Bailey finished her tea and lowered her glass, almost slamming it against the table. “Let’s go upstairs.”
I nodded as Dad’s words repeated in my head. If only he’d been my real father, I might have inherited some of his confidence.
* * * * *
Despite the night’s heat and Bailey’s nonstop hums and half-finished sentences, I clung to the comforter, carefully tucked in one side of her bed. I touched my lips, still tingling with the heat from Pade’s kiss.
“Are you okay?” Bailey whispered. “Am I keeping you up?”
I wondered if she talked in her sleep every night. Did she even know? Well, I wasn’t the person to drop that bomb. “I’m fine, just can’t sleep.”
Bailey exhaled a rush of air. “We can’t have people thinking you spent all night studying before the first day of school. I’m sorry your house isn’t ready yet. I could sleep on the couch.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“You can tell me.”
No, I couldn’t. “Do you ever miss your father?”
Bailey leaned back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “You mean the snake that sends us presents on birthdays and at Christmas? I guess Mom would probably miss his check if it didn’t come in the mail every month.”
I sighed as a silence fell between us, the kind that signaled a bad storm approaching. Maybe asking about her father had been a horrible idea. About the time I decided she must have fallen back asleep, Bailey gave a muffled cry.
“I haven’t talked to him in over a year. No visits, only one call for Pade; what else can I say? Do I miss him? Yeah, but he’s the one who’s staying away.” She sniffled. “Pade doesn’t want to see our father ever again.” Her voice became a whisper. “I overheard him tell Mom he wasn’t going to Colorado because I didn’t get invited.”
Though my head screamed to end darkness scarier than any threat from the first day of school, seldom did the opportunity to talk about my real family present itself. I might not remember them, but the articles online about my real parents made sure I’d never forget. Words I wished to say overflowed chapters of the book Mom and Dad forced me to conceal. Since reading past page one remained off-limits, my next words were careful. “You’ve got your mom and at least you know who your dad is.”
“I definitely wouldn’t call him dad.” As the meaning of my words sank in, Bailey rolled over to face me. “Sorry, I forgot you’re adopted.”
“How can you forget? Mom and Dad never let anyone forget.”
“Aunt Rainey and Uncle Justin love you, anyone can see that. You can’t tell me you don’t believe…”
I stared above, knowing I should stop but at the same time desperate for someone to hear me, maybe even attempt to understand. Why should it matter now when it didn’t a year, a month, or even a week before? “I know they love me, I’m just not their daughter. If I was really their daughter, if they even thought of me as their daughter, they’d stop reminding everyone I’m adopted.”
“I don’t see how they remind anyone.”
“They always tell people I’m adopted. It’s like ‘hello world, this kid’s not ours.’”
“What should they do, lie?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you ever told them?”
“They should be able to figure it out. You know what, it doesn’t matter.”
The outline of her smile was a razor blade to my heart. “Do you ever think about your real mom and dad?”
Okay, maybe page one and a half. “I try so hard not to. My real mother and father…” I swallowed back tears threatening to drown the words. “They didn’t want me. I’d never call them mom and dad.”
“How can you say that?”
A noise sounded from the hall and Bailey lowered her voice. “How do you know they didn’t want you? Did they tell you? What were they like?”
“I can’t remember…before. Dad told me. He hated to say their names, but he did finally tell me.”
“Mom said Aunt Rainey found you when she lived in Canton—Ohio, right?”
“Right.” What a joke. She knew just like everyone else in Credence would soon hear. Mom had been working in Ohio right before my adoption and even her own sister seemed to believe the lie. Well, not a lie as Dad would say. ‘Merely an embellishment to protect your identity’ was his justification on more than one occasion.
She tapped a finger to her chin. “I can’t believe Uncle Justin actually said your real parents didn’t want you.”
“He didn’t say it just like that, but Dad does give some details when I ask.”
“At least he talks to you. There’s so much I could never tell my father. Oh yeah, maybe if he was here…” She sighed. “As for Mom, there’s lots of drama I could never tell her.”
