Keeping Up With Piper

by Amanda Adair

  “Just famous, Jason,” Penelope says. She seems annoyed and rolls her eyes.

  “Alright, everyone,” Ms. Downing interrupts their conversation. “So, who’s sitting next to Penelope.”

  “I’m Piper,” she says. “Piper Flores.”

  She’s the only one who tells us her last name.

  “Flores,” repeats Ms. Downing. “Nice name, who knows what it means?”

  “Flowers,” someone in the first row says. I think he introduced himself as Caleb.

  Flores is a beautiful last name but I haven’t learned any Spanish yet.

  “Great, Caleb. Did you all learn Spanish in middle school? Mr. Hernández will be happy to teach you a lot more than you already know.” Does this school really only have one Spanish teacher?

  They all nod. Spanish is one of the subjects taught at Maywood High School. I may not know any Spanish but I’ve just started studying French in Toronto. Sadly, French is not taught at Maywood until the eleventh grade, and then it’s actually exctracuriccular.

  “So, Piper, If you could ask God to change a problem in the world today, what would it be?”

  Jennifer prepared me for that, she told me that people living in small towns are way more religious. I regularly go to church but since my Dad’s a scientist I have a down-to-earth approach to christianity.

  Piper leans over to Penelope and whispers something.

  “Excuse me?,” Ms. Downing asks. “Speak louder, so everyone can hear it.”

  I’d want to end war. And I’m not a beauty pageant, so it’s not an empty phrase. I really mean it. Or else I would want to stop illnesses. My grandma died from cancer. I was only five years old when the desease took her from us. Mom was so sad she couldn’t take care of me for several weeks. Dad had to take some time off. Every time someone mentions her name, she becoms extremely sad for hours.

  “Poverty.”

  “Okay, why do you want to end poverty?”

  “Because it’s sad that some people can’t afford certain things.”

  “Things like what?”

  “Food, a house, nice clothes, make-up, a car.”

  Poverty is not what she told Penelope. “Ugliness” is what she whispered.

  It takes some time for Ms. Downing to ask everyone for their names and come up with a unique question for them. She asks for their parents’ jobs, their career aspiration and their pets.

  “Last one,” she says. “Name?”

  “I’m Jason.”

  “His name’s Jayjay,” Piper says and giggles.

  The whole class starts laughing.

  “Be quiet, Piper. Let me think of one last question for you, Jason,” Ms. Downing continues, ignoring Piper.

  Jason, who sits in the third row behind us, is the last one to be questioned by Ms. Downing. He has dark messy hair that falls into his face. He’s wearing an oversized light grey sweater and some leather wristbands. After getting to know each other we are finally going to start doing some math. A glimpse at my watch tells me we only have about fifteen minutes left.

  “If you could have an endless supply of any food, what would it be?,” Ms. Downing asks.

  Her questions seem to be creative, but whenever she can’t think of another one she looks at a paper on the table. It must be some kind of list with questions for getting to know each other. Maybe she printed them out from the internet. She really seems like someone who just googles stuff and simply follows the instruction. How to let students introduce themselves? Just do some icebreakers. How to make the students listen? Use these strategies… maybe the silent coyote hand signal.

  Jason casually leans back. “Well,” he says and stops.

  “It can be anything you want,” Ms. Downing adds.

  “So, basically you ask for his favorite food?,” Penelope asks critically. “Isn’t that the question?”

  “Yes, Penelope, those two questions are indeed similar,” Ms. Downing admits.

  Jason chews on his pen. “Hot dogs I guess,” he finally answers. He always keeps his mouth slightly opened, which makes him look casual but also a bit dumb.

  “Great, and I see you are the last one. We have a few minutes left to do some math,” Ms. Downing turns around and searches for something in her bag.

  “Jason Miller likes sausages,” says Axel, just so loud that the second and third row can hear it.

  In the first row a few students including Tammy, Nora and Alanna open their books. They can’t hear Axel.

  “Shut up, Axel,” says Jason.

  “At least I’m not gay,” whispers Axel and laughs.

  “You don’t like hot dogs?,” Piper asks.

  “I like pussies,” Axel answers and laughs.

  Ms. Downing turns back around. “I brought a few worksheets for you. The assignments are just a repetition of everything you’ve learned in middle school, so don’t worry. They’re all really easy.”

  She hands Nora a stack of papers, which Nora then splits. She hands one half to either of the classmates sitting next to her.

  “Work together in pairs or trios,” instructs Ms. Downing. “No lone wolves in my class.”

  “Penelope?”

