What I've Done (9 page)

“That’s a pretty name,” Gabe comments when he sees her name pop up on the screen. He is quite obviously curious as to what this woman is to me, but I don’t want him to know the truth. I type out an abrupt response, telling her all is well.

“She’s a friend,” I answer, shutting the phone. My lies are becoming so complex I worry I will have a hard time keeping them all straight. In the past couple of weeks he had asked me few questions about my personal life and times like this I had to come up with some on-the-fly response.

Gabe leans close as he sips his milkshake from a straw. “So now that you have a job, where else do you want me to take you before you have to head home?”

The clouds don’t look quite as threatening and there are more people on the beach now, enjoying the afternoon. It has only rained a few times since our arrival, although Gabe tells me this is usually their rainy season. Even if it did rain more it wouldn’t bother me. This weather is a million times better than the cold weather we would be having in Minnesota.

“Do you mind showing me where the school is?” I ask. “I’m a little nervous about going tomorrow.” This is another one of the first truths I have told him. Being the new girl is not an unfamiliar concept by any means, but I am still uneasy about being in a new state that I know very little about.

“Sure. But you really don’t have anything to be nervous about. I will help you find your locker and your classes tomorrow. I’m not going to leave you hanging.”

As his dark eyes draw me in, I find myself hoping I am not making a mistake in trusting someone so easily that I have only known for a short time. Ever since Rose was born it had been her and me against the world. Before now I have never really trusted strangers. I was always scared that they would discover the truth about us and I would lose her. The danger of that is still lurking, but things have become much more complicated after my mother’s death.

I do my best to ignore the warning signals sounding off in my head.

* * *

The morning of my first day at the new school I wake early, before the sun is fully up. The rolling waves of nervousness in my stomach are so persistent I can’t sleep anymore. Clad in my new bikini, I sneak into the hot tub with the key Svetlana had shown me and watch the sun bring the world around me to life.

The view is fantastic as it rises and I find myself wishing Gabe was there to see it with me. The beach is fairly quiet except for a few joggers. A man runs by, his feet pounding against the sand with muffled beats and he waves joyfully as he passes. The happiness of the people on the beach continues to be contagious—I find it hard not to be cheerful when seeing everyone enjoying themselves.

When the water becomes too hot I sneak back inside to slip into the luxurious shower, savoring every minute under the army of nozzles shooting water at me. Once I’m dressed and ready for the day, I enter the kitchen where Svetlana is busy preparing breakfast. She wears an elegant, white shimmering nightgown and matching robe that flow around her like some kind of ball gown. Even early in the morning she looks nothing short of fantastic without any makeup or her hair styled.

“Rose is already up and coming to eat. You sleep well, yes?” she asks brightly.

“Yes. Thank you,” I say, sitting at the island. “Did your husband make it home last night?” She had told us that he often works late at night or travels out of town for a computer software company.

“He got call to San Francisco,” she answers, flipping a cooked pancake onto a plate where a sausage and orange already sit. “We see him tomorrow maybe.”

She hands me the plate and I thank her before digging in. I can’t remember the last time someone had cooked me such a good breakfast. I savor every bite before it warms my stomach.

Within minutes Rose skips into the kitchen wearing a long, white sundress in a bright pink floral print and a long-sleeved pink sweater over it. She had told me yesterday it was her favorite outfit when Melissa bought it. I have never seen her wear something quite so nice, or even anything that looked like it could be brand new.

“Don’t I look beautiful?” she asks.

I nod with pesky tears filling my eyes. By the sparkle in her eyes I know she is just as excited and nervous about her first day of school as I am.

“You look like princess!” Svetlana gasps, clapping her hands together.

Rose smiles back at us, her heart filled with pride. “You look beautiful, too, Tasha!”

I blush from her compliment. The dark denim jeans and white cotton shirt with eyelet detailing are both new things from our recent shopping trip. The shirt shows off my tanned shoulders and my hair is pulled into a loose, side ponytail that sits against my bare skin. I am even wearing mascara and a shimmering white eye shadow that Melissa had managed to budget in for me.

