naked except for the necklace. Although it wasnât tight, it felt very warm against my skin.
I heard my voices telling me to leave it on, but then, for the first time, I heard another voice, a different-sounding voice, deeper, darker. It was coming from the far right corner of the room, where there was a shadow that shouldnât be there because it was so lit up.
âTake it off,â the voice whispered. âYouâll never know the truth about yourself if you let them control you. Take it off.â
There was something hypnotic about the voice.
âTake it off. Donât wear it all the time.â
I started to reach back and stopped. And then, as if a spotlight had hit it, the shadow evaporated, and the room was silent.
I went to bed with the necklace on, but I couldnât help but wonder if the voice in the shadows was the one I should have obeyed.
3
I was happier in my new school than I had been in my previous one for many reasons, but the main one was that my classes were smaller, which gave me more opportunity to become friends with others my age. I didnât want to make a big deal of it at my birthday dinner and sound too optimistic. I hadnât been at the school that long, but pretty quickly, there were five of us who were drawn to be with one another. I could sense their positive energy toward me. What I feared was that my parents would prevent me from doing things with them, as they had done with the girls in my old school, and these budding friendships would die on the vine just as quickly.
The five of us girls quickly became like a knot moving along the corridors, eating lunch at the same table in the cafeteria, sharing food, and always sharing homework. By the end of the second week of school, we were already commenting about one anotherâsclothes and talking about our hair, lipstick, and nail polish, and of course talking incessantly about boys, all older than us. Of course, they all knew more about these boys than they thought I could, but once one of them was pointed out to me, it was as if I had known him all my life.
I actually felt a little sorry for the boys in our class, even though I thought a number of them were quite nice. From the way my new friends and others talked about them, dating one couldnât be further from their minds. It was almost as if it would be an immature thing to do. For one thing, none of them could drive or had a car of his own, and few, if any, reeked of the worldly experience that made older boys more dangerous and, therefore, more attractive.
Actually, the more I listened to my four new friends, the more the world outside of my very confined home life came into focus. I didnât want to tell them that I had yet to go to a real party or be with any special boy, even if just to meet at a mall and go to a movie. I was sure theyâd be shocked to learn that I had never stayed over at a friendâs house, either.
The closer I became with my four friends, the more my mind swirled with visions about them. I tried to keep most of that to myself. Occasionally, I slipped up and said something that amazed them because it was about something they hadnât told anyone else, like when Ginny Lynch found her fatherâs contraceptives in a bedroom drawer and thought they were some balloon toy.
âI bet you were surprised when you learned about birth control,â Iblurted when we were having a conversation about our sexual experiences.
She blanched the color of a fresh red apple. âWhat do you mean?â
âWhat you found in your parentsâ bedroom drawer.â
âHow do you know that?â she asked.
âI thought I heard you mention it,â I said, so confidently that she blinked and wondered whether she had. âWerenât you shocked when you learned the truth about them?â
She laughed and then described to the others her discovery and how her parents had reacted. âMy mother took me aside and
I heard my voices telling me to leave it on, but then, for the first time, I heard another voice, a different-sounding voice, deeper, darker. It was coming from the far right corner of the room, where there was a shadow that shouldnât be there because it was so lit up.
âTake it off,â the voice whispered. âYouâll never know the truth about yourself if you let them control you. Take it off.â
There was something hypnotic about the voice.
âTake it off. Donât wear it all the time.â
I started to reach back and stopped. And then, as if a spotlight had hit it, the shadow evaporated, and the room was silent.
I went to bed with the necklace on, but I couldnât help but wonder if the voice in the shadows was the one I should have obeyed.
3
I was happier in my new school than I had been in my previous one for many reasons, but the main one was that my classes were smaller, which gave me more opportunity to become friends with others my age. I didnât want to make a big deal of it at my birthday dinner and sound too optimistic. I hadnât been at the school that long, but pretty quickly, there were five of us who were drawn to be with one another. I could sense their positive energy toward me. What I feared was that my parents would prevent me from doing things with them, as they had done with the girls in my old school, and these budding friendships would die on the vine just as quickly.
The five of us girls quickly became like a knot moving along the corridors, eating lunch at the same table in the cafeteria, sharing food, and always sharing homework. By the end of the second week of school, we were already commenting about one anotherâsclothes and talking about our hair, lipstick, and nail polish, and of course talking incessantly about boys, all older than us. Of course, they all knew more about these boys than they thought I could, but once one of them was pointed out to me, it was as if I had known him all my life.
I actually felt a little sorry for the boys in our class, even though I thought a number of them were quite nice. From the way my new friends and others talked about them, dating one couldnât be further from their minds. It was almost as if it would be an immature thing to do. For one thing, none of them could drive or had a car of his own, and few, if any, reeked of the worldly experience that made older boys more dangerous and, therefore, more attractive.
Actually, the more I listened to my four new friends, the more the world outside of my very confined home life came into focus. I didnât want to tell them that I had yet to go to a real party or be with any special boy, even if just to meet at a mall and go to a movie. I was sure theyâd be shocked to learn that I had never stayed over at a friendâs house, either.
The closer I became with my four friends, the more my mind swirled with visions about them. I tried to keep most of that to myself. Occasionally, I slipped up and said something that amazed them because it was about something they hadnât told anyone else, like when Ginny Lynch found her fatherâs contraceptives in a bedroom drawer and thought they were some balloon toy.
âI bet you were surprised when you learned about birth control,â Iblurted when we were having a conversation about our sexual experiences.
She blanched the color of a fresh red apple. âWhat do you mean?â
âWhat you found in your parentsâ bedroom drawer.â
âHow do you know that?â she asked.
âI thought I heard you mention it,â I said, so confidently that she blinked and wondered whether she had. âWerenât you shocked when you learned the truth about them?â
She laughed and then described to the others her discovery and how her parents had reacted. âMy mother took me aside and
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