Solving Zoe (11 page)

“So how's Isadora?” Owen asked sympathetically. “I heard she didn't get the lead in the musical this time around. What a shock.”

“Izzy's fine,” Dad said. “A little disappointed, but that's part of the learning process.”

“Yes, it is. Absolutely! I'm a strong believer in exposing our kids to failure. Otherwise, they never truly appreciate success. And there's no doubt Isadora will have a very successful future onstage. If she wants it, of course. Do you know what her plans are post-Hubbard?”

“Not at the moment,” Mom replied pointedly. “Right now we're thinking about Zoe.”

Owen leaned back in his leather chair and smiled. “All right, then. Zoe. I have to tell you folks, I'm very glad we're having this chat. To put it bluntly, we haven't been seeing a whole lot from Zoe academically, and now I'm hearing some troubling reports from the other kids. Anything you're ready to share with us, Zoe?”

She shook her head. She could feel the corners of Lucas's letter in her hoodie pocket.

“So you're not willing to talk about the anonymous notes?”

“There's nothing to say about them,” Zoe said flatly. “They kind of speak for themselves.”

“You think so? I know at least a few students who find them fairly cryptic. Some reference to a blinking gecko?”

Dad looked at her sharply.

“I think the note said geckoes
don't
blink,” Zoe said. “And I'm not even sure if that's true, frankly.”

“Neither am I. I confess I'm a complete herpetological ignoramus.” Owen smiled briefly. “And you don't know who
wrote
the notes?”

“It wasn't me.”

He studied her face. She tucked her hair behind her ears and waited, her heart pounding.

Finally he leaned forward. “You know,” he said, “I've been having some good, long conversations with your teachers these past few days, and we're all wondering what would be best for you, Zoe. Do you have any thoughts on the matter?”

“Not really.”

“Ah, but you should. You may remember that one of
Lorna's core beliefs was: ‘Every student should actively chart her own educational journey. The teacher provides the compass, but the student creates the map.' Do you know what that means?”

“I think so,” Zoe said. “It means don't be a puppet.”

“Right. Exactly. So we really do need your input, Zoe. Maybe things will come into better focus if you take some time off for contemplation. We were considering ten days.”

“Ten days?”
Mom cried. “You mean you're suspending Zoe for two weeks of school? On the basis of some ugly, unsubstantiated rumors by two girls who've always been extremely nasty to her?”

Zoe stared at her mother. How much did Mom know, anyway?

“We're not calling this a suspension,” Owen said calmly. “It's really more productive to think of it as time to reflect, evaluate, possibly explore some options.” He brought his fingertips together as if his hands were holding an invisible crystal ball. “The notes aren't the only issue. It's really the whole picture. And this picture is not what we typically see in a Hubbard student.”

“So the problem is I look weird?” Zoe asked softly.

“I actually don't find that funny, Zoe,” Owen replied. “But if humor helps you process all this, I understand.”

And then he stood up. Mom and Dad stayed behind to have another word with him, and Zoe went to her locker to get her backpack. By now it was almost time for homeroom, and kids were beginning to bang through the hallways, greeting one another ecstatically, as if they hadn't been at school in weeks. A few were gathered in front of someone's locker, chattering excitedly and pointing to something taped to the door.

It was Lucas's locker,
she realized with a jolt. Pulling her purple hood over her hair so that it almost covered her face, Zoe stood behind the other kids, squinting over their shoulders. The sign was written in a familiar, almost-too-perfect handwriting:

Zoe groaned. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Thanks, Lucas,
she thought.
That was really, really brave. And now you're in gigantic trouble with everyone, just like me.

What an incredibly stupid thing to do.

The whole walk home from Hubbard, Mom and Dad barely said a word. But when they were back in the apartment, and Zoe was lying on her bottom bunk staring up at Isadora's bedsprings, she could hear them whispering in the kitchen. She couldn't make out what they were saying (and she was pretty sure she didn't want to), but her ears kept straining to catch the words. They all seemed to have S's: “School.” “Suspicion.” “Decision.”

Finally, Mom came into her bedroom and sat on her bed.

“Well, that wasn't much fun, was it,” she said gently. “Tell me what you're thinking, baby.”

