Switch (13 page)

122

wore a black polo shirt and khaki pants. He looked respectable enough, but he scared me. There was something hard about his squinty blue eyes.

Ever since my encounter with the tattooed jogger, I'd been skittish around strange men.

"Can I help you?" I asked, my heart beating faster.

"I would hope so, Larissa," he said, glaring at me.

I blinked in confusion. I didn't know what to say.

"Perhaps you can tell me where I can find my wife and children?" he said finally.

At that, I heard a little voice behind me call out, "Daddy!" Prescott darted across the lawn and grabbed his father's legs.

"Hey there, Sport!" Mr. Sealy reached down to pick up Prescott, then tossed him in the air. I tried not to gasp as Prescott's solid but small body flew above his father's head and was relieved when he was safely back on the ground.

I looked back at the steps to make sure that Cameron hadn't been washed away by a rogue wave. He stood there, the ocean behind him, looking very shy and small, even though he was older and taller than his brother.

Mr. Sealy slapped his hands together as if wiping off traces of Prescott. "Hello, Cameron."

"Hi, Daddy."

"Are you just planning to stand there, or are you going to come over to say hello?"

Cameron skulked across the lawn. When he reached his father, he held out his right hand, and they shook like two businessmen sealing a deal.

123

Mr. Sealy peered down at Cameron with his icy blue eyes. "You want me to throw you in the air?"

Cameron shook his head and wrapped his skinny arms around his concave chest.

Mr. Sealy rolled his eyes and then turned his gaze to me. I had been holding my breath, I suddenly realized, gulping some air.

"Where is Mrs. Sealy?" he asked.

"Yoga, I think."

Consuela had lunch waiting: peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches for the kids, chicken salad for the adults.

"You eating?" she asked me, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, yeah."

"You want your chicken salad plain or you want it on a croissant?"

"You got croissants? Awesome."

And then the most amazing thing happened. Consuela smiled.

Consuela carried a tray with the Sealys' lunches to the outdoor teak table. She set their places and put up the umbrella. She had already put out two pitchers: one of iced tea, the other of chocolate milk.

The ocean was a brilliant blue, the seagull calls like mermaid music. Beyond the breakers, a seal popped its head out and then dove back into the depths. It was like a setting out of a magazine, and for a moment I forgot that I was supposed to be eating my lunch in Sandyland High's boxy cafeteria with the acoustic tiles and a view of the parking lot.

124

I could get used to this.

I helped the boys scoot their big wooden chairs closer to the table. They were at eye level to their lunches, but they knew better than to complain. Mr. Sealy held a newspaper with one hand, his fork with the other. I got my square plate from the kitchen. Consuela had put a slice of cantaloupe next to my chicken salad sandwich. I turned to smile at her, but she was busy cleaning the kitchen and ignored me.

When I stepped out onto the deck, I breathed the ocean air and held it in my lungs for a moment before letting it out in a calming, salty exhalation. Plate in hand, I took a couple of steps toward the table. Mr. Sealy looked up from his reading.

"Larissa?"

"Yes?"

"If you don't mind, I'd rather make this a family lunch. You can eat in the kitchen. With Connie."

I stopped dead. "Right." I headed back into the house. Mr. Sealy went back to his paper.

Inside, Consuela was wiping down the big stainless-steel table. I just stood there for a moment, feeling like a kid who doesn't know where to sit in the cafeteria. Who was Beanie eating with? I wondered. I'd have given anything to be able to stick a plastic cafeteria tray next to hers.

Consuela stopped wiping for a moment and looked up at me. "You sit. Is okay."

I placed my plate down carefully and slipped into a chair. Consuela looked out at Mr. Sealy and muttered some words that they didn't teach in high school Spanish.

125

"Have you worked for the Sealys long?" I asked. "Huh?" She went back to wiping. "Seven months."

"Do you ... like it?"

She looked at me as if I'd just said something ridiculous. "Is a job."

"Oh." There was nothing else to say.

Mrs. Sealy came bursting in just as I was finishing my sandwich. She dropped her keys on the counter and looked around the room. "Is my husband here? He left a message on my cell phone."

She spotted him on the deck. "Darling!" She pushed open the screen door. "What a wonderful surprise. I didn't think you were coming until tomorrow."

"I told you I might come this morning to avoid the weekend traffic. You need to listen." He stood up and they kissed on the cheek like two people who didn't know each other very well but wanted to pretend they liked each other.

Mrs. Sealy gave the boys the biggest hugs I'd seen yet and let Cameron crawl in her lap.

Consuela brought Mrs. Sealy a plain boneless chicken breast, some cantaloupe, and a glass of wine. She refilled Mr. Sealy's glass with iced tea and then came back inside, where she pretended to work but was obviously spying. I chewed my sandwich as slowly as I could manage and sat back to listen to their conversation.

"Isn't it a bit early?" Mr. Sealy asked, nodding at the wine.

Mrs. Sealy squinted at the ocean. "I'm on vacation."

"The house is a monstrosity," her husband remarked without much emotion.

"I like it. It's restful."

126

"Who knew restfulness would cost so much money?"

"It's only for two weeks. And it's been a really special bonding time for me and the boys."

I waited until they had finished eating to go back out onto the deck. "Excuse me?" I asked timidly, my back pressed against the screen. "Would it be okay if I went for a walk?"

Mrs. Sealy said, "Larissa, I don't think that--" when Mr. Sealy cut her off.

"I think we can handle our own children for one afternoon," he said.

Mrs. Sealy sat frozen for a moment. "It's just that I told Suzanne I would keep an eye on her," she murmured.

Suzanne was Larissa's mother, I guessed.