“You will be model,” Svetlana agrees with my sister. “Yes?”

I laugh, although flattered by her comment. “Somehow I don’t think so.”

“You wait. Kids at school will think you are,” Svetlana assures me. “After breakfast I take you girls to school. I pick you up after, too.”

Yesterday Gabe had shown me the giant school we would be attending together. It was overwhelming in size, even compared to the public schools I had attended in Minneapolis. I was a bit comforted when he showed me Rose’s much smaller elementary school only a few blocks from ours. It was good to know she would be nearby.

“My friend Gabe found me a job yesterday,” I tell Svetlana slowly. “My new boss was hoping I could start today.”

“Where you find this job?” she asks, turning to me. So far she just seems curious and not necessarily opposed to the idea. It is a childish gesture from my younger days, but I cross my fingers under the table, hoping she will be okay with my plan.

“At a shop called Tropical Pipedream, just down the beach. I could walk there from here. The owner of the store is a really nice woman. I will mostly be helping her with displays and taking money from customers.”

“I will call social worker while you are at school. If she say okay, I say okay.” She nods at me with a small smirk and hands my sister a plate filled with the same breakfast. Rose hoists herself onto the chair beside me and begins to tear her pancake up into pieces, dipping them in syrup and making a gooey mess.

As we finish eating our breakfast together the excitement of what is to come feels so intense I think I may quite possibly burst.

* * *

Westerville High School is not like anything I had been expecting. In Minnesota I had gone to a smaller school where I at least recognized my classmates and knew most of their names. But when seeing the campus with Gabe, I should have known by its size that my new school would be much larger and filled with total chaos.

Walking through I decide there must be hundreds of different cliques at this school. There are the obvious groups that we had back in Minnesota—jocks dressed in the school’s mascot and colors (which appear to be a shark with blue and white), the nerds wearing outdated clothing and fidget with the latest electronic device, and the snooty rich girls wearing what I deem to be designer clothing that air kiss each other in greeting. But the cliques in this school go on and on to including many more like surfers, the elite who should already be in college, the overall darkly dressed who are probably into witchcraft, skateboarders, many different ethnic groups wearing traditional cultural clothes, and, what I fear to be, opposing gangs. And those are just to name a few.

Aside from the overwhelming number and vast varieties of students, the school itself is amazing. It appears to be fairly new as the bricks are shiny clean and the freshly painted doors are almost completely free of graffiti. Most of the campus is open to the outside including the brightly colored lockers located underneath rain covers. Each classroom is entered separately from the grassy yard. All schools in Minnesota had been traditional buildings with everything located under one roof because of the massive amounts of snow and freezing temperatures.

Gabe had met me on the curb outside of the school as soon as I got out of Svetlana’s car. Without him by my side I would have gotten lost within the first ten minutes. I had eagerly accepted his hand when he first offered it to me and cling to it now as we walk through down the paths, doing my best to ignore the occasional curious glances we receive.

One advantage to the school’s size is that most people may not even realize I am the new girl, but I wonder if Gabe stands out as much as I imagine due to his good looks. Certainly people that know him are curious as to who he deems worthy enough to give his full attention to.

“Do they give you a map of this place?” I mutter after Gabe takes me down what feels like a dozen different sidewalks.

He only laughs at this and squeezes my hand in response. I am thrilled to be holding his hand, although it sometimes feels like we are still just getting to know each other.

With my fears and uncertainties rising, I have to remind myself numerous times I am at school willingly so I can graduate on time. I don’t want to be forced to retake any classes later—or worse yet, put it off and never receive my high school diploma. Many of my mother’s drug-dealing friends were high school drop outs and I vowed that would never be me.

