by Laura Burns
“I used to love finding great vintage stuff.” Karina checked her cell as she spoke. “There was this great place, the Super Thrift Store in North Hollywood, that I’d go to. My mom hated when I’d come home with anything. She was afraid the clothes would have bedbugs.”
“The jacket has a stain on the sleeve,” Sarah told Izzy.
“What you mean is that it’s distressed.” Karina plopped down next to Sarah. “Make her give you two sweaters. Boston thinks she’ll look like a badass in it.”
“Let me try it on at least,” Izzy said. “And for the record, I am a badass, in whatever I happen to be wearing.”
“Fine.” Sarah gestured toward the closet, keeping her expression neutral. Izzy opened it. A lot more hangers than clothes.
Izzy slipped on the jacket and buttoned it. It was big on her. On Sarah too. It was a men’s, sort of in the style of a blazer. Izzy didn’t look like a thug in it. It actually looked great on her. Not quite as loose as on Sarah because of the boobs, and the black leather made her hair look even blonder.
Karina pointed at her. “Yes to the dress!”
“I don’t always listen to Karina, because, really, who can with her output, but I do listen to her on fashion. So, trade?” Izzy asked.
“Trade,” Sarah agreed. Maybe it was pity, Izzy being charitable. But maybe she actually wanted the jacket. Even if she was trying to give Sarah something nice, that didn’t have to mean she was patronizing her. Being cautious, questioning motives, that had been part of surviving in the old world, but not here.
Izzy tossed her the sweater. It was so soft in her hands that it made her want to press it against her cheek. She shrugged off the urge, pulling it on. $625. $625. $625! Nothing was that soft or pretty. She shot a glance at herself in the long mirror. The sweater did something to the plain navy tee and khakis. It made them into an “outfit.”
“Yes to the dress,” Karina said again, smiling at Sarah. “Now let’s go. I’m starving.” She put on her own jacket. It looked a little military, with double rows of buttons running from the waist up and epaulets on the shoulders. Sarah might not know what to call the room downstairs, but epaulets she knew.
“Do you have your cell?” Karina asked.
“In my pocket. Do I need it for something?” Sarah asked. It wasn’t like anyone had the number. She realized she didn’t even know it. She’d have to get it off the phone later.
“You need it for everything,” Izzy said. “Just like your smartphone.”
Yeah, right. Just like that thing she’d never had. They’d seen her clothes and shoes and even her ratty underwear, but they still didn’t get it. The fact that there existed people who couldn’t afford phones had probably never occurred to either one of them. The unfairness of that sent a rush of anger through her, and she had to struggle to let it go. Maybe it would get easier.
Izzy led the way down to the first floor. She’s the alpha dog, Sarah decided. Izzy was quieter, but Karina seemed eager for people to like her and Izzy didn’t seem like she cared, which gave her the upper hand. Not that she was mean or anything. She’d been completely cool and friendly to Sarah, and she and Karina seemed to get along really well. But, yeah, Izzy was alpha, and Sarah wouldn’t try to change that. It was always safest to let the power stay where it was.
They were right about it getting cold at night. When they stepped outside, Sarah was really glad she was wearing the sweater. In Ohio, September was one of the hottest months, but not here. She was also glad the path that led across the huge back lawn had small lights running along either side. Because it was dark, even with the lights emanating from the school. No streetlights out here. No cars driving by with headlights shining. The stars were brighter though, piercingly bright.
“Tonight there’s hot caramel custard soup as one of the desserts. I know soup dessert sounds gross, but it is sooo good. You have to try it,” Karina said.
“You realize you’re treating Sarah like either she’s five or she’s a puppy. I’m still trying to decide which,” Izzy teased.
“I’m sorry!” Karina immediately said. “I wasn’t trying to be all controlling or whatever. It’s just you’re new, so you don’t know about the dessert or how cold it gets or any of that.”
“It’s all good,” Sarah reassured her, and realized she meant it. “You’ve both been great. Fixing up my part of the room and taking me with you tonight, and the banner. Everything.”
“Awwww. You’re welcome.” Karina beamed.
