Impossible Things

by Robin Stevenson

  Victoria’s house couldn’t have been more different. The table was set with salad bowls and plates and cloth napkins, not to mention a bewildering variety of forks and spoons at each place. I sat down and hoped I wouldn’t embarrass myself too badly.

  Victoria’s mother dished the salad and filled our glasses with water. Then she turned to me. “So, Cassidy,” she said, “tell us a bit about yourself.”

  I squirmed. “Not much to tell,” I said. I glanced around the room, hoping for inspiration, and my gaze fell on a pair of portrait-style photographs sitting on the sideboard. One was a toddler, a little girl with brown hair and a slightly anxious gummy smile. Victoria. The other was a boy around our age, with freckles and a wide grin. Rick, maybe?

  “Uh, so how do you like it here?” I asked.

  “Well, it seems very nice. I’ve been pretty busy. I’m taking some classes at the college.” She smiled at me. “Computers, you know? I need to bring my skills up to date. It all changes so fast.”

  I nodded. Grownups always complained about that. “Who are the pictures of?” I asked, nodding toward the photographs.

  Victoria looked at me; then she looked down at her plate.

  Her dad shoveled a forkful of lettuce into his mouth and chewed silently. Her mom smiled again, but a little stiffly. “That’s Victoria, back when she was two. Cute, huh? And the other picture, the boy, that’s my stepson, Rick.”

  I couldn’t tell if there really was a sudden chill or if it was just my imagination.

  “Well,” Victoria’s mom said brightly, “I hope you like tofu and spinach casserole? It’s one of Victoria’s favorite meals.” She dished a pile of steaming green slop onto my plate. “Victoria tells me that your mother is an artist. That’s very interesting.”

  I nodded. People always said it was interesting when they totally couldn’t relate.

  “I was thinking about taking an art class,” she mused.

  Victoria’s dad raised his eyebrows. “And when exactly would you fit that in?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe if you actually cooked a meal or helped clean up the house occasionally, I’d have time to do something that actually interested me.”

  He didn’t respond. We all ate in silence for a few minutes. I stared down at my plate. I wasn’t crazy about vegetables, especially green ones. The food felt like grass in my mouth. Hot chewy grass. I forced down a few mouthfuls.

  After a while, Victoria’s parents started talking to each other in strained polite voices about her dad’s day at work, and whether the car needed an oil change, and how much longer winter was going to drag on for. Victoria and I kept catching each other’s eyes, and for some weird reason I had an awful urge to start giggling. It was a relief when dinner was over and we could finally retreat to her room.

  Victoria wanted me to keep practicing telekinesis, but I couldn’t forget my earlier doubts. All those questions were still tumbling around in my head like clothes in a dryer. I kept staring at the feather and wondering if this whole thing was real or not. I wanted it to be real more than anything. It was my one chance to escape being so ordinary.

  After several more attempts, the little white feather still lay stubborn and unmoving. I couldn’t concentrate. I hadn’t felt that surge of energy again either. I gave an exaggerated groan. “I am never going to get this! Isn’t there something else I can try?”

  Victoria shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to teach anyone this stuff before. And I never had to learn it. It just happened.”

  “I really thought I felt something, before dinner,” I said. “I guess I just imagined it.”

  “Maybe you should go back to practicing that exercise. You know, see if you can get that feeling again and then try to capture that energy.”

  “Mmmm.” I stared at the feather, blinking back tears.

  She looked at me helplessly. “I’m sorry. I know you really want to do this. Maybe it’s not something that can be taught.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. Downstairs, I could hear Victoria’s parents cleaning up the kitchen and washing the dishes. I thought of my own chaotic house. I’d rather have that chaos—the take-out pizzas, my mom distracted and busy, my dad off in the Middle East—than the tension and silence in Victoria’s show-home.

  “Don’t give up,” Victoria said suddenly. “Please don’t give up. I’ve never known anyone else who could do this stuff, you know? I’d love to not be the only one.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll keep trying.” I studied her face and wondered if I was making a complete fool of myself. I still had absolutely no idea if she was lying to me.