The humor in Bailey’s voice reached through the moonlight and carried me back from the edgy pain of self-pity. “He met Mom right after she found me.” Even though Dad found me, not Mom, our story stayed the same no matter who asked. “They got married and poof—happily ever after for us all. They’ve always loved me and taken care of me, it’s just that…”
“You want to know where they are.”
“I’d like to know why they didn’t come for me, if they’ve ever bothered to look for me.”
“Do you think about your real parents all the time?”
I rolled over, still feeling a sting from her smile of pity in disguise. “You know what scares me the most? I can’t remember my real mother’s face. I can’t remember being held by my real father or the sound of his voice. Eleven years have gone since we left…Canton.”
“Are you thinking about going back one day?”
“Would yes be selfish? Or just bad?”
“My mom is always saying people are never happy with what they have.”
Yeah, I’d heard it before. “Until they don’t have it anymore. I don’t see how this applies to me since I can’t remember my real parents.”
Footsteps drifted down the hall and we both went silent.
“Girls,” Mom said, as she carefully opened the door. “Was that you I heard?”
Even with my eyes closed, I knew she watched in silence, probably hoping for movement though neither of us flinched. Eventually Mom turned, her steps fading back into the night.
Chase
“Jessica Ray,” Dad called from the stairs. “It’s six-fifteen and Mom will be leaving in thirty minutes.”
There was the smell again—carpet cleaner maybe or a gallon of Febreze. Mom had always been a freak about eating off the floor in the kitchen, but Aunt Charlie was like that about every room in her house. I climbed from the bed, praying our new house might be ready before the weekend.
When I walked into the kitchen, Bailey was at the bar, finishing a glass of orange juice. She frowned at my tangled hair and wrinkled T-shirt. “You’d better hurry and get dressed.”
Mom handed me a plate. “Not before we get some food in you.”
Aunt Charlie trudged through the door, eyes fixed on the coffee pot. “I’m glad I made it home in time.” Cup in hand, she hugged Bailey and then put an arm around my neck. “You girls enjoy your first day. If only I was fifteen again.”
“Sure,” Dad said, face behind a newspaper. “Then I’d feel sorry for all the boys at Credence High.”
As Aunt Charlie laughed, Mom shook her head. “Charlie was quite a heartbreaker in school. She stole a couple of boyfriends from me once upon a time.”
“Thanks, Charlie,” Dad said. “I owe you one.”
Aunt Charlie shrugged. “Most often life works out in ways we never envision. Look at me now, a woman of leisure. I’m free to spend the rest of today cleaning my filthy house.”
Dad lowered the paper. “I’m sure the only house on this block cleaner than yours is empty next door. How you can rule the world of obsessive and still work as a nurse is a topic I’d never take on for a lecture.” He stood to kiss Mom on the cheek, stopping by my side for a hug. “Don’t forget
your sunscreen.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do I ever?”
He smiled. “Skin cancer is nothing to play around with. Watch out for the sun today.”
“Dad, we’re in Alabama. Ignoring the sun is like you telling me to put on sunscreen every morning. It’s weird.”
“Wear the sunscreen and we’ll have nothing to worry about.”
“We’ve already lived in half the states. Why not try somewhere like Washington, where it rains all the time?”
“The sun glares at us, even on a cloudy day.” He glanced at Mom and Aunt Charlie, both laughing as they talked, and lowered his voice. “Lorraine’s only family lives in Credence. Let’s make sure we stay as long as possible.”
I considered asking if he had planned this move, but simply nodded as he walked away, forcing the scrambled eggs down my throat. Aunt Charlie still rambled about ‘those idiots’ at the hospital when I reached the stairs. After changing shirts four times, jeans three times, and shoes twice, basically everything I had, and plastering on my daily ration of white sludge, I finally felt good about the girl in the mirror, at least good enough to climb into the van.
Danny stretched across the backseat, crowding Collin. “Can’t we go any faster?”