“Everyone’s going to want to hang with you,” Izzy replied. “You have to understand how incredibly sick we are of each other, at least some of the time.”
“Other new kids started at the beginning of the semester, didn’t they?”
“Well, yeah. But mostly first years, so that doesn’t count,” Izzy said.
“Especially first-year boys,” Karina chimed in. “Most of them are shorter than me. And that’s short. And anyway, the difference between a fourteen-year-old and a seventeen-year-old, even not counting that girls are so much more mature, is ridiculous. I should think of who to introduce you to. I think Brian and Emma just split and—” She stopped midsentence. “I’m doing it again. I’m going to stop.” She grinned at Sarah. “Unless you want my help finding a guy.”
“Maybe later,” Sarah answered. A guy was the last thing she needed to add to the mix. She was on sensory overload already.
“Karina can’t believe anyone would want to be single for even a day,” Izzy said.
“Why be single when you can be in love?” Karina countered. “Ethan makes everything better. Bad things aren’t as bad, and good things are awesome.”
“What kind of insane drugs does Ethan impart?” Izzy asked.
“Our roommate here doesn’t like my boyfriend. But that’s because she refuses to get to know him,” Karina told Sarah.
“I know enough,” Izzy shot back.
It was the first time an exchange between them had any kind of edge. Sarah wondered if there was history there, something that had happened between Izzy and the boyfriend. Had he hit on her or something? Or could Izzy have some kind of secret crush on him she was overcompensating for?
“We’re here,” Karina said, as they reached the door of a building at the edge of the woods; it looked like mostly pine trees from here. The dining hall was built out of logs, appearing almost like it had grown naturally from the ground.
Sarah thought she’d seen enough to stop expecting the school to be anything like what she’d seen in Ohio. Still, she’d thought a cafeteria was a cafeteria. Long tables. Fluorescent lights. Kind of a faint sour smell, and a stronger disinfectant smell.
Not here. It was like a restaurant with cozy booths and small tables, and low lighting. It smelled like pine needles and polished wood and good food. The center of the room was dominated by a fire pit on a circle of the same rocks that made up the jetty. A copper hood caught the light of the flames.
“Maya and Taylor are already here,” Karina announced, waving. “I asked a couple of friends to eat with us, so you could meet some people,” she added to Sarah. “Do I need to apologize again?” she asked Izzy, speaking all in a rush the way she always did.
Izzy laughed. “You’re being Karina. You shouldn’t have to apologize for that.”
“Good. Guilt makes my stomach hurt, and I’m hungry.”
They wove around the tables heading toward a long buffet. Sarah was conscious of a lot of curious glances, some more obvious than others. She was tempted to throw her arms wide, spin in a circle, and tell them to get all their looking over with at once. But she didn’t. Obviously. First day, make that first weeks, you laid low, took in everything you could, tried to figure out how things worked, and didn’t call attention to yourself—at all.
She picked up a china plate from one end of the buffet table and studied the array of food. Not the pasta, she decided. She loved shrimp and hardly ever got to have it, but pasta was messy. She wasn’t going to end up in front of a bu
nch of strangers with a noodle sliding down her chin. She went with the meatloaf instead.
“They serve drinks at the table,” Karina said when they reached the end of the buffet. “And the desserts will be out in about half an hour.”
Sarah got what felt like her hundredth introduction when they sat down at the big circular booth in the corner. Taylor—white, sandy brown hair in a smooth ponytail, the kind of makeup that looked like no makeup, just natural flawless skin—was a junior too. She’d also chosen the meatloaf, and was eating it with chopsticks. Was that a thing? Was Sarah supposed to be doing that? She did a quick table check, but she and Taylor were the only ones eating it, so she couldn’t be sure.
“What’s with that?” Izzy asked, nodding toward the chopsticks. Okay, so it wasn’t a thing.
“I heard if you eat with chopsticks, you’ll naturally lose weight. It’s because you eat smaller bites, so you eat slower and that gets your digestive juices flowing,” Taylor explained. “I’m definitely eating more slowly.”
“I’m sure your roommates will appreciate you switching over from the scarf and barf method,” Izzy commented, raising an eyebrow. She took a big forkful of her pasta and didn’t drop any on her chin.