  Piper turns to Penelope on my left, then I turn towards Cora on my right. Luckily the second row consists of only girls while the third row is full of boys.

  “I’ll work with Everly and Anna,” says Cora.

  That’s what I expected. Since I was the only one who didn’t raise her hand when Ms. Downing asked who already attended Maywood Middle School, I am the only one who doesn’t already have friends in class. They probably know each other well since Maywood is so small. Shouldn’t it be easy to make friends at a new school? Normally you just ask the new one to join them. Why do I have to?

  “Can I join you?”

  From my last relocations I don’t remember making new friends to be so difficult. We just talked to each other and suddenly I had several new close friends.

  Cora looks at the front. “Ms. Downing, can we work together, Everly, Anna, Samantha and me?”

  “No,” says Ms. Downing. “Your group is too big.”

  “Samantha works with us,” Piper says.

  “So, it’s three of you in each group?,” asks Ms. Downing. She doesn’t wait for us to answers. “Well, good.”

  “What’s the first question?” Penelope leans over the table, staring at the paper we’ve just got.

  “Which set contains only rational numbers?,” Piper reads.

  “A number that can be expressed as a ration of two integers,” I explain to her.

  “A what?,” Piper asks. “Let’s just ask the boys. They should know.”

  Piper and Penelope turn around to the third row.

  “What’s your answer for the first assignment?,” Penelope asks.

  Axel shrugs his shoulders. “That’s easy, it’s b and c.”

  “Okay,” Penelope says, and they turn back around, while I look at my book. I’ve written b and c are sets of rational numbers. While I sit there and write down the answers I see that Bran still sits at his table alone.

  “Okay, time’s up,” Ms. Downing says right when the school bell rings.

  20.1

  Blair

  Little did I know what moving to Maywood, Pennsylvania, and attending Maywood High School will do to me. To my body and mind, my mental and physical health, my future, my family, to my whole life. I had no idea what Piper would do to me, what Axel would do to me, what the teachers and parents would do to me. If I could turn back time, I would do anything to stop us from moving here. Little did I know that moving to Maywood would destroy my life, would destroy me. That it would kill Samantha Goldinger and give birth to Blair Morgan.

  Lovely Samantha, I’m deeply sorry that you don’t know what’s yet to come. I want to give you a hug, I want to hold your hand, and just give you comfort. I want to be there for you because I know very well what horrible things are about to happen. Every time I think of Maywood I cringe, I cry, I feel depressed a
nd lonely. You won’t get out of there alive.

  R.I.P. Samantha Goldinger.

  I was such a cutie back then, wasn’t I? Cute Samantha. I wonder who I’d be if none of this had happened. Whould I still be that lovely and kind girl, all grown-up? Would my life look different? Yes, I’m sure of that, but what would it look like now? That’s something I’ll never know. Would I have a boyfriend, maybe even a husband? Would I live somewhere else than in New York City? Would I still have an intact family? Would I still be a graduate from NYU? Would I live in Canada, in Louisiana or California? Would I curse and fake documents? Nah. Samantha wouldn’t do that. Blair does.

  I’m far from cute and lovely now. Thanks to the people of Maywood. I can’t destroy them all at once. Maybe I’ll destroy them one by one.

  Piper is my priority.

  21

  My second subject on Mondays is chemistry. I loved science when I was a kid, when Dad spent most days with me in museums all over the United States and Canada – at the Royal Ontario Museum, the California Academy of Sciences in San Francisco or the California Science Center in Los Angeles. But in middle school I gradually lost interest. I follow my classmates down the crowded hallway. Every few steps I almost bump into someone. On the inside this school looks like those typical schools in American teenage movies. The walls are white, the lockers that are lined up in the hallways are deep blue. I almost expect Regina George or Troy Bolton to jump right in front of me. It’s not that my school in Toronto looked any different but it clearly didn’t have that intense American flair. I wonder if Mom ever filmed a teenage drama. I feel like she didn’t because she only started taking up real roles in her mid-twenties after some acting workshops and even a degree in acting, which she got in San Diego. I watched many of her newer movies, short films, commercials and series. Currently the only projects she does are audio books, where she’s the narrator. That way she can still be there for me.

  “What have you been doing in Canada?,” Cora asks and appears next to me.

  Cora’s a very skinny tall girl with sleek black hair and a bony body. She could be a model, just because of her height. She could be casted for America’s Next Top Model. Her friends Anna and Everly couldn’t look more different than her. They’re both blonde, but Anna has deep blue eyes and gold blonde wild curls, while Everly has short hair, light blonde, that doesn’t grow beyond her chin, and huge hipster glasses.