  Thirteen

  Back when we had Mr. McMaran, English classes had been deadly boring. All we ever did was take turns reading aloud from the textbook. It was different with Ms. Allyson. She never said so, but I was pretty sure she didn’t think much of textbooks. We had just skimmed three chapters in five minutes and now she wanted us to do something she described as warm-up exercises. I had visions of the whole class doing jumping jacks and wondered what exactly she had in mind.

  “All right,” said Ms. Allyson, “get into groups of three. Quick, quick!” She was perched on a stool, swinging one foot back and forth, wearing red leather cowboy boots which almost matched her hair.

  Ms. Allyson sure liked to make us work in groups. I glanced across the aisle at Victoria, who quickly scooted her chair over to join me. We needed a third. For some stupid reason, I found myself looking over to where Chiaki sat. She had already joined Amber and Madeline. Maybe Joe? Then Felicia turned around to look at us. She hesitated; then she got up and walked back to where we sat.

  “Do you think I could work with you two?” she asked in a low voice.

  I hesitated for a second. Hanging out with Felicia was only going to make Amber despise me more. Then I felt a flush of shame for even thinking that way. I pushed the thought aside and smiled at Felicia. “Sure,” I said. Then I laughed. “All those tormented by the Amber-Madeline alliance are welcome here. We’re going to form our own alliance and take over.”

  Felicia looked slightly alarmed. “Take over?”

  “She’s just kidding around,” Victoria told her. She gave me a stern look. “Don’t scare off the new recruits.”

  “Recruits?” Felicia’s voice rose an octave.

  I laughed. “Sorry. It’s just that we’ve been talking about how annoying it is, the way Amber and Madeline give certain people—like me—a hard time.”

  “And me.” Felicia’s forehead was still creased, but a smile was playing at the corners of her mouth.

  “Especially you,” I conceded. “You are probably number one on their list of people to be nasty to.”

  She gave me a long look. “Not so much, since you and Nathan stood up for me that day. You know, the debate thing?”

  “Really? Huh.” I was surprised. I’d figured sticking up for Felicia might annoy Amber, but I hadn’t really expected it to make her back off. I hadn’t expected it to make Felicia want to hang out with me either.

  “Power in numbers,” Victoria said. “We outsiders have to stick together.”

  Ms. Allyson cleared her throat behind us. “Um, have you three finished plotting?”

  I blushed. Plotting? Had she been listening to us?

  “Here’s the first exercise,” she said. She smiled and handed me a small piece of paper.

  I read it out loud. “You are going to write a short poem together. On one piece of paper, you will each write one word in turn. Go fast and don’t criticize each other’s words. Nonsense is fine. Just keep passing the paper around and take turns adding a word.”

  Felicia giggled. “This is cool.”

  It sounded kind of silly, but I was okay with that. “You start,” I said.

  Felicia bent over our paper, giggling. “Outside,” she said, writing fast.

  I took the paper from her and tried to think of a good word.

  “Write fast,” Victoria reminded me.

 
I shrugged. “Is.”

  “Not,” said Victoria. She slid the paper back to Felicia.

  Felicia laughed. “Is? Not? Come on guys, don’t make me do all the work.” She chewed on her thumbnail for a moment. “So bad.”

  “Hey, I thought you were only allowed one word,” I said.

  “You are,” Victoria said. “But leave it. I like it.”

  I laughed. “You’re such rebels.”

  “Uh-huh,” Felicia said. “Your turn. One word for you.”

  By the time Ms. Allyson told us to stop writing, all three of us were laughing hysterically.

  “Shall we read them out loud?” she suggested.

  Victoria shook her head at me frantically. “We can’t,” she whispered.

  I looked at Felicia and raised my eyebrows. “Well?”

  “Do it,” she said.

  I turned to Victoria. “Let’s do it. Why not?”

  She bit her lip. “Okay. Do it.”

  Ms. Allyson looked around the room. “Any volunteers to go first?”

  Amber was bouncing off her seat, waving one hand in the air.

  “Amber?”

