by Unknown
her eyes.
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Oh-ho! Too good to dish with the rest of us? Kate teased, flicking
the condensed water from the side of her glass in Helens
direction.
Helen play-shrieked, and then had to leave Kate for a moment to
ring up a few customers. As soon as she finished the transactions,
she came back and continued the conversation.
No. I just dont think its that strange for a big family to buy a
big property. Especially if theyre going to live in it year-round. It
makes more sense than some old wealthy couple buying a summer
home thats so huge they get lost on the way to the mailbox.
True, Kate conceded. But I really thought youd be more interested
in the Delos family. Youll be graduating with a few of them.
Helen stood there as Delos ran around her head. The name
meant nothing to her. How could it? But some echoey part of her
brain kept repeating Delos over and over.
Lennie? Whered you go? Kate asked. She was interrupted by
the first members of the book club coming early, wound-up and
already in the throes of wild speculation.
Kates prediction was right. The Unbearable Lightness of Being
was no match for the arrival of new year-rounders, especially since
the rumor mill had revealed that they were moving here from
Spain. Apparently, they were Boston natives who had moved to
Europe three years ago in order to be closer to their extended family,
but now, suddenly, theyd decided to move back. It was the
suddenly part that everyone spent the most time discussing. The
school secretary had hinted to a few of the book club members that
the kids had been enrolled so far past the normal date that the parents
had practically had to bribe their way in, and all sorts of special
agreements had to be made to ship their furniture over in time
for their arrival. It seemed like the Delos family had left Spain in a
hurry, and the book club agreed that there must have been some
kind of falling-out with their cousins.
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The one thing Helen could confidently gather from all the chatter
was that the Delos family was rather unconventional. There were
two fathers who were brothers, their younger sister, one mother
(one of the fathers was a widower), and five kids, all living together
on the property. The entire family was supposed to be unbelievably
smart and beautiful and wealthy. Helen rolled her eyes when she
heard the parts of the gossip that elevated the Delos family to
mythic proportions. In fact, she could barely stand it.
Helen tried to stay behind the register and ignore the excited
whispering, but it was impossible. Every time she heard one of the
members of the Delos family mentioned by name, it drew her attention
as if it had been shouted, irritating her. She left the register
and went over to the magazine rack, straightening the shelves just
to give her hands something to do. Even so, she couldnt help but
hear how scandalized the book club was to find out that Cassandra
Delos, who was thirteen, had skipped a grade and was going to be
attending high school. She was supposed to be exceptionally
bright, but on the whole, the book club disapproved of children
skipping grades, probably because none of their children had ever
managed it.
They dont like to be separated, Helen thought. Its safer if they
stick together. Thats the real reason why Cassandra skipped a
grade.
Helen had no idea where the thought had come from, but she
knew it was true. She also knew she had to get as far away from the
gossip as she could or she was going to start yelling at Kates
friends. She needed to make herself as busy as possible.
As she wiped down the shelves and stocked the candy jars, she
mentally ticked the kids off in her head. Hector is a year older
than Jason and Ariadne, who are twins. Lucas and Cassandra
are brother and sister, cousins to the other three.
She changed the water for the flowers and rang up a few customers.
Hector wouldnt be there the first day of school because he
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was still in Spain with his aunt Pandora, though no one in town
knew why.
Helen pulled on a pair of shoulder-length rubber gloves, a long
apron, and dug through the garbage for stray recycling items. Lucas,
Jason, and Ariadne are all going to be in my grade. So Im
surrounded.
She went to the back kitchen and put a load in the industrial
dishwasher. She mopped the floors and started counting the
money. Lucas is such a stupid name. Its all wrong. It sticks out
like a sore thumb.
Lennie?
What! Dad! Cant you see Im counting? Helen said, slamming
her hands down on the counter so hard she made a stack of quarters
jump. Jerry held up his hands in a placating gesture.
Its the first day of school tomorrow, he reminded her in his
most reasonable voice.
I know, she responded blankly, still unaccountably irritable but
trying not to take it out on her father.
Its almost eleven, honey, he said. Kate came out from the back
to check on the noise.
Youre still here? Im really sorry, Jerry, she said, looking perplexed.
Helen, I told you to lock the front and go home at nine.
They both stared at Helen, who had arranged every bill and every
coin in neat stacks.
I got sidetracked, Helen said lamely.
After sharing a worried glance with Jerry, Kate took over counting
the change and sent them home. Still in a daze, Helen gave
Kate a kiss good-bye and tried to figure out how she had missed
out on the last three hours of her life.
