Ruby Reinvented

by Ronni Arno

  Connor will sleep in Eric’s office, which has a futon in it. They’re in there now, talking about the sketch.

  “What is that sketch for?” I ask Summer.

  “Only the coolest thing ever.” She grabs my hand and marches me into Eric’s office. “It’s the sketch for the observation deck, the one Connor’s going to build off the science room? Isn’t it pure awesomeness?”

  I look over her shoulder at what I assume is a photo of a deck with benches around the edges. “That’s a really nice one. Where is it?”

  Connor’s dimples get even deeper. “Nowhere. At least not yet. It’s the drawing for the observation deck we’re going to put in at Midcoast.”

  “You drew that?” I squint to get a better look.

  “Yep.” He unrolls the paper to reveal the full sketch of the deck, complete with a telescope tucked into the corner. But that’s not the best part. The best part is the picture of the sky.

  “That’s amazing.” I stare at the sketch. “That sky looks so real.”

  “Did you see many stars back home?”

  I‘m about to say that I have seen a lot, until I realize that he’s talking about the kind in the sky, not the kind in Hollywood.

  “Not really.” I play with my ruby necklace.

  Connor nods. “That’s probably because of the light pollution in Southern California. It’s one of the things I love most about Maine. You can see the stars.”

  “I noticed that as soon as I got here. It looks like someone punched a bazillion holes in the sky.”

  Connor pulls out his sketchbook. “It’s amazing what a difference the light pollution makes. This is a picture of the sky in Boston.” He flips to a drawing of the night sky, which looks like he lay down in the middle of a city and started drawing. I can see the tops of buildings, and only a few stars sprinkled throughout.

  Connor flips the page. “And this is a picture of the sky in Maine.” He must have drawn this from the same angle, but instead of buildings I see treetops, and more stars than I’ve ever seen before. I’m not sure how he made it look this way, because the picture is drawn in pencil. But it’s so real I swear I’m looking at a photo.

  My mouth is hanging open, and I realize I haven’t said anything for the last minute. I’m just staring at Connor’s sketch, and he’s staring at me. Probably waiting for me to talk. Which I can’t, because how can I tell him that this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen without sounding like I’ve got a gigantic crush on him?

  “It’s really good.” That’s the best I can come up with.

  “Thanks. I thought it would be cool to have a place at Midcoast where everyone can not only learn about the stars, but also spend time really looking at them.”

  “What’s this?” I point to a rectangular shape attached to the center railing of the deck.

  “Oh.” Connor looks at me, but his dimples—and his smile—are gone. “That’s the dedication.”

  I remember Connor telling me he’s dedicating the observation deck to his parents. Nobody says anything for a few seconds, and then Summer chimes in. “Connor and Dad are going to build it all summer. The school’s right behind it.”

  “Wow,” I say.

  “Yeah.” Summer nods. “It’s way cooler than pond scum.”

  “I heard that!” Holly yells from the other room.

  After some more oohing and aahing over Connor’s sketches, Eric ushers us upstairs so we can get ready to go to sleep.

  Summer and I are in bed giggling when Veronica comes in. “Ready for lights-out?”

  “Can’t we stay up just a little bit later?” Summer asks.

  “Tell you what,” Veronica says. “I’ll tuck you in now, but you can talk for a little while longer.”

  “Deal!” Summer nods.

  Veronica pulls our blankets up, gives each of us a kiss on the cheek, and turns off the light. “Good night, girls.”

  “Does your mom always tuck you in?” I ask after Veronica leaves.

  “Of course.” Summer pauses. “It must be really hard, not having a mom to tuck you in.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “It is.”

  Only Summer doesn’t know that I do have a mom. But she doesn’t tuck me in much. She used to, when I was a little girl, and she wasn’t such a big star. Now, even when she is home, she spends her nights at tapings or at fancy dinners with network bigwigs.

  “So, have you thought any more about what kinds of dresses you’re going to make?” Summer flips her pillow over.