  “Okay.” She cleared her throat. “A turtle ate my breakfast and followed me to school. The teacher said, that’s against the rule. So the turtle jumped into a swimming pool.”

  Ms. Allyson laughed. “Great. It’s fun, isn’t it? Who’s next?”

  I raised my hand.

  “Cassidy. Go ahead.”

  I dropped my eyes to the paper and read aloud. “Outside is not so bad. Things can be seen more clearly from the outside. On the outside, there is more room to move around.”

  There was a hush in the classroom for a moment. I looked around. Chiaki turned to look at me; then she quickly ducked her head so I couldn’t see her expression.

  “Nice work,” Ms. Allyson said finally. “Very nice.”

  I sat down, blushing. We’d just been kidding around, but reading our poem out loud had actually given me goose bumps. I meant every word of it. I hadn’t realized it before, at least not so clearly: I didn’t mind being on the outside. I just wanted some other outsiders to be there with me.

  After school, Victoria and I talked in the schoolyard while I waited for Ben. A light snow was falling. I lifted my face and stuck out my tongue to catch a snowflake. The sun shone in my eyes, and I felt like laughing out loud for no reason at all.

  “I’m so glad Felicia joined our group today,” Victoria said.

  I nodded thoughtfully. I could put on a good show of not caring what others thought, but Victoria, in her quiet way, didn’t seem to care at all. I grinned at her. “Me too. I don’t give a hoot what Amber Patterson thinks.” I raised one eyebrow. “Speak of the devil. Look who’s coming our way.”

  Amber, Madeline and Chiaki were sauntering arm in arm. As usual, Amber spoke for them all. “So, you two are hanging out with Fat Felicia now, huh? That’s pretty sad.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “No, Amber. What’s sad is the way you cling to this stupid idea that you are better than anyone else.”

  “So who died and appointed you god?” Amber snapped.

  “No one died. I’ve always held that position. And it’s goddess, if you don’t mind.”

  Victoria giggled.

  “You two are so weird. And Cassidy, that hat is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.” She made a face. “Yuck, here comes your fat little friend.” She pointed at Felicia, walking down the school steps toward us. “Come on, Madeline, Chiaki—let’s go. I smell something bad coming this way.” She wrinkled her nose, grabbed her friends’ arms and marched off.

  I scowled, wishing I’d been able to think of something sharp and funny to say—I hated to let her have the last word. I was staring after them when Chiaki suddenly twisted around and mouthed a silent “Sorry” over her shoulder.

  Amber yanked on her arm. “Come on, Chiaki. I said, let’s go.”

  My old thumbuddy. I wondered why she let Amber boss her around and remembered her turning to look at me when I read our poem. Maybe the outside was starting to look good to her.

  “I like your hat,” Victoria said.

  “Mmm. Me too.” It was one of my favorites: a floppy black one woven with sparkly threads. I adjusted it on my head and grinned at Felicia, who was approaching us shyly. “Hi,” I said. “You just missed a friendly visit from the Demonic Duo and their sad sidekick.”

  “Chiaki?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged, wishing I felt as unconcerned as I sounded.

  “You guys used to be friends?” Felicia asked.

  I didn’t want to talk about it. “Uh-huh. I guess she decided she could do better.”

  There was an awkward moment of silence. Then Victoria grinned at me. “She was wrong.”

  I nodded, gritting my teeth together hard. “Thanks.” Time to change the subject. “Hey, do you two want to go tobogganing sometime soon? This weekend, maybe?”

  “Yeah, that’d be cool,” Victoria said.

  “I’m in too,” Felicia agreed, smiling.

  I pictured the tobogganing hills outside town. The snow would be perfect after all this cold weather. “I bet I could talk my mom into driving us,” I said. She didn’t usually volunteer on the weekend, and she couldn’t paint all the time. I imagined the three of us piling into the back of our old car. Newsflash: Cassidy Silver has friends. Who would have guessed that it was possible?

  I had to admit it. It felt good. Really good.

