Ruby Reinvented Page 4
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I say, bouncing up and down in the chair.
“Wait a minute, hon.” Mom holds her hand up in front of her face. “I still need to talk to Mrs. Kearney myself.”
“Of course.” I tilt my head and put on my most grown-up expression. “But wouldn’t it be best for me to just stay and start on Monday, instead of flying back and forth? I don’t want to miss any more classes than I have to, and I could have my stuff sent here.”
Mom purses her lips. “It’s not ideal that Dad and I can’t see the place for ourselves, but I can see the sense in you staying. We really don’t want you to miss any more school than necessary either. How about I contact Mrs. Kearney first thing tomorrow morning.”
I fist-pump the air. I know my mom will love Mrs. Kearney.
“Remember our deal.” Mom’s face gets serious. “Good grades and FaceTime every night.”
“Yes, I remember.” I nod my head up and down.
“We’ll miss you when we’re home next month, Bea,” Dad says, looking sad.
“I’ll miss you, too, but I’ll be home in less than three months for summer.”
“Maybe we can find a time to come visit before then.” Dad’s face lights up.
“Yes, maybe during that break we have in May,” Mom adds.
I bite the inside of my cheek. There’s no way my parents can visit Midcoast. I don’t want anyone to know who they are. Oh, and there’s the small problem that I told Summer I was an orphan.
“Okay.” I push the thought out of my mind. “Let’s talk about it as we get closer.” Maybe something will come up, and they won’t be able to make it anyway. Something always comes up with my parents’ crazy schedules. If there’s one thing I can count on with my family, it’s that nothing is ever the way it’s supposed to be.
For once, I’m happy about that.
Chapter
8
IT’S DECORATING DAY.
We decide to pick up some linens and decorations for my side of the room I’ll share with Summer. At breakfast Ellie asks the lady who runs the bed-and-breakfast where the nearest mall is. When she tells us that it’s over an hour away, I almost spit out my orange juice. An hour to the nearest mall? In LA there are malls every five blocks.
“What are you looking for?” the lady asks as she pours Ellie’s coffee. I breathe the scent of the coffee in, then sigh. I have to kick the coffee habit now that I’m with normal kids.
“Bed linens, things for Bea’s new room,” Ellie says.
“Oh, there’s a wonderful store that carries those things right in town,” the lady says, adding that we could walk there. Which puts a big fat smile on my face. I would just die if Summer or that boy with the dimples saw me tooling around town in a limo.
On Monday Ellie and I go back to Midcoast to officially register. Luckily, the paperwork is all ready because Mom and Dad signed everything over e-mail.
“Welcome to Midcoast.” Mrs. Kearney smiles when the registration is complete. “I had a lovely conversation with your parents this morning. I understand your things are being shipped and should arrive by the end of the week.”
“Yes,” Ellie says. “Bea and I did some shopping over the weekend so we have all she will need until then.” She motions toward three huge shopping bags filled with bed linens, window curtains, towels, and other cute decorations I picked up on our shopping spree. Ellie tried to convince me to take the limo to school so we wouldn’t have to walk while carrying all of our bags, plus my suitcase, but I begged her to let us walk, and even offered to carry everything myself. She finally gave in, and actually carried two of the bags herself.
“Great.” Mrs. Kearney picks up one of the bags. “I’ll take you up to the dorms so you can get settled in.”
Mrs. Kearney gives me a card and shows me how to swipe it so the glass door that leads from the lobby to the dorm rooms opens. We take the staircase to the second floor.
“There’s a teacher living on each floor, so we always have a member of the faculty nearby.” We follow Mrs. Kearney down the hall toward Summer’s—and my—room. “Your floor parent is Ms. Goldberg. She’s the art teacher. The girls here love her.”
Mrs. Kearney stops at a door marked RESTROOMS. “This is the bathroom.” She opens the door, and we peek our heads in. “There are six sinks, six bathroom stalls, and four showers in the back. First come, first served for the showers.”
I’ve never shared a bathroom before. With anyone. At least it’s clean. Mrs. Kearney closes the door, and we continue down the hall.