After acquiring my class schedule from the office, we find seats for first period Calculus class we have together. The buzzer rings seconds later, announcing the start of the day. The classroom is twice the size of any I had been in before and the room erupts with total madness. Even after the young female teacher comes in, looking nervous and underpaid by the frumpy skirt and peasant top she is wearing, the noise level stays the same and half the students don’t even sit in their seats.

Since they are only a few days into the quarter it is easy to follow along with the current lesson on differentials, but the distractions of our fellow classmates proves to be a bigger challenge.

Most of my classes go fairly well with Gabe by my side but he is not in my fifth period English Lit. We say our goodbyes in the hallway and I enter the room with an overwhelming dread filling my gut like a load of cement. When it occurs to me just how much I have come to depend on Gabe, I become angry with myself. I have never needed anyone before and now I am feeling panic set in because I have to go to a class without him?

I hold my head high as I look for a seat, determined to appear tough to my fellow classmates and gain my independence back. Much like my other classes of the day, the room soon grows loud with utter chaos; kids laughing and yelling, some running around the room chasing each other and only a few that actually sit in their seats. I take a deep breath, hoping to settle the uneasy fears that continue to rise.

My mind won’t allow me to focus when the large, balding male teacher drones on in his monotone voice about the short story the class is currently studying—Edgar Allan Poe’s
The Angel of the Odd
. I am too busy worrying how Rose is doing in her new school and hope she remembers to use the name Barbie Brekken. I had reminded her this morning to use the name when Svetlana was busy speaking to the teacher, but Rose sighed dramatically in response, saying “yes, Tasha.”

I am also dying to know if Svetlana got the okay from the social worker for me start my new job. Finding a place to work so quickly had been pure luck on my part and I would hate to have to tell Kalia I can’t take it after all.

When it is time to meet Gabe for lunch after my class, I go down the wrong sidewalk more than one time before finding the outdoor lunchroom. The rest of our day goes somewhat pleasantly, without major incident.

When the final buzzer of the day sounds, I am surprised to see a ton of kids have stayed for the entire day of classes. As the massive crowd scurries out, I feel the need to hold on to my locker door to keep from getting knocked over.

“Do you want a ride to work?” Gabe asks when we are preparing to leave.

I look down at the smart phone Svetlana had given me, waiting for it to power up. I hold the screen out of Gabe’s view, not knowing what kind of message to expect from my foster mother.

“I think my mom wanted to give me a ride,” I say.

Three messages finally pop onto the screen from Svetlana:

JOB OKAY!

being the first of them. I shout happily in my head and continue to read the next messages which say:

MEET YOU AT SCHOOL FOR BARBIE

and:

HOPE DAY GOOD FOR YOU.

“Do you mind if I stop by to see you later?” Gabe asks, leaning against my locker. His face is merely inches from mine and my breath momentarily stops.

What is it about him that makes me so drawn to him? But when I meet his gaze I know the answer almost immediately—it is because he is so unbelievably charming and irresistibly handsome. He has been nothing but kind to me since we met and I love every minute we have spent getting to know each other. Still, there is a part of me that doesn’t want to trust anyone and won’t allow anyone to get too close—not with all the dangers I am still facing.

“Of course not,” I smile shyly. “If it’s okay with Kalia.”

“Kalia and I are good friends. I know it won’t be a problem.”

His dark eyes pull me in so deeply I actually picture myself running my hands through his hair and pressing my lips up against his. There is a glint in his expression begging me to do it—to simply lean in and see if his lips have the same peppermint taste as the smell of his breath.

I shake my head when I realize how absurd my thoughts have become. “See you later, then,” I say, pulling my eyes away before I start blushing again.

“I am looking forward to it.”

I look back to see him grinning before he turns and walks away.

* * *

Kalia greets me at her store with her trademark
Aloha
, dressed in yet another obnoxiously scant bikini top and short-shorts. But her wardrobe doesn’t bother me now. She is obviously very kind hearted and that is all I care. I head to the back room where I change into my new bikini that was stashed in my backpack. I throw a shirt over it for the time being, hoping she will at least let me leave it on until it warms up some.