Shallow Pond Read online

  “He’s a nice guy,” I said.

  “So, wait, you do like him?” Shawna asked.

  “I mean nice as a friend,” I said. “Can we please change the subject?”

  “Well, on a cheerier note,” Jenelle said, “I’m pretty much guaranteed to fail that chemistry test today.”

  “Crap,” I said. I’d forgotten all about the test. I’d left school in such a hurry Friday afternoon I didn’t even bring my notebook home with me. “At least you won’t be the only one failing it.”

  “Tell me you didn’t study,” Jenelle said.

  “I forgot.”

  “So, wait, what exactly were you doing all weekend?”

  “Contemplating the day when I’ll finally get the hell out of this worthless town,” I said.

  “Hey, guys,” Shawna said, “I know it’s Monday and all, but do we have to talk about pessimistic stuff?”

  But the thing was, I wasn’t being pessimistic at all. I liked Shawna and Jenelle, but it was becoming more and more apparent how different we were. Our lives were taking us in completely different directions. I rested my head against the seat, feeling strangely alone even though I was in a car with my two best friends. It was like I was an outsider, even though I’d lived in this town my whole life. Maybe I’d never really fit in. Maybe I’d only been pretending like I belonged.

  I saw my chemistry teacher, Mrs. Kirk, on my way to first period. She’d always struck me as a reasonable sort of person, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to try to see if I could make up the test I hadn’t studied for. I was fully prepared to play the sick sister card, but I never got the chance.

  “I was wondering if I could get an extension on taking today’s test, make it up tomorrow. It’s just that I forgot to bring my book home with me because—”

  “Gracie,” she said with an exasperated sigh and a shake of her head, “you really need to start to learn some responsibility. You can’t always expect someone else to pick up the slack. Why should I give you an extra day to study? How is that fair to the other students?”

  “But I’m not—” The bell rang before I could finish correcting her, and Mrs. Kirk waved dismissively at me as she hurried to her classroom.

  I hurried off to my own class through the suddenly empty hallway.

  “Annie, you’re late,” Mr. McDevitt said. I heard some of the kids snickering. I didn’t even bother to correct him.

  Behind me on the lunch line, I overheard two boys saying something about witches. I remembered what Zach had said, about stories he’d heard about my family. The one about us being a coven of witches seemed particularly fitting. Could this be what those boys were talking about? It was just some stupid rumor, but it bothered me. I spun around, ready to tell the boys to mind their own business, when I heard one of the names of the people they were talking about—not Annie, Gracie, or Barbara, but the name of that actress who was rumored to be a drug addict.

  “Yeah,” one of the boys said, “the ending was totally lame.”

  I realized they were talking about a movie. I felt my face flush in embarrassment, but was thankful I hadn’t made a complete idiot of myself. As it was, people were starting to stare at me because I was holding up the lunch line.

  I caught my breath when I stepped into English that afternoon. It was an involuntary reaction. Zach was already in his seat, and I realized something that had sort of slipped my mind when I’d resolved to have no feelings other than those of friendship for the boy. He was incredibly good-looking. It was one thing to make a resolution at a safe distance, but having to stick fast to that resolution while in close proximity would be more of a challenge.

  “Hey,” he said when I sat down.

  “Hey,” I said. I wanted to sound casual, but my throat had gone dry and the word sort of squeaked out. It felt like someone had turned up the dial on the thermostat. I blushed; I could feel myself beginning to sweat.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. Was it really that noticeable?

  “I’m fine,” I said. My voice sounded sharp and angry. I turned toward him, thinking I’d say something a little less harsh, but when I looked at him I caught a glimpse of a smug smirk on his face, which he quickly dropped when he realized I was looking at him. Stuck-up jerk.

  “I think I saw your sister the other day,” Zach whispered a few minutes later.

  “What?” My question came out a little loud. I looked up in time to see Mrs. Grimes give me a warning look.

