The Mayfair Moon Page 3

  That was a serious understatement.

  It only took about a week seeing how Alex treated Beverlee, to make me feel good about sitting out on the porch again. The sooner I let the changes in my life happen, the faster the awkwardness began to wear off. Before I knew it, I was eating dinner downstairs with Uncle Carl and Beverlee and watching TV with them in the den.

  I always thought about my mother though. I worried about her constantly. Apparently, Jeff only spent a few days in jail before they released him. I asked Uncle Carl if my mother was who bailed him out (it didn’t matter to me that he didn’t actually do anything this time).

  Uncle Carl didn’t answer.

  ~~~

  School. I dreaded it. Getting used to a new home is simple compared to getting used to a new school. I never dressed much like the in-crowd; preferred casual stuff and made it habit to shop at thrift stores. Average girl with white, white skin and freckles; and I hardly ever wore make-up. I admit no one ever accused me of being ‘ugly’, so I must’ve been doing something right. Don’t know what it could’ve been though; definitely wasn’t my chest size because it was as flat as my back. And my idea of fixing my hair was a quick, sloppy wannabe bun, or a barrette on each side to keep my long bangs out of my face.

  Uncle Carl agreed to let Alex and I settle in before sending us to school, but a few more days was the limit. The only thing I had going for me was I wouldn’t be starting too far into the year. Alex refused to go to school. Kind of ridiculous when she would be graduating this year. Everything about my loving sister had changed.

  “Not sure about the trends right now,” Beverlee said as we walked into a clothing store. “But I’ll give you the run of the place.”

  It wasn’t exactly my kind of fashion, but we had been driving around Augusta for three hours, stopping here and there and I was just ready to get ‘home’ and relax.

  I never imagined shopping could be so exhausting, or that there was more to it than one store. No, apparently real shopping involved heavy amounts of conversation, critical observations of patterns and how one’s butt looks in at least six different brands of jeans. Oh, and sales. Lots of sales. I think Beverlee spent more money trying to take advantage of every sale than she would have if she would’ve just ignored them altogether.

  “Oh, Adria,” she said, holding up a strange ruffly-looking top. “This would be so pretty on you. It’s half-off.”

  I knew why it was half-off, but I thought I’d let her down easier than with the truth.

  “Nah,” I said, wrinkling my nose enough to indicate disagreement rather than outright revulsion. “I never looked that great in blue.”

  She studied it a second longer and then put it back on the rack, taking a white one, identical, into her hand and holding it up for me. “What about white?” she said. “Or black.” She held up a black one then, looking back and forth between each of them and then at me.

  I gently bit the inside of my mouth.

  “I...don’t really like it much,” I winced a tiny bit, hoping she wasn’t the type that offended easily.

  Beverlee smiled and hung both tops back on the rack, the hanger clinking against the metal.

  “Yeah,” she said, “I guess they are a little overdone with the ruffles. Reminds me of a poet’s shirt.”

  Not exactly sure what a poet’s shirt was, but I went along with it.

  Beverlee moved over to the next circular rack and slid her hand in between several different tops, moving each one back in the line until she found a potential.

  “Now this one is cute,” she said, holding it up to show me.

  Carefully I studied the faint gray pattern against the darker gray fabric. I moved in closer to see what the pattern was. A koi fish. Definitely more doable than ruffles. My hand moved toward the end of the sleeve where the price tag dangled, but Beverlee pulled the shirt away before I could see it.

  “Don’t worry about that, hon,” she said, beaming. She placed the top in the fold of her arm as if my question on the price was my way of saying I liked it. “What size are you?” She looked me over once, contemplatively. “Small? Maybe a medium?”

  “Medium fits good.”

  Beverlee glimpsed the tag and finally placed it in one of those skinny, upright carts made specifically for upscale clothing stores.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  We moved slowly through the aisles. Every. Single. Aisle.

  “Do you think Alexandra will like this?” she said about a dozen tops, a watch, two pairs of jeans and even bras and panties.