“So, Sarah, you met with the dean, right? Did you figure out your class schedule?” Maya asked, shooting Izzy a disapproving look. It didn’t seem to have any effect on Izzy. Sarah wondered what it would feel like to be that kind of girl. She didn’t want to care about being approved of, but it made life workable. Survivable.
“We figured out a tentative one,” Sarah answered. “But she said I could make changes if I needed to, once I got a feel for the classes.” The dean had set up another meeting with Sarah after her first week to talk about if her classes were what she’d called “challenging and stimulating enough.” At her old schools, the only time Sarah had talked to a principal was if she was in trouble.
“What are they? Maybe we have some with you,” Maya said.
Sarah started listing the classes she’d be taking. “Ethan’s in that one!” Karina exclaimed when she got to Advanced Chemistry. “Want me to have him send you his notes?”
“Sure. That would be great, especially since everyone’s already weeks ahead of me.”
Karina pulled out her cell. “Text Ethan,” she told it, then left a message about the notes.
“I can give you my American Renaissance Lit notes,” Maya volunteered.
“Thanks,” Sarah said. Was this more of Maya’s student government welcome? Or were people really just that nice here? Izzy was the only one who had shown even a little edge.
“On it.” Maya pulled her own cell out of her purse. “Send Sarah all American Renaissance notes,” she instructed it. “The cells are connected to our laptops,” she told Sarah.
“Sarah Perlberg or Sarah Merson?” a smooth female electronic voice asked.
“Merson,” Maya told it. “They’ll be there pretty much now,” she told Sarah.
“It can do that?” Sarah asked.
“The cells can do everything. I’m in that class too,” Taylor said, “but my notes suck. I should make Maya send me hers too. She copies down practically every word.”
“Ms. Coté pulls most of the exam questions out of her lectures,” Maya replied. “And not everything she talks about is in the textbook.” As she continued to explain the value of her detailed notes, Sarah noticed a guy—white, tall, lanky, dark hair, couldn’t tell about the eyes yet—approaching them. He fisted his hand in Karina’s long hair. She tilted her head back and had time for a pleased smile before he leaned over the side of the booth and kissed her. Not just a quick hello. A kiss. It went on so long a couple of guys at a nearby table started to hoot encouragement.
Finally, he pulled away, then circled around and sat down next to Karina. “This is girls’ night,” Izzy told him.
“Oh, you finally made time for that castration appointment, Iz?” he shot back. Blue. His eyes were a vivid, icy blue. And his black lashes were crazy long. He had features Sarah had heard described as “fine”—sculpted lips, prominent cheekbones and chin, and a long, somewhat narrow nose. Unlike Nate’s, that nose of his didn’t look like it had ever been broken.
Karina gave him a playful shove. “Bad.”
Izzy smoothed one of her perfectly arched brows—with her middle finger. The guy—who had to be Ethan—grinned at her, then jerked his chin at Sarah. “That the new girl?”
Clearly not a first-and-last-name-with-a-handshake type. “Sarah,” she told him.
“Well, Sarah. Welcome to the Sanctuary Bay Academy,” he said sarcastically. “Prepare to embrace the suck.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“Nice,” Maya muttered. Taylor seemed too focused on getting her meatloaf into appropriately small bites to follow the conversation.
“I’m always nice,” Ethan agreed.
“Out of my seat,” a girl—white, skinny, brown hair—ordered Ethan. She looked like she shopped out of the Official Hipster Catalog in her thick-framed glasses, Strawberry Shortcake tee, skinny jeans with a few carefully placed patches, and clunky grandma beads. “Out of my seat,” she repeated when Ethan didn’t move.
“Settle down, Specs, I’m going.” He kissed Karina again, then took his time sliding out of the booth.
“Your boyfriend’s kind of an ass,” Taylor remarked. So she had been listening. She glanced over her shoulder, watching Ethan saunter away. “Nice butt though.”
“Don’t listen to him about the school,” Maya told Sarah. She paused as they gave drink orders to one of the servers. Once he left, she continued. “Ethan’s one of those people who thinks it’s cool being a hater.”