  “Does she work at the grocery store?”

  “Mr. K’s,” I whispered back.

  “Yeah. I can see why people confuse you two. You do look a lot alike.”

  “What’s your point?” Again my voice was a bit too loud. I was something short of pleased to hear Zach telling me how much I looked like my sister. I didn’t need him to tell me that. I’d been hearing it my whole life.

  “Gracie,” Mrs. Grimes said, “can we please postpone our personal conversations until after the class is over?”

  “I’m not Gracie,” I said. I could have left it at that. I should have left it at that, but something had been building in me all day, and now it burst forth. I rose from my seat. “My name is Barbara. Not Gracie, not Annie. Barbara! I’m sick and tired of people thinking they can just call us whatever name they want. I’m sick and tired … ” I paused long enough to give Zach a long, hard stare, though I was really thinking of Cameron Schaeffer when I said, “of people assuming we’re interchangeable with one another!”

  I’d always been the kind of person who went through school on cruise control. So shouting in front of my entire class? Not the sort of thing I usually did. I could feel everyone staring at me. My face grew hot. Mrs. Grimes stood there looking stunned, not sure what to say. I knew I couldn’t stay there. I ran out of the room, and only when I was halfway down the hall did I realize I’d left all of my books back in class.

  I stopped and rested against a wall in the empty hallway. I took several deep breaths and tried to relax, staring up at the random speckled pattern in the white ceiling tiles as if mesmerized. I figured I could wait here in the hallway until class was over, then go back in and claim my stuff, apologize to Mrs. Grimes. If I was lucky she might be understanding and not require me to serve two weeks in after-school detention or write a ten-page essay on the inappropriateness of my outburst.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  I jumped at the voice. It was Zach. He stood there holding my books. I wondered how long he’d been there.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “You keep saying that,” he said, “but I’m having a hard time believing you.”

  “I shouldn’t have jumped down her throat like that,” I said.

  “I told her you’d been under a lot of stress lately, a family thing. She bought it.”

  I wonder if Zach knew how close to the truth he was.

  “Thanks,” I said. It would have been easier to not like Zach if he wasn’t such a nice guy.

  “So, what is the matter?” he asked.

  “It’s just been kind of a crappy day,” I said. I could feel my resolve beginning to melt in his presence. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so helpless around a guy. I didn’t like the feeling. I wanted to feel in control. “I have to go.”

  “Now? What about your next class?”

  “There’s just something I need to do. Off campus.”

  “You need a lift?”

  “It’s something I have to do alone.”

  He nodded, but it was a slow, hesitant nod, like he didn’t really believe me. I guess it did sound like a made-up excuse, but I wasn’t lying. There really was something I needed to do. It was an idea that had only occurred to me a few seconds before, but now I knew I had to do it. In fact, I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t thought of this sooner.

  The bored cashier at Rite Aid looked kind of familia
r, and my suspicions were confirmed when she said, “You’re Gracie’s little sister, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Of course you are, you look just like her.” I hoped I never had to hear those words ever again. “She’s dating that new guy in town, isn’t she?”

  “He’s not new,” I said. I guess she didn’t know that Cameron used to date Annie. Maybe Gracie was deliberately trying to keep the weirdness of her relationship under wraps. The cashier was staring at me blankly. “He used to live here,” I explained. “He went to school with my oldest sister.”

  “Oh,” said the cashier. She finally looked down at my purchase. “Midnight?” she asked as she read the package. “So you’re like one of those goth-type chicks?”

  “How much do I owe you?”

  She finally got around to scanning my package. “It comes to $8.37,” she said. I paid her, and she handed me my change. “Hey, you can tell your sister that if she ever gets tired of that guy to let me know, ’kay? He’s pretty cute.”

  “Sure,” I said. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that based on what I knew of Cameron’s dating history, she wasn’t his type. Who knows? Perhaps he’d be interested in trying something different. Better her than me, I figured.

