The Girls (8 page)

“I'm looking forward to it!” Keloryn called after me.

M
AYBE YOU'LL NEVER laugh about this,“ my dad said as he left for work early Monday morning, ”but one day it won't hurt quite so badly.“ That was his only mention of the whole thing all weekend.

I wanted to stay home from school more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life. But Momma had threatened to call all the girls and their mothers and tell them what she thought of them. I'd talked her out of it, but I knew that if I skipped school, that's exactly what she'd do.

I was trapped. I stared at the clothes in my closet. Opened every drawer. I wanted to wear something that no one could possibly think anything about. Camouflage. Something that made me invisible.

Clothes were crucial to Candace. Her outfits were worked out to the last detail. And she always noticed what everyone else was wearing, down to the shoes. Darcy and Brianna did too.

But even though they'd advised me constantly, I could never quite pull it together. Candace would toss her long black mane and say, “Nice try, kiddo,” making me feel like a little girl playing dress-up in Mommy's old clothes. She hadn't said it
meanly
, though.

Candace had a way of saying what she thought without seeming to judge. Sometimes I believed it was because she was so tolerant and wise. Other times I suspected it was because she didn't care. Me and the other girls thought about Candace constantly, trying to keep her happy. But I suspected that Candace never really thought about us. We were just there, like the air.

And if it wasn't Darcy, Brianna, Renée, and me buzzing around her, I bet it would just be some other girls. And maybe Candace wouldn't even notice the change. It was almost as if Candace was a force of nature, oblivious to her own effect.

But maybe I was totally wrong. Maybe she felt horribly guilty about dumping me. Or else, maybe when she said that stuff about my clothes, about my mom's accent, things like that, maybe she'd
meant
to sting me. Maybe it was a test, to see how much I'd take before I'd fight back or leave.

But it wasn't just
me
Candace said hurtful things to. She did it to all the girls. She liked playing those riddle games that left us gasping for air. And we all took it with a smile. Why did Candace think that was fun? And why did the rest of us always go along with it?

But when Candace had said stuff about the way I dressed, I'd really believed she was trying to help, and that she thought it was kind of cute of me not to be all clothes conscious. “Fashion-Free Maya!” she'd called me once, giving my arm a friendly squeeze. Remembering that squeeze made my eyes sting.

Today of all days, I wished I'd paid attention to her fashion advice. I'd love to walk into school, just this once, in a drop-dead fabulous outfit.

But then I remembered the way Renée dressed. She didn't even
try
and Candace never said a word about it! Renée's mom was a fashion plate and wanted nothing more than to dress her up like a paper doll, but Renée just stuck to her guns and wore jeans and T-shirts every day of her life.

I yanked a T-shirt out of my drawer. I'd dress like Renée. That was as close to invisible as I could get.

B
EFORE I'D DECIDED exactly what to say to Maya, I got to the corner of Maple, where we usually met on our way to school, and I saw her. She was about half a block away, coming toward me. My first instinct was to duck behind a tree, but that was stupid. My second impulse was to keep walking as if I hadn't seen her, and that's what I did for a few steps, but then that felt stupid too.

I knelt down and pretended to tie my shoe. Then I glanced over my shoulder to see how fast she was coming and she was completely gone—as if she'd gone up in smoke!

Maybe I'd only imagined her. Maybe Maya was hiding—from me? It was weird to think of anyone being scared of me. I hurried on to school, telling myself that I really didn't have to worry about her until lunch hour, because she wasn't in any of my morning classes. By then I'd know exactly what to do and say.

Darcy and Candace were by the gate at school. When I got to them, Candace said, “I really want to apologize for Brianna, for what she said to you.”

“To me?” I asked.

“I couldn't get it out of my head all day yesterday,” Candace said.

“Get what out of your head?”

“You don't have to act brave. I know it hurt your feelings.”

I had no idea what Candace was talking about, but Darcy must have known, because she was nodding sympathetically.

I looked from one to the other.

“Shhhh!” Darcy said. “Here she comes!”

I turned around and saw Brianna walking up, waving. I was the only one who waved back.