When we get to the door with the hot pink corkboard, Mrs. Kearney gives a quick knock. I’m not sure why. The dorms are empty since everyone’s in class. She then puts a key in the lock, and the door to my new life opens.
“Oh, Bea, this is such a lovely room.” Ellie puts the bag she’s carrying on the floor next to my bed.
It is. It is a lovely room. In fact, it’s the best room ever because I’m going to share it with Summer and it’s 3,174 miles away from Hollywood and Sophie and Damon and the paparazzi. Mrs. Kearney tells us to stop back in her office when we’re done unpacking.
Ellie and I start by putting the sheets on the bed. The comforter I picked out is orange and hot pink. I hope Summer likes it.
After the posters are hung and the towels are put away on a shelf in my closet, Ellie pulls a heavy-looking box from the corner of the room and slides it over to me.
“Where did this come from?” I study the box at my feet.
“I had it shipped to Mrs. Kearney’s office. I asked her to bring it up here when you registered. Open it,” she says, smiling.
I lift up the flaps and peer inside. Ellie’s prized vintage Singer sewing machine peeks out at me.
“Oh, Ellie!” I gently lift the sewing machine out. It weighs a ton, but I hold on to it as if it’s made of glass. “I can’t take this.”
“Don’t be silly.” Ellie waves her hand. “Of course you can.”
“But it’s your sewing machine. I know how much you love it.”
“Meh.” Ellie shrugs. “You use it more than I do. I want you to have it.”
“Really, Ellie? You sure?” I hug the sewing machine to my chest like it’s my long lost teddy bear.
“Yes, Bea.”
“Thank you, Ellie, thank you!”
“Just promise me you will use it, eh? Promise you will keep making those beautiful clothes.” Ellie looks me right in the eyes.
“I promise.” And I really, truly mean it.
I put the sewing machine on the corner of my desk, then throw my arms around Ellie and squeeze.
“Let’s go, bubela.” Ellie releases me and turns toward the door, her voice shaky. “You didn’t come all the way here to sit in your room with an old lady.”
I lock the dorm room door, and Ellie and I make our way back to Mrs. Kearney’s office. Ellie’s flight leaves this afternoon, and while I’m sure I’ll miss her bunches, I can’t wait to start my new life here.
“You’re just in time for lunch, Bea,” Mrs. Kearney says when she sees us. “I’ll take you over to the cafeteria when you’re ready.”
I walk Ellie to the main office, and out onto the front lawn. The limo’s parked just down the road, and I look around to be sure nobody’s watching. When I’m sure we’re alone, I give her another giant hug.
“I’m going to miss you, Ellie.” I feel tears bubbling up, and I squeeze my eyes tight shut to keep them from flowing out.
“Oh, Bea.” Ellie kisses my forehead. “I will miss you so very much.”
We stand there hugging for a few more seconds, and then she takes my shoulders and looks right in my eyes.
“Bea, you are a beautiful person. You just be yourself and you will be very happy here.”
I nod and wipe a tear away with the back of my hand. Ellie hugs me again, and then shuffles off to the limo.
I blink a few times, take a deep breath, and reapply my lip gloss before going back to Mrs. Kearney�
��s office, where she’s waiting to take me to lunch. I know I should be hungry, but I can’t help feeling a little sad. Even though I’m exactly where I want to be, it was hard to see Ellie go. Harder even than leaving my parents. Ellie’s been with me forever, and suddenly my stomach feels empty, and not because it’s lunchtime.
I follow Mrs. Kearney to the cafeteria. It actually smells pretty good, and as we get closer, my stomach growls a little. Summer spots us and waves me over.
“Hey!” She gives me a hug. “They told me you’d be starting today.” Summer’s wearing black leggings under a pink polka-dotted skirt. Her striped sweater has every color in the rainbow on it except pink. And, just like on Friday, her socks don’t match.
“I hope you don’t mind,” I say. “I decorated my side of the room a little.”
“That’s super awesome.” Summer pulls me to the end of the cafeteria line. “I was sick of looking at a half-empty room.”