  Annie was dozing in front of the television when I got home. Gracie was still at work. I grabbed the scissors from the kitchen drawer and headed up to the bathroom with my Rite Aid bag. I soaked my hair in the bathroom sink, combed it out, and began cutting. I gave myself bangs, then I trimmed the rest of my hair until it fell just below my ears. It looked sort of cute, but I wasn’t done yet.

  I tore open the package of Midnight hair dye and read through the directions. I took a deep breath. Was I sure about this? What if I came out looking like a freak? I decided that even that would be an improvement. Maybe it would mean people would recognize me as being a truly unique person.

  It might even make Zach finally stop chasing me around. I hesitated. I remembered Zach in the hallway, bringing my books to me like the chivalrous young man he was. I felt my heart rate increase at the thought of him. Did I really want to drive him away? Yes, I had to. It was for the best.

  I opened the hair dye and began to apply it to my newly shortened locks. It needed to set for twenty-five minutes. The phone began to ring almost as soon as I’d coated the last of my hair with the dye. A few seconds later, Annie called my name from downstairs. I knew it would be Jenelle on the phone; she’d sent me approximately half a million texts demanding to know where the hell I was. I hadn’t replied to any of them. I debated not answering Annie, but didn’t see the point.

  “I’m in the bathroom,” I yelled. “I can’t come to the phone.”

  After the twenty-five minutes, I washed out the dye and combed out my hair. I stared at the vaguely familiar-looking girl in the mirror. My skin looked so pale against the dark hair. It looked weird. It didn’t look that good. I looked like someone who’d cut her own hair in her bathroom and then dyed it with cheap dye.

  I smiled at myself in the mirror. I liked it.

  Thirteen

  There was a soft tapping on the bathroom door, almost too faint to be heard.

  “Babie?” Annie asked. “Are you feeling all right?”

  I’d been in the bathroom a long time. I glanced around and saw the floor covered in clippings of strawberry-blond hair. I looked back at my new reflection in the mirror and saw how it would look to Annie’s eyes—like I had snapped. What would she think? Probably she would want to search my room for drugs. I couldn’t go out there. I couldn’t face her. Not yet.

  “I think I’ve come down with a stomach bug,” I said. I used my best intestinal-distress voice.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, I, um, I’m just going to clean up in here, and then I think I’m going to bed.”

  “Well, I hope you feel better soon.”

  I swept up the hair from the floor with my hands and dumped it into the trash can. I stared down at it, lying there. It used to be a part of me, and I had this weird feeling that I was looking at my old self there in the trash can. That was Babie Bunting, younger sister of Annie and Gracie Bunting, and she was history. This new me was Barbara, a free spirit, independent. Clearly, the new me did not belong in Shallow Pond. I was a citizen of the world, ready to spread my wings and fly. Well, just as soon as I was ready to announce this independence to the rest of the world. In the meantime, I had evidence to bury.

  I buried the clippings under the hair-dye package. I buried all of it beneath the plastic Rite Aid bag, then crumpled up a few tissues and threw those on top for good measure. I ran out of the bathroom and into my room, and shut the door behind me. I hardly ever kept the door of my room closed, but figured I could chalk it up to my illness. I needed my rest, couldn’t be disturbed, that sort of thing. I knew Annie. She would still poke open my door later to check on me. So I would have to pull the covers up over my head when I went to bed. I knew I couldn’t hide forever, but I decided I had to get used to things before I could find the courage to let my sister see the new me.

  I went to bed early without dinner, and woke up in the middle of the night warm from sleeping burrowed under the covers, with a stomach that was growling in protest at its neglect. I tried to be as silent as possible as I scoured my room for something edible and found a package of M&Ms in a purse in my closet. I couldn’t remember how long they’d been there, but figured they were probably safe to eat. I devoured them and went back to bed.

  As a result of my late-night dinner of M&Ms, I woke up feeling like I really had come down with a stomach bug. My head was pounding and I felt nauseous. It wasn’t so much courage that forced me to leave my bedroom, but the need for real food.