I settled into the middle, next to Bailey. “We’re not moving yet, stupid.”
Collin gasped. “Mom, Jes used the s-word.”
Mom’s tone was even as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “One with more than four letters, I hope.” She cranked the van and turned up the radio. Elvis again.
“Are we in 1970 or what?” Bailey asked as she pulled out her eyeliner. “This music has to be at least that old. I bet your mom wasn’t even born then.”
“As if that would make a difference,” I said, laughing.
With only twenty minutes before first bell, Bailey spotted Angel and Rachelle by the band room and I almost ran to keep up. Only Angel played, she told me, but several ‘non-banders’ hung out there in the morning. Outside two doors painted with black notes on a white ribbon and around a corner, was a place she called The Spot. From our vantage point, higher than most of the courtyard, we could watch almost everyone along the crisscross of sidewalks.
Angel stood as we approached. “Jes, you really tore out of my house quick yesterday. How was that kiss?”
“What kiss?” a voice asked from behind us, and I turned in time to see the girl’s eyes roll. “Who are you and who on earth would want to kiss you?”
My first instinct was to laugh at the checkered tie around her neck, but Bailey spun around, glaring. “Tosh, this isn’t your spot to be.”
Tosh smiled and moved close enough to block Bailey’s path. “If I wanted it to be, I could build a house and live here.”
I’d known people like this at every other school and Bailey was not fighting for me on the first day of class. “I’m Jes Delaney,” I said, extending a hand. “Bailey’s cousin from Atlanta.”
Tosh stared at my hand while shifting closer to loom over Bailey.
“It’s not your business,” Bailey said, “but Pade kissed her at Angel’s party.”
“Kissed your cousin?” Tosh snickered. “Isn’t that creepy or illegal?”
“No, Jes is adopted. But that’s not the point.”
Tosh glued her hands to her hips, bottom lip puckering out. As her eyes narrowed, tiny freckles were lost in the crease of her nose, freckles that exactly matched the Raggedy Ann hair jutting from both sides of her face in pigtails. “He must have felt sorry for her.”
Bailey opened her mouth but stopped as I grabbed her arm. She hadn’t noticed Pade and Terrance weaving through the crowded sidewalk in our direction.
Pade smiled, which immediately drew Tosh to his side. “You’re looking nice today.”
She lifted a foot, bracing it against the wall in an effort to tie her shoe, and the pleated skirt rose higher. “I’m glad you noticed.”
Terrance stared, cocking his head in amazement before he turned to Angel, barely covering a laugh. “I heard you and Bailey got stuck with the new English teacher.”
Angel shook her head. “Mrs. Pearson. She’s taking Mr. Hancock’s place since he moved over the summer.”
Pade turned to Angel, as if Tosh had disappeared. “Mr. Hancock never cared if I had to miss class as long as it was school related. Glad he didn’t quit last year, since I can make just about anything school related.”
There was that smile again. Did Pade have to be charming to every girl at Credence High?
Tosh lowered her foot and moved closer to Pade. “I heard she’ll make everyone in her classes write five term papers.”
When Terrance spotted more of the football team and motioned to Pade, Tosh turned to me. “Don’t think for one second he’s got any interest in scrubby tenth graders. You’re the lowest of the low.”
“Tosh,” Pade said, and she brightened. “Want to walk with us down to the drink machines? I’ll buy you a coke.”
She tossed her hair and winked at me before following Pade onto the sidewalk. “Maybe next time, Delaney.”
Anger flared in Bailey’s voice. “I hate that bitch. She thinks she’s got the whole school taking second place to sexy. My brother can’t possibly like her.”
“Of course he likes her,” Angel said. “All guys like her. Only Tosh could get away with wearing a skirt and tie.”
Several guys stopped along the sidewalk to observe her confident walk, smiling as Tosh passed. Life seemed so unfair and yet so typical. This girl lived for any opportunity to make fun of the ‘outs’ like me while the ‘ins’ loved her, guys especially. I wished for a way to hurt her, to make her feel the same fear and know the anger gnawing like a hamster deep in my heart.
