Beautiful
Page 16
But for now, there is no island. You are gone and this is not a movie. For now, there is only a new school in a new city, new teachers and new students who never knew who I was before. There is me with a naked face and my hair in a ponytail, trying not to be seen. There is a scholarship with my name on it and an expensive classroom with desks arranged in a circle. There are students who speak without raising their hands. A teacher who listens. Nodding and thoughtful hands on chins. There are strangers looking at the new girl. They are looking at me and wanting me to speak.
I am sitting at my desk, listening to everyone talk about Dostoyevsky. I am trying not to look up, trying not to show how much I want to be in on this conversation, trying not to show how much I want to say. I am holding my pencil too tight. I put it down so I won’t break it. I stare at my blank notebook, trying to make the blue lines move.
And then there is something in front of me, a foreign object covered with lines and squiggles that are not mine. I look up and the girl next to me smiles, her freckles so perfect she could be Annie. I squint and look closer. I scour the white skin, the red curls, the blue eyes for cruelty. But all she’s doing is smiling. All she did was put her notebook on my desk, turned to a page with a picture I do not recognize.
It is a drawing, a penciled comic. It is a room full of ducks arranged in a circle, their cartoon beaks open, the dialogue bubbles spelling Quack! At the bottom of the page, at one edge of the circle, sit two geese, one with a ponytail, the other with curly hair and freckles. The freckled goose says, “Hi, I’m Chelsea.”
I pick up my pencil and write words for the other.
Cassandra. Nice to meet you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
To my parents, who always supported my creativity and weirdness, even when it was loud and messy. You knew, even when I didn’t, that all those messes were just part of the plan.
To my mentors and teachers and readers: Lisa Rosenberg, Sarah Stone, Edie Meidav, Brian Teare, Daphne Gottlieb, Felicia Ward, Carolyn Cooke, Helen Klonaris, Chris Savino, everyone in Writing & Consciousness at New College, and so many more. Your wisdom and support made me a better writer than I’d ever be on my own.
To my agent, Amy Tipton, who believed in me when I was starting not to—with that first phone call, you gave me a taste of what it feels like to have a dream come true. And to Anica Rissi at Simon Pulse—I am truly blessed to have an editor who gets my work as well as you do.
And finally—to my fantastic, amazing, adorable, and talented husband Brian. This never would have happened without you. Your love makes me brave.