  “Not yet,” I say. “I’m trying not to get too excited, you know, in case I don’t win.”

  “You’ll totally win. Your project’s awesomesauce.”

  I stare at the ceiling. “How come Connor isn’t applying for the Project Spotlight with his observation deck?”

  Even though the room is dark, I can see Summer shrug.

  “It’s a really cool project. Connor and your dad are going to build that whole thing themselves?”

  “Yep.”

  “With what?”

  “With tools.” She says this as if it’s perfectly normal. As if people build their own stuff all the time. “My dad built this house.”

  “This house? The one we’re in now?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s amazing. I’ve never heard of anyone building a house.”

  Summer laughs. “Doesn’t anyone build things in California?”

  “Not anyone I know,” I admit.

  “What’s it like, where you live in California?”

  “It’s nice I guess. I like my house, but it’s too big for us.”

  “Really? Wow!”

  I bite my lower lip. For a second I forgot that Summer doesn’t know about my real life. “Uhhh, yeah. It’s pretty big.”

  “Do you have a pool?”

  “Yes. And a hot tub.”

  “Awesome!” Summer flips her pillow again. “Maybe we can come visit during summer break.

  I blink. I can’t believe Summer wants to visit me. Me. Not my parents. There’s a tug at my stomach, and more than ever I want to tell Summer the truth about me. I want her to know who I really am.

  “Hey, Summer . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “I have something to tell you.”

  Chapter

  18

  MY PHONE BUZZES just as I’m about to Blab. I grab it off the nightstand. It’s a text from my mom.

  “Who’s texting so late?” Summer peers over the covers.

  I take a deep breath in. I should tell her. I was just going to tell her anyway, but the text has jerked me back to reality, and I realize this isn’t the right time. What if she’s mad at me and won’t speak to me? What if she kicks me out of her house?

  “It’s my nana. Just checking in.” I shoot a quick response off to my mom, and put the phone back on the nightstand.

  “So, what’d you want to tell me?” Summer asks.

  “Just that I really appreciate you inviting me to your house.” Which is totally true.

  “Of course! You can come anytime.” Summer yawns and turns over. “G’night, Bea.”

  “Good night, Summer.”

  In a few minutes I can hear Summer’s slow and steady breathing. I’m always amazed at how fast she falls asleep. I stare at the ceiling for what seems like hours, trying to think of a good way—and time—to tell Summer the truth about myself.

  The house is dark, so I figure everyone’s asleep. I push the covers off and get out of bed as quietly as I can. My mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls, so I tiptoe downstairs to get something to drink. I take a glass from the cupboard, fill it with water, and creep through the kitchen past Eric’s office (where Connor is sleeping!) to the foot of the stairs.

  “Bea?” It’s Connor’s voice.

  I jump. “Oh, sorry. I was just getting some water. Did I wake you?”

  “No.” He stretches. “Can’t sleep.”

  “Me neither.”

  I look down at my water. �
��Summer’s house is really nice.”

  Even though it’s dark, I can see Connor’s eyes light up. “I know, right? Did you see all the skylights?”

  “Oh, uh, I didn’t really notice that.”

  “Oh, you’ve got to see one.”

  I follow him into the kitchen. The lights are out, and I can barely see him in front of me. He stops underneath a skylight, and I stop inches from him. He looks up.

  “See?”

  “Wow.” It was amazing how many stars we can see through the skylight.

  “Can you see the Big Dipper?”

  I squint. “I don’t know what to look for.”

  “It looks like a sideways question mark.” He points up through the glass.

  “I just see globs of stars.”

  “Look at the lower right-hand corner of the skylight. The stars in the Big Dipper are pretty bright.”

  I shift my gaze to where he tells me and cock my head to the side. Just as I’m about to give up, I spot something that does, in fact, look like a sideways question mark. “I see it!”

  “That’s the Big Dipper.”

  “Cool.”

  “Yeah, it is.” He nods.