Bailey waved a hand in front of my face. “Hey, don’t look so evil.”
“Evil implies I have the power to make Tosh trip in front of everyone waiting for class.”
She frowned and pulled a lime green page from her backpack. “Don’t make that face. Hurting people doesn’t suit you.”
“Time to find a schedule,” I said as a bell rang out over the courtyard. “You know, make this real.” While Bailey walked to class, I almost ran to the office before squeezing through the crowd and finding a small space to stand. From one foot to the other I shifted, doing a kind of dance in line, but no position felt comfortable. The clock ticked and then ticked a little more, seeming almost to run out of steam a few times. I covered my face, imagining eyes staring, all the faces in my first class, if I made it to first class.
“Jessica Delaney,” I said as I finally reached the counter. “This is my first day and I need a schedule.”
The woman tapped her keyboard without looking up. A man in a gray suit leaned across the counter. “Delaney? You must be Rainey’s daughter.”
I stared, trying to figure out why his dimpled face seemed so familiar.
“Of course,” he said, grinning. “You’ve got the same pretty brown eyes and hair. Lorraine and I attended this very school, more years ago than I like to admit.”
“We’re not finished,” said a boy to his side.
The man straightened. “We’re about as finished as one of those meetings I’ve got to…” He turned back to me. “I’m Dr. Greene, by the way.”
I laughed, realizing his face was simply an older version of Skip. “Nice to meet you.”
Dr. Greene pulled a page from the printer. “Your first class is Mrs. Pearson. This should be interesting,” he said and handed me the paper. “Chase here can help you find the way.”
Behind thick glasses sat two of the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, rivaled only by the ones looking back from my mirror at night. I fought a secret battle with my own mouth after realizing he might never know.
Dr. Greene shuffled into a nearby office, leaving Chase to argue as the door slammed in his face.
“Move along, dear,” said the woman behind the counter, still without looking up.
“Where’s your first class?” I asked as
Chase shook his fist at the door.
“Just follow me,” he said, pushing through the crowd. “Try to keep up.”
I almost ran as we crossed the courtyard and passed three long brick buildings with empty halls. “Is there a second bell around here?” Avoiding tardies this year might really be impossible.
“First class number equals building,” he said as we stepped through the doors of building five. “The office and cafeteria was building one.”
“Mrs. Pearson’s new this year and I heard she’ll be tough.”
“Sounds like this year will be interesting.” He laughed as if I’d spoken Chinese, but his blue eyes took on a shine, forcing me to scrap the weird feeling and label him a nice guy.
We entered the class, barely in time to hear my name.
“Jessica Delaney?”
“Here,” I said while heading for a seat in the back. Chase followed and eased into the empty seat next to mine.
A clipboard holding the list of names lowered. “I assume you will be in that seat on time tomorrow, Miss Delaney.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good. Skip Greene.”
When the embarrassment of being late finally passed, I glanced around the room. Posters covered all four walls, one side only black and white, while the others glowed with a rainbow of costumes spread across the stage of a theater. Bailey and Angel sat straight ahead, side-by-side on the front row. Ahead to the left, Skip stared out the window, maybe imagining himself on the other side. The rest of the names were new until ‘Chase Pearson’.
“You are here, of course.”
Mrs. Pearson stood before her desk, not bothering to look up as she marked his name off the list. Every inch of her long-sleeved suit hung perfectly smoothed, down to the skirt that landed at her knees. In grape-colored heels that exactly matched her suit, she seemed to loom over the class. Her hair, a mixture of honey and gold much darker than Chase’s jar of snowflakes, was pulled back to a bun behind her head. Thick glasses covered her eyes, but I imagined they were a blue as deep as the guy sitting next to me. Remembering my comment about her being tough, ‘he must think I’m such an idiot’ flowed through my head at lightning speed. Bailey turned and mouthed “he’s cute.”
Leftover Girl Page 3