofend.
Imean,oneendingcouldbeofmeflying.
Becausewhat’smoremagicalthanflying?
Upintheair,inmysparklygreenPeterPanoutfit(yes,Istonedthewholething),asetofverylargecitizensoperatingacraneconnectedtoametalwireconnectedtoametalharnessyoucouldkindofseeundertheoutfitinawayIwasworriedlookedlikeadiaper,butBerrysaiditdidn’t.
IflewovertheheadsofallofGreenville,oratleasttheheadsofTannerandhisfellowpirates.
Tannerdidn’tevenfreakoutwhenIalmostputhiseyeout(foam)swordfighting.Ofcourse,Iapologizedbackstageafterward—itwasamistake—IthinkIwasjustsuperincharacterandalsoI’mnotagreatswordfighter.Tannerwas,happily,moreexcitedthathewaskillingitasHook,whichhewas.
Speakingof,Sarah,whoIthoughtwasagreatWendy,evenstoodnexttomeandheldmyhandupwhenwetookourbowattheendoftheplay,allwhileGreenvilleHigh’sgatheredparents,orthosewhocaredaboutsomethingotherthansoccer,puttheirhandstogetherforourstellarperformance.
Smallvictories,iswhatLucycallsit.
Aftertheplay,ourbigopeningandclosingnight(highschool),Mr.DavidsonthrewahugepartyforthewholecastandcrewandtheirparentsatBeverlyLynde’shouse.Whichwasamazing,mostlybecauseBev’shouseismaybethemostamazinghouseI’veeverseeninalloftime,letaloneGreenville,andIgottoshowittoBerry,andshelovedit.
Plus,Beverlyworeallgreenvelvetfortheoccasion,including,Ikidyounot,ahoopskirtthatmadeitalmostimpossibleforhertowalkthroughherowndoorways.
YoucannotbeatBevLyndeforfashion.
Asiftomatchhisaunt’spizzazz,Davidsondrovehismint-conditionCoupedeVillethathewipeseverydaywithanoldT-shirt,butneverdrives,totheparty(sohecouldshowitoff,obviously).
Stillbuzzingfromourstandingovationpossibly,Mr.Davidsonsaidnextyearwe’regoingtouptheante,theater-wise.
“Let’sreallyblowtheirsocksoff,”hetoldmeashecutmeapieceofPeterPancakeandploppeditonapaperplatewiththesametheme.“It’stime.”
Whatcouldthatmean??GuysandDolls?!Grease?DOLLSANDDOLLS???Talkabouthavinganagenda.
MillieandMr.Davidsonendedupmeetingattheparty,andnowsheandMr.Davidsonare,like,bestfriends,bytheway.She’sevenusinghimforhernextseries,SmallTown.
Tanner’sdaddidn’tcometotheafter-party,whichwaskindofsad,butGilly’sdid.Andhebroughtherdaisiesandtoldeveryonehowproudofherhewas.Whichwasembarrassing,butIthinkinagoodway,fromthelookonGilly’sface.Healsogavemeadaisyandaprettysolidlinebackerclapontheback.
Ican’ttellifGillyactuallywantstobefriends,orwhatitmeantthatsheinvitedmetothedance.Butfornow,liketherestoftheForevers,shelookshappy.
AndI’lltakethatanyday.
Sarah’smotheralsocametotheparty,lookinglikeanolderSarahwithbigearringsandbighair.SheshookmyhandandtoldmeIgaveamagnificentperformance.Then,liketwominuteslater,BerrytoldmehermomsawasocialmediapostwhereSarah’smomsaidmyperformancewascampyandoverdramaticandsheaccusedmeofputtingonairs!Thecampyandoverdramaticbitisatautologyofsorts,which,shecanlookupwhatthatmeans.Imighthaveoverplayeditalittlebut,hey,Ijustreallyenjoyedputtingmyhandsonmyhipsinanangularfashionandtalkinginaloud,high-pitchedcheerleadertoneforallmylines.
PeterPaniscampyandoverdramatic.He’sakidwhowantstobeakidforever.Hefightspirates.Herunsaclubof“LostBoys.”
“He’snotanaccountant!”IfumedtoMillie.
“Everyoneisentitledtotheiropinions,”Milliesaid,lickingthegreenicingoffherfork.“That’sart,baby!”
BerrylaterreportedthatSarah’smom’spostgotnolikesandonepersonwhoreplied,“Well,Ithoughtshewasgreat.”
Andthatgotabunchoflikes.
SomaybeallofGreenvilleisreadytomoveon.
Mostimportantly,LucyandMillieboththoughtmyperformancewasamazing.EvenifLucyhadtoclosehereyeswhenIwassoaringoverhead.MilliesaidIlookedhappiestwhenIwassoaring.
OH!Youknowwhoelsewasafan?PrincipalLynde.Ikidyounot,shesidleduptomebythechipsanddipatthepartyandtoldmeshethoughtIwas“incrediblybrave”forgettingintheflyingapparatus.