  “Hey, Cassie.” Ben’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “Hey, Ben.” My heart sank. How was I supposed to have friends if I always had to walk my brother home? “How about you go on ahead and I’ll catch up?”

  Ben hesitated; then he gave a small nod.

  “You sure you’re okay with that?” I asked, trying not to sound impatient.

  “I’m not a baby, Cassidy. I’ll be fine.” Ben adjusted his backpack over his shoulder and set off. Relieved, I turned back to the others.

  “Yeah, Ms. Allyson is great,” Felicia was saying to Victoria. “Remember Mr. McMaran? I’m so glad he’s gone.”

  “Yeah, I just started here right before he left, but he seemed pretty awful,” Victoria said, straight-faced.

  I wondered how Victoria managed to keep her secret. If it was me, I’d be dying to tell Felicia—to tell everyone, actually—that I was the one who got rid of Mr. McMaran. She’d be the school hero. If, of course, anyone believed her. I studied her face and wished I knew for sure. With every day that passed, the more impossible it all seemed.

  I guess I sort of lost track of time while we talked, because when I finally glanced at my watch, it was close to four o’clock. “Oh, wow, look at the time! How did that happen? I’ve got to run, I told Ben I’d catch up with him.” I took off, sprinting out of the schoolyard and down the sidewalk, my feet slipping a little on the icy surface. A man with a shaved head crossed the street in front of me and my heart skipped a beat. Then he turned his head toward me, and I could see it wasn’t Rick. It left me feeling unsettled all the same. Maybe Victoria should have told her parents that Rick was hanging around the school. Still, it was her decision, not mine.

  Anyway, I had bigger problems right now. It was Thursday, which meant Mom would be at home, painting. And I couldn’t see Ben anywhere.

  Fourteen

  By the time I got in the front door, I was breathing hard and sweating under my winter coat. I untied my boots and pulled them off, scattering wet clumps of snow across the tiled floor of the front hall.

  “Cassidy?” Mom called from the kitchen. Her voice was all tight, the way it gets when she’s angry.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I was just…” I walked into the kitchen and stopped dead. Ben was sitting on Mom’s lap, his face against her shoulder and his skinny shoulders shaking with sobs. When he heard my voice, he lifted his head and looked at me for a second; then he turned away, avoiding my eyes. The left side of his face was red and raw-looking and blood was smeared on his lip and chin.r />
  My heart thudded painfully in my chest. “What happened?” I blurted. “Tyler Patterson! Did he hit you?”

  Mom looked at me like I was a stranger. “Go to your room, Cassidy. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom!”

  “Ben’s the one you should be saying sorry to,” she said. “Go to your room. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I backed slowly out of the room, ran up the stairs and threw myself onto my bed. It wasn’t fair. Tyler Patterson. Amber’s brother. He was the one Mom should be angry with, not me. Okay, I was supposed to walk Ben home, but why was it always my job to take care of Ben? Why couldn’t Mom meet him after school herself? If she wasn’t always so busy, maybe she’d have known Ben was being bullied and done something about it by now. Then this would never have happened.

  I pictured Ben’s face and started to cry. I pushed my face into my pillow and sobbed until I was all out of tears, dizzy and aching and empty.

  Eventually Mom called me downstairs. I didn’t want to go. I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the hats and scarves hanging on my wall. Mom didn’t understand anything. She didn’t even know that the last year of school had been torture, or that things had just started to look more hopeful. She didn’t have time to hear about my life at all. And now she was furious with me for letting Ben down.

  I dragged myself downstairs, my stomach in knots. Ben was curled up on the family room couch with a soft quilt and a mug of hot chocolate. He was sucking his thumb. I hadn’t seen him do that for a really long time, and my anger instantly faded. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  Ben pulled his thumb out of his mouth and quickly shoved his hand under the quilt. “It’s okay, Cassie. I told Mom it wasn’t your fault.” He gave me a tiny smile. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

  “I deserve it. I shouldn’t have let you go ahead.” I swallowed hard, remembering what he’d said before about getting picked on because I was his sister. “I only wanted to talk to my friends for a few minutes,” I told him. “I never thought anything would happen to you.”