Solving Zoe (5 page)

The last class of the day was Ancient Civilizations. When Zoe arrived at the classroom, she saw that Lucas was already seated at his desk, ignoring her as he wrote in his spiral notebook. She took her own seat quickly. Immediately she noticed that on her whiteboard desk someone had responded to her tiny message from yesterday.

Without thinking she reached for her dry erase marker and wrote:

Then she looked up at Lucas. But he just kept ignoring her, or pretending to ignore her.
Well, fine,
Zoe thought. Why should she want to discuss her theory with him anyway? She pushed her curls out of her face and waited quietly for her classmates to take their seats.

And then she tried her hardest to pay attention to Signe's lesson. And not just pay attention—
look
like she was paying attention. She didn't doodle once. She just kept her eyes riveted on her teacher (who today was wearing an enormous shawl the color of pistachio ice cream), trying to nod and smile every once in awhile, as if she felt inspired by everything Signe was saying.

But it was hopeless. Signe never looked at Zoe; she only seemed to notice Lucas. She was showing slides about ancient Egypt, and he kept interrupting to inform her that it was
not
Ptolemy the astronomer who was a member of the royal family, and that hieroglyphics were typically written right to left and top to bottom but were occasionally also written left to right, or bottom to top. Once Ezra Blecker tried to get into the discussion, making some impressive-sounding comment about the Egyptians' early use of armored siege weaponry, but Lucas cut him off midsentence. “Actually,” he called out, “that's historically inaccurate.”

Ezra looked startled. “No, it isn't,” he protested. “I read it in a book. It was called
War and Warfare in Ancient Egypt,
and it was by—”

“Some hack,” Lucas finished, smiling cheerfully. “Who couldn't even read hieroglyphics, frankly.”

Usually people didn't stick up for Ezra, but this was really too much.

“Oh, yeah, Lucas?” Jake called out. “And how do you know he couldn't read hieroglyphics?”

Lucas shrugged. “Because I can.”

Jake knew six languages, but he didn't know hieroglyphics, so he didn't challenge Lucas further. As for Ezra, Zoe noticed that he appeared to be taking notes, but maybe he was just writing “Shut up, Lucas” all over his whiteboard desk. The strange thing was, Signe just kept beaming and saying “Thank you, Lucas, thank you,” as if she were absolutely delighted with this obnoxious kid, who didn't even notice that the other kids were groaning, and that Leg sniggered every time he opened his mouth.

At dismissal, Zoe headed for the lockers, hoping to find Dara there so she could finally tell her about the “little chat” with Owen. But then she heard Mackenzie excitedly announce that the cast list was about to be posted “any minute.” Which meant that Dara wouldn't want to go somewhere private—and also, understandably, that Dara would be too distracted to listen. And Zoe couldn't bear to hang around Hubbard waiting for her friend again. Not after yesterday. And not after today.

So she slipped out of the building without saying
good-bye to anyone. The air outside was damp and refreshing; it felt almost like swimming pool water, the way it feels when you first jump in.

And unexpectedly, Zoe found herself thinking about third grade.

 

Late in the spring of Zoe's third-grade year, Hubbard had announced that it was opening its Olympic-size swimming pool in the afternoons “for Lower Division enjoyment.”
Enjoyment. How nice of them
, Zoe had thought happily. But of course everything in the Lower Division was about “fun” and “joy” and “discovery” and “exploration,” so it wasn't terribly shocking to receive the unrequested gift of an enormous pool. Now, of course, she realized that Donovan, the Head of Recreation Arts, had actually been using the Lower Division swim sessions to evaluate students for the highly competitive Middle Division swim program. But in third grade Zoe had simply taken them at their word and stayed after school three days a week to “enjoy” the turquoise water.

She couldn't swim. She didn't care. All she wanted to do was splash around in the shallow end with Dara. They'd invented a fascinating game about two sisters named Aurora (Zoe) and Arabella (Dara) who'd escaped
from their evil uncle and were hiding out on a tropical island. For some unknowable reason Jake and Mackenzie began hanging around in the shallow end too, every once in a while splashing them or diving underwater to grab their feet. Zoe was annoyed, but Dara started splashing them back and laughing, and pretty soon they had key roles in the story: Mackenzie as the underwater goddess Hydranna (which sounded to Zoe ridiculously like
hydrant
, but she didn't say anything), and Jake as the cunning and powerful supervillain Tidal Wave.