  We stare in silence for about a minute. I can’t think of anything to say, so I blurt the first thing that comes to my mind.

  “Hey, did you hear about the Sox game?”

  “You like the Sox?” Connor sounds skeptical. I can’t really blame him after Cassandra’s ridiculousness.

  “Not really.” I shrug. “But I love baseball. I’m a huge Dodgers fan.”

  “For real?” Connor’s teeth are white in the darkness.

  “Totally,” I say. And then I wish I hadn’t. Because I know what’s coming next.

  “You should have said something sooner. We could have watched the game tonight.”

  “Oh, no, that’s okay. I don’t need to watch every game.” I wave my hand in front of my face like it’s no big deal.

  “Who’s your favorite player?”

  Silence.

  I purse my lips and look up like I’m thinking. “Billy Sanders.”

  “He’s a great shortstop.”

  “Yeah. With a three-thirteen batting average.” I nod. He’s also an awesome cook and tells great jokes. But I don’t mention those things.

  I don’t want him to ask me any more questions about the Dodgers, and I don’t know what else to talk about, so I turn around and head up the stairs. “Good night.” I give him a wave.

  “Good night.” He steps back into Eric’s office and closes the door.

  I crawl into bed and tug the covers over my face. When will I ever learn to talk to boys without sounding like a total idiot?

  I don’t know when I finally fall asleep, but I wake up to bright sunshine and Topaz licking my face.

  “Hi, girl.” I wipe dog drool off my chin. Summer sits up in her bed and rubs her eyes, which widen at the sight of her dog.

  “Down, Topaz!” She points to the floor, and Topaz jumps off the bed. “I’m sorry. Did she wake you up?”

  “That’s okay,” I say. “She’s so sweet.” Topaz is standing at the floor by my bed wagging her tail.

  “Since we’re up, let’s go get breakfast.” Summer springs out of bed, which excites Topaz to no end. I push the blankets off of me and stretch my arms above my head. I slowly get out of bed, stretch again, and throw a sweatshirt on over my pajamas. Summer bounces down the stairs ahead of me. She’s always perky in the morning.

  Yummy breakfast smells waft from the kitchen, and my nose immediately identifies French toast and coffee. The smell of coffee reminds me of breakfast at my house, which I usually ate alone at the kitchen counter. When I get into the kitchen, Eric is putting French toast on a big platter, Veronica’s cutting up fruit, and Connor’s setting the table.

  “Good morning, sleepyheads,” Veronica greets us cheerfully. “Breakfast is ready.”

  “Cool!” Summer fist-pumps the air. “And we didn’t even have to do any of the work.”

  “Don’t worry,” Eric says. “You can clean up.”

  “Awwww.” Summer’s lower lip juts out.

  “We wouldn’t want you to miss out on any of the fun.” Eric winks.

  We all sit down and dig in. Topaz sits right next to Summer, on alert for anything that might fall off her plate.

  This is exactly what I imagined normal families to be like. As much as I love my parents and I know they love me, we just don’t spend time together like this.

  At breakfast we don’t talk about television ratings, or which Hollywood star got plastic surgery. We talk about school. We talk about the weather. We talk about Parents’ Weekend, which is fun now that I know my parents aren’t coming.

  “Summer tells us you’ll be doing a fashion show for the Spotlight Project,” Veronica says.

  I can feel my ears heat up. “Well, maybe. If I win.”

  “She’ll win.” Summer takes a gulp of orange juice.

  “You applied for the Spotlight Project?” Connor asks. I look up from my plate. Everyone’s staring at me.

  “Yeah, but it’s not a big deal, really, I just—Summer thought—”

  “It is a big deal,” Summer squeals. “You guys have to see Bea’s dresses. She makes them herself. With a real sewing machine. We’re going to have a fashion show and model them, so everyone can see how awesome they are.”

  “How exciting,” Veronica says. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  I’m very happy when the conversation shifts from my fashion show to Connor’s observation deck.

  “So if we break ground at the beginning of June,” Connor says, “we should be finished by the time school starts again.”

