time, she thought, feeling sick to her stomach.
Was it only two weeks ago that she’d been a senior at an exclusive prep school in New York City? That was a lifetime ago. Since then, she’d left school in disgrace and now this. Now her dad had forced her to move to Sleepy Hollow, and she had to finish her senior year here with the Archie Gang, at a public high school.
Of course, everyone said, in the most caring fashion, moving here and changing schools came about because of a bad choice Daisy made. Bad choice. What a riot.
So now she stood in the middle of the frozen tundra surrounding her, and she felt completely detached from the scene. It was like an out-of-body experience, where she was hovering unseen somewhere, gazing down at herself, a lone figure in the snow, with a kaleidoscope of babbling strangers circling around her, oblivious to her presence.
No. That wasn’t right. Not everyone was oblivious. A pair of girls spotted her, then put their heads together and immediately started whispering. A moment later, a pack of guys tossing a football back and forth checked her out with measuring glances. Their low whistles and apelike sounds rolled right over her like a bitter wind.
Let them whisper. Let them jeer. What the hell did she care about any of this?
She brought her attitude with her into the main office of the school. A blast of damp heat filled the room, redolent of wet wool and whatever else a public high school smelled like. Daisy undid her Burberry muffler and pulled off her Portolano gloves. People on the other side of the scarred wooden counter were busy on the phone, staring at computer monitors or sliding messages into a row of mailboxes.
A tired-looking woman at a desk marked Attendance Clerk glanced up at her. “May I help you?”
Daisy unbuttoned her faux fur-trimmed suede jacket. “I’m Daisy Bellamy. Today’s my first day.”
The clerk sorted through the stacking trays on her desk. Then she picked up a file folder and came over to the counter, moving with a pregnant woman’s waddle. Her stomach was enormous. Daisy tried not to stare.
“Oh, good,” the clerk said. “We’ve got all your records right here. Your father stopped by on Friday and everything is in order.”
Daisy nodded, suddenly feeling overheated and nauseous. Her dad would be here right now, except that she’d begged him not to come. Her brother, Max, was only in fifth grade, she’d argued. He needed their dad way more than Daisy did. Way more.
The clerk explained Daisy’s schedule to her, handed over a map of the building and traced directions to her homeroom. She also told her where her locker was located and gave her the combination. There was a complicated system of bells—first bell, assembly bell, lunch bell…but Daisy barely listened. She glanced at the room number on her pink slip, left the office and headed into the tile-walled halls of her new school.
The corridor was jammed with loud kids and the smell of damp winter clothes. The sounds of slamming lockers and laughter filled the air. Daisy found the locker assigned to her, dialed the combination and swung open the metal door. The former occupant had shown a fondness for hip-hop, judging by the intricate, interlocking graffiti drawn inside.
She put away her jacket, muffler and gloves. It had been tempting, this morning, to wear something low-key, something that wouldn’t attract attention, but that wasn’t Daisy’s style. The only possible advantage to changing schools midyear was that for the first time in her life, she would go to a school that didn’t have a strict dress code. She took full advantage of that and showed up today in low-cut jeans and a cropped argyle sweater that showed off one of her many recent rebellions against her parents—a belly-button ring. She had no idea if Archie’s Gang would appreciate her Rock & Republic jeans or Pringle of Scotland sweater, but at least she felt good in them.
She walked into room 247, strolled
Was it only two weeks ago that she’d been a senior at an exclusive prep school in New York City? That was a lifetime ago. Since then, she’d left school in disgrace and now this. Now her dad had forced her to move to Sleepy Hollow, and she had to finish her senior year here with the Archie Gang, at a public high school.
Of course, everyone said, in the most caring fashion, moving here and changing schools came about because of a bad choice Daisy made. Bad choice. What a riot.
So now she stood in the middle of the frozen tundra surrounding her, and she felt completely detached from the scene. It was like an out-of-body experience, where she was hovering unseen somewhere, gazing down at herself, a lone figure in the snow, with a kaleidoscope of babbling strangers circling around her, oblivious to her presence.
No. That wasn’t right. Not everyone was oblivious. A pair of girls spotted her, then put their heads together and immediately started whispering. A moment later, a pack of guys tossing a football back and forth checked her out with measuring glances. Their low whistles and apelike sounds rolled right over her like a bitter wind.
Let them whisper. Let them jeer. What the hell did she care about any of this?
She brought her attitude with her into the main office of the school. A blast of damp heat filled the room, redolent of wet wool and whatever else a public high school smelled like. Daisy undid her Burberry muffler and pulled off her Portolano gloves. People on the other side of the scarred wooden counter were busy on the phone, staring at computer monitors or sliding messages into a row of mailboxes.
A tired-looking woman at a desk marked Attendance Clerk glanced up at her. “May I help you?”
Daisy unbuttoned her faux fur-trimmed suede jacket. “I’m Daisy Bellamy. Today’s my first day.”
The clerk sorted through the stacking trays on her desk. Then she picked up a file folder and came over to the counter, moving with a pregnant woman’s waddle. Her stomach was enormous. Daisy tried not to stare.
“Oh, good,” the clerk said. “We’ve got all your records right here. Your father stopped by on Friday and everything is in order.”
Daisy nodded, suddenly feeling overheated and nauseous. Her dad would be here right now, except that she’d begged him not to come. Her brother, Max, was only in fifth grade, she’d argued. He needed their dad way more than Daisy did. Way more.
The clerk explained Daisy’s schedule to her, handed over a map of the building and traced directions to her homeroom. She also told her where her locker was located and gave her the combination. There was a complicated system of bells—first bell, assembly bell, lunch bell…but Daisy barely listened. She glanced at the room number on her pink slip, left the office and headed into the tile-walled halls of her new school.
The corridor was jammed with loud kids and the smell of damp winter clothes. The sounds of slamming lockers and laughter filled the air. Daisy found the locker assigned to her, dialed the combination and swung open the metal door. The former occupant had shown a fondness for hip-hop, judging by the intricate, interlocking graffiti drawn inside.
She put away her jacket, muffler and gloves. It had been tempting, this morning, to wear something low-key, something that wouldn’t attract attention, but that wasn’t Daisy’s style. The only possible advantage to changing schools midyear was that for the first time in her life, she would go to a school that didn’t have a strict dress code. She took full advantage of that and showed up today in low-cut jeans and a cropped argyle sweater that showed off one of her many recent rebellions against her parents—a belly-button ring. She had no idea if Archie’s Gang would appreciate her Rock & Republic jeans or Pringle of Scotland sweater, but at least she felt good in them.
She walked into room 247, strolled
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