by Carol Snow
“Me too.”
“Her dress…”
“Hideosity!”
“Love you oodles!”
“Love you more!”
Bond with family: 25 seconds
“Good-bye, Mummy and Daddy. I’ll be home late.”
“Have fun, sweetie. We’ll make sure your room is clean and your mini fridge is full!”
“You look beautiful, as always,” her little sister, Angel, told her. “When I get older, I want to be just like you!”
“Love you all!” Freesia blew a kiss, and then she was out the door and on her way to class.
2
The Summers family—Freesia, Angel, and their parents—lived on the island of Agalinas, a hidden Pacific paradise somewhere off the coast of California. Northern California or Southern? Freesia didn’t know. Or care. Geography was boring. Not as borrifying as world history or classic literature, but still pretty dull.
Freesia had been on the island for as long as she could remember, and the one time she’d asked her parents if they could visit the mainland, they said, “There’s no reason to go there. It’s nicer here.”
It would be almost impossible to reach the mainland, anyway. Barges brought island residents everything they needed—food, happy juice, clothing, surfboards, building supplies, makeup, and jewels—but there was no passenger ferry or airport.
No matter. Her parents were right. Why would anyone want to leave? The island’s one real town, Avalon, sloped up a lush hillside around a wide, calm harbor filled with pleasure boats, pedal boats, surf runners, and kayaks. The town beach had soft, clean sand. A long green pier had a smoothie bar and a fish-’n’-chip shop. Quaint pastel-colored buildings faced the water from behind the cobblestoned front street. That’s where Freesia and her friends went for clothing stores, coffee shops, taco stops, street festivals, and impromptu concerts.
Beyond the harbor on one side, colorful fish, pink kelp, and spinner dolphins made the warm turquoise cove a snorkeler’s playground. At the harbor’s other side, an enormous white, red-roofed rotunda, cleverly dubbed the Rotunda, jutted into the blue sea like an enormous wedding cake. That’s where Freesia went for movies—a new one every month!—and the Saturday-night dances.
Beyond the Rotunda, the Island Beach Club had pink sand and curtained cabanas. Behind that, under a grove of palm trees, a cluster of bright yellow buildings housed Agalinas Learning World.
It was a long walk from Freesia’s house to the learning center. Some days she drove her pink itty car. Other times, like today, she took the zipline that ran from the end of her street over the harbor, depositing her on a platform between the beach club and the learning center.
When Freesia arrived at class, her cheeks pink from the wind, her Korean language and cultural immersion class teacher, Mr. Lee, waited at the door wearing pressed khakis, a blue button-down shirt, and a floral print tie.
“Ahn-nyong-ha-se-yo,” he greeted her.
“Ahn-nyong-ha-se-yo,” Freesia replied, her accent flawless.
Next, he asked whether she’d like coffee or tea: “Cophe ane myun cha dushil lae yo?”
“Cophe.”
So far, so good. But when Mr. Lee kept on speaking Korean (“Terrasu e’ eum ryo su ga, joon be he su yo”), Freesia’s brain started to hurt.
“English, please.”
“Refreshments are on the patio,” he translated.
“We having barbecue today?”
Mr. Lee shook his head. “Bibimbop. Rice with fried egg, vegetables, and meat. And kimchee too, of course. Did you do your home assignments?”
“No,” Freesia said. “They were too boring. And anyway, I had a party to go to.”
“Good work,” Mr. Lee said.
Jelissa Moon, her red hair brilliant in the dappled sunlight, was on the patio already, trapped in conversation with Chai Cotillion. Freesia helped herself to a cup of sweet, mellow Korean coffee before winding through clusters of students to rescue her friend.
Boys thought Chai was pretty, but to Freesia, she just looked puffy. Puffy lips. Puffy cheeks. Puffy chest. Puffy bottom. Puffy. How was that a good thing? She wore thick black eyeliner and about ten coats of mascara, shiny red lipstick, and a perfume that reeked of night bloomers. Her white-blond hair fell just below her shoulders. The color had to be fake, though to Freesia’s never-ending frustration, she never had roots. Either Chai’s hair grew really slowly or she dyed it weekly.