Jerry put Helens bike on the back of the Pig and started the engine
without a word. He glanced over at her a few times as they
drove home, but he didnt say anything until they parked in the
driveway.
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Did you eat? he asked softly, raising his eyebrows.
I dont . . . yes? Helen had no idea what or when shed last
eaten. She vaguely remembered Kate cutting her some cherries.
Are you nervous about the first day of school? Junior years a big
one.
I guess I must be, she said absentmindedly. Jerry glanced over
at her and bit his lower lip. He exhaled before speaking.
Ive been thinking maybe you should talk to Dr. Cunningham
about those phobia pills. You know, the kind for people who have a
hard time in crowds? Agoraphobia! Thats what its called, he
burst out, remembering. Do you think that could help you?
Helen smiled and ran the charm of her necklace along its chain.
I dont think so, Dad. Im not afraid of strangers, Im just shy.
She knew she was lying. It wasnt just that she was shy. Any time
she extended herself and attracted attention, even accidentally, her
stomach hurt so badly it felt almost like the stomach flu or menstrual
crampsreally bad menstrual crampsbut shed sooner
light her hair on fire than tell her father that.
And youre okay with that? I know youd never ask, but do you
want help? Because I think this is holding you back. . . . Jerry said,
starting in on one of their oldest fights.
Helen cut him off at the pass. Im fine! Really. I dont want to
talk to Dr. Cunningham, I dont want drugs. I just want to go inside
and eat, she said in a rush. She got out of the Jeep.
Her father watched her with a small smile as she plucked her
heavy, old-fashioned bike off the rack on the back of the Jeep and
placed it on the ground. She rang the bell on her handlebar jauntily
and gave her dad a grin.
See, Im just peachy, she said.
If you knew how hard what you just did would be for an average
girl your age, youd get what Im saying. You arent average, Helen.
You try to come off that way, but youre not. Youre like her, he
said, his voice drifting off.
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For the thousandth time Helen cursed the mother she didnt remember
for breaking her fathers sweet heart. How could anyone
leave such a good guy without so much as a good-bye? Without so
much as a photo to remember her by?
You win! Im not average, Im specialjust like everyone else,
Helen teased, anxious to cheer him up. She nudged him with her
hip as she walked past him, wheeling her bike into the garage.
Now, what is there to eat? Im starving, and its your week to be
kitchen slave.
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UNCORRECTED E-PROOFNOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
.....................................................................
Chapter Two
Still without her own car, Helen had to ride her bike to
school the next morning. Normally at a quarter to eight, it
would be cool out, even a little chilly with the wind blowing
off the water, but as soon as she woke up, Helen could
feel the hot, humid air lying on her body like a wet fur coat.
She had kicked her sheets off in the middle of the night, wriggled
out of her T-shirt, drank the entire glass of water on her nightstand,
and still she woke up exhausted by the heat. It was very unisland
weather, and Helen absolutely did not want to get up and go
to school.
She pedaled slowly in an attempt to avoid spending the rest of
the day smelling like phys ed. She didnt usually sweat much, but
shed woken up so lethargic that morning she couldnt remember if
she had put on deodorant. She flapped her elbows like chicken
wings trying to catch a whiff of herself as she rode, and was relieved
to smell the fruity-powdery scent of some kind of protection.
It was faint, so she must have put it on yesterday, but it only
needed to hold on until track practice after school. Which would be
a miracle, but oh well.
As she cruised down Surfside Road she could feel the baby hairs
around her face pulling loose in the wind and sticking to her
cheeks and forehead. It was a short ride from her house to school,
but in the humidity, her carefully arranged first-day-of-school
hairdo was a big old mess by the time she locked her crummy bike
to the rack. She only locked it out of tourist-season habit and not
because anyone at school would deign to steal it. Which was good
because she also had a crummy lock.
She pulled her ruined hair out of its bonds, ran her fingers
through the worst of the tangles, and retied it, this time settling for
a boring, low ponytail. With a resigned sigh she swung her book
bag over one shoulder and her gym bag over the other. She bent
her head and slouched her way toward the front door.
She got there just a second before Gretchen Clifford, and was obliged
to hold the door open for her.
Thanks, freak. Try not to rip it off the hinges, will you?
Gretchen said archly, breezing past Helen.