“She said you looked like an elephant!” Darcy whispered to me, her breath hot on my ear. “Remember?”

I laughed. “Oh, come on!” I said. “She didn't, she never, I mean, well, Brianna didn't mean anything!”

“Honestly, Renée,” Candace said, exasperated. “Do I even have to tell you when to be
mad
? What am I”—she looked from me to Darcy, then back at me—“a life raft? Here's Darcy, kicking and thrashing around in the water, practically pulling me under.” Darcy laughed as Candace flailed her arms, imitating a panicked swimmer. “And here's Renée.” Candace went limp. “Dead weight, hanging around my neck, saying, ‘Should I swim? Should I um, um, um, be mad?' ” I laughed a little and probably blushed. Then Candace said, “And here's me, just trying to swim to shore!” She smiled her big friendly smile as if to say “No offense.” Or “Just kidding.”

Brianna came up to us and said, “Hi.”

“We think you owe someone an apology, Brianna,” Darcy said in an icy tone.

“Me?” Brianna said. “I owe someone an apology?”

“You know
exactly
what you did,” Candace said. “Don't play dumb.”

“Maybe she's not
playing
dumb,” Darcy added. “Maybe she really
is
dumb!”

“This is silly!” I said, recovering a bit from Candace's comments. “Brianna didn't hurt my feelings.”

Candace turned to me with an expression of pity. “You're so sweet, Renée,” she said. “Too sweet. And we aren't going to let anyone treat you like that.”

“What are you talking about?” Brianna asked, her voice shaky. “Tell me!”

I think my mouth just hung open. I know Brianna's did. Over Brianna's shoulder I saw Maya walk way, way around us, shooting glances at us as if we were going to charge her like a pack of wolves. Then the bell rang. Darcy and Candace headed for the north door.

Candace looked back over her shoulder and said, “Think about it, Brianna,” then walked away.

Brianna's eyes were darting around. I could hear her breathing. I tried to figure out what to say, but sometimes my mouth and brain don't seem to work together. Finally I said, “Whatever it's
really
about, it's NOT about you saying, well, that I was an elephant.”

Brianna said, “Huh?” Then, “I think it's because I told Candace I didn't hate Maya.”

“I don't hate Maya either,” I confessed. “I don't hate anyone.”

“Me neither,” Brianna said, looking worried, like that was the wrong answer. We walked in to school and split up to go to our classes.

My first class was P.E., and I was way out in the outfield all alone with my thoughts. My parents were falling apart, my friends were falling apart. I could picture myself falling apart limb by limb, scattered arms and legs, vertebrae and ribs—like a mess of fried-chicken bones after a meal.

I looked around at the other girls on my team and wondered if any of them had ever felt that way. They all looked so happy: Rhonda pitching, doing jokey windups; Gloria on first base doing a cancan; Allison, shortstop, paying no attention at all, bending over to examine something. A flower? A ladybug? Then there was me, in the outfield, picturing myself as a heap of gore and dismembered bits.

I
'D BEEN SITTING right next to Nicole all year, but I'd never before noticed that her hair was like fire, flickering gold and red. She always wore it trapped tight in a thick braid as if it were a dangerous secret weapon that she had to keep strict control over.

I could picture one little strand working itself loose and lashing out like a spark. It would melt the rubber band that held the braid and suddenly all the hair would burst free! Let loose, it would take on a life of its own, whipping through the classroom, devouring everything in sight. Whoosh! The entire school reduced to ash.

I leaned over and said something to Nicole about her hair, and she blushed as if I'd guessed her secret power. No, that's silly. Of course her hair was only hair—amazingly fabulous hair, but just hair nonetheless. And she'd blushed just because she'd blushed.

But still, there had to be something different about someone who grew such extraordinary hair, didn't there? Could hair like that grow out of an average head?

I tried to talk to Nicole, but Darcy kept buzzing around me like a mosquito.

“Wanna do lunch?” I asked Nicole in a whisper, and she laughed back, “Sure.”

I
N HOMEROOM I WATCHED Candace lean over to the girl sitting on the other side of her and say, “I'm so jealous of your hair! I'd do anything to have hair like yours. Every day I just sit here and count the colors in it.”

