“Even a negative result is still a result.”
I laughed. “Okay, you’ve been watching the science channel too much or reading ahead in biology or something. What do you mean?”
“Well, if you try something and nothing happens, that’s still information.”
“I guess. It would be a whole lot more helpful if the results made everything clear and obvious, though.”
After school, Ang walked me to the Rainbow Café and then headed home. She made me promise I’d get a ride after my shift.
“Hey, Marissa,” I said to the barista. I stashed my bag under the counter.
“What’s up, Corinne?” Even though Marissa was only around twenty-two, her voice was husky from all the cigarettes she smoked. She had funky cropped maroon hair and a ton of piercings in her ears and face. “You going to the rally in Danton on Saturday?”
I gave her a withering look. She knew I didn’t know or care about any of her political causes, but she always said things like that, anyway. “Yes, I have my bullhorn polished and my signs all painted.”
Her good-natured laugh dissolved into a burst of coughing.
I readied the containers of cookies under the counter and pulled out my geometry homework just as a herd of seven or eight girls crowded through the door. I recognized their affiliation immediately: dance team. The heart of Sophie’s high school life. The group was Sophie-free at the moment, though.
Barely considering what I was doing, I plopped the box of yellow cookies on the counter. The girls kept jabbering and giggling as they placed their orders, hardly acknowledging my presence. But they each took a cookie, and that was all I cared about. After they left, I wrote down all their names on a sticky note.
I felt a tiny bit weird about what I’d just done. I wasn’t sure why, so I didn’t offer up any more cookies the rest of my shift. I called Brad for a ride home, citing the large bags of to-go boxes full of chicken cacciatore, rice pilaf, and Caesar salad as the reason.
After dinner, I texted Hannah and Genevieve to come by my house anytime. I set out all the hair dye stuff in my bathroom, and found two old t-shirts they could wear so I wouldn’t get dye on their clothes. I heard the doorbell ring, and I ran up to get it, relieved that Bradley had his music up so loud in his room he didn’t seem to hear.
“Can we see your room?” Hannah asked as I led them down to the basement.
“Uh, sure.” I detoured to my bedroom instead of leading them straight to the bathroom.
“Oh my God, cool chair,” Genevieve said in her breathy voice, pointing to a purple velvet chair I’d found second-hand. “Where did you get it?”
“I hopped into my time machine and stole it from 1978,” I said.
Hannah gaped at me and Genevieve scrunched her nose.
“It’s from the thrift store out on the highway.”
I watched them take in the details of the Kandinsky posters on my walls, the black-and-purple satin duvet, and bookshelf stacked with scrapbooks and adorned with framed photos of me and Ang, and me and Mason. Well, there used to be some of me and Mason, but I’d stuck those in my closet.
“You sure you still want me to do your hair?” I asked, giving them one last chance at an out.
They glanced at each other, and then looked at me and nodded. “Yeah, totally!” Hannah said.
I grabbed my iPod and some little speakers, and the three of us crowded into the bathroom. Hannah sat on the edge of the bathtub, and Genevieve perched on the closed toilet. I put my iPod on random and started pulling the hair dye stuff out of a plastic shopping bag.
“I have blue, too,” I said. “Do you want that instead?”
“No, I like the purple,” Hannah answered, and Genevieve nodded her agreement.
I really, really wished Ang were there. I took a deep breath and started mixing the hair dye in a small plastic bowl.
“So, um, we’ve never really talked much before…” I said, hoping they’d chime in and give me some clue as to
I laughed. “Okay, you’ve been watching the science channel too much or reading ahead in biology or something. What do you mean?”
“Well, if you try something and nothing happens, that’s still information.”
“I guess. It would be a whole lot more helpful if the results made everything clear and obvious, though.”
After school, Ang walked me to the Rainbow Café and then headed home. She made me promise I’d get a ride after my shift.
“Hey, Marissa,” I said to the barista. I stashed my bag under the counter.
“What’s up, Corinne?” Even though Marissa was only around twenty-two, her voice was husky from all the cigarettes she smoked. She had funky cropped maroon hair and a ton of piercings in her ears and face. “You going to the rally in Danton on Saturday?”
I gave her a withering look. She knew I didn’t know or care about any of her political causes, but she always said things like that, anyway. “Yes, I have my bullhorn polished and my signs all painted.”
Her good-natured laugh dissolved into a burst of coughing.
I readied the containers of cookies under the counter and pulled out my geometry homework just as a herd of seven or eight girls crowded through the door. I recognized their affiliation immediately: dance team. The heart of Sophie’s high school life. The group was Sophie-free at the moment, though.
Barely considering what I was doing, I plopped the box of yellow cookies on the counter. The girls kept jabbering and giggling as they placed their orders, hardly acknowledging my presence. But they each took a cookie, and that was all I cared about. After they left, I wrote down all their names on a sticky note.
I felt a tiny bit weird about what I’d just done. I wasn’t sure why, so I didn’t offer up any more cookies the rest of my shift. I called Brad for a ride home, citing the large bags of to-go boxes full of chicken cacciatore, rice pilaf, and Caesar salad as the reason.
After dinner, I texted Hannah and Genevieve to come by my house anytime. I set out all the hair dye stuff in my bathroom, and found two old t-shirts they could wear so I wouldn’t get dye on their clothes. I heard the doorbell ring, and I ran up to get it, relieved that Bradley had his music up so loud in his room he didn’t seem to hear.
“Can we see your room?” Hannah asked as I led them down to the basement.
“Uh, sure.” I detoured to my bedroom instead of leading them straight to the bathroom.
“Oh my God, cool chair,” Genevieve said in her breathy voice, pointing to a purple velvet chair I’d found second-hand. “Where did you get it?”
“I hopped into my time machine and stole it from 1978,” I said.
Hannah gaped at me and Genevieve scrunched her nose.
“It’s from the thrift store out on the highway.”
I watched them take in the details of the Kandinsky posters on my walls, the black-and-purple satin duvet, and bookshelf stacked with scrapbooks and adorned with framed photos of me and Ang, and me and Mason. Well, there used to be some of me and Mason, but I’d stuck those in my closet.
“You sure you still want me to do your hair?” I asked, giving them one last chance at an out.
They glanced at each other, and then looked at me and nodded. “Yeah, totally!” Hannah said.
I grabbed my iPod and some little speakers, and the three of us crowded into the bathroom. Hannah sat on the edge of the bathtub, and Genevieve perched on the closed toilet. I put my iPod on random and started pulling the hair dye stuff out of a plastic shopping bag.
“I have blue, too,” I said. “Do you want that instead?”
“No, I like the purple,” Hannah answered, and Genevieve nodded her agreement.
I really, really wished Ang were there. I took a deep breath and started mixing the hair dye in a small plastic bowl.
“So, um, we’ve never really talked much before…” I said, hoping they’d chime in and give me some clue as to
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