Chapter Fourteen
Dean stood in the water surrounded by fifteen splashing eight-year-olds and watched Francie as she taught the younger class. No matter what Francie did, it seemed like poetry in motion. Dean wasn’t sure if he was the luckiest guy on earth to simply know her, or if he was cursed to always be on the outside looking in.
After the beach party, Dean had hoped that he and Francie had forged some type of connection. But the very next day, she acted as if nothing had happened. Frustration welled up inside of him.
Why didn’t she like him? All the girls practically threw themselves at his feet—all except Francie. He knew that he shouldn’t push her buttons but darn it! She was so expressive when she was mad. He liked the flash of annoyance in her eyes and the way her cheeks would heat.
It wasn’t very gentlemanly to goad her on, but sometimes Dean couldn’t help himself.
“Hey, are you going to teach us something or not?” Harry’s high-pitched reprimand brought Dean back to his class.
“Harry, what could I possibly teach that you don’t already know?” Dean wasn’t above laying it on thick so that the kids wouldn’t rat him out.
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You are sweet on that girl over there.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where Harry was pointing.
“She’s a new teacher, Harry. I am just making sure that she doesn’t need any help.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Sure you were.” Then, in a pretend woman’s voice, Harry taunted, “Help me! Save me with your big strong—”
Dean snatched the kid up before Francie could take notice of his antics. Dunking Harry under the water, he called out to the other kids, “Get ready for sharks and minnows!”
The kids loved this game, where three of the strongest swimmers were sharks and they set out to tag the minnows. Once you were tagged, you became a shark as well.
“On your mark, get set, go!” Dean called out, and the kids immediately scattered. Dean was pleased to see that Harry was one of them.
When they finally wrapped up lessons for the day, Dean exited the pool and began to dry off with his towel. As Harry passed, he made kissing noises at Dean and nearly got snapped with the towel for his efforts.
Dean had to smile at the little monster. The kid had spirit.
“Looks like you had a good class today.”
Dean whipped around to see Francie approaching with two bottles of soda.
“Is that for me?” he asked hopefully.
Francie nodded. “They were handing them out at the snack shop. I thought I would get you one as a thanks for the other night.”
His brow rose in question. Was she talking about what happened at the bonfire? His brows rose. Dean had been certain that Francie blocked the whole thing out. Not wanting to press her too hard, he said, “It wasn’t any trouble at all.”
Francie nodded and looked away. Her finger ran up and down the neck of the bottle, and Dean found himself wishing that he was that bottle. It took him a moment to realize she had spoken again.
“Erm, I’m sorry, what was that?”
She huffed and moved closer, causing his heart rate to skyrocket. “I asked if anything like that had ever happened to you before.”
Dean was very careful as he responded, “There have been a lot of strange things happening lately. Don’t you think?”
Francie rubbed her arms, even though the summer sun was nice and warm. “Yeah, loads of strange things. Do you think…Oh, I don’t even know what to ask. I just know that something isn’t right—with me.”
A pang in his chest nearly had Dean reaching out and taking her hand. The last thing he could have ever wanted was Francie to feel bad about herself. He had seen that look before. It was in school when they were made science partners. The partnership hadn’t lasted more than a day. Dean had almost gone to the teacher to demand why Francie had asked to change.
But there had been something so vulnerable about how she had looked that day—almost stricken. Whatever demons plagued Francie Everette, they were very real to her.
“Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I am talking about,” Francie continued. “What did you mean—the other day—when you saw me pinching my leg? Why did you say that Ginger would be black and blue?”
Dean knew he shouldn’t have said anything. All of her questions and doubts would be cleared up when she entered the academy. He just hadn’t been able to help himself. There was something different about Francie Everette. She was under his skin.
The problem was, Dean had sworn not to say anything about the magic that resided in their town. The academy needed to be established and accepted. The ideal situation would be that the town would go along its way, none the wiser. Sadly, secrets were like the chicken pox and tended to spread like wildfire.
