I see a shadow in the woods beside me and I run out of the woods screaming. Ally and Adrianne run screaming too and we run the whole rest of the way to school together, screaming. All three of us start laughing when we reach the bike racks. I see the old look in Ally’s eyes and I know I haven’t lost her, yet. Adrianne’s not quite the peacock I made her out to be.
Chapter 8
Just when I think I’m having the most unlucky week of my life, I’m at my locker getting ready for Food Science, looking at myself in my locker mirror––rubbing Almay lip gloss on because I’m not allowed to wear make-up, but I am allowed to have shiny lips.
IT happens.
Something bigger than astral projections or sunny island beaches or exploding bottles with messages inside of them. Or even Ally having the same old look in her eye. Hayden walks up to my locker and he says, “Hi.”
I so know that my pink jeans are lucky even though they’re getting dirty now. Forget Ally. Forget freaking Adrianne. I’m so happy my pink jeans make my butt look good and I say, “Hi,” forgetting how to speak after one word. I wipe my left palm on my lucky pink jeans, remembering when Hayden held my hand. Remembering when he wouldn’t look at me.
“So,” Hayden says in a whisper, he stands really close to me and continues. “Here’s the thing, that place, the island?” Then he hands me a note that reads: It’s Planet Popular.
“Planet...” I say.
Hayden puts a finger over my mouth and my voice is all muffled when I say it, and I’m embarrassed because I spit a little on his skin, and in my next breath I can’t believe I’m the one who’s embarrassed because he’s the one who put his finger over my mouth.
“You can’t say it out loud. Don’t let Adrianne know I told you,” he says.
“Ah, so her strange power over glass is combined with a superhuman-ability to hear things no human could ever hear normally?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Why are you even telling me this?” I say, sort of sick of all the secret-creepiness in my life.
“I have my reasons.”
“And what’s this planet, this-thing-I-can’t-say anyway? What, are you kidding me?”
“It’s a place every teenager visits but...” he says, shifting his eyes up and down the hall.
“But what?”
“But, a certain someone was banished from it and...”
“And that’s why you guys need me? Because I’m so incredibly popular?” I say.
“No ...”
“Of course not. Because I’m not incredibly popular.”
“We need someone with a…”
“Incredible ability to let other people use them?”
“Sort of.”
And then the bell rings and we take off for class, together. See this is how I crushed on Hayden––don’t laugh. I’ve been watching him cook all semester and he has this really cool way of rolling his pretzels. I liked that about him. No one pays attention to the way they roll their pretzels like Hayden. Only, this class is about baking apple pies and I am better at that than Hayden is. And I catch him looking over at me, when I roll out the crust. When I put the pie in the oven, Hayden peers over like he has something more to tell me.
“Wait for me after school. By the bike racks,” he says.
So I do. It’s after school and I’m by the bike racks. Waiting. I hate waiting. And just when I think this is the luckiest day of my life and that my pink jeans are still lucky––even though I’m a teenager now––because Hayden talked to me and slipped me a note and everything, I wish I’d never worn them. Because I hate watching Ally and Adrianne walk home without me. Hayden is late. And pretty soon there are only five bikes in the rack and just when I think he isn’t ever going to show, the bush whispers to me.
“Over here,” it says.
Well, actually it’s a hedge, a row of hedges planted on the other side of the bike racks and I always thought that if I ever wanted to ditch school, I’d hide there first. Then, I’d go where no one would know I was ditching, like a dark, dark movie theatre or the forest. I love the forest. But you know that already.
“Roxie,” the bushes whisper again. And I usually don’t approach strange bushes that talk to me, but I kind of recognize the voice, although his whisper sounds a lot different than his regular voice.
“Hayden? What took you so long?”
“Just sit here, right here beside me.”
“Ok,” I say. He’s so nervous he starts getting me nervous. He’s all looking over his shoulders and peering through the pine needles, checking the teachers’ cars as they drive by. I whisper too because he whispers, even though there’s no one anywhere near that can hear.
“Why are we whispering?”
“Because we have to keep everything I’m about to tell you a secret, that’s why.”
Another secret. But it’s OK. Because today Hayden talked to me and passed me a note and met me at the bike racks and we’re sitting in my secret ditching spot, whispering. To each other. Telling secrets.
“What’s the thing you want to know most of all?” he asks.
I guess right then, the way he’s looking at me so-not-in-control––not like himself at all––and a little scared, I want to know whether he’s a good kisser. “I want to know lots of things,” I say. Because, as cute as Hayden is, if he’s a bad kisser that’s a deal breaker.
“I mean about your birthday,” he says.
“I want to know why you guys even came in the first place. And I want to know where we went to, or didn’t go to, or traveled to in our minds, or you know what I mean.”
“Shhhhh,” he says. Shushing really isn’t attractive.
