Ruby Reinvented Read online

  “Anyway,” Summer says. “My parents take me and my sister out to dinner every Tuesday to this amazing restaurant called Clara’s Café. Connor always comes. You’re invited too.”

  “Really? Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.” Which is true. But I would like to have dinner with Summer and Connor.

  “My parents would love to have you. They’re cool like that.”

  “They totally are.” Connor leans back in his chair. “They’re like my pseudo parents.”

  “If you’re sure, I’d really like to go.”

  “Great!” Summer stands up and grabs her tray. “Do you have your schedule?”

  I open up my backpack and peek inside. “I have technology next.”

  “So do we,” Summer says. I pick up my tray, which still has half a burrito left, and follow Summer and Connor to the back of the cafeteria.

  “You can throw the rest of your burrito in the compost.” Summer points to a big bin with a cover on top.

  “The what?” I stare at the bin.

  “The compost. It’s where most of the food scraps go. It then gets turned into soil for the garden, which we use to grow our own veggies.”

  “The school grows its own food?”

  Summer giggles. “This place must be really different from home.”

  I smile. That’s the understatement of the year.

  Chapter

  9

  ALL MY AFTERNOON classes are with Summer, which is fantastic. She makes sure I’m where I’m supposed to be at the right time. And she introduces me to everybody in our class so I don’t just sit there like a loser.

  Connor only has technology and science with us, but Cassandra is in every one of our classes.

  “Did it bother you, what Cassandra said?” I ask Summer when we’re back in our room after dinner.

  Summer laughs. “Which time? Cassandra does a lot of talking.” Summer sits cross-legged on her bed.

  “When she said that thing about you not matching.”

  “Naaaah. She’s right. I don’t match.”

  “But she called you weird.”

  “That’s because I am.”

  I blink.

  Summer gets up and starts jumping on the bed. “I am weird. But I like myself that way.”

  I watch Summer bounce up and down. She’s jumping so high I’m afraid her head will hit the ceiling. There’s a knock on the door, and Summer yells, “Come in!”

  The door opens, and a lady peeks her head in. She sees Summer and smiles for just a second before her face gets all serious looking.

  “Summer, please don’t jump on the bed.” The lady pushes the door open all the way and walks in.

  “Sorry, Ms. Goldberg.” Summer does one more bounce when Ms. Goldberg turns away, and then sits down.

  “You must be Bea.” Ms. Goldberg sticks out her hand, which I politely shake. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Liz Goldberg. I’m the floor parent here.”

  I remember Mrs. Kearney saying something about a Ms. Goldberg.

  “Has Summer gone over the rules with you?” she asks.

  “Rule number one,” Summer says. “No jumping on the bed.” She runs over to Ms. Goldberg and gives her a big hug.

  “Very funny.” Ms. Goldberg hugs her back. “But it is true that you’re not supposed to jump on the bed.” Ms. Goldberg raises one eyebrow and looks at Summer, who smiles.

  “And,” Ms. Goldberg continues, “we try to keep the noise down when we’re here in our rooms. No hot plates, toasters, or microwave ovens allowed. No boys allowed. And lights out is at nine o’clock, but it’s okay to keep a reading light on by your bed if you’d like. I think those are the biggies.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “And of course, I’m always here if you need an adult to talk to.”

  I nod.

  “Well, Bea, welcome. I look forward to getting to know you.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Goldberg.”

  “And Summer, keep the bouncing to a minimum, okay?”

  “Yep.” Summer smiles and flops down on her bed.

  “I’ll be back for lights out, in about an hour.” Ms. Goldberg closes the door behind her.

  “Wow, it’s eight o’clock already.” Summer groans. “I still have to shower.”

  Oh no. Eight o’clock. FaceTime.

  I glance at my iPad, which is open on my desk. Mom always calls me, so it’s going to ring any minute now, and Zack Miller and Celestine Cruz are going to pop up on my screen and Summer’s going to see and wonder why on earth Zack Miller and Celestine Cruz are calling me because after all Zack Miller and Celestine Cruz are hugely famous and supposed normal people like me don’t know celebrities like them.