“I'm thinking, Okay, so now what?”

“You don't want to go to Hubbard anymore?”

“Owen doesn't want me there. It's not like I have any choice.”

“Oh, Zoe, of course you do,” Mom said. “Not
just
yours; the school has to decide too. But Owen really needs to hear what you're thinking. In a way, that's what all this is about.” She stroked Zoe's arm thoughtfully. Then she added, “And
you know, baby, it's completely fine if you don't want to go back. Hubbard's a great place, but it's not for everybody.”

“I know, I
know
, Mom! Everybody keeps saying it all the time!”

“And? So, do you want to go back?”

Zoe looked up at Isadora's bedsprings. They made a fishy sort of pattern. It was funny that she'd never noticed it before. “It's weird,” she said at last. “I thought I didn't care. I thought I
wanted
to get kicked out. There's a lot about that place that drives me crazy, actually. But when Owen acted like I didn't belong there, and he said that thing about the ‘whole picture,' I got really, really, really—” She considered the perfect word. “Angry,” she said.

“Hmm,” Mom said, smiling a little. “Sounds like you have plenty to think about. I guess we all do.” Then she leaned over and kissed Zoe's hair. “And now if you will excuse me, I have some overbites to correct. Call me later if you get lonely, sweetheart.”

And then Mom walked out. There was more whispering in the hallway, but this time the only word she could definitely understand was “Zoe.”

She picked up her paperback copy of
The Golden Compass
and stared at a couple of chapters. But her brain refused to focus; the words bled into one another like
damp watercolors left in the rain. What else was there to distract her? She didn't feel like doodling. And of course she couldn't call Dara, because Dara was at school. And anyway, it didn't matter, because as soon as Dara saw the call was from Zoe, she probably wouldn't even answer the phone.

Which is more horrible?
she asked herself.
Getting kicked out of school, or losing your absolute best friend?

Losing your absolute best friend.

Suddenly she realized that Dad was standing in her doorway, holding his sketch pad. “Thought I'd pop over to Isaac's and do some preliminaries for Lizard World,” he said casually. “Want to come?”

“You mean now?”

“Why not. You have school or something?”

“
No
. But I'm not supposed to feed the lizards until the afternoon. Isaac said to keep them on a strict schedule.”

“Isaac's tough,” Dad said, smiling. Then his smile faded. “It was funny about that gecko reference, wasn't it?”

“I didn't write it.”

“I know. I'm just saying it was funny.” He didn't move.

“Dad,” Zoe blurted out. “I know who wrote it. I know who wrote
all
the notes, but I didn't want to get him in trouble. I can't explain the whole thing, but it doesn't even matter anyway, because he confessed. So I'm sure
everybody knows the truth by now, including Owen.”
Also Dara,
she thought with a strange pang.

“Wow,” Dad said, his eyebrows arching in surprise. “Well, that's certainly very good news, Zozo. I'm happy to hear it.”

He walked to the bed and reached down and gave her a hug. Then he left too. When she was sure she'd heard the apartment door finally click shut, Zoe got out of bed and walked into the living room.
Two weeks,
she thought.
What am I going to do hanging around here by myself for two weeks?

She turned on the TV. It was some dumb reality show about a bunch of skinny, nasty people sharing an apartment, but she watched the whole thing anyway. Then she switched over to a science fiction movie, but it wasn't even the kind you could make fun of, so after a while she shut it off.

She yawned. How long had she been sitting there? She checked her watch: something like two hours. At school it was time for lunch. Maybe later in Ancient Civs there'd be another message on her desk. Maybe Lucas would ask her the color for eight.

The phone rang. Who could be calling in the middle of the afternoon? “Hello?”

“Zoe?” someone shouted. “It's Isaac. What are you doing home?”

“Isaac?” she repeated stupidly.

“Yeah. Wakefield. You okay?”

“Oh, yes!” she said. “Totally normal.”

“That's good, that's good. Your dad there?”

“He's at your house, actually. He's starting the bedrooms.”

“Cool. It's about time. So anyway, I just talked to Kravitz.”

“Who?”

“The vet, Zoe. Remember?”

“Oh, right!” Finally she was completely awake. “Is Iguana Number Three okay?”