I don’t like being shushed. “Really?” I whisper back almost shouting. And if he puts his finger over my mouth again I’ll bite it off. I mean, in a way I kinda liked it, but it makes me mad too.
“Ok,” he ducks his head down when a car drives by like they’ll even see us. I’m getting super-sick of the secret-agent man stuff he’s up to. “So here’s the deal,” he says.
“The deal about what?”
“About the island.”
I look at the sky like it might come falling down on us because Hayden decided to tell me something about the thing we had sworn to never tell another living soul about and I really, triple-wanted that ugly rabbit’s foot in my back pocket. I didn’t care what leg it came off of or what kind of eyes the guy had who did the deed.
“It’s another world.”
“I know, I read your note. But what does it even mean? I mean I was there. I’m not popular.”
“It’s a place all kids visit in what they think are their dreams and once you do, if you find what your looking for and your shadow survives, you’re popular. Unless something happens.”
“What happened?”
“There’s really only two rules that can never be broken,” he says.
“What. The freaking Oath of Secrecy? Hey, I know Adrianne has you guys all believing this stuff. And don’t get me wrong, it’s cool. But I’ve never dreamt about the place before. And, Earth to Hayden? Guess what? I’m not popular.”
“But you will be, and that’s why you AP’d with us. Planet Popular finds you. Some kids remember their time there. Some don’t. No one can AP alone. We knew when you sent out the invitations, you’d be next.”
I roll my eyes.
“I knew you would remember,” he says.
“Sounds like a place I don’t want to go. Sounds shallow and mean and exclusive and about everything I hate about pea-, uh, the last two weeks at school. Why would I want to go back there?” I say, even though I want to go back to Planet Popular more than anything because, let’s face it, girls don’t fall for the unpopular guy at school just like boys don’t sit up and take notice of the most interesting dodo they meet. It’s the curse of middle school. Even with everything. All of it. Being grounded for the rest of my life and being ignored by all the peacocks. I want to be a peacock. More than anything.
“When did you decide to send your birthday invitations?” Hayden asks.
Oh, about the time I decided I was doomed to never have a party because I’d never gone to parties and didn’t want to end up the biggest dodo at high school next year. That’s why. Like I’m so going to tell him that. Or, because I have a blind desire to be liked. I’m so going to tell him that. Or, no, I just remembered I’d rather stab my eyeballs with needles.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Well, think about it. I bet the first time you started thinking about the party is exactly when Adrianne got kicked off Planet Popular.”
“Kicked off? Why would she get kicked off and if she did, I know her, she got to go back.”
“I can’t explain,” he says flicking his fingers through his amazing reddish-brown hair.
“Oh, so you coming to my birthday was a sympathy thing. The only reason Adrianne lowered herself to come to my birthday and brought you guys along was so she could show the powers-that-be on Planet Whatever she isn’t a total monster?”
His eyes get wide. “You’re close. Only, she had to do so much more. And she failed.”
Wait a minute. Peacocks don’t fail. Peacocks always win. It’s sort of The Law of Being A Peacock. “Lucky guess,” I say, knowing I’m anything but, looking up at the sky that isn’t falling again. But if some secrets are out, and nothing bad happens then I guess I can talk to pretty much anyone I want to about what happened in the attic on my birthday. I get kind of a warm feeling inside, even though the wind’s coming up and I’ve been used. I’m a peacock. I mean, Hayden said I will be one. Whatever.
But all that really matters is that Hayden and I are hiding together in the bushes, talking. And that’s amazing, but then I blow it. “Why are you just telling me all this?”
“Because you have to be ready.”
“For what?”
“For when we go back.”
And I’m like, “Great. Sign me up. When we go back it’ll be like an episode of Survivor and Adrianne will vote my butt off the island.”
“No, Adrianne left something behind and it’s changed everything.” He bites his lip. “And I want to tell you everything, but I can’t. Adrianne’s already broken one of the rules. And now we’re all going to pay.”
“We? Me?”
“Not you. Me.”
A car pulls up beside the bike racks.
“My mom just pulled up. I have to go. I’ll tell you more tomorrow. Just don’t go into the attic alone.” And he flies out from the middle of the bushes and all of a sudden it’s getting dark, way dark, in the scratchy branches and I’m all alone. I hear Hayden slide a little on the asphalt on his run to his mom’s car, then I watch him run back to me, to the bushes and he sticks his head partway through the branches and says, “You want a ride? It looks like rain.”
“Sure,” I say. “If your mom doesn’t mind.”
“It’s my dad and he’s cool.”
“K.” I climb into Hayden’s dad’s Jeep and the rain comes down hard right after we snap our seat belts on. It’s so cool to be safe and warm and with a guy you like when it’s dark and rainy outside. I like it. A lot. And I wonder for the first time what it will be like to be in high school. Doing all the firsts I have left. I wonder what it will be like to have a boyfriend. To kiss a boy. A guy who worries about me getting wet in the rain. I love that I’m cozy inside Hayden’s car. What I don’t love is how mad Mom is going to be when I ring the doorbell because I forgot my key, again, and she’s beside herself because I’m not at Ally’s like usual.