  I suck in a big breath of air and squeeze my eyes real tight. I try to think of a way to FaceTime my parents without Summer noticing. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I hadn’t thought about this at all. Even if I manage to hide my screen she’ll know I’m talking to somebody. And since my headphones aren’t here yet she’ll hear them and know they’re parentlike. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

  Summer hops up off the bed. “I’m going to take a shower. Unless you want to first.”

  I breathe out. Loudly. I fake cough so she doesn’t notice. “No, that’s okay. I shower in the morning.”

  “Cool. That’s easy.” Summer grabs a bathrobe, towel, and shower caddy out of her closet and twirls toward the door.

  The second the bedroom door shuts, the FaceTime ringtone blares through my iPad. I leap to my desk, grab it, and climb into the farthest corner of the bed, wrapping my comforter around it to try and muffle the noise.

  “There’s our little Mainer.” Dad’s face pops up on the screen.

  “Hi, hon,” Mom says. “How was your first official day?”

  I lower the volume so I can barely hear them.

  “Hi, guys,” I whisper.

  Dad squints and cups his hand around his ear. “I can barely hear you, Bea.”

  “Oh, sorry.” I speak a tiny bit louder. “I don’t want to disturb my roommate. She’s uhhhhh . . . she’s trying to study.”

  Mom and Dad nod approvingly.

  “My first day was great. I really like it here.” Kids are talking in the hallway, and I glance at the bedroom door, but it stays shut.

  “Tell us all about it,” Mom says.

  “What’s your favorite class?” Dad asks.

  “We’re studying ancient Greece in social studies. That’s pretty cool. And we played softball in PE.”

  “Did you show them the Miller Spitter?” Dad winds his arm in a pitching motion.

  “No, Dad.” I force a smile. “You don’t want me giving away all your secrets, do you?”

  “The Miller Spitter’s my favorite,” Mom chimes in. “You always get the cutest look on your face when you throw that pitch.”

  “Awwww, thanks, babe,” Dad says, and then he adds a kissy noise.

  “Gross. Cut it out, you guys.” I roll my eyes. I hate it when they get all mushy.

  “How’s the food?” Dad asks.

  “It’s really good. There are a million choices. They even have a humungo salad bar.”

  “Sounds great,” Mom says. “Maybe we should move there.”

  I hear voices coming from the hallway again, but this time, one of them is Summer’s.

  I fake yawn. “Well, I’m pretty tired. I should go to bed.”

  “Already?” Mom asks. “You never go to bed this early.”

  Summer’s laugh echoes through the hall.

  “Yeah, but it’s been a long day.” I stretch my arms above my head. “I’m wiped out.”

  “Okay, Bea,” Dad says. “We don’t want to keep you up, but we’d love to hear more about your new school.”

  “I know, Dad. And I’d love to tell you. It’s just that I’m really tired tonight.” My eyes flash to the bedroom door.

  “We’re going to hold you to that,” Mom says. “You can tell us more tomorrow night.”

  “I will. I promise.”


  The bedroom doorknob turns.

  “Good night, Bea. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  The bedroom door opens.

  “Good night!” I slam the iPad cover over the screen.

  “Did you say something?” Summer asks. Her hair is dripping onto her bathrobe, which is hot pink plaid flannel.

  “Me? No.” I slide the tablet under the blankets.

  “Oh, I thought I heard you talking in here.” Summer shrugs.

  “So, what time do you get up?” I change the subject.

  “Breakfast is from seven to eight. Then we have to be in class by eight fifteen.

  “Sounds good. So you don’t mind if I get up a little earlier to shower?”

  “Not at all.” Summer crawls into bed and flicks her reading light on. “This is your room too, so you don’t have to ask me if you can do stuff. Make yourself at home.”

  “Thanks,” I say. I pull out my book and pretend to read. Really I’m wondering how I’m going to find the time to talk to my parents tomorrow night. They’ll freak out if I blow them off again. I need to find a way to talk to them for half an hour every night without anyone knowing. I squeeze my eyes shut. Think. Think. Think.

  I come up with nothing. Except that I wish Summer took longer showers.