“Yeah. Just some trouble laying an egg.”

Zoe gasped. “She's having a
baby
?”

“Yeah, a cuddly little iguana baby with great big eyes and teeny tiny booties…No. No baby.”

“But didn't you just say—”

“I said an
egg
. Don't get so overheated, kiddo. Sometimes an egg just means an egg.” He made a throat-clearing sound. When he spoke again, his voice was definitely gentler. “Lizards do that, you know, lay unfertilized eggs once in awhile. Usually it goes fine, but sometimes they get sick, trying to get that egg out. So then the vet has to help.”

“And Dr. Kravitz did? Get it out, I mean?”

“Yeah.” Isaac cleared his throat again, as if he were unused to talking this much. “It was good you brought her
in. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut, right? Anyway, you were smart not to listen to me. You probably saved her life, and I wanted to say thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Zoe said, completely amazed.

“But I have to tell you, Ruby's out. How about Winona?”

“Winona? Why
Winona
?”

“I don't know. I just like it, maybe.”

Zoe laughed. “Okay, fine. Her name is Winona.” Then before she knew what she was doing, she added, “Isaac? You need to come home. There's a lot going on around here. I don't just mean with the lizards.”

“Yeah, I know. Walker Robbins tracked me down somehow, and I called Deb back. I just bought my ticket to New York. I'll be home in two days.”

“You will be? That's wonderful! I'm so glad!”

“Calm down, kiddo. Just tell your dad for me, okay?”

Then he simply hung up. Zoe stood in the kitchen, grinning. So she hadn't acted like an overheated preteen, after all. Her feeling hadn't been stupid, she'd seen everything the right way, and Isaac knew it. And was grateful! And Ruby/Winona was going to be okay, thanks to her, and all the phone callers were happy, and in two days Isaac would be back in Brooklyn, where he belonged.

“Hurray, hurray, hurray,”
she sang under her breath. She
spun around the kitchen, then stopped. Spinning was baby stuff; she wasn't Spencer.

Still. This was fantastic! Hubbard was a disaster, but Lizard World—well,
wasn't
. She needed to celebrate, didn't she? Of course.

So she got herself a big bowl of chocolate ice cream, and microwaved some hot fudge.

 

A few hours later, Dara called.

“Zoe?” she said in a scared-sounding voice. “Are you
expelled
?”

“No! Who told you that?”

“Everybody.” She paused. “I'm really sorry I blamed you, Zoe. It was Lucas. He put up a sign.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw it this morning. Actually, I suspected him the whole time.”

“You did? How did you—?”

“Long story. And the gecko business gave it away.”

For a second or two Dara was speechless. “But then why didn't you say something? At the lockers? Or in the gym?”

“So everyone could pounce all over Lucas? Like they did to Ezra? And to me?”

“Sigh,” Dara said. “Well, I'm really sorry people were
mean to you, Zoe. It wasn't fair, but you know, everyone was incredibly upset.
I
was upset.”

“So was I.”

“Well, then, why would you stick up for that obnoxious little—”

“It's complicated.”

“How is it complicated?” But Dara didn't wait for a reply. “Oh, great, Zoe. Are you saying you're friends with
Lucas
now?”

“No,” Zoe said carefully. “I wouldn't call it that.”

“Well, what would you call it?” There was a weird pause. “Do you mean he's like your boyfriend?”

“No, of course not! Don't be crazy, Dara.”

Another weird pause. Then Dara sighed. A real sigh, not a word-sigh. “Anyway, whatever he is, you're protecting him, right? And after everything he did at school? I totally don't get you, Zoe.”

“Yeah,” Zoe said. “I pretty much figured that out.”

Zoe hung up the phone.

And that was when she knew, officially knew, that Dara was swimming away. She'd left Zoe behind in the shallow end, and she wasn't coming back. Or maybe Zoe was swimming away; that was another way to look at it. But whichever version you picked, one thing was clear:
They weren't friends anymore. The amazing thing was that Lucas—crazy, hallucinating Lucas—had been right all along.

Her eyes began to sting, but she didn't cry. Instead she went into her bedroom, reached into her hoodie pocket, and took out Lucas's crumpled letter.