“I was just joking around,” Dean said with a smirk.
Her face fell and he felt like he had been kicked in the gut. Dean watched as Francie’s eyes narrowed and her lips flattened into a line.
“You’re lying,” she said, with a determined tilt to her chin.
Dean felt a little burst of pride at her show of defiance. Wanting to press her a bit, he replied, “Prove it.”
Francie took a step closer than was normally acceptable. Suddenly, Dean felt as if he couldn’t get enough air. It was a hot summer day, that was for certain. But with Francie in his personal space, he suddenly felt like he’d stepped into an inferno.
Her words came out slow and steady. “I think you are lying about a lot of things, Dean Woods. I think there is something strange about the academy. I think that you know full well what was happening when I pinched my leg. Furthermore, I think that you saw me shoving that boy with nothing more than my mind and I think you know why. I don’t know why you insist that you don’t. But I think you are acting like a coward.”
She swung around and started to walk away from him. Dean reached out and grabbed her elbow. Her skin was soft and warm from the sun. She whipped back around with a look of incredulity on her face.
“Excuse me?” she sputtered with indignation.
Dean moved in, every bit as close as Francie had been moments before. He watched as her eyes dilated with fear or maybe excitement. His own pulse was hammering, but he fought to keep it steady. In a low voice, Dean whispered, “I think that there are some secrets that aren’t mine to tell, Francie Everette.”
Then he let go of her elbow and was gone, leaving Francie there gaping at his departing back.
Chapter Fifteen
Betty glanced at the clock on the wall. Two minutes had passed since the last time she had looked. Betty could have sworn that the stupid thing was moving backward on her. She knew it was silly to get her hopes up every time the bell on the shop door chimed.
Kenny obviously had better things to do, she reasoned. But it didn’t stop her heart from jumping every time. Another glance at the clock—this time it really hadn’t moved, not even a minute.
Betty had thought a lot about what Kenny had said. She wasn’t sure if she really believed in magic, but something strange was going on in Clarkstown. Something that needed to be addressed. Wishing he would stop in, Betty decided that just watching the clock wouldn’t help anything.
With a huff, Betty began to straighten up the already tidy surf shop. She was just stacking some cans of wax when the bell sounded, indicating that someone had entered.
Betty popped up with a grin that could light up the whole city. Only, as soon as she saw who it was, her smile fell. “Oh, hey, Francie.”
“Well, that’s a fine how do you,” Francie answered as she moved into the shop. Making herself at home, she hopped up onto the stool behind the counter.
Betty’s brows drew together as she tried to explain. “You know that I love it when you come see me. It’s just, I thought you were—not that it matters, because it doesn’t. It’s just—”
“I am not a tall, lanky greaser with a duck butt and a fast car?” Fran
cie teased.
Betty’s cheeks heated. “Listen to you, running your mouth. I saw Dean holding you in his arms at the bonfire. He seemed mighty upset for someone who hardly knows who you are.”
It was Francie’s turn to look uncomfortable. “He was just making sure that I was okay. I don’t know why I had to be such a spaz.”
Betty eyed Francie up and down. “I can’t tell if you are the best actress in the world, or if you really don’t know what happened that night.”
Francie tucked her hands behind her, but it wasn’t before Betty saw that they were shaking. A part of Betty wanted to go easy on her best friend. But something wasn’t right. With the thoughts of Kenny’s confession on her mind, Betty knew she needed answers. And she had a feeling that Francie needed to talk things through.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Francie said in a low voice. Her eyes were downcast. The move was so utterly unlike Francie that Betty was really starting to worry.
With a sigh, Betty considered what she should do. Having grown up with the public eye on her, Betty knew what it was like to have people talking about her. When her mother had first run off, there were words of sympathy.