As for Chai’s hard, whiny voice, no one, male or female, could find it anything but annoying.
“… dress came from Paris and the shoes from Milan,” Chai was saying to poor Jelissa, naming two cities that sounded vaguely familiar from the week Freesia had spent in World Geography last year before transferring into Advanced Eye Makeup. If Chai’s purple leopard-print dress and white platform sandals came from those places, Freesia didn’t need to know anything more about them.
“Freesia!” Chai bared her teeth in something that didn’t even vaguely resemble a smile. “Dare and I were just talking about you earlier.”
“Is he here?” Freesia scanned the patio beyond Jelissa and Chai for Dare Fiesta, number three on her enemy list.
Chai shook her head. “He gave me a ride in his itty car, but I didn’t want Korean coffee. So he said he’d pop back to town and pick me up a wackaccino. He is so sweet. But I guess you know that.”
Everyone knew that Freesia and Dare Fiesta had been linked last year, but everyone but Chai knew better than to bring it up.
“What were you and Dare saying about me?” Freesia asked.
Chai examined her fingernails, which were super long, slightly pointy, and painted purple. “Just, you know. That it must have been hard, first having Dare de-link you, and then Taser.”
Freesia tensed. “Taser did not de-link me. It was mutual.”
Taser had utterly dinked her, but she didn’t really care, and anyway, it was none of Chai’s business. Taser spent all his shells on arcade games and day passes to the island’s interior, where he raced motorbikes and played zap wars. He wasn’t ready to have a girl-link.
“Think I’ll get some coffee before class starts,” Jelissa chirped. “Come with me, Free?”
They practically bolted across the patio, equally enraged by their encounter with Chai.
“Wackaccino,” Freesia muttered.
“She’s a sea slug,” Jelissa said.
“A sea snake.”
“I abhor her.”
“I abhor the bore more.”
Jelissa and Freesia burst out laughing. They’d had this conversation a hundred times before.
Jelissa helped herself to the sweet coffee. “Did you see her at Ricky’s party last night? Acting all fizzy with Cabo?”
“I saw her fizzing with Ricky early in the evening.” Freesia poked Jelissa’s arm, which was the teeniest bit plump, but in a good way. “I thought Cabo only fizzed with you.”
“Hush!” Jelissa, already rosy, turned a deeper pink. “Cabo is an utter Garibaldi, but he and I are just friendlies, at least for now. But we were standing by the waterslide, having an utterly nice, utterly friendly chat, when she”— Jelissa paused to glare at Chai—“bounced over, grabbed his hand, and said, Take me down the waterslide? And off they went.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“The pool slide or the ocean slide?”
“Ocean.”
Freesia shuddered with fury. “Sea serpent.”
“Sea sow.”
Freesia said, “And now she’s got Dare running around after her. Can’t she leave any of the boys alone?” Freesia stole a look at her puffy blond nemesis, who stood alone in the middle of the patio. “Where’s Bitsy today?”
Bitsy Trip was Chai’s best friend. Also her only friend. Bitsy was sweet and quiet, a perfectly okay person except for her odious taste in friends.
“Dunno,” Jelissa said. “I haven’t seen her for a couple of days. Maybe she found a new friend.”
“Or may
be she can’t compete with Dare for Chai’s attention,” Freesia snarled, annoyed at herself for being jealous.
Mr. Lee came around the building and said something in Korean.
“English, please,” several students said at once.
“Would you like to meet inside or outdoors?”
“Inside,” a few students called.
“Outdoors,” chimed some others.
“Good!” Mr. Lee said. “Glad we agree! If you want to go inside, go inside. If you want to stay out here, stay out here.”
Assorted students refilled their coffee and tea mugs and shuffled into the yellow building, followed by Mr. Lee. Freesia and Jelissa claimed a patio table … only to have Chai cross the pink patio stones and—oh, no—point to one of two vacant chairs.
“This seat free, Free?”
Freesia was stunned into silence. If Chai was on her enemy list, she was on Chai’s. They were not supposed to sit together. Finally, she swallowed hard and said, “As far as I know.”
Chai dropped her handbag on the chair nearest Freesia and plopped herself next to Jelissa. She gestured to the handbag-marked chair. “For Dare.”