  I picked out a few likely outfits for Alex and then it was over to the shoe store. After thirty minutes there, Beverlee insisted we stop for lunch. She was full of energy, but I liked her. And I could tell that maybe she was a little lonely and I was perfect for filling some kind of void in her life. Uncle Carl wasn’t exactly the outgoing type and I could see why Beverlee might seek human interaction elsewhere. Really, Uncle Carl was kind of monotone.

  My first day at Hall-Dale was just about the way I expected it to be. Uncle Carl dropped me off on his way to work and the few students hanging around out front stared at me as though they’d never seen a thing like me before. I slipped down one long hallway lined by art-filled walls and made my way into the front office. It smelled of cinnamon candles and hospital soap. A man in a navy work jumpsuit stood high atop a ladder with his hands buried in the flickering fluorescent light fixture above him.

  “Good morning,” a woman at the front desk greeted. “How can I help you?” She wore tons of gaudy jewelry on her wrists and around her neck.

  “I’m new,” I said. “Adria Dawson.”

  “Ah yes, I have your class schedule right here.” She pulled a sheet of yellowish paper from somewhere behind the low counter and handed it to me. “Great to have you at Hall-Dale.”

  I smiled my thanks.

  “If you have any questions,” she went on, “or you need help finding your way around, just ask Julia.”

  I glanced around and behind me. The janitor repairing the light grumbled a curse under his breath and briefly sucked on the end of his fingertip.

  “Alright, it’s up and running, Mrs. Wiles,” a girl, who I assumed was Julia, said as she came around the corner from an office door. She added, “Just let the defrag finish.”

  “Julia, this is Adria...” Mrs. Wiles paused and glanced at me briefly.

  “Dawson,” I said.

  “Yes, Adria Dawson is new to the school,” she went on, “and if you wouldn’t mind showing her around, that’d be wonderful.”

  The girl tucked a book underneath her arm and smiled over at me, though she seemed faintly irritated. “Julia Morrow. I’m everybody’s hall-guide.” She walked fully around the counter, positioning her bag strap over her shoulder.

  I gave her a questioning look.

  “Oh no,” she said, realizing, “not that I mind at all, really.” She went to the office doors then. “This way—I think you’ll like it here.”

  I followed.

  “Wait.” Julia put up her arm in front of me.

  I froze at the door half a second before stepping back out into the hall. A small group of students walked past. Really loud. Gossiping about how some girl really ‘screwed up her hair’. Not until they were out of sight did Julia let me pass.

  “Drama Club,” she said. “As soon as they spot you, Dane Fethermore—totally gay, but don’t think I have anything against that—will either try to recruit you, or you’ll be their next target.”

  She led me out of the office just as the first bell rang. Students shuffled casually down the hall while a few darted past so quickly I felt the wind stir my hair.

  “Well, I’m not into Drama,” I said, “so they won’t be recruiting me.”

  Julia smiled over at me. “Not like real Drama Club,” she said. “They just stir up a lot of crap around the school.”

  Oh, that kind of drama, I thought.

  “Hey Jewels,” a guy said to Julia as he appro
ached with a single book in his hand. He looked at me then. “All the way from Georgia, right?”

  How did he know that? My privacy had been threatened already. What if they knew why I came all the way from Georgia? The last thing I needed was to be the poster child for child abuse or alcoholism.

  “Yeah, Athens,” I answered, “I’m Adria.”

  “Adria, cool name,” he said, “I’m Harry—not such a cool name, sounds like an old guy name. Parent’s named me after Houdini.” His face held a slightly embarrassed tone.

  “Well, nice to meet you, Harry,” I said, “and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your name.”

  Harry was tall and lanky with stringy black hair; cute in a strictly brotherly sort of way.

  “Who do you have first period?” Julia asked, taking my schedule from me. “Same as you Harry: Mrs. Scott; Good luck with that,” she warned. “The woman’s Bipolar or skitzo. One day she’s disgustingly cheery, the next she’s snapping your head off for answering a question wrong.” Julia pursed her lips looking down into the paper. “Well, at least you can get the worst out of the way early. Looks like the rest of your teachers are pretty cool.”