  Chapter

  10

  I WAKE UP to daylight with Adele blaring from my phone. I hit snooze and pull the covers over my head.

  I peer out of the blankets just enough to see that Summer’s still fast asleep. Maybe showering at night isn’t such a bad idea.

  The alarm blares again. As I pick up my phone to shut it off, I notice a text from Sophie.

  Did u leave school? Nobody knows what happened 2 u. I’m worried. Call me ASAP.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. This is not what I want to think about first thing in the morning. I block her number so I don’t have to think about her ever again.

  I push the covers off and stumble out of bed. I grab my bathrobe, towel, and shower caddy (which is so full of shampoo, conditioner, soap, and body wash that it must weigh at least ten pounds) and slowly open the bedroom door. I peek toward the bathroom but don’t see anyone. The hallway’s pretty quiet, so I scamper to the showers. I push open the bathroom door, hoping there’s not a line. I’d hate to be late on my first official full day. Amazingly enough, I’m the only one in there. Just in case, though, I do a quick change out of my pj’s and jump in the shower, not waiting for it to warm up. I jump back and adjust the temperature. I’m in there for five minutes when I hear people talking in the bathroom. Someone turns on the shower next to mine, and then someone else turns on the one next to that. I soap up as fast as I can, rinse, and then turn the shower off. I give myself a quick dry, throw my bathrobe on, and make my way out of the shower.

  Just as I’m about to leave the bathroom, Cassandra walks in, wearing a knee-length fuzzy white bathrobe. I smile at her, but she doesn’t say anything. In fact, she hardly looks at me at all. Maybe she’s not a morning person. Or maybe she’s not an anytime-of-day person.

  When I open the door to our room, Summer is already awake and dressed in striped leggings and a T-shirt that says I <3 BEING AWESOME.

  “How was your shower?”

  “Not too bad. A little cold.”

  “They take forever to heat up.”

  I open my closet door and pull out my suitcase. There aren’t too many choices, but luckily I packed one of my favorite dresses—one I made using old T-shirts. I’ve never shared a room before so I’m not sure if Summer would be okay with me getting dressed in front of her. Just in case, I decide to change in the closet. After slipping into the dress, I squeeze half a tube of de-frizzing gel into my hand—my hair hasn’t yet adjusted to the East Coast dampness.

  I step out of the closet as Summer spins around the room.

  “Whooooooaaaaaa,” Summer says when she stops spinning. “Cool dress.”

  “Oh, thanks.” I feel my ears burn. “It’s just something I made out of—”

  “You made that?” Summer takes a step closer to me, still staring at the dress.

  “Yeah, but it’s no big deal.”

  “Are you kidding me? It is such a big deal.” She touches the hem. “Can you make me one?”

  “You really want one?” I ask.

  “Totally.” She’s still staring at the dress. “Only make mine more crazy.”

  I laugh. “Okay! Do you have old T-shirts we can use?”

  “Only boxes of them! I’ll have my mom bring them tomorrow.”

  Nobody’s ever commented on my designs before. Well, nobody’s ever really seen them, except Ellie and my parents, and they never even noticed. I didn’t wear any of my dresses to my old school because only designer labels were allowed in the building. I’m pretty sure that was written in the school handbook.

  “Ready for breakfast?” Summer puts on shoes that are half sneakers, half boots. They’re laced up the front with rainbow laces and totally clash with her striped leggings, but I think that’s the point.

  “Almost,” I say. I slip on a peach-colored shrug sweater that falls just above my waist, then check the mirror one more time to put on some lip gloss. I contemplate mascara but then remember that the only other seventh-grader I’ve seen wearing makeup at Midcoast Academy is Cassandra, and I’m not sure I want to be anything like her.

  Luckily, we don’t see Cassandra at breakfast. Summer and I both get the blueberry pancakes, which she polishes off in about five minutes. For someone so small, she sure eats a lot. Connor and Shane come in just as we’re leaving. Connor smiles at Summer and gives me a little wave. My stomach flutters, and I’m pretty sure it made some stupid gurgling sound. I hope Connor didn’t hear it.

