it.”
“How?” Finny said.
“You’ll see.”
They chatted for a few more minutes, until it was time to go down to dinner. When they had gotten their coats on and were all ready to go, Judith said, “Oh, by the way, I know you went through my dresser, and it’s okay.”
Finny was going to deny it, but then she wondered how Judith knew. Were there video cameras in the room? Was she psychic? Finny could have believed this girl possessed almost any powers. Maybe the CIA was working for her.
“Actually, I wasn’t sure,” Judith said. “But now by the look on your face, I am.” She laughed. “Don’t worry. Like I said, it’s okay. Actually, I would do the same. No one stops at the top of the dresser.”
That evening the dining hall was a completely new room, alive with the bustle of eighty girls. Finny could hear their shouts and chatter even as she came down the stairs. Judith was next to her, and by the way everyone watched them, Finny could tell that Judith held a privileged position in the school. Judith introduced Finny to some girls as they picked up their trays—one named Nora who lived on their hall, and another named Jean who was downstairs—and though Finny’s head was swimming, she loved their faces, their smiles and timid, sweaty handshakes.
Judith and Finny sat down at an empty table, which soon filled up around them. They talked about so many subjects that Finny would have trouble recalling them later: hair products, favorite stores, dishes to avoid in the dining hall, what people did over vacation. Judith pointed out people to Finny. There was an upper-form girl named Cynthia Bunswaggel, whom they called Bum Wagger because of the way her ass swayed when she walked. There was a girl named Yasmin Pitzer, whom they called Pits of Death because she didn’t shave under her arms and had BO. Tasha Nolan was the Jackhammer, because of her percussive laugh.
In the far corner of the room was a woman that Judith identified as Mrs. Barksdale, the Old Yeller. She wore a bright red blazer, and her stringy hair was dyed a light orange color, as if she’d been going for blond but hadn’t left the dye in long enough. She was so skinny that Finny could see the muscles tensing in her face and neck when she ate, and a vein that pulsed in her forehead. There was something animal-like about her, like a starved and aggressive dog.
When they were eating dessert, the Old Yeller got up and came over to Finny’s table, which became instantly silent.
“Hello, young lady,” the Old Yeller said to Finny. “I’m Mrs. Barksdale.”
“Hi,” Finny said.
“We’re happy to welcome you to our school. I hope you’ve settled in okay?”
“Yes. Thank you very much.”
“And Poplan told you about your dress code?”
Finny nodded. She was struck by Mrs. Barksdale’s voice, which seemed strained and nasal, like air pinched from the neck of a balloon. It was an almost inhuman pitch, and it cut through all the background noise in the room.
“Then I will see you at the check-in this evening. I expect you’ll be there?” She made this last comment with a small laugh, as if she were on to Finny already. And then she tucked her chin to her neck and gave Finny a long look.
“That was odd,” Finny said when Mrs. Barksdale had left.
“Actually, that was a typical Old Yeller moment,” Judith said. “No one knows what she’s thinking.”
After dinner and an hour and a half of free time, which the girls used to unpack but which was normally reserved for homework, all of the girls in the dorm were called to line up in front of their rooms for check-in. Judith had been out in the halls, catching up with friends. Finny hadn’t seen her since dinner, though now she took her place next to Finny. They were the first ones in the hall, and Finny wondered where everyone else was.
Then the girls came out of their rooms. Finny was shocked at the sight of them. She looked at Judith, who giggled. Finny couldn’t believe
“How?” Finny said.
“You’ll see.”
They chatted for a few more minutes, until it was time to go down to dinner. When they had gotten their coats on and were all ready to go, Judith said, “Oh, by the way, I know you went through my dresser, and it’s okay.”
Finny was going to deny it, but then she wondered how Judith knew. Were there video cameras in the room? Was she psychic? Finny could have believed this girl possessed almost any powers. Maybe the CIA was working for her.
“Actually, I wasn’t sure,” Judith said. “But now by the look on your face, I am.” She laughed. “Don’t worry. Like I said, it’s okay. Actually, I would do the same. No one stops at the top of the dresser.”
That evening the dining hall was a completely new room, alive with the bustle of eighty girls. Finny could hear their shouts and chatter even as she came down the stairs. Judith was next to her, and by the way everyone watched them, Finny could tell that Judith held a privileged position in the school. Judith introduced Finny to some girls as they picked up their trays—one named Nora who lived on their hall, and another named Jean who was downstairs—and though Finny’s head was swimming, she loved their faces, their smiles and timid, sweaty handshakes.
Judith and Finny sat down at an empty table, which soon filled up around them. They talked about so many subjects that Finny would have trouble recalling them later: hair products, favorite stores, dishes to avoid in the dining hall, what people did over vacation. Judith pointed out people to Finny. There was an upper-form girl named Cynthia Bunswaggel, whom they called Bum Wagger because of the way her ass swayed when she walked. There was a girl named Yasmin Pitzer, whom they called Pits of Death because she didn’t shave under her arms and had BO. Tasha Nolan was the Jackhammer, because of her percussive laugh.
In the far corner of the room was a woman that Judith identified as Mrs. Barksdale, the Old Yeller. She wore a bright red blazer, and her stringy hair was dyed a light orange color, as if she’d been going for blond but hadn’t left the dye in long enough. She was so skinny that Finny could see the muscles tensing in her face and neck when she ate, and a vein that pulsed in her forehead. There was something animal-like about her, like a starved and aggressive dog.
When they were eating dessert, the Old Yeller got up and came over to Finny’s table, which became instantly silent.
“Hello, young lady,” the Old Yeller said to Finny. “I’m Mrs. Barksdale.”
“Hi,” Finny said.
“We’re happy to welcome you to our school. I hope you’ve settled in okay?”
“Yes. Thank you very much.”
“And Poplan told you about your dress code?”
Finny nodded. She was struck by Mrs. Barksdale’s voice, which seemed strained and nasal, like air pinched from the neck of a balloon. It was an almost inhuman pitch, and it cut through all the background noise in the room.
“Then I will see you at the check-in this evening. I expect you’ll be there?” She made this last comment with a small laugh, as if she were on to Finny already. And then she tucked her chin to her neck and gave Finny a long look.
“That was odd,” Finny said when Mrs. Barksdale had left.
“Actually, that was a typical Old Yeller moment,” Judith said. “No one knows what she’s thinking.”
After dinner and an hour and a half of free time, which the girls used to unpack but which was normally reserved for homework, all of the girls in the dorm were called to line up in front of their rooms for check-in. Judith had been out in the halls, catching up with friends. Finny hadn’t seen her since dinner, though now she took her place next to Finny. They were the first ones in the hall, and Finny wondered where everyone else was.
Then the girls came out of their rooms. Finny was shocked at the sight of them. She looked at Judith, who giggled. Finny couldn’t believe
Similar Books