What? Two enemies at Freesia’s table? This was too, too much.
Jelissa made a desperate stab to rescue her. “What about Bitsy?” she asked Chai. “There isn’t enough room for her at this table, so maybe you should—”
“Bitsy’s gone.”
“From the class?”
Chai waved her hand. “From here. From everywhere. The island. Poof.”
“She never said good-bye,” Freesia said.
“Why should she?” Chai snapped. “Were you friendlies?”
“Where’d she go?” Jelissa asked.
“The mainland. Of course.” Chai rolled her eyes.
Just then, Dare Fiesta, carrying a large cardboard cup, hurried onto the patio, and Freesia forgot all about Bitsy. (Which was too bad, because Bitsy’s disappearance was, of course, yet another sign.)
Dare placed the cup in front of Chai. “Big wackaccino, extra creamy.”
Dare wore khaki shorts, boat shoes, and a rumpled, untucked white oxford shirt, its sleeves rolled up to reveal strong brown forearms. His dark brown hair fell in a perfect wave across his forehead. A fresh sunburn warmed his straight nose and chiseled cheekbones. If only Dare were ugly, Freesia would have gotten over him long ago, but Dare was the biggest Garibaldi around.
Chai picked up her wackaccino. “Oooh, Dare, you’re magical.” She fluttered her goopy eyelashes.
Without meaning to, Freesia let out a teeny tiny retching noise, and Dare finally noticed her.
“Freesia,” Dare said. “Hi.”
“Dare,” Freesia said. “Hi.”
“Awk,” Jelissa said.
“Very.” Dare grinned at Jelissa and then at Freesia, who felt her face go hot. Then he took the seat next to Freesia and—was it possible?—scooted several inches in her direction, away from Chai.
Freesia wished she’d worn the black tube dress and thigh-high boots. And then she hated herself for wishing she’d worn anything that might appeal to Dare. And then she went back to hating Chai, which felt so much better.
Mr. Lee, smiling, came out of the yellow building. “Taehwa!”
Honestly. Would he never learn?
The class shared a communal sigh and chanted, as one, “English, please.”
“Conversation time!” he said. “Pair off and talk to your friend in Korean for the rest of the class. The serfs will serve you bibimbop and kimchee. Enjoy your immersion experience!”
He scurried back into the yellow building.
Freesia was about to catch Jelissa’s eye and bolt for another table when her best friend popped up and turned to Chai. “Let’s pair off.”
“But…” Chai looked at Jelissa. Then at Dare. Then back at Jelissa. She did not look happy.
Jelissa said, “We never got a chance to finish our conversation from earlier. About your … couture? I am utterly eager to hear more about your vicious clothes. And where you bought them. And how much they cost.”
Chai looked stunned. “But—”
“It’s getting hot out here in the sun,” Jelissa continued. “Let’s snag that table in the shade—the one way over there—before someone else takes it.” Jelissa grabbed Chai’s wrist and hauled her across the patio, away from Freesia, away from Dare.
Freesia gnawed on her lip to keep from laughing. Jelissa? Was the best friend anyone could ever have.
Dare grinned at Freesia. “Guess that leaves you and me.”
“Guess it does.”
Dare gazed across the patio. “That was nice of Chai.”
“Huh?”
“To change tables for Jelissa, even though I got the feeling she’d rather sit in the sun.”
Boys? Were doltoids.
Freesia tossed her hair and tried (failed) to sound casual. “I didn’t even know you and Chai were linked. It didn’t show up on my bubble report.”
Dare blinked with surprise. “Chai and me? Oh, no. We’re just friendlies.”
“Really?” She sounded too happy.
“Sounds like you don’t believe me.”
“Of course I believe you.”
Ha! Dare lied as easily as he breathed. At least that’s what Freesia had told herself after he dinked her by saying, “My feelings for you are so strong that they scare me.”
“It’s just nice to have someone to talk to,” Dare said. “Chai’s a really good listener. But it’s not the same as…”
“What?”
“You know.”
“What?”
“Not the same.”
“Not the same as what?”
“You know.”
