by Natasja Eby
I glance over to where Cherry is sitting alone, quietly reading a book that looks like it’s not on the syllabus. I want to comment on how Julian always seems to know things about her, but instead I say, “Rubber boots? For reals?”
“Yes, for reals,” he responds dryly. “Would I lie to you?”
I shrug. “How would I know? We haven’t known each other that long.”
He smiles and his little blue eyes sparkle behind his glasses. “Good point. But I’m not a liar. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”
I chuckle and find that maybe I don’t mind Julian as much as I thought I would. “She asked about you yesterday.”
“What?” he asks distractedly as he reaches into his bag to pull out a textbook. It annoys me that he likes to get a head start on homework at lunchtime, but since he is the only almost-friend I have, I don’t want to offend him by saying so.
“Cherry,” I offer and his head snaps up. “She was asking me about you. I think she thought we were a couple. Which we aren’t.” I thought I would make that clear, just in case.
Julian’s face flushes pink and I think he might actually faint from the exertion of it. “Sorry,” I apologize hastily. I grab my hair and start twisting it like I do whenever I feel uncomfortable. “I didn’t really mean that the way it came out.”
“It’s all right, Ella,” he says, returning his attention to the textbook. “You and I barely know each other. That’s not what I was—” he cuts himself off, chewing on his lip like he’s trying hard not to say something.
“That’s not what you…?” I prompt, finding myself interested now that I know he’s maybe got a secret.
He clears his throat, never once looking at me as he flips through the book. I know his book isn’t that fascinating, not even for a geek. When it’s clear that he’s flipping for the sake of stalling rather than looking for an actual page, I grab it from him and shut it with a satisfying clunk.
“That’s not what you were what?” I insist. I guess I’ve always been a curious person, but normally I’m used to people just telling me things.
Julian sighs. “That’s not what I was…you know…” he gestures to his face, which has gone back to its natural non-colour. With a shrug he says, “Look, I know I’m an open book. I’m too honest for my own good and my face tells everything I’m feeling. I’m not that hard to figure out.”
“Ah,” I say, sort of, kind of getting it. “I have to say, it’s interesting to see your face with so much colour. So what were you blushing about anyway?”
His face rouges again. I’m starting to find it rather cute. “It’s just Cherry. She’s…” he stops then and suddenly rolls his head backwards until he’s staring at the ceiling. He lets out an unintelligible groan and asks, “Are you really going to make me say all this?”
Now we’re getting somewhere. Excited at the prospect that maybe there’s something going on between Jules and Cherry, I try to contain my giggle and say a little too enthusiastically, “Yes!”
As Jules drops his head back down, I catch the tail end of an eye roll. “It’s not what you think, Ella.”
I just stare at him, a technique which mysteriously seems to work. “Okay. Okay…Cherry and I once had a date.” My eyebrows shoot to the ceiling which causes Julian to look a little embarrassed. “Or rather, I should say we were supposed to go on a date. But…I didn’t show up.”
“What?” I ask. That’s not what I was expecting to hear. “Why not?”
He hesitates. “It’s complicated.”
“How complicated?” I ask him. Now I’m really into this story and I just want to know everything.
“Too complicated to tell you right now,” he says. I’m disappointed, but it leaves me hopeful until he says, “Or maybe ever.”
“Aw, come on, Jules. Are we friends or not?”
“I just…I don’t want to talk about it,” he says quietly.
I know he really means it. Like he said himself, he’s much too honest for his own good. So I decide to leave him alone about it. But then I think that maybe I’ll ask Cherry about it later and wonder if that would be betraying any kind of trust Julian has in me. I put it to the back of my mind, where I can take it out later on my own time and examine it.
“Ella, do you have any idea how often you zone out?” Jules is asking me with an amused tone in his voice. “Because you do it a lot, and frankly it’s starting to concern me.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, with real sincerity in my voice. Maybe I am getting a hang of this whole being Canadian thing.
“Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything,” Jules changes the subject suddenly, “but Adrian McDuff keeps looking over at you.”
“Huh?” I say, oh-so-intelligently.
“Adrian McEveryone-Loves-Me-Just-Because-Duff,” Julian says with an exasperated tone.
Jules nods towards a spot behind my right shoulder and I turn to look. There, very openly staring as Jules said, is the boy I ran into at the mall. Then I remember the name and how I heard one of his friends say it. And of course, he’s watching us watching him, so now he knows that we’re talking about him. I turn back around before my blush is fully noticeable.
“Oh no, not you, too!” Jules says with exaggerated sorrow in his voice.
That brings me back to Earth and I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that. I don’t like him. It’s just that I literally ran into him at the mall the other day and it was really awkward.”
“Literally literally, or figuratively literally?” he asks.
“Literally, as in full on chest bumping,” I answer.
Julian not-so-subtly glances down past my collarbone and I lean across the table and whack him on the side of the head.
“Ow,” he complains, rubbing his head.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect girls?” I ask in a stern voice, though inside I’m laughing at Julian.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. Then he shrugs. “I’m just saying, you must have made quite an impression on him.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, can we stop talking about whatever-his-name-is now?”