But it wasn’t long before Betty overheard some of the names they called her mama when they didn’t think she could hear. At first, she hadn’t even known what some of them meant. She had asked Uncle Buck a few and watched as he went from shocked to steaming angry.
Betty never again repeated to her uncle the gossip about her family. For a while, it went from bad to worse. However, there were two people who never once said anything about her mama leaving, and that was Ginger and Francie.
Betty had always been thankful that they had kept quiet. But now she was wondering if maybe it would have been better had they talked about things openly.
“Do you remember when my mama left?”
Francie’s head shot up. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting Betty to talk about her mother. She blinked for a second and then spoke. “Yeah, we were in Mrs. Stapleton’s class, third grade—wasn’t it?”
Betty nodded. “Yep, the principal came down to the classroom and pulled me out. I thought I was in trouble for calling Posy greedy-guts.”
Francie’s lips twitched. “She was greedy-guts. She always hogged the four square and the tether ball court. It was like she knew what we wanted to play and always got there first.”
“Her and Susan would call us names. Do you remember?” Betty asked, leaning back against the counter.
Francie grimaced. “How could I forget? She called me fatty-pants.”
“Which is rather comical, considering that you were always on the slender side,” Betty said with a laugh.
Francie stuck her tongue out at Betty. “It’s better than snot-rocket.”
They both broke off into giggles.
Betty was the first to contain herself. “It really was too bad that Ginger had started laughing just as she took that drink of milk.”
“It was more unfortunate that she sprayed Harry Jones with her milky snot-rocket,” Francie added with a laugh. “I don’t remember what she called you.”
Betty chose her words carefully. “She called me a streetwalker. Said I was just like my mama.”
The smile slipped from Francie’s face. “Betty, I am so sorry. I had forgotten.”
Betty shrugged and said, “Some things you don’t forget.”
“Aw, Betty, I didn’t mean to make you sad.” Francie folded her arms nervously.
“I am not sad. At least, not anymore. Francie, we never talked about that stuff when my mom left. I knew that you and Ginger knew—goodness, everyone in this town knew. I know that I probably wasn’t open to it then. I was so wrapped up in the hurt and betrayal of it all. But maybe I was wrong in keeping it to myself all of these years.”
Francie frowned as she asked, “What are you saying, Betty? You want to talk about your mama leaving?”
Betty shook her head. “No, I mean, yes—that would be fine. But we don’t talk about the things that really matter. Why is that? Why didn’t we question Ginger when she started wearing the baggy sweaters? Why do we skate over the struggles you have with reading?”
Francie’s eyes widened and she looked angry.
“Please don’t be mad, Francie. I have known you my whole life. I love you like a sister. I knew that you had a hard time with reading. I’ve always known. I haven’t told anyone, and I don’t plan on it. But why do we pretend that it doesn’t exist? Why do we pretend that my mama leaving didn’t mean anything?”
Some of the fight left Francie’s stance as she blew out a long sigh. She still wasn’t talking, but she didn’t look like she was going to commit a felony either. Betty tried pressing her luck. “Are you mad at me, Francie Everette?”
Francie let out a bark of laughter. “You are something else, Belinda Mae. I ought to knock your block off for being so nosy.”
“You wouldn’t get a punch in and you know it,” Betty popped off with a relieved smile.
“I know you want to talk about what happened at the bonfire. The truth is that I just don’t know. I have no idea why that boy went flying, or how I caused it to happen.”
“But you do think it was because of you?” Betty jumped on the admission.
Francie nodded slowly. “I felt the energy in my hands, and then afterward it was as if all of my reserves were suddenly gone. I couldn’t have held myself up if I wanted to. I can’t believe all of that happened in front of half the kids at school.”
Betty wrapped an arm around Francie and gave an encouraging squeeze. “Don’t worry about them. Your friends, the ones that matter, won’t care. I just wish we had some answers as to what was happening.”