Helen stood stupidly at the top of the steps, holding the door
open for other students, who walked past her like she worked
there. Nantucket was a small island, and everyone knew each other
painfully well, but sometimes Helen wished Gretchen knew a little
bit less about her. Theyd been best friends up until fifth grade,
when Helen, Gretchen, and Claire were playing hide-and-seek at
Gretchens house, and Helen accidentally knocked the bathroom
door off its hinges while Gretchen was using it. Helen had tried to
apologize, but the next day Gretchen started looking at her funny
and calling her a freak. Ever since then it seemed like shed gone
out of her way to make Helens life suck. It didnt help matters that
Gretchen now ran with the popular crowd, while Helen hid among
the braniacs.
She wanted to snap back at Gretchen, say something clever like
Claire would, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she
flipped the doorstop down with her toe to leave the door propped
open for everyone else. Another year of fading into the background
had officially begun.
Helen had Mr. Hergeshimer for homeroom. He was the head of
the English department, and had mad style for a guy in his fifties.
He wore silk cravats in warm weather, flashy colored cashmere
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scarves when it was cold, and drove a vintage convertible Alfa
Romeo. The guy had buckets of money and didnt need to work,
but he taught high school, anyway. He said he did it because he
didnt want to be forced to deal with illiterate heathens everywhere
he went. That was his story, anyway. Personally, Helen believed he
taught because he absolutely loved it. Some of the other students
didnt get him and said he was a wannabe British snob, but Helen
thought he was one of the best teachers shed probably ever have.
Miss Hamilton, he said broadly as Helen stepped through the
door, the bell ringing at exactly the same time. Punctual as usual.
Im certain you will be taking the seat next to your cohort, but first,
a warning. Any exercise of that talent for which one of you earned
the sobriquet Giggles and I shall separate you.
Sure thing, Hergie, chirped Claire. Helen slid into the desk next
to her. Hergie rolled his eyes at Claires mild disrespect, but he was
pleased.
It is gratifying to know that at least one of my students knows
that sobriquet is a synonym for nickname, no matter how impertinent
her delivery. Now, students: another warning. As you are
preparing for your SATs this year, I shall expect you all to be ready
to give me the definition of a new and exciting word every
morning.
The class groaned. Only Mr. Hergeshimer could be sadistic
enough to give them homework for homeroom. It was against the
natural order.
Can impertinent be the word we learn for tomorrow? asked
Zach Brant anxiously.
Zach was usually anxious about something, and he had been
since kindergarten. Sitting next to Zach was Matt Millis, who
looked over at Zach and shook his head as if to say, I wouldnt try
&
nbsp; that if I were you.
Matt, Zach, and Claire were the AP kids. They were all friends,
but as they got older they were starting to realize only one of them
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could be valedictorian and get into Harvard. Helen stayed out of
the competition, especially because she had started liking Zach less
and less the past few years. Ever since his father became the football
coach and starting pushing Zach to be number one both on the
field and in the classroom, Zach had become so competitive that
Helen could barely stand to be around him anymore.
A part of her felt bad for him. She would have pitied him more if
he wasnt so combative toward her. Zach had to be everything all
the timepresident of this club, captain of that team, the guy with
all the gossipbut he never looked like he was enjoying any of it.
Claire insisted that Zach was secretly in love with Helen, but Helen
didnt believe it for a second; in fact, sometimes she felt like Zach
hated her, and that bothered her. He used to share his animal
crackers with her during recess in the first grade, and now he
looked for any opportunity to pick a fight with her. When did
everything get so complicated, and why couldnt they all just be
friends like they were in grade school?
Mr. Brant, Mr. Hergeshimer enunciated. You may use impertinent
as your word if you wish, but from someone of your mental
faculties I shall also be expecting something more. Perhaps an essay
on an example of impertinence in English literature? He nodded.
Yes, five pages on Salingers use of impertinence in his controversial
Catcher in the Rye by Monday, please.
Helen could practically smell the palms of Zachs hands clam up
from two seats away. Hergies powers for giving extra reading to
smart-ass students were legendary, and he seemed determined to
make an example out of Zach on the first day. Helen thanked her
lucky stars Hergie hadnt picked on her.
Shed rejoiced too soon. After Mr. Hergeshimer handed out the
schedules, he called Helen up to his desk. He told the other students
to speak freely, and they immediately launched into excited
first-day-of-school chatter. Hergie had Helen pull up a chair next
to him instead of making her stand and talk across his desk.
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Apparently, he didnt want any of the other students to hear what
he was going to say. That put Helen a little more at ease, but not