Julian opens his mouth and I know he’s got some witty retort for me, but then the bell rings. I audibly let out a sigh of relief I didn’t realize I’d been holding in.
“See you in class, Ella,” Jules says as he picks up his bag.
I frown and ask, “Why don’t we just walk together?”
Julian hesitates as he watches the other students leave the cafeteria. “Don’t you have to go to your locker?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be quick,” I say. “Come on.” If he insists on being friends with me then I figure he might as well accompany me between classes. It’s only fair.
Julian pauses, hunches his shoulders, inhales deeply, and then finally says, “’Kay.”
I have no idea what his problem is, but he doesn’t say another word as he follows me to my locker. When we get to my locker, I open my mouth to say something. But just as the word forms on my lips, Julian is suddenly propelled against the locker next to mine. I turn quickly enough to realize it’s because some meathead has pushed him hard.
“Hey!” I yell at the guy, but he completely ignores me. “Are you all right?” I ask Jules.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says. He doesn’t look visibly shaken and his tone of voice is neutral, but I’m sure that what just happened is not fine.
“Really? Because—”
“Don’t worry about it, Elli,” Jules cuts me off with a shake of his head. He puts a smile on his face, but it’s not real and we both know it. But I let it go. Because, again, I don’t want offend my new almost-friend.
As we make our way to class, we pass by Adrian McWhat’s-His-Name who is still staring at us, as if that were his whole aim in life. I frown discouragingly at him and to my dismay, he gives me an alarmingly gorgeous smile back. I look away quickly in case he can tell how hard my heart is suddenly beating.
CHAPTER six
Mom and Dad h
ave been fighting more often lately. I can’t tell if it’s because of the weather, because of my—admittedly rarely-seen—uncle, or because they’ve basically gotten over each other. I’ve ruled out that it’s me, since they seem to have forgotten that I exist. I guess it’s easier to shut them out when they don’t pay any attention to me, but it’s still disturbing how much more they’re fighting. I blame Canada.
It’s Saturday and I’ve spent most of it doing homework. That much has not changed since the big move: teachers here still show their resentment for their jobs by piling homework onto the backs of poor, defenseless students. While I do my math, I can’t help but think about Julian, which is totally weird, so I’m glad there isn’t much left to do.
I’ve decided it’s time for a break, so I let my laptop boot up while I make myself a snack. I open up my email and gasp when I see an email from Kai. He titled it “So far, so cold,” which actually warms my heart.
“Elli,” it reads, “I miss you so much! How are you? I can’t believe you’ve been gone for a month already. I keep expecting to see you at school or the beach, but I never do. Obviously.
“I know we haven’t really talked about it a whole lot, but our kiss meant a lot to me. I’ve liked you for a long time and never had the guts to tell you until it was too late.
“I’m sorry, Elli. I’m sorry I was too late and I’m sorry we’re so far apart now. I don’t know what else to say.”
Okay, so, short of proposing, this was probably the best thing he could have ever written me. Like—look at all the beautiful words! My heart aches a little (a lot) at the loss of something I barely even had, and I have to blink several times to keep any tears from falling. I’m afraid to cry in this country because I don’t want my tears to freeze.
I start to type out the perfect response to his email. I want to tell him something meaningful, something hopeful, without lying. But it’s hard to sound happy when you’re completely miserable. Especially since now, I’m reminded of the only kiss I’ve ever had and that I’ll probably never get any more from Kai.
“Kai, I can’t believe it’s been that long either. Although, it feels a lot longer. How am I doing? Well, it’s freezing cold here and I miss you and the gang a lot, but I’m okay.” A couple little white lies among the truth can’t hurt.
“I can’t stop thinking about the way you kissed me before I left. It was the best day of my life, and it probably always will be.” Too much? Probably. “I really just wish I could come back and stay forever. Someday, I hope I will.
“Thanks for your email, Kai. It brought a little of that Hawaiian sunshine into my life. Bye for now.”
I don’t give myself time to edit or even proofread, because I don’t want to second-guess myself. Otherwise, I might never send it.
When I’m done rereading Kai’s email fifteen times over, I go back downstairs. Mom and Dad are still arguing, but to a lesser degree. Right now, instead of yelling, they’re just muttering things at each other. Or maybe they’re talking to themselves.
It’s none of my business really, so I barge into the den and announce, “I want to go back to Hawaii.”
They both stop their ranting to look at me. Mom’s face is a mixture of exasperation and surprise; Dad’s pity and impatience. They never take me seriously.
When neither of them speaks, I add, “Even just for a little while. Just until winter’s over. I can stay at a friend’s house.”
“That’s not happening, Elli,” Mom says sternly.
“Why not?” I whine.
“Uh, are you forgetting you have a school to attend? Obligations here at home?” Mom’s irritation is quickly turning south. I should have known better than to have this conversation when they were in a bad mood to start with.
I bite back a retort about my so-called obligations at home. I don’t do anything at home that would require me to stay in this country. I look at Dad to see if he’ll offer me any sort of support, but he avoids my eyes like he’ll turn to stone or something.
“This isn’t fair,” I say. “You know that right?”