  “Let me see that,” Harry said, snatching my schedule from Julia. “No way, Jewels. She’s got Coach Green.”

  “What?” Julia grimaced and snatched my schedule back from him, peering into the text more raptly.

  She looked up at me then and shook her head. I thought maybe I’d just been sentenced the Death Penalty.

  “Coach Green is a retired Drill Sargent,” she said. “Too bad you didn’t get Coach Little.”

  Oh great. A potential failed course. It wasn’t that I was incapable of the more physical classes, just that I never do anything well under pressure.

  “So,” said Harry, “gonna try out for cheerleading or anything?”

  “Ummm, no,” I said matter-of-factly. “I don’t have the personality to pull that off.”

  “Well, there’s other stuff,” said Julia. “Like...well you could try Band, or Bungee Jumping.”

  I made a face. “Are you serious?”

  Harry just laughed. I couldn’t believe I almost fell for it.

  “I wish!” said Julia. “That would be the ultimate class for sure.”

  We made our way to an open classroom and stopped outside the door.

  “This is us,” said Harry. “I wonder what it’ll be today: hyped up on Poppins happy pills, or her head spinning three-sixty.”

  Their mockery of mental illness bugged me a little. My mom had been on medication for depression for three years. But I knew Julia and Harry probably didn’t really mean anything by it. Mrs. Scott was probably a real piece of work. I was worried though, especially about having her as my first teacher of the day.

  “I guess Harry can take it from here,” said Julia. “Catch you again next period.”

  Julia left quickly and slipped into a class at the far end of the hall.

  I turned to Harry. “Looks like we’re late,” I said with a slight edge in my voice. I noticed we were the only students left in the hallway and the classroom was full. I was afraid this notorious teacher was going to embarrass me in front of everyone. Make me stand up in front of the class an introduce myself. Tell everyone where I moved from and if I’m enjoying Maine so far.

  “It’s your first day,” said Harry. “And my excuse is that I’m helping you, so we should be good.”

  It’s one of the most uncomfortable feelings in the world: entering a new classroom late and every pair of eyes on you. Harry walked me to the far corner of the class where his desk was.

  “Miss Dawson,” said Mrs. Scott, “welcome to my class.”

  She was smiling like the Cheshire cat. Did this mean my prayers had been answered and she was ‘hyped up on Poppins happy pills’? I held my breath.

  “Since it looks like Harry’s showing you around,” Mrs. Scott went on, “I’ll let you sit next to him.”

  But there wasn’t an empty seat next to his desk. I waited a long, unnerving second.

  “Jen,” Mrs. Scott said pointing to an empty spot further down the row, “you may move back to your old desk.”

  The girl happily gathered her books and tote and then walked past me to the empty seat.

  I sat down and situated my things; the chair scraped annoyingly across the tile floor. Mrs. Scott placed a book in front of me. “We’re studying section seven, so if you’ll open it to page thirty-three we can get started.”

  I was thankful that it took no time for the teacher to take the spotlight off me. She went right into ‘endoplasmic reticulum’. She seemed normal, a bit too cheerful, but still normal. I thought I’d have to see how she acted tomorrow before I made any unofficial psychiatric conclusions.

  After second period Spanish with Julia, I was on my own until I met up with Harry again in fourth-period Geometry. I got all the same looks from all the same sorts of people throughout the day, but for the most part, the school was either friendly or paid no attention to me at all. Just the way I liked it.

  At lunch, I hung out with Julia, Harry and their closest friends, Tori and Sebastian, who quite honestly had a little more than my attention upon first glance. Only problem was he and Tori were a couple. That, I thought, was probably a good thing. Relationships just weren’t my thing; casual, serious or anything in-between. Mom once told me I ‘wasn’t normal’ and that I ‘should be fighting with Alex over boys by now’. Guess it just took me longer to catch up. Really, I think it had a lot to do with my mom’s relationship rap sheet. Growing up around that hardly made anything about it seem desirable.