  Eric nods. “That’s the plan.”

  “What a talented group of kids we have here.” Veronica pours herself some coffee. It smells really good, but for the first time in a long time, I don’t want any. It’s really nice to be a regular kid.

  “Okay, kiddo.” Eric leans back in his chair and smiles at Summer. “You can clear the table.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Summer says.

  “I’ll help you.” I pick up my plate and walk around the table to gather the others.

  “You don’t have to, Bea. It’s my chore.”

  “I want to,” I say, and I mean it. One, because I want to help Summer, and two, because I’ll do anything to live like a normal kid, including doing dishes. I’ve never cleaned up after a meal before, but I’ve watched Ellie a million times, so I know what to do.

  I clear the table, and Summer loads the dishwasher. Once I wipe the table off, Connor and Eric unroll the sketch and huddle around it.

  “It’s almost time to leave for the dentist,” Veronica yells down from upstairs.

  “Ugh, I forgot about that.” Summer pours the soap in the dishwasher and presses start.

  “Mom’s taking me and Holly. Want to stay here with Connor and my dad?”

  I glance up at Connor, who glances up at me at the exact same time. “Sure, I guess.” I shrug.

  Since I’m not sure what else I should do, I stand next to Connor and look down at the sketch sprawled across the kitchen table. “You did all this yourself?”

  “Nah.” Connor shakes his head. “Eric helped me.”

  “Hardly,” Eric says. “I only helped get everything to scale. Connor did the real work.”

  Just as I’m about to tell them how amazing it is, the phone rings. Eric runs into the office to answer it, so Connor and I are left standing at the kitchen table. Alone. Again. I say a silent prayer that I’ll think of something brilliant to say.

  Nothing comes to me.

  “That’s really cool,” Connor says. “About your fashion show.”

  “Thanks, but it’s not nearly as cool as your observation deck. You should have applied for the Spotlight Project.”

  “Nah,” Connor says. “It’s not anywhere near ready yet.”

  “Even what you have is amazing.”

  “Do you sketch your
stuff out first?” Connor asks.

  “Mm-hm.” I nod, hoping my face isn’t as red as it feels.

  “I’ve never met anyone else who carries a sketchbook around.”

  “Me neither!” I say this a little too enthusiastically, but I’m thrilled that Connor and I have another thing in common. A real thing.

  “Can I see your sketches?” Connor asks.

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “I want to.” Connor gives me a smile.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.” I dart up the stairs and pull my sketchpad out of my suitcase. Connor’s sitting at the kitchen table when I get back. Eric is still on the phone.

  Connor rolls up his sketch, and I place my sketchpad on the table in front of him. My heart is beating a trillion miles a minute. I’m not sure if that’s because I flew down the stairs or if it’s because Connor is looking at my work.

  He goes to open the pad, and I instinctively plop my hand on top of it.

  “What?” He laughs.

  “It’s just . . .” I sigh. “Nobody’s ever seen my sketches before.”

  “Nobody?” He raises his eyebrows.

  “No,” I say. “I just never thought to show anyone.”

  “Yeah,” he says. “I never showed anyone my stuff either till I met Eric.”

  “Really?” I ask. “But it’s so good.”

  Connor shrugs. “I guess I just didn’t think anyone would care about a bunch of drawings.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel.” I’m nodding my head so hard I get dizzy. “I mean, who cares about a bunch of stupid dresses that I draw?”

  “I do,” Connor says in a small voice.

  Now my heart is beating so fast that I’m pretty sure it’s going to hurl itself out of my body and land right on top of the table. I take a deep breath and move my hand off of the sketchpad as Connor flips to the first page.

  Chapter

  19

  HIS EYES WIDEN when he looks at the first sketch. I hold my breath.

  “This is awesome,” he says.

  “You don’t have to say that. You won’t hurt my feelings if you—”

  “No, I’m serious.” He flips through the pages, looking carefully at the rest of the designs. “You’re really talented.”