  I have first period science with Summer—and Connor. Mr. Desmond gives me a textbook, and I take the only empty seat there is—behind Connor. Mr. Desmond draws a picture of a plant on the whiteboard. He’s talking about the parts of the plant, which thankfully I already know from my old school. We did this unit last month, so my mind’s free to wander. And it wanders to the seat in front of me.

  Connor’s light brown hair is just touching the collar of his Boston Celtics T-shirt. His knee is bouncing up and down, and every few minutes he taps his pencil on his notebook. He’s not doing anything exciting, but for some reason, I can’t stop staring at the back of his head.

  I jump when the bell rings. There is no way that class is over. I look at the clock. Yep. I’ve been staring at the back of Connor’s head for forty-five minutes. Luckily, Connor isn’t in all my classes, or I’d completely fail out of Midcoast Academy.

  I don’t see Connor at lunch because he’s in the astronomy club and they meet every Tuesday during lunch. I wonder what the astronomy club does.

  After classes are over, Summer, Katie, and I head to the library to do our homework.

  Cassandra walks with us, but when she sees Connor and Shane on the basketball court, she makes a beeline for them. Today she’s wearing boots with two-inch heels. They’re really pretty—black leather ankle boots with a fur-lined top—but I don’t know how she’s going to play basketball in them.

  We’re almost finished with our homework when Connor walks into the library, a backpack on one shoulder and a basketball under one arm.

  “Hey.” He sits down next to Summer and takes a book out of his backpack. I look up and smile, but he’s not looking at me.

  “Hey,” Summer says. She’s quieter than normal. This must be her library voice. “Did you kick Shane’s butt?”

  “Yeah.” Connor smiles. “I don’t know why he always thinks he can beat me. He hasn’t yet.”

  “How much homework do you have? We have to meet my parents in an hour.”

  “Not much. I can’t wait for Clara’s. I’m starving.”

  “Clara’s has the most amazing lobster roll,” Summer whispers to me.

  “Yum,” I say. I have no idea what a lobster roll is. I picture shellfish doing somersaults.


  Summer nods her head and rubs her belly. “I can’t wait.”

  “Me neither.” I glance at Connor. His head is buried in his book.

  “Let’s meet at the usual place at five.” Summer starts packing up her backpack.

  “Sounds good,” Connor says. He looks at me real fast and then looks back down at his book.

  I’m so excited to have dinner with Summer and Connor that I hardly even worry about how I’m going to FaceTime my parents tonight—although it’s always hanging over my head like the threat of rain on a cloudy day.

  At five, Summer and I make our way to the main entrance lobby. Summer plops down on a brown leather couch next to the front desk, and I sit down next to her smoothing my skirt, which lands just above my knees. I want to look nice for Summer’s parents. And Connor. But mostly Summer’s parents.

  Connor walks in a few minutes after us. He’s talking with an older girl, and I realize, after my jaw hurts, that I’m clenching my teeth. Older Girl is laughing at something Connor’s saying, and her brown curls are bouncing up and down. She’s completely adorable, and based on her cargo pants and plain brown sweatshirt, she isn’t even trying to be. Connor sits on the couch next to Summer, and Older Girl sits on Summer’s lap.

  “You weigh a ton.” Summer squirms out from underneath her. “Get off of me.”

  Older Girl laughs and stands up. She looks at me with a great big smile on her face. “Hi. I’m Holly, Summer’s sister.”

  I instantly relax. Older Girl is Summer’s sister. Of course. That’s why she’s here talking to Connor.

  “I’m Bea.” I stand up.

  “Nice to meet you, Bea. Welcome to Midcoast.”

  Summer and her sister look nothing alike, which is why I didn’t immediately realize they were sisters. Holly has brown curly hair, while Summer’s is straight and blond. Summer has blue eyes; Holly’s are brown. They both have the same cute little nose, which I have to admit, I’m a little jealous of. I have Mom’s wide nose, which works really well on her face.

  Mrs. Kearney comes out of her office, briefcase in hand. “Clara’s Café tonight?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Kearney,” Holly says.

  “How are you adjusting to life at Midcoast?” Mrs. Kearney asks me as she locks her office door.