was her way of telling me she didnât think so.
Whom had Jordan seen last night? What was troubling her? I wondered as I got into my car. Was it just her husbandâs intensity about his business now? It was true that there was no blood relationship to tie us together, and my status was still that of a foster child, but time, the hard experiences I had had with Kiera and her friends, the Marchesâ generosity, all of it, had drawn me closer and closer to the family I had every right to despise. I couldnât help myself. I cared about them all now at least as much as most of the girls at school cared about their families. I tried to put it all aside as I drove.
It was only about a fifteen-minute drive. On rainy days, it might take five or ten minutes more. Nevertheless, I was usually one of the first to pull into the parking lot, even when I rose later than Mrs. Duval and Mrs. Caro would like. They had their act together in such a way that they were able to move me through the morning and out the door at just about the same time.
I was surprised to see Ryder and his sister arrive onlymoments after I had. He had looked so unhappy during the time he was here yesterday, and after finishing the day with an argument with his sister in the parking lot, he had seemed to me to be a good candidate for late arrival or perhaps no arrival at all. I had thought there was a real possibility that he had gone home and complained about Pacifica so much that his parents had given in and had let him transfer back to his old school or some other school. Wouldnât the girls be disappointed? Wouldnât I?
It wouldnât be impossible for Ryder to withdraw. Parents of the students at this school struck me as the sort of people who bought their way into happiness, no matter what. If they were annoyed with their cars, no matter how small the annoyance, they traded them in instantly. If they didnât like the decor in their homes, they brought in a decorator and paid top dollar to make changes quickly. If it was too cold for a week, they hopped on a plane and went to Hawaii. Inconveniences were stamped out like roaches. How many times had I heard the girls in my class moan and groan about the electricity being off for a few hours because of a storm or the batteries daring to die in their iPods and cell phones? Tragedy had a new definition here. It was defined by as little as a broken fingernail.
Surely a family as well known and as successful as Ryder Garfieldâs was no different. Rather than hear his complaints, his parents could surely just buy him into another school. Yet here he was, and early, too. I sat in my car and watched him in my rearview mirror as he emerged from his. From the way his sister glared at him and hurried off, I knew their argument hadnât ended. Perhaps he had complained abouther to his parents and she had been punished in some way she thought cruel and unusual, such as the confiscation of her MP3 player. He stood there for a moment watching her saunter off.
When I got out of my car, he turned toward me. I wasnât sure what I would do. I was about to raise my hand and say hi, when he lowered his head, turned, and walked slowly toward the school entrance. Whatever friendly overture I had read into his two words to me after English class yesterday had obviously been misunderstood, I thought. He had no interest in being friendly. However, it occurred to me that he might be in my homeroom and perhaps the same morning classes as well. I couldnât wait to see how he would treat me then, if he bothered treating me any way at all.
More often than not, our school lives were like a teenage soap opera. Maybe that was why so many of us were addicted to them. Here, we were on a stage of our own making, and all of us, including me, walked and talked with one eye on our immediate audience but another on everyone around us to see who was looking at us, who was listening to us, who was waiting to
Whom had Jordan seen last night? What was troubling her? I wondered as I got into my car. Was it just her husbandâs intensity about his business now? It was true that there was no blood relationship to tie us together, and my status was still that of a foster child, but time, the hard experiences I had had with Kiera and her friends, the Marchesâ generosity, all of it, had drawn me closer and closer to the family I had every right to despise. I couldnât help myself. I cared about them all now at least as much as most of the girls at school cared about their families. I tried to put it all aside as I drove.
It was only about a fifteen-minute drive. On rainy days, it might take five or ten minutes more. Nevertheless, I was usually one of the first to pull into the parking lot, even when I rose later than Mrs. Duval and Mrs. Caro would like. They had their act together in such a way that they were able to move me through the morning and out the door at just about the same time.
I was surprised to see Ryder and his sister arrive onlymoments after I had. He had looked so unhappy during the time he was here yesterday, and after finishing the day with an argument with his sister in the parking lot, he had seemed to me to be a good candidate for late arrival or perhaps no arrival at all. I had thought there was a real possibility that he had gone home and complained about Pacifica so much that his parents had given in and had let him transfer back to his old school or some other school. Wouldnât the girls be disappointed? Wouldnât I?
It wouldnât be impossible for Ryder to withdraw. Parents of the students at this school struck me as the sort of people who bought their way into happiness, no matter what. If they were annoyed with their cars, no matter how small the annoyance, they traded them in instantly. If they didnât like the decor in their homes, they brought in a decorator and paid top dollar to make changes quickly. If it was too cold for a week, they hopped on a plane and went to Hawaii. Inconveniences were stamped out like roaches. How many times had I heard the girls in my class moan and groan about the electricity being off for a few hours because of a storm or the batteries daring to die in their iPods and cell phones? Tragedy had a new definition here. It was defined by as little as a broken fingernail.
Surely a family as well known and as successful as Ryder Garfieldâs was no different. Rather than hear his complaints, his parents could surely just buy him into another school. Yet here he was, and early, too. I sat in my car and watched him in my rearview mirror as he emerged from his. From the way his sister glared at him and hurried off, I knew their argument hadnât ended. Perhaps he had complained abouther to his parents and she had been punished in some way she thought cruel and unusual, such as the confiscation of her MP3 player. He stood there for a moment watching her saunter off.
When I got out of my car, he turned toward me. I wasnât sure what I would do. I was about to raise my hand and say hi, when he lowered his head, turned, and walked slowly toward the school entrance. Whatever friendly overture I had read into his two words to me after English class yesterday had obviously been misunderstood, I thought. He had no interest in being friendly. However, it occurred to me that he might be in my homeroom and perhaps the same morning classes as well. I couldnât wait to see how he would treat me then, if he bothered treating me any way at all.
More often than not, our school lives were like a teenage soap opera. Maybe that was why so many of us were addicted to them. Here, we were on a stage of our own making, and all of us, including me, walked and talked with one eye on our immediate audience but another on everyone around us to see who was looking at us, who was listening to us, who was waiting to
Similar Books