I was pretty sure the girl's name was Nicole, and it was true, she did have pretty hair. Red. In a thick braid. Nicole looked dazzled by Candace's sudden attention and flattery. She blushed, smiled shyly, and said, “But Candace,
your
hair is so fantastic!”

Candace smiled back at Nicole and said, “Let's trade!”

I admit I felt a tiny twinge of jealousy as Candace whispered something to Nicole that I couldn't hear. Here we go again, I thought, Candace and her girl collection! Now I'd have to hear about Nicole, hang around with Nicole—replace Brianna and Maya with Nicole. I wondered if Renée already knew her. Now our initials would be C, Candace, D, me, R, Renée, N, Nicole. Cat Dog Rabbit Newt? Still no vowel! I smiled to myself but then looked over and wondered what I'd missed. Candace and Nicole were laughing about something.

I knew just how Nicole felt. I could remember how I'd felt when Candace first discovered me—like I'd been huddled in the dark and Candace brought the sun. It happened when Ms. Goodman put us together to do a science project in third grade. At first I'd been afraid that Candace would be disappointed to get stuck with me as her partner, but she wasn't. In fact, she'd seemed thrilled, as if she'd always wanted to know me. The very first day she'd asked me if I wanted to “do lunch,” which meant sit with her in the cafeteria. From then on everyone knew I was Candace's best friend and they were all jealous, whether they admitted it or not.

Then her mom had the twins and Candace made me an honorary auntie. Without thinking I'd blurted out that I wasn't too crazy about kids. The second I'd said it, I regretted it. That sounded so ungrateful! What if I'd hurt her feelings?

But she wasn't mad. She'd squeezed my arm and said, “That's what I love about you, Darcy. I can't stand babies either! They look like boiled shrimp and all they do is cry.”

That's when Candace and I started making up stories about the twins. Sometimes we said Beth was the evil incarnation of a psycho we called Bad McFoe. We called Tess, the other twin, T.T., short for Terrible Tess, McFoe's partner in crime. Other times we said the twins were not really earthlings at all, but were sent down from planet Zorp to destroy Candace with their evil poop bombs and acid spit-up.

Candace would call me and whisper, “I heard McFoe and T.T. plotting to murder me in my sleep! They've got my bother in on it too! Can I sleep over at your house tonight?” Or she'd ask to copy my math homework, saying the Zorps had used her paper in one of their shifty communications with their home planet.

It was our secret. Everyone else was wild about the twins. Brianna, especially, thought they were the cutest things on Earth. I remember when Candace made
her
an honorary auntie. Brianna was thrilled. She didn't see Candace wink at me behind her back. And a lot of good the honor did Brianna! Candace was entirely disgusted with her now. Well, that
was
a pretty mean thing Brianna said about Renée.

Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if Ms. Goodman hadn't put me and Candace together. The thought made me shiver. But I told myself that we would have probably found each other one way or another, eventually.

I wondered if Candace even remembered that science project. It had been entirely lame. It was about hatching chickens, but none of our eggs hatched. We'd made our parents buy little stuffed Easter chicks the night before the project was due, and we glued them all over the poster board. Ms. Goodman said we were hopeless. It was a blast being hopeless with Candace. Before that, I'd taken school so seriously, like my sister, Keloryn.

Back then Candace had been best friends with that girl—what was her name, Risa? Yeah, Risa. And Risa had been so jealous of me, she'd looked positively green! Candace had hated that. She thought jealousy was tacky. I wondered what had become of Risa. She was in my class last year, wasn't she?

I bent over my desk and smiled at Nicole around Candace. She should know that she'd been picked by me too.

I
KNEW IT WOULD BE torture, and it was. First I saw Renée walking to school and I had to hide. My family had moved from one end of Los Angeles to the other, doubling our rent, to get away from fear, and now here I was in safe suburbia, taking cover and watching my back. I ducked between two cars and crouched there, peeking out till the coast was clear. But what was the point? I couldn't hide every second of the day. They'd get me eventually. Get me and do what? I knew they weren't going to pull knives on me, but still, I was terrified.