“No! I don’t know! For Todd’s sake, Dare, just say it!”
Dare’s brown eyes grew soft. Wide. And really cute. “It’s just not the same as you,” he whispered.
Freesia trembled. She had dreamed of re-linking with Dare ever since … well before Chai came into the picture, that’s for sure. But could you re-link in the middle of Korean immersion class? Was that even allowed?
“Will you go out with me tonight?” he asked, almost as if reading her thoughts. “For a walk in the moonlight? Or a meal? Or a black ocean snorkel?”
“Yes!” she said. And then, “No! I mean—I told Ricky … Ricky is having another pool party tonight. And I told him I’d go. Come with me? As my … person who comes with me?”
“I will be your date.”
“That will be excellent.” As thrilled as she was, she squirmed at the thought of walking in with Dare: all the glances and whispers and rumors. What if they didn’t re-link, after all? The giggles would never cease.
“Meet me there,” she told Dare. “At Ricky’s house. Ten o’clock?”
“I’ll be there at nine fifty-nine,” he told her.
3
“If they aren’t linked, why is he getting her coffee and driving her around?” Freesia, climbing into Jelissa’s bright green itty car after class, tried—failed—not to stare at Dare and Chai, two parking spots away.
“Laugh,” Jelissa commanded, pushing the ignition button. The little car sputtered to life.
“What? Why?”
“Just laugh.” Jelissa began backing out. She looked retro-fabu, as always, wearing huge white sunglasses to protect her eyes from the ocean’s glare and a lime green scarf to keep her red hair in place. She wore her bubble on a chain like a pendant.
Like all itty cars, Jelissa’s was open air with a canopy top. Unlike most canopies, hers was patterned with daisies.
“Ha. Ha. Ha ha ha!” Freesia inhaled too hard and coughed on the itty car’s vanilla-scented exhaust.
Jelissa hooted. “That was loopy.” She put the car into gear and chugged away from Agalinas Learning World.
This time, Freesia laughed for real—and somehow managed to resist the urge to turn around for a final look.
“You can’t let them see that you care,” Jel
issa admonished her.
“I don’t care.”
“You don’t fake things very well.”
Freesia sighed. “Well, I don’t want to care, anyway.”
The day had warmed up. Freesia was glad she wasn’t walking, though a pleasant breeze from the sea brought tangy smells of salt and seaweed, while the wind from the itty car—which went fifteen miles per hour at top speed—blew her hair and kept her cool.
In movies, Freesia had seen bigger, faster cars: guzzling glass-and-metal boxes that would explode upon impact. In the movies, there was always some kind of impact: with walls, trees, other cars, or people. Only itty cars were allowed on the island of Agalinas. That was okay with Freesia. In Agalinas, the distances were short, the weather was always lovely, and, really, who’d want to be shut up in a big metal box?
Jelissa parked the itty car in a small lot at the edge of Front Street. No need to lock it: the car only responded to Jelissa’s bubble. Freesia and Jelissa strolled along the cobblestone street. The town beach was on one side, pretty pastel shops on the other. They passed the ice cream parlor, the juice shop, the music center, and the explosives depot before reaching the Dressy Dress Shoppe.
Around Front Street, there were no parents and no children younger than eight. Freesia only saw parents and little kids in her friends’ homes. The only adults she saw in public were teachers, shopkeepers, serfs, and sports instructors. She didn’t find that strange, though. It had always been that way.
Inside the dress shop, two petite girls with matching black bobs and matching black-and-white striped T-shirts straightened circular racks organized by dress color.
“Welcome!” said one.
“Can we help you?” asked the other.
“We’re okay on our own,” Freesia said. She came in this shop at least once a week, sometimes more, but the shop girls never seemed to remember her.
Freesia dug into the pink rack, Jelissa into the green. When they’d hit a few more racks and their arms were full, they trudged to the dressing room at the back of the store. The matching salesgirls pulled back the heavy flowered drapes that separated the cramped store from the huge dressing room.
“You first.” Jelissa dropped her dresses onto one of two overstuffed couches and made her way to the mocktini bar, where she poured a pink drink for Freesia and a green one for herself, topping each with a shiny red cherry and a paper umbrella.