back on the shelf and left the library.
“I assure you, no one will stare,” Miss Beatrice said.
I glanced at her uncertainly out of the corner of my eye.
“It’s just a schoolyard, Alcyone. They’re just children.”
I looked out the window at the dozens of boys and girls, dressed in clean, pressed dresses and slacks, running up to the doorstep of the school.
I gulped. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Pish-posh.” Miss Beatrice reached over and opened up my door. She bent her forehead until her eyes were only a few inches from mine. “You can and you will do this, Alcyone.”
As soon as she turned to climb out of the car, I sent a fierce scowl at her back, feeling a little better.
I reached down to smooth my burgundy school dress, glancing about as Beatrice marched up the school steps. A few of the children stopped to stare at me.
The principal’s office was obsessively clean. White-washed walls, scratch-free floors, stainless desks. I squirmed and ducked behind Beatrice, and was immediately mad at myself for doing so.
“Can I help you?” the secretary sighed, looking at us from behind her silver-framed glasses. She twisted her piece of pink gum around her finger.
“Yes,” Miss Beatrice said, motioning to me with a grand air. “This is Alcyone Lovell.”
“Alcyone
Everly
,” I interrupted.
My correction fell on deaf ears. “I’ve come to enroll her in the ninth grade.”
The secretary stared at me for what seemed like a whole minute before drawling, “I see. And how do you spell that?”
Suddenly, the door burst open and a pretty blonde girl flew in. Her golden curls, tousled from the activity, whipped around behind her as she stuck her tongue out at a grinning boy and stamped her foot. “You stay away from me, Andy Brown, ya hear?” With a regal air, she turned and rolled her eyes at the secretary. “He just will not leave me alone!” With a fluid motion she straightened and smiled at me. “Hi, I’m Charlie, who are you?” A slight Southern accent made the words float across the air. “Where’re you from? Are you just visiting or staying forever?” She tilted her head. “Have I seen you before?”
I must have looked like a total fool as I stood there and stared at her, because after a moment she wrinkled her nose and turned to the lady behind the desk. “Miss Mary, what’s wrong with this girl?”
Mary sighed again and pushed up her glasses. “Dunno. She still hasn’t given me her name.”
Miss Beatrice leaned forward and pointed at Mary’s book. “A-l-c-y-o-n-e.”
The girl turned toward me again and beamed, flipping astray curl off her shoulder. “I’m Charlie Cooper. My daddy’s the principal here. As of last year, at least.”
“Charlie? Isn’t that a boy’s name?”
Great, now I’ve probably offended her
.
Charlie snorted and threw back her curls. “Oh, no, not at all. My real name’s Charlotte, but when I was young the boys took to callin’ me Charlie, and it stuck.”
“The boys?”
“My brothers. I’ve got five of them,” Charlie said proudly, sticking up her palm. “Now what’s your name?” She peeked over Miss Beatrice’s shoulder at the sheet. “Al-ki-o-nee?”
“You say it
Al-cee-u-nee
.” I paused. “But I like Allie. Allie Everly.”
“Oh.” Charlie looked me up and down for a second. “I like you, Allie,” she said suddenly. “You’ve got beautiful eyes. I just know we’re gonna be best friends.”
I looked down as I felt my cheeks heat.
Beautiful eyes?
They were just a light bluish-green. And I had plain, dark hair too. Not straight enough to hang loose and not curly enough to fluff; just sort of blackish-brown, wavy hair, rather than a gorgeous, golden halo like Charlie’s. And my freckles! Four under my right eye and five under my left! Talk about misfortune.
“I just know you’re going to love this school,” Charlie was saying — no, gushing — as she looped her arm in mine. She opened the door and let
“I assure you, no one will stare,” Miss Beatrice said.
I glanced at her uncertainly out of the corner of my eye.
“It’s just a schoolyard, Alcyone. They’re just children.”
I looked out the window at the dozens of boys and girls, dressed in clean, pressed dresses and slacks, running up to the doorstep of the school.
I gulped. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Pish-posh.” Miss Beatrice reached over and opened up my door. She bent her forehead until her eyes were only a few inches from mine. “You can and you will do this, Alcyone.”
As soon as she turned to climb out of the car, I sent a fierce scowl at her back, feeling a little better.
I reached down to smooth my burgundy school dress, glancing about as Beatrice marched up the school steps. A few of the children stopped to stare at me.
The principal’s office was obsessively clean. White-washed walls, scratch-free floors, stainless desks. I squirmed and ducked behind Beatrice, and was immediately mad at myself for doing so.
“Can I help you?” the secretary sighed, looking at us from behind her silver-framed glasses. She twisted her piece of pink gum around her finger.
“Yes,” Miss Beatrice said, motioning to me with a grand air. “This is Alcyone Lovell.”
“Alcyone
Everly
,” I interrupted.
My correction fell on deaf ears. “I’ve come to enroll her in the ninth grade.”
The secretary stared at me for what seemed like a whole minute before drawling, “I see. And how do you spell that?”
Suddenly, the door burst open and a pretty blonde girl flew in. Her golden curls, tousled from the activity, whipped around behind her as she stuck her tongue out at a grinning boy and stamped her foot. “You stay away from me, Andy Brown, ya hear?” With a regal air, she turned and rolled her eyes at the secretary. “He just will not leave me alone!” With a fluid motion she straightened and smiled at me. “Hi, I’m Charlie, who are you?” A slight Southern accent made the words float across the air. “Where’re you from? Are you just visiting or staying forever?” She tilted her head. “Have I seen you before?”
I must have looked like a total fool as I stood there and stared at her, because after a moment she wrinkled her nose and turned to the lady behind the desk. “Miss Mary, what’s wrong with this girl?”
Mary sighed again and pushed up her glasses. “Dunno. She still hasn’t given me her name.”
Miss Beatrice leaned forward and pointed at Mary’s book. “A-l-c-y-o-n-e.”
The girl turned toward me again and beamed, flipping astray curl off her shoulder. “I’m Charlie Cooper. My daddy’s the principal here. As of last year, at least.”
“Charlie? Isn’t that a boy’s name?”
Great, now I’ve probably offended her
.
Charlie snorted and threw back her curls. “Oh, no, not at all. My real name’s Charlotte, but when I was young the boys took to callin’ me Charlie, and it stuck.”
“The boys?”
“My brothers. I’ve got five of them,” Charlie said proudly, sticking up her palm. “Now what’s your name?” She peeked over Miss Beatrice’s shoulder at the sheet. “Al-ki-o-nee?”
“You say it
Al-cee-u-nee
.” I paused. “But I like Allie. Allie Everly.”
“Oh.” Charlie looked me up and down for a second. “I like you, Allie,” she said suddenly. “You’ve got beautiful eyes. I just know we’re gonna be best friends.”
I looked down as I felt my cheeks heat.
Beautiful eyes?
They were just a light bluish-green. And I had plain, dark hair too. Not straight enough to hang loose and not curly enough to fluff; just sort of blackish-brown, wavy hair, rather than a gorgeous, golden halo like Charlie’s. And my freckles! Four under my right eye and five under my left! Talk about misfortune.
“I just know you’re going to love this school,” Charlie was saying — no, gushing — as she looped her arm in mine. She opened the door and let
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