“Ilikeastudentwithabitofsteelintheirveins,”shesaid,withanod
“Really?”
“Quitealuckythingforthisschool,”sheadded.“Tohavetwonewboldtalentsunderourroof.Ilookforwardtoseewhatyou’llbringnext!”
WhoknewallIneededtodotogetPrincipalLynde’srespectwasputonaharnessandflyoverthegyminaPeterPanpose?
(Davidsonadmittedlaterthathemighthaveplayedupthedangerouselementsoftheflyingapparatus.WhichsaysalotaboutPrincipalLynde.Butstill.I’lltakeit!)
Asidefrommyparents,Berry’sparentswerepossiblythemostexuberantparentsattheplayandtheafter-party.Berry’sdadwaswearingyetanothershirt,goldwithhugecuffs,thatIplantostealatsomepoint.
Insteadofflowers,Berrybroughtmeabrightorangetophat.
BecauseBerryBlythe,whoisofficiallymygirlfriend,bytheway,isthemostamazing.
Weleftthepartyearly,hoppinginMatoandpeelingoffintothesunset.Aswecrestedthehill,IputonBerry’scurrentfavoritesong,“HangOntotheNight”byTeganandSara,aCanadianpopduowhoalsohappentobetwins.“HangOntotheNight”isfromtheir2016album,LoveYoutoDeath.Whichisagreatalbum,actually.
IlikethissongmostlybecauseIlikethewayBerrylookswhenshesingsalongtothelyrics.YouthinkIlikedisco;youshouldseewhatBerrylookslikewhenshesings,whichshedoesmoreandmorethesedays.LikewhenBerrysingsasong,she’sintoit.
Shesingsitlikeshe’stellingyouatruthyoudon’tnecessarilyseerightaway.Atruthaboutyouandher,herandme.HervoicegetslouderandlouderandIrolldownthewindowsasshegentlyturnsthewheeltofollowthecurvesofGreenville’smanyimpossibleroads.Whicharenowmyroads.
JustlikeBerryismineandIamhers.
WearenotForevers,butwearehere.
Home.
Andthat’sagreatplacetoendastory,Ithink.Ourwheelsareturningandweareflying.We’regoingsomewhere.We’reonourway.ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thankyoutomylove,HeatherGold,whohasbeenthesourceofmanyAnne-likeadventures.Youarebright,bold,amazing,andyouarethediscoinmylife.
Many,many,manythankstoMelissadelaCruzforbringingmeontothisprojectandgiftingmethisincredibleopportunity.
Thankyoutomyeditor,KieranScottViola,whosharesmyjoyforallthingsAnneandmadethiswritingprocesssuchajoyfulromp,asallwritingprocessesshouldbe.
ThankyoutothewholeteamatHyperionwhoworkedonthisbookandhelpedAnnecometolife!
Thankyoutomyagent,CharlotteSheedy,foreverything.
ThisbookisatributetothejoythestoryofAnneofGreenGableshasbroughttomeandcountlessotherreadersoverthedecades.Iamverygratefulthisbookexists,andthankyoutoLucyMaudMontgomeryforwritingit.
ThankyoutoGraceEllis,KimTrusty,LukasBlakk,CorySilverberg,andthecountlessotherwritersandartistswhohavebeenniceenoughtoletmereachouttothemforsupportandadvice.
ThankyoutomyqueercommunitiesforhelpingmakemeintotheartistItrytobetoday.
IhavetriedtogiveyouasmuchinformationonallofAnne’sfavoritemusicandtheaterproductionsaspossiblewithoutmakingthisbookseemlikeawiki.Thankyoutoalltheartists(includingSylvester,ABBA,andLipps,Inc.)whomadethemusicthatfillsmysoul.Ihighlyrecommend,ifyouhaven’talready,listeningtoallthesetracks.Theyarelifechanging.
ThankyoutoCanada,myhomeforevernomatterwhat.
TheGORGEOUScoverofthisbookwasdesignedbyMarciSenders.ThefigureswereillustratedbyShirleyZhou.TypeandbackgroundwereillustratedbyJyotirmayee.
IfyouareanLGBTQIA+personinneedofsupport,theTrevorProjectistheworld’slargestsuicidepreventionandcrisisinterventionorganizationforlesbian,gay,bisexual,transgender,queer,andquestioning(LGBTQ)youngpeople.Forsupport,textSTARTto678-678,orphone1-866-488-7386,orgotowww.thetrevorproject.orgABOUTTHEAUTHOR
MarikoTamakiisaCanadianwriterlivinginCalifornia.SheisthecocreatoroftheNewYorkTimesbestsellerThisOneSummerwithJillianTamakiandLauraDeanKeepsBreakingUpwithMewithRosemaryValero-O’Connell.TheseworkshavereceivedEisner,Ignatz,andPrintzHonors.MarikoalsowritessuperherostoriesforMarvelandDCComics.HerproseincludestheYAmurdermysteryCold