Mom sighs. “You’ve only told us a hundred times.”
My fists clench up. What did I do to deserve this treatment from her? I’ve always been on her side with everything. And now she’s throwing my words in my face?
I turn to go just as Dad says, “Shauna. She’s just a kid.”
“What am I supposed to say to her?” Mom snaps. “We don’t have the money to send her back to Hawaii even if I thought that was a good idea.”
They don’t have money? How much could it possibly cost to go to Hawaii?
“If I get the money myself, can I go back?” I ask, hope running rampant through my veins and out my mouth.
Mom opens her lips and I know she’s starting to form the word no. Then Dad, who is now my superhero, says, “Not during school. But maybe…maybe during Spring break. Or after school’s done.”
“Bob!” Mom exclaims.
“What?” Dad turns on her. “Lots of kids go away for Spring break. And it’s not like there aren’t a lot of people back home who wouldn’t take her for a week.”
“Really?!” I squeak. I rush over to my dad and put my arms tightly around his neck. I’m probably suffocating him, but he doesn’t seem to care. “Oh, Dad, you’re the best!”
“Okay, Elli, okay,” he says, gently pulling me back away from him. “But you can only go if you get the money yourself. And it’s not cheap to fly to Hawaii.”
“I’ll get a one-way, then,” I say coyly.
Mom’s not happy with any of this. “If you can earn enough money for a return ticket, then I suppose you can go.” Of course she’d say that. There’s no way she’d let my dad take all the glory for making me happy.
“Thank you, Mom,” I say, offering her a hug too. She doesn’t return it, and I’m still not sure why she’s so upset.
“I don’t know how you’re going to get enough money by March…” she warns.
“Yeah, well, I’ll try my hardest,” I say, grinning at her. She can’t keep me down, not now that they’ve agreed to let me go back. And besides, who says I’ll come back when I leave? Wouldn’t my parents just love to get rid of me? We’d all be happy, if you ask me.
I go back to my bedroom, happier than I’ve been since we moved. I wish I could call Kai right now and tell him I’m coming to him. And Sarah, Andrea, Lily… Oh, they’ll be so excited to hear.
I’m so elated that I haven’t given myself time to think about how exactly I’m going to get the money to go. I don’t want to ruin my mood, but it’s a valid point my mother made. I can’t go if I don’t have the money. I also can’t go during school and I can’t go indefinitely.
I go back online to see what kind of prices a return ticket to Honolulu costs. It’s only…$600-800. Okay, breathe, Elli. Next, I look for any community boards that have job postings. Maybe there will be something for me. Of course, my search starts out optimistic and goes downhill from there.
There’s nothing. I mean, there are some things but unless I have five years’ experience, a driver’s license, or want to work a night shift at a factory, there’s nothing. Not even one single babysitting or dog walking job (not that I’d walk a dog in this weather). Ugh.
Sighing, I close my laptop. But I haven’t resigned myself to the cold icy North just yet. I will find a way. I just need to look harder. Maybe I can ask at the school office or something.
***
When I go to school the next day, I make sure to arrive early so I can go into the guidance office. When I go in, the secretary greets me cheerfully. She’s an elderly lady who’s wearing glasses that, I kid you not, are on a chain. People seriously still wear those. I ask to see a guidance counsellor and she asks if I have an appointment.
“Um, do I need one?” I ask, shifting my backpack nervously.
“Yes, you always need to make an appointment to see the guidance counsellor,” she says. “I can pencil you in for next week.”
&n
bsp; Pencil me in? Who even uses that expression? I mean, she’s got a computer right in front of her. I choke down my attitude and paste a pleasant smile on my face.
“I’m really just wondering if anyone around here can help me find a job,” I tell her, hoping against hope that she’ll actually do something for me.
“Oh,” she says, surprised. “Well, you don’t need to see Mr. Taggart for that. There’s a board just outside the office with some flyers. There may be something there. You can also check some of the local stores. There’s usually something posted.”
I smile again, this time genuinely. Taking a look at the nameplate on the desk, I say, “Thank you, Ms. Robertson.”
“You’re welcome, dear,” she says. She grimaces at me. Or maybe it’s a smile. Hard to tell sometimes when people get to a certain age, but at least I know I’ve maybe found an ally in her.
I go back out and locate the board that’s outside. It’s encased in glass, as if someone’s going to destroy it or something. Or maybe that’s happened in the past and they just didn’t like it. Whatever the reason, if I want to have any of that information I’ll have to write it down or take a picture of it. I opt for taking a picture and pull my phone out in anticipation of several job offers.
There are so many different types of posters—upcoming school events, volunteer opportunities, a flashy green poster calling for auditions for some band, job postings. I see a couple of ads that look promising, even if they won’t be terribly well-paying. I take pictures of all of them. Another ad catches my eye. I can’t say why exactly, since it has nothing to do with working and is all about the school boxing team. Probably because it’s huge and has a picture of a really buff boxer on it. I’m kind of surprised they have a boxing team here, actually.
“Huh,” I say, touching the glass where the boxing ad is.
“You’re into boxing?” a female voice says over my shoulder.