I smile. Summer hands me a tray and picks a bean burrito for herself. The pizza looks especially cheesy, but since Summer’s getting the burrito, I get the burrito too. I’m just about to get a soda, but Summer chooses water. I look around. Maybe kids here don’t drink soda. Just in case, I get the water. At least Mom would be happy that I made a healthier choice.
I follow Summer to a circular table with six chairs. She takes one, and I take the seat next to her. Even before I can sit down, the most glamorous girl I’ve seen yet at Midcoast Academy slams her tray on the table and sits down on the opposite side of Summer. She stretches her legs out onto the empty chair next to her, showing off skinny jeans that fall straight into a pair of black knee-high leather boots. The boots are expensive, but they don’t say anything about the girl wearing them, except that she spent a lot of money.
“Can you believe Mrs. Turner? That assignment is the worst.”
Summer shrugs. “It’s not that bad.”
“Are you kidding me,” the girl says. “I’ll never get it done on time.” She looks like she’s about to say something else when she notices me.
“Oh, hi.” She flashes me a smile, but it’s one of those closed-mouth smiles that don’t show her teeth. She’s wearing very shiny lip gloss, so it looks like her lips are glued together.
“Hi.” I smile back.
“Cassandra, this is Bea. Bea, this is Cassandra.” Summer takes a sip of water.
“Is this the new girl?” Cassandra asks Summer, as if I’m invisible or something.
Summer takes a huge bite of burrito and nods.
“Cool,” Cassandra says. “You look familiar.”
“I do?” I look down at my plate. My parents do a pretty good job of shielding me from the paparazzi, but every once in a while a photo sneaks out.
“Yeah, but you’re from California, right?”
“Uh-huh,” I say.
She squints her eyes and stares at me for a few seconds. I say a silent prayer that she doesn’t read tabloids or look at celebrity gossip online. “It must have totally sucked for you to leave California to come here,” she finally says.
“Nope. I was looking forward to a change of scenery.” I keep looking down at my plate, carefully cutting my burrito with my plastic fork. I look over at Summer, who has just picked the whole thing up with her hands. I probably would have done that too, if Cassandra weren’t staring at me.
“But it’s totally boring here.” Cassandra polishes her apple.
“Cassandra’s from New York,” Summer says in between bites of burrito.
“Oh, New York’s awesome,” I say.
“Yeah, but not as awesome as California.” Cassandra leans forward in her chair. “Have you ever seen any famous people?”
I shove a forkful of burrito into my mouth before I can answer. Luckily, another girl approaches the table, so Cassandra seems to forget about her question.
“Hey, Katie.” Cassandra takes her feet off the chair next to her.
“Hi, guys,” the girl says. Unlike Cassandra, she notices me right away and smiles. “I’m Katie.”
“Hi, Katie. I’m Bea.” I’m afraid to smile back in case I have beans in my teeth.
“Nice to meet you. Summer told us you were coming.”
“Oh. My. God.” Cassandra’s voice drops to a whisper. “How hot does Connor look with his new haircut?” She motions her head to two boys in the cafeteria line.
“He got his hair cut like three weeks ago.” Summer laughs.
“No way. I would have noticed,” Cassandra says.
“It’s true. I went with him to the barber shop.” Summer wipes her face with a napkin.
Her plate is totally clean, but I still have half a burrito left. It’s really good, but I don’t want to seem too piglike on my first day.
Cassandra crosses her arms and stares at Summer.
“What?” Summer asks.
“Are you sure you guys aren’t, like, dating?”
Summer looks at Cassandra sideways and rolls her eyes.
“Well, you’re always together,” Cassandra says.
“They’re best friends,” Katie interjects.
“Yeah, yeah.” Cassandra takes a bite of her apple. Amazingly, her lip gloss stays on.
Summer leans back in her chair and stretches her legs out.
“Seriously, Summer.” Cassandra glances at Summer’s feet. “Do you ever wear anything that matches?”
I don’t mean to, but I think I gasp a little. I don’t know Summer well enough to predict what she’ll do. Will she get really mad at Cassandra? Will she start to cry? Maybe she’ll storm off and leave me sitting here with these girls I don’t even know.