"What kind of trouble can she possibly get into around here? This town is dead." Mr. Sealy didn't bother lowering his voice. It was like I wasn't even there or maybe just like I didn't matter. He picked up his newspaper. "We should have gone to Mexico, like I said."

"Do you know when my school year starts?" I blurted out-- even though the real Larissa wouldn't need to ask.

"Tuesday, I think," Mrs. Sealy said, looking up from the ground. "The day after Labor Day. Don't you know? Your mother said it was no big deal missing it--they don't teach much in the first week, anyway. She said it would be nicer for you to have a week at the beach."

"Nicer?" I said. "Oh, yeah--that's why she sent me here. Not so she could, say, go on a cruise with her boyfriend. Or so you could have a free babysitter."

127

My words surprised me as much as anyone else. I had never spoken that way to an adult. But there was a freedom, a power, in knowing I'd escape any punishment.

Mrs. Sealy and I stared at each other--a face-off--until Prescott said, "Ooooh, Larissa, you're gonna get in trouble."

And this was the kid I'd called tough. Little weenie.

Mr. Sealy didn't care what I said. He just wanted to get rid of me so he could go back to his paper. "Enjoy your walk," he said coldly.

"I plan to."

128

***

18

My little house was quiet : no ghosts on the front stoop, even. The mail carrier was driving down the street in her jeep, pulling over to stuff boxes. I resisted the urge to say hello, strolling around the block instead. When I came back, she was gone.

I went to the front door, rang the bell, and shouted hello a couple of times. This was for effect. If anyone saw me, I could say I tried the front door first before going around back to look for my new BFF Claire.

The key was in the birdhouse that I'd made in fifth grade, its rainbow paint faded from years in the sun. I took it off the low branch and tilted it until the key slid to the front opening. I dug the key out with my index finger, leaving a line of black underneath my nail. Damn. I was totally going to need a new manicure.

The house was empty. I sensed that the moment I walked inside, but I went upstairs anyway. There were my books, my pictures,

129

my computer. There was my bed, neatly made, Fluffernutter sprawled in the middle. When he saw me, he darted out of the room and across the hall.

I followed him into my mother's room. "Fluff, it's me!" I peeked under the bed. His yellow eyes glowed. He didn't blink.

"Come here, you furball!"

He stayed put. So much for that secret sixth sense that animals are supposed to have.

I turned on my computer and checked my e-mail. One friend had written to ask about my class schedule. Another had asked about swim-team trials. They were tomorrow. Missing the first day of school was bad enough, but I had to be back to my old self by tomorrow. I just
had
to.

There was one message from Beanie, which read, simply,

WHERE WERE YOU???????

I wrote back:

I am so sorry. I have not been myself the last couple of days. I will make it up to you.

I hit "send" before it occurred to me that Beanie might check the time of my reply--and I was supposed to be in school right now.

Was I in school right now? The thought freaked me out. Evelyn knew my sophomore year started today. Maybe she had convinced Larissa to go, had told her that this was just a continuation of her

130

seemingly endless dream, like that one in which you're trying to open the door to a strange house but the key doesn't fit. Or that dream in which you're falling from a cliff but you never hit the ground. Or that dream in which you realize you're no longer willowy and beautiful but just some regular girl named Claire.

If I hurried, I could make it to school before the last bell. My bike was in the garage. As a precaution, as I rode down the driveway, I called out, "Thanks for letting me borrow your bike, Claire!"

As I rode, my heart raced for a bunch of reasons: Larissa was totally out of shape; it wigged me out to think that Larissa may have gone to school in my body; and two guys--men!--whistled at me and one car honked.

By the time I got to Sandyland High, I was so winded, sweaty, and shaky that I wondered how I'd ever get my bike back home.

I heard myself before I saw myself. I was walking along the side of the school, near the Dumpsters, when I heard myself laugh. My laugh sounds just like my mother's. Yup, I got my mother's lank hair, murky eyes, powerhouse build, and seal-pup laugh. Basically, I got everything from my mother except her knack for staying in her own body.

A girl who looked like me was leaning against the side of the brick building, partially hidden by the stinky brown Dumpsters, cigarette in hand. Instead of the new jeans and layered top, she wore my mother's short-sleeved black dress and black high-heeled shoes. There were five kids with her, two boys in long basketball shorts and oversize T-shirts and three girls decked out in tourniquet-tight jeans and the kinds of trampy, strappy shirts that

131

are supposed to get you kicked out of school and maybe did.

"Claire?" I said carefully, Larissa's nasal voice vibrating in my ears.

She didn't notice me. Instead, she took a long drag on her cigarette and blew a smoke ring. The girl next to her had hair that was black and white in alternating streaks. She said, "Awesome, babe!" She tried to blow a smoke ring but failed.

I took a few steps closer. "Claire?" When again she didn't answer, I said,
"Larissa?"
--my voice louder than I had intended.

The kids all turned. The boys said hi. The girls glared.

The Claire-ish girl's eyes grew wide, and then she smiled. "Thanks for the smokes, Jessamine," she said to the girl with the zebra hair. She held up her cigarette-free hand in a wave. "Ciao, kids."

She pitched the cigarette onto the asphalt and ground it out with her foot. Then she strode toward me with a walk that was not my own, hips swaying, arms swinging. "Let's get some air," she said.

"We're already outside."

"Don't be so literal." She took my arm and, humming, led me to a sheltered corner.

Suddenly, I knew.
"Evelyn?"

"Shh!" she said, her eyes darting around. "Don't blow my cover."

"You're supposed to be in math class."

"I know, but Beanie was in there, and I was afraid she'd know I wasn't you. I've been avoiding her all day, poor thing."

"Why didn't you just stay home?"