  During lunch, all five of us sat outside on a stone picnic table underneath a shade tree. I was glad to have found my group of friends so quickly, rather than wandering around the school for days until someone had pity on me and decided to take me in. And I did like them all very much. Harry was naturally likable and probably didn’t have an enemy in the entire school. Tori and Sebastian were too into each other, she sitting between his legs with his arms wrapped around her from behind, to say much at all. Now Julia, she and I had more in common I knew during our office introduction. We dressed a lot alike; the baggy but chic look and I noticed she wasn’t too fond of make-up, either. Except for mascara, which I admit, is absolutely vital in any girls’ arsenal, no matter how small.

  “So why did you move to Maine, anyway?” Julia said and then put a can of Mountain Dew to her lips, gulping down the last of it.

  “My mom sent me to live with my uncle,” I lied, “because she took a job traveling.” It was all I could come up with on such short notice.

  “Hey look,” Julia said then, gawking toward the street as a muddy Jeep with big tires pulled onto campus. “I wonder what her excuse is for today.”

  I was relieved the focus shifted so quickly. Any conversation about Alex made me uncomfortable and I got the feeling that telling them I had a sister was just a few questions away.

  The Jeep pulled up to the front of the school and a girl got out on the passenger’s side. The first thing I noticed was her short spiky white-blond hair. She tossed a black bag over her shoulder and carried a stack of books in the fold of her other arm.

  There were three guys in the Jeep, too, all looking in our general direction. The girl glanced over at us once before heading inside.

  “She’s only been at this school a week longer than you,” Julia began, “and she’s been late every day so far.”

  Tori stopped fingering Sebastian’s bootlace long enough to say, “She’s weird. I have her in fifth period—hardly says a word. Freak.”

  “Well, maybe she just sleeps late,” I said. “My mom is like that; can’t get her out of bed before noon if you kick her.”

  “She looks older than a junior,” Julia added.

  Tori used Sebastian’s hand as a notepad, drawing random curlicues with tiny hearts on the ends. “Well I don’t like her,” she added without taking her eyes off her work. “She creeps me out.”
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  I glanced back at the Jeep as it slowly pulled away from campus. I wasn’t the only new girl at school. This was a good thing.

  “Hey, Adria,” said Harry, “Do you skate?”

  The question caught me off-guard. “Ummm, what like regular skating, or skateboarding?” I hoped this wasn’t some kind of dating inquiry.

  “Do I look like someone you’d find at a rink?” He laughed. “There’s a skate park not far from here. If you want, you can go with us after school.”

  I looked first at everyone else, waiting for them to confirm or deny that they were going.

  “You don’t have to skate,” said Julia, jumping in to save me. She likely saw the expression on my face that I didn’t realize was so loud. “Harry’s the only one that skates; Sebastian doesn’t even do it.”

  “Yeah, he sucks at it,” laughed Harry.

  Sebastian reached over and playfully punched Harry on the shoulder. Immediately, the act reminded me of Alex the night in the park. Already that memorable night was proving to be just that. Unfortunately, the night air and smell of honeysuckle and pine was eclipsed by the more terrifying event afterwards.

  I shook it off quickly and turned my attention back on my friends.

  I realized Harry was the only one among us that looked like a skater. In fact, I realized something different about all of us. We each looked as though we belonged to a totally different group of people, except Julia and I. Tori was a girly-girl with a dash of rebellion in glittery eye shadow and a cutesy pink baby doll shirt. Sebastian was more difficult to categorize; one of the individualists. His black Doc Marten boots could almost place him in with the rocker guys, but only almost. And it was Julia’s brazen, playful personality that made her different rather than her wardrobe choices. I could never be as brave as her. Maybe ‘brave’ wasn’t the right word. Somehow I got the sense that ‘careless’ was more like it.

  I started thinking about the girl from the Jeep with white-blond hair. I felt bad for her, maybe because she was new and I knew how that felt. But also, I was intrigued by her and I couldn’t figure out why. It was a strange but insignificant curiosity. I let go of it until I met up with her in the hallway after school was over.