For the rest of third grade, and then for about the first half of fourth, the four kids continued the game, “enjoying” Hubbard's wonderful pool exactly as they'd been invited. Even Zoe had to admit to herself that the game was just as fun with more characters (although Jake kept showing off his underwater technique, and occasionally, as Tidal Wave, splashed them in their eyes).

But then one day Donovan blew his whistle and called Jake and Mackenzie over for a friendly conversation. He'd been watching them play, he told them, and he thought they had “real potential” as “serious swimmers.” Would they be interested in a few casual, no-big-deal swimming lessons? Yes, of course they would. This meant abandoning Zoe and Dara to play the game by
themselves, but that was just fine with Zoe anyway.

So they played it for a couple of weeks, just the two of them: Aurora and Arabella, who by now had each assumed a few of the abandoned superpowers. And then one afternoon, just as they were preparing a tidal wave defense against the recently-returned-from-the-dead evil uncle, Donovan blew his whistle. “Dara,” he called, “can I see you for a minute?”

“Be right back,” called Dara as she swam over to Donovan's lifeguard chair and pulled herself out of the water.

From the shallow end Zoe could lip-read the conversation. Donovan was telling Dara that she, too, had “real potential” as a “serious swimmer,” and was offering her the chance for some casual, no-big-deal swimming lessons. Dara had her back turned, so her response was harder to read, but she appeared to be nodding as if she were saying yes.
And really
, thought Zoe,
why wouldn't she?
Everybody else seemed to jump at the chance to swim with Donovan, who not so very long ago had actually qualified for the U.S. Olympic team.

Zoe closed her eyes. She floated on her back a little, one of the few pool maneuvers she could sort of do.

Sooner or later, everyone goes off and seriously swims,
she
told herself.
Except for me. I'm the only one left in the shallow end. And I don't even care one subatomic bit!

There was a splash. Zoe opened her eyes. Dara was back, grinning.

“Where were we?” she was asking. “In the game, I mean.”

“I don't remember,” Zoe lied. “Anyway, so what did Donovan say?”

“Nothing important. Just if I wanted some boring swimming lessons.” She dove underwater and gracefully circled Zoe's legs. Zoe watched her, astonished. Somehow, until that very moment, she had never realized how well Dara could swim.

Finally Dara resurfaced. “Well?” Zoe asked quickly, before Dara could pop underwater again. “What did you tell him? Do you?”

“Oh, yawn,” said Dara, who was just starting to talk that smiley-face way. “Of course I don't, Zoe. Why would I? Let's just play the game.”

 

Now Zoe shivered slightly inside her hoodie.

Could it be,
she asked herself,
that Dara has gone off to seriously swim? Leaving me behind in the shallow water?

She wouldn't just do that.

I'm sure she wouldn't.

Finally Zoe arrived at Isaac's brownstone. And when she let herself into his house with her special key, she sighed deeply, the first calm breaths she'd taken all day.

First she fed everybody. Isaac had supplied her with a few days' worth of crickets, leaving her some money for the pet store when she ran out. He'd also left three big plastic bags in the refrigerator, one with escarole and collard greens; the second with apple, banana, and mango slices; and the third with chunks of butternut squash and carrots. He hadn't given her a phone number for his mother's house in Arizona, but he had given her an e-mail address if she needed to contact him. She was supposed to use Dad's computer and his e-mail account, Dad had said. But Isaac wanted to hear from her only in an emergency. “I don't want to be bothered with trivialities,” he'd warned her.

Well, sure. She wasn't here to waste her time on “trivialities,” anyway. Her job was to mist and water the non-desert-dwellers, distribute fresh leaves and food, maybe take a few notes. And watch: spot the baby golden gecko hiding in the leaves, connect the dots on the backs of the salamanders. At one point she thought she might have heard somebody chirp, but no, she'd probably just
imagined it. Because lizards didn't have their own private language, did they?
Just observe
, she urged herself, imagining Isaac's disapproval.