  There was a note on the kitchen table from Annie. She’d already called the school to let them know I would be out sick. Then she’d gone to a doctor’s appointment. I nearly had a heart attack. My sister had gone to the doctor? Perhaps we were all making some radical changes in our lives. Well, maybe not all of us; according to Annie’s note, Gracie hadn’t come in until late and was likely still asleep. Annie told me to get plenty of rest and feel better soon, and that she would see me later.

  I did feel better after a full breakfast and a hot shower. In fact, I felt perfectly fine, and a little bit guilty for not going to school. I glanced at my phone. There were now roughly a billion text messages from Jenelle. She wanted to know how I was feeling. She wanted me to know that she was feeling extremely bored. She told me Zach had asked where I was. I was sitting on my bed scrolling through Jenelle’s messages when Gracie finally stumbled down the hallway.

  “Good afternoon,” I said. I’d forgotten momentarily about my hair.

  “Oh my God,” she said. She stood there staring at me. Her eyes looked ready to pop right out of her skull. “Please tell me that’s a wig.”

  “It’s not a wig.”

  She marched into my room, grabbed hold of a hunk of my hair, and gave it a tug on the off-chance that I was lying.

  “Ow,” I said, shoving her away.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked.

  “I’m not the one who goes around pulling people’s hair.”

  “You look horrible.”

  “I like it.”

  “You can’t possibly think that looks good. What did Annie say?”

  “She hasn’t seen it yet. She’s at the doctor’s.”

  “What?” she asked. I shrugged. It was one of those mysteries of the universe, apparently. “Why aren’t you at school?” she added.

  “I’m sick,” I said.

  “Sick in the head.”

  “Stomach bug,” I said. “But I’m feeling better.”

  She shook her head and walked away. I wondered if my hair really looked as bad as Gracie said it did. Perhaps she just needed time to get used to it.
/>   The doorbell rang a few minutes later, and I heard Gracie answer it. I heard her using her flirting voice and assumed she must be talking to Cameron. I had no desire to see him, but I heard a familiar voice say my name. Barbara, not Babie. I jumped off the bed and ran down the stairs two at a time.

  Zach stood at the front door while Gracie all but batted her eyelashes at him. It was hard to believe I was related to her. It was hard to believe that anyone could have ever mistaken me for her.

  “Barbara!” Zach said. He was clearly surprised by my hair, but at least he hadn’t said something along the lines of Gracie’s “Oh my God.”

  “So, I just want to know where you’ve been hiding this good-looking guy,” Gracie said. She gave Zach a playful pat on the arm, like they were old friends and not like he was someone she’d met a minute ago.

  “Safe from your grabbing hands,” I said. I slipped past her and grabbed Zach’s arm to lead him down the front steps. “I’ll be back later,” I called over my shoulder.

  We didn’t say anything until we were seated in his car, and then we both tried to talk at once.

  “Ladies first,” he said.

  “Why aren’t you in school?” I asked.

  “I decided to leave early. I wanted to check on you.”

  “You’re not responsible for me.”

  “I never said I was.”

  “Let’s just go somewhere,” I said. I glanced back up toward the house. I couldn’t see Gracie, but I’m sure she was watching us from a window. Annie would probably be back any minute.

  “Where do you want to go?” Zach asked.

  “I don’t care,” I said.

  The car roared to life, and he drove a little too fast up the street. I thought at first he was headed back toward school, but then he turned, and we pulled into Memorial Park and parked facing the pond.

  “So,” he said, “you did something different with your hair, right?” He was grinning like a fool. I punched him playfully on the arm. It felt like the sort of thing a girlfriend might do to her boyfriend. I blushed, but I think he was too busy staring at my hair to notice. Zach had this thing about him, and once again sitting there beside him I felt like I had known him my entire life, not just a couple of months.