Francie shrugged away from Betty and crossed to the other side of the counter. At first, Betty wondered if their sharing session was over. But then Francie spoke. “I think that Dean knows what’s happening to me.”
Betty’s eyes widened. “Why do you say that?”
Francie described the conversation she had with Dean earlier that day. “He said that some secrets weren’t his to tell,” she concluded.
Betty let out a low whistle. “Well, ain’t that the bee’s knees. And here I thought we were going to hate going to the academy. It’s sounding more interesting all of the time.”
“Interesting or frightening?” Francie quipped, but it was clear she wasn’t amused.
“Interesting,” Betty said with a decisive nod. “Whatever is going on with you, Francie, you can clearly defend yourself. I’m not worried about going to the academy. Not with you and Ginger by my side.”
And Kenny, she added silently—at least, she hoped he would be by her side. Something that Dean said really struck her: it wasn’t his secret to tell. Was he talking about the academy, or was Dean talking about Kenny?
Either way, he was right. As much as Betty wanted to spill the beans about Kenny and his dad, it wasn’t her secret. He had trusted her, and Betty wasn’t going to break that trust. Not even for her best friends.
Francie gave her a weak smile in return. “I hope you’re right.”
“I know I am,” Betty answered with a decisive nod. “Now, let’s get out of here. We need to fill Ginger in on the details and formulate a plan. I think we need a name. Pin-up Girls.”
Francie looked around the shop in confusion. “Won’t your uncle be mad you are closing early?”
Betty followed Francie’s gaze to the clock on the wall that had finally moved. Goodness, it had been half an hour since Francie came into the shop.
Betty’s mind was made up. They were going to get things out into the open and they were going to solve the mystery surrounding the academy. “Don’t worry about Uncle Buck. I can feel one of those special ‘girl emergencies’ coming on.”
The girls laughed as they locked up and headed towards Sparks Soda Shop. It wouldn’t be long before Ginger got off work and a sleepover was in order. They had a city to save.
Chapter Si
xteen
CHAPTER 16-
“Ouch, Francie! I don’t think it goes there!” Ginger wailed as Betty watched in horrid fascination.
“Hold still then!” Francie retorted impatiently. “I didn’t cry when you did mine. Sheesh, every time you move it makes it harder to get it in!”
Ginger slapped at Francie’s hands. “Stop, you are fumbling this all up! Is it supposed to burn like that?”
Betty laughed from her spot across from them. “Mine burned like the dickens—still does if I’m honest.”
Francie rolled her eyes and gave Ginger a determined glare. “Listen, we both let you stick us with your mom’s sewing needle to pierce our ears. There is no way we are going to let you be a wet blanket.”
Ginger looked at the small metal pin. “How does that little thing hurt so bad?”
“How am I supposed to know? I can’t feel your body!” Francie answered. “But I do know that the faster we get this done, the faster we can cement our new sisterhood.”
“For the record, I think it’s a stupid idea,” Ginger said stubbornly.
“You think all of our ideas are stupid,” Betty replied with a smile.
“Only ones involving bloodshed!”
Francie’s lips twitched.
“Fine, it will just be Betty and me.” Francie set the sewing needle on the side table and grabbed a few grapes from the snack they had abandoned earlier.
Ginger’s eyes widened with gratitude before slowly narrowing with suspicion. “This is just a trick. You aren’t going to let me out of this, are you?”
“Pin-up Girls are all for one and one for all. If you want to be in the club, you have to pay the price.”
Ginger cringed at the name Betty had insisted on calling the three of them. “Isn’t that the three musketeers?”
When Betty shrugged and continued to stare at Ginger, she felt a churning in her gut. Ginger had been thrilled when Francie and Betty had first come over, talking about opening the lines of communication between the friends. The close bonds of sisterhood had always been something that Ginger craved. She had long wished to talk with Betty about her mom, and she knew that Betty would have Francie’s back with her trouble while reading. Ginger also longed to talk to them more about her desires to be a doctor.
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