But of course it was almost impossible to shut off her imagination completely, and as she walked from tank to tank, she found herself wondering: Did lizards have feelings? Did the brown basilisk ever feel jealous because the black-spotted newt was hanging out with the iguanas? Did the green anole ever threaten to kick the brown anole out of the tank? Or did they just stare at each other all day and bob their heads and eat bugs?

Maybe it would be better to be a lizard. Or to be like Isaac, whose whole life was just wire and reptiles.

She stayed with the lizards for almost an hour. Finally she came downstairs, just as a child's voice was talking on Isaac's message machine: “Hi, Daddy? It's Willie. I miss you. Here's Mommy.” And then, “Where's that check, Isaac? If I don't get it by tomorrow, I'm calling my lawyer!”

It sounded like Deb. Well, it was a good thing Zoe hadn't heard the phone ringing this time, because Deb sure didn't sound happy. She wondered what Isaac had done to make Deb so mad at him. Maybe she didn't like reptiles.

Zoe locked Isaac's front door with her key. For a
moment she stood on the landing, taking another deep breath of the damp, refreshing September air. And then she nearly jumped.

Because there was Lucas, sitting on the bottom front step of the brownstone.

He was wearing that awful brown tweed coat again. And again he was hunched over gargoyle-style, reading something that looked like a field guide. As soon as he saw her, he sprang up.

“Oh, hi, Zoe,” he said eagerly. “So I was thinking: You want me to teach you some cipher languages? Or coding? Which is a completely different thing, actually.”

“What? No, thanks. And what are you doing here, Lucas? Are you
following
me?”

“Well, I just wanted to talk to you, so I waited for you to come out.”

“You mean you've been sitting here a whole
hour
?”

“That's okay. I was reading.” He looked at his sneakers, which were some unrecognizable brand and extremely filthy. “You live here?”

“No.”

“Visiting?”

“Sort of. Pet-sitting.”

“For what?”

“This guy. A kind of friend of my dad's.”

“No,” said Lucas, grinning. “I mean, what kind of animal?”

Zoe sighed. “None of your business, okay? Lizards.”

“I hate lizards,” Lucas said cheerfully. “There were tons of them in Guatemala, and they crawled all over the place. While you were sleeping, even. Disgusting. But I always kind of liked geckoes, even though it's weird how they never blink. You know anything about ancient military codes?”

“What? Of course I don't.” For the first time, Zoe studied Lucas's face. With his upturned nose, freckled cheeks, and long, sun-bleached hair, he looked almost a full year younger than everyone else in the sixth grade. She didn't want to be mean to him, she really didn't. But still.

“Listen, Lucas,” she said evenly, as she started down the steps. “I know you're just trying to be friendly, but why don't you talk to Ezra or Jake Greiner or somebody like that?”

“Because you deciphered your
name,
Zoe! That's incredibly unusual! Don't you even
care
?”

She stopped on the sidewalk. “It was just a coincidence. Maybe I wanted to read my name. Or maybe I imagined it. I don't know. But I'm sure it doesn't mean anything, and
I think you're kind of overreacting.” She glanced down the street and added, “And anyway, I'm not some baby secret agent with a decoder ring.”

“Yeah, well, neither am I!” He tilted his pointy chin at her.

“Okay, sorry,” she said quickly. “Look, I'm not trying to hurt your feelings. I'm just really, really busy right now.” When he didn't respond, she added, “Actually, I'm going to meet my best friend, Dara.”

“No, you're not.”

“Excuse me?”

“You're not going to meet Dara. She's off with that horrible Leg person, and that other girl, the super-nasty one.”

“You mean Paloma?”

“Right, Paloma. I saw them all leave school together. They were laughing really hard. And I don't think Dara is your best friend, frankly.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, who cares
what
you think.” Her dark eyes flashed. “You know what, Lucas? Maybe you know a ton about hieroglyphics, but you don't know anything about Dara. Or anything about me, either.”