But Summer doesn’t do any of those things. She just laughs and says, “No.”
Cassandra sighs. “You’re so weird. Can’t you put in a good word for me with Connor?”
“Sure, Cass,” Summer says. “I’ll try.”
I’m shocked. They just go right back to their conversation, as if Cassandra never insulted Summer’s socks or called her weird or anything.
“Shhhh.” Cassandra leans her face in closer to the table. “He’s coming over here.” She tries to smooth her hair and sits up straight.
I look up and see the two boys from the cafeteria line heading our way. One of the boys is the cute dimpled boy I saw Summer talking to when she gave me the tour. I wonder if that’s the one Cassandra’s talking about. He’s definitely the cuter of the two. I put my plastic fork down and wipe the corners of my mouth with my napkin. I pray my face isn’t covered in bean juice.
There are only two seats left, one next to Katie and one next to me. Cute Dimple Boy puts his tray down next to mine and sits down. He smiles at me for a fraction of a second, then looks back at his tray. I’m pretty sure my face is on fire. I can’t tell if it’s because Cute Dimple Boy is sitting next to me, or if I used too much hot sauce on my burrito. I take a big gulp of ice water.
“Hey, guys.” Cassandra flips her hair.
“What’s up?” the other boy says.
“Bea, this is Connor and Shane.” Summer points to me, then to them.
“What’s up?” Shane nods his head toward me.
“Nice to meet you,” Connor, the cute one, says. He looks at me for a fraction of a second. I swear I would have missed it if I blinked. He may have the Damon Gordon dimples, but he absolutely does not have the Damon Gordon stare. Which is just as well, since maybe he doesn’t notice that my face is as red as Cassandra’s apple.
“Hi.” I smile in their general direction. I take another gulp of water, hoping my face returns to its normal color before Connor looks at me again. Which he doesn’t. Instead, he’s having a conversation with Cassandra. Or more like Cassandra’s having a conversation with him.
“OMG, Connor. I can’t believe you already finished that homework. It was practically impossible.”
“It wasn’t too bad.” Connor takes a bite of his pizza. I should have gotten the pizza.
“Then maybe you can help me figure it out.” I swear
Cassandra is actually batting her eyelashes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do that in real life.
Connor shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Okay, when?” Cassandra takes out her phone.
“When what?” Connor takes another bite of pizza.
“When can you help me? After school?”
“I guess.”
“Cool.” Cassandra types something in her phone. “I’ll see you in the library right after last period. Come on, Katie.”
She struts away before Connor can say anything else, with Katie at her heels.
Shane elbows Connor in the side. “Dude, she’s totally into you.”
“Whatever,” Connor says, then turns to Summer. “Clara’s Café tomorrow night?”
“Of course. It’s Tuesday.”
“Awesome.”
“Every Tuesday my parents take us out to Clara’s Café for dinner,” Summer explains.
“You see your parents every week?”
“Oh.” Summer looks down at her empty plate. “That was totally rude of me. I shouldn’t just talk about my parents like that—”
“Oh no,” I interrupt. “No, it’s fine.” Ugh. She thinks she hurt my feelings because my parents pretend “died.” My stomach sinks into my shoes.
“Summer told me. I’m really sorry,” Connor says. His voice is so quiet that it takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me.
“Oh, uhhh, it’s okay,” I say. “I mean, thanks.”
“My parents died too.” He’s tearing pieces off the crust of his pizza.
“Oh gosh. Wow,” I say. “That’s awful.”
“Yeah, well, I wanted to tell you that I know how you feel.”
How I feel? I turn bright red and feel like my face is on fire. I try to take a deep breath in, but the air feels stuck in my throat, and I cough. Thankfully, Summer jumps into the conversation.
“I hope you don’t mind that I told him, Bea. I thought it might be nice to know someone that understands.”
“Oh yes. Yes, it is.”
I pray that someone will pull the fire alarm. Or that a fight will break out. Or that a meteor will strike the cafeteria right now at this very second.