One thing I do know, my brother says it all the time, Knowledge is power. And I figure if I just go back to Planet Popular by myself, the powers-that-be wouldn’t mind and I’d be the coolest, most popular peacock on this planet because I’d have been the James T. Kirk of Peacocks––going where no peacock as ever gone before––and I’d know more than they do. Note to self: google animals in space. It’ll be my one shot to soar to the top of Oakdale Middle School. I mean, I was the only one who could read the writing on the note and I was the one who saw the weird white orb dancing in my attic––the portal. I’ll go tonight. I can turn into a peacock all on my own. And I like Planet Popular more and more, because if I ran the place I’d kick Adrianne off too. She probably hearty-loopied them to death.
I sit through dinner enduring things like, So how was your day? and Who did you sit with at lunch? I mean, every day Mom asks the same question, right when I get home from school. And sometimes I don’t feel like talking right when I get home from school. Especially when I’m dripping wet. Especially when I forgot my jacket at school and I have to run to the front door and get sopping wet and don’t turn around because I don’t want to give Hayden and his nice father a wet t-shirt view of me. I run upstairs to change so fast Mom barely has time to get mad at me, she sees how wet I am. She stored up all her questions for dinner though and it feels more like Jeopardy than dinner and I get mad halfway through because she doesn’t have any questions, I mean none, for my brothers.
Why don’t they ever get into trouble? I guess it’s the grades. You get straight As, you can do pretty much anything you want.
And, on top of that, when I have much, much more important things to do, like you know, APing to Planet Popular, it’s my night to do the dishes. Which, even when it’s not my night to do the dishes, I still have to do some of them because my brothers are the world’s worst dishwashers.
So I sit at the sink and stare at the bubbles of the soapy dishwater. It’s pretty amazing how magical bubbles are. As I scrape plates with the scrubber in my plastic gloves, it’s the first time I ever wear the icky gloves and the first time I put on an apron to protect my clothes because, well, they’re lucky and I don’t want to get any stains on them, and I think now that I’m a teenager I should start doing things like wearing aprons and rubber gloves.
Anyway, I stare into the water and I get to thinking. Most everyone likes to think of themselves––my Auntie Ann would say fancies themselves––as clever and interesting. But not everyone is, are they? What if I’m not? I mean what if I think I’m all cool and everything and I end up––not. Would they bust me on Planet Popular? It sort of terrifies me.
And what’s this smell I’m smelling? Really? I guess boobs aren’t the only new thing I’ll have to get used to. I guess, when I’m nervous and clearly not-popular enough and about to storm Planet Popular I’ll have to get used to the strange new scent that I’ve got going on. Yuck. Note to self: buy freaking deodorant. I guess along with boobs, and plastic gloves and aprons and my period [which still hasn’t come yet] I get to smell like I’ve just run a mile when I’m at my most vulnerable. Nice.
I look left and then right to make sure I’m alone. Like I’m Wonder Woman and I’m about to spin in circles and turn into superhero outfit. Neither of which I’m actually doing. But I don’t want anyone to see me going into the garage because that would be weird. No one is around though. And I take off my rubber gloves and shake them over the sink.
The sink where I sometimes wash my hair when I wake up late for school. My dad has a freaking conniption when I walk to school with wet hair, which happens all the time. He’s convinced I’ll get sick every time I do. I mean, anyone who has survived a war, well, you just can’t argue with people like that. They know more than you about survival. And you need to listen. Even when you don’t want to. Just like you have to listen to the kids in the neighborhood about the spooky house in town. And right then, I wish I’d really paid better attention to him and his survival habits.
I hang my apron on the hook by the baker’s rack and take one last, long look around the kitchen. I tip-toe to the garage door, passing by my chair at the kitchen table, passing Dad’s study door where we always hang our Advent calendar, and I reach the coat closet where we keep all our sodas. I put my hand on the doorknob to the garage and give it a silent turn and step out of the house. I flick a light switch on and walk to the green-carpeted st
eps that lead to the attic. I flick another switch to turn on the small light above the steps and walk up. As soon as I place my hand on the attic door, I catch a twisted glimpse of myself in the golden doorknob and I tremble. How I look will matter on Planet Peacock. I’m not wearing any makeup. I’m still wearing my lucky outfit, a day’s worth of stains all over it.
But I don’t go back downstairs to do any additional primping. For one simple reason––because of what Hayden said. I’m about to be a peacock, even though I haven’t worn make-up or had very many friends. Even though we aren’t rich. And I can’t think of one reason why I would be popular at all. So I wonder how the miracle will occur. After all, I’m just a dodo. Nothing special. Like my brothers point out every day.
13 on Halloween (Shadow Series #1) Page 9