“You don’t even really know him,” Karina protested.
“Of course I know him,” Maya said.
“It’s pretty much unavoidable,” Izzy agreed. “Living on an island and all.”
“I’m going to go wait for the caramel soup. I’ll get you one, Sarah. They’re better nice and warm.” Karina stood up, even though she hadn’t gotten through a quarter of her dinner.
“Stand by your man,” the hipster girl crooned with a twang. “I’m Tif, by the way,” she said to Sarah, a little twang still in her voice.
“As in Tiffany. She’s from Georgia,” Izzy added, as if that explained everything.
“Atlanta, okay. Not some pea farm.” Tif sounded annoyed. She must have forgotten hipster chicks didn’t care about shit. “And people from all over the place are named Tiffany. It’s a normal name.”
Maya took over the conversation, giving Sarah a rundown of the clubs she could join and the school activities coming up. As she was finally wrapping up the rah-rah, Karina returned with a tray holding four bowls of dessert. “I figured you didn’t want one, since you can’t eat it with chopsticks. But if you do, I’ll go back,” she said to Taylor, seeming to have returned to her cheery self.
“I’m good,” Taylor answered.
The caramel soup was the most delicious thing Sarah had ever put in her mouth. Enough time at this place, and her brain would be stuffed with memories she’d be happy to replay forever.
“Back to our room for chick flicks and Barbacoas?” Karina asked when they’d all finished.
“Um … I sort of said I’d meet up with Nate,” Maya confessed.
“Girls’ night is sacred,” Karina reminded her. “We agreed that it had to be, otherwise someone would always be in a relationship and we’d never be able to get all of us together at the same time.”
“What I meant was that I said I’d meet up with Nate because I have to study. Studying has to come before girls’ night, and I didn’t get my calc homework done,” Maya said.
“That’s what the young people are calling it these days?” Izzy teased. “Let her go, Kar. Getting done … with homework is important.”
“Oh, fine,” Karina said. “But next week—”
“Next week I promise. Just not on Saturday night again.” Sarah stood up so Ma
ya could get out of the booth.
“I actually have to go too.” Tif got to her feet and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Don’t complain,” she said before Karina could get a word out. “Big delivery of lawn fertilizer came in this afternoon.”
“I kind of want to hit the gym,” Taylor said, with an apologetic smile. “I skipped this morning, but I promised myself I’d go sometime before the end of the day.”
“Oh, go. The three of us are plenty for girls’ night,” Karina decreed. “Sarah, you get to pick the movie.”
“Please not Safe Haven,” Izzy begged as they started for the door. “We’ve seen it a million times, and it’s never gotten any better.”
“You don’t have a romantic bone in your body,” Karina said. “Not even one of the little pinky bones. I mean that dance at the diner? Swoon!”
“Never seen it,” Sarah admitted.
“Then we have to watch it! You’ll love it. Everyone does, except Izzy. Oh, let’s take Sarah the long way back. I want her to see Suicide Cliff,” Karina said.
“Suicide Cliff?”
“It has an amazing view,” Karina explained. “I caught Tif humming ‘Heart’s Content’ one day with this dreamy smile on her face,” she continued, hopping back to talking about the movie.
“Does Tif work on the grounds or something?” Sarah asked. “Why does she care about a fertilizer delivery?”
“Remember before when I said school was sort of like prison?” Izzy asked with a sly smile.
“Well, Tif is like our Red on Orange,” Karina jumped in. “She’s the one that can get you stuff from the outside.”
Karina had started talking in L.A.-speak again, but Sarah figured she understood the important part. “So the weed and the booze come in with legitimate shipments from outside, like lawn fertilizer.”
“Our girl’s quick,” Izzy said as they walked. “The gardener has someone on the mainland who’ll add things to the regular order. A few other employees at school do too. It’s not just drugs and alcohol. On the island, people want everything from the real world. Movies and music, we can stream from the school database. But that leaves a lot. Nail polish. Clothes. Favorite food is a big one. There’s a guy here who would die without his Chile Limón Doritos. They have chips and stuff at the coffee place, but not his precious Doritos.”