  “We moved there when I was eight because of my parent’s jobs,” I tell her.

  It was rather because of my Dad’s job, but Mom was able to continue acting in Toronto as well. The Canadian film industry grows remarkably.

  “Samantha, right?”

  I nod. “Yeah, right.”

  We arrive at the science lab, a large room that looks just like the other classroom, except there are a lot of basins between the tables and posters of all kinds on the wall. Those posters show the periodic table, photos of various species of animals or the standard model of elementary particles. Apparently this lab is used for chemistry, physics and biology. Maywood Highschool is so small that our courses are almost always filled with the same people. Except from two guys all of my math classmates are also in my chemistry class.

  The two girls I sat next to during math, Penelope and Piper, now sit in the third row.

  “You can sit with us,” Cora says, and I follow her to one of those grey tables.

  Everly and Anna already sat down. Cora sits down next to Everly, and I sit down next to her. I find it confusing that everybody already knows each other. It feels so weird to be the only new student in class, the only one that didn’t already go to Maywood Middle School. It’s such a small town, who would want to move here if it wasn’t for a job at a university? I wonder what Dad does there all day.

  Most of my classmates seem to know each other quite well. Piper and Penelope literally stick together like gum, Cora is magically drawn to Anna and Everly, and Jason steadily follows Axel. They always go to classes together. They’re all clustered in pairs or groups. All of them except Bran, of course, he’s constantly on his own and rarely talks to the others. But he’s one of the two guys who have just left us, who are not in this class.

  Science is taught by Mr. Simmons. He’s quite young, maybe in his mid-thirties, and his appearance is similar to that of James Franco. He has a short beard and is wearing a check shirt with which he looks like a woodcutter.

  “First,” he starts talking, “I should tell you that at the end of this school year there’s a science fair. All of you have to take part and you are going to impress me with your projects. You can pick a partner until next week and send me a proposal as soon as possible. It does need some time to prepare and figure out what topic is the best for you and your partner.”

  Feels like this isn’t school but a dating service. Pick a partner here, pick a group there.

  “Can we do anything we want?,” Tammy asks. Her bangs are so long, I wonder how she’s can still see and isn’t annoyed by all that hair around her eyes.

  “Yes,” Mr. Simmons answers, “but you’ll all have to talk to me as soon as you agree on a project.”

  “Let’s do a project on make-up,” I hear Piper say, who sits in the row right behind us. “On foundation or eye shadow.”

  “Make-up isn’t science,” Penelope whispers.

  “Yes, it is,” Piper argues. “It’s biology, NO WAIT, chemistry. We could come up with our own make-up brand.”

  “That’s not science either, that’s business,” Penelope says. “We can’t create a company for a science fair. We need something properly to work on.”

  “You know what chemistry is?,” Axel interferes their useless conversation. “Us two, Piper. You and me.”

  “Turn around,” Jason says, “and show us your make-up.”

  “Why?,” Piper asks. “Do you want to learn something about how to apply make-up perfectly?”

  My middle school had a set of very strict rules when it comes to dress code, make-up and hair.

  Make-up

  Only discreet make-up is allowed. You can use foundation, lip balm, even a little mascara, as long as no one can tell you are using any of that. It should look completely natural, which means no fake eyelashes, no eyeshadow of any color, especially no glitter or any extreme rainbow colors, no lipstick, especially not in red. Basically the rule meant no anything else but your face and skin. The school thought we were way too young to wear make-up in middle school.

  Length of skirts and shorts

  Skirts and shorts must be knee-length. No exception. This applies to both boys and girls. There must be some kind of shorts worn underneath the skirt in case it’s blown up by gust of wind in summer. You can’t show your underwear or butt, no matter what. You just need to be prepared for anything. Also, no skintight skirts and shorts, they need to wrap on your skin casually.

  Tops

  Tank tops, strapless tops, spaghetti straps, off-shoulder shirts and crop tops are NOT allowed. Girls are not allowed to show off their bra strap, never, boys are not allowed to show their nipples with any kind of shirt. I don’t even own these kind of tops. Also, never show of your belly button, and all shirts that are allowed must be tucked in at all times. With that rule the students at my middle school in Toronto always looked like little business men and women or modern princes and princesses. Always fashionable and exquisite.

  Leggings

  Leggings can only be worn underneath skirts, dresses or long t-shirts. You can never wear leggings as pants, not even for sports. The skirts, dresses or shirts above have to cover up the genital region and your ass.

  Hairstyles

  No unnatural hair colors allowed, such as blue, deep red, pink or green. Also no side cuts or under cuts, and no patterns or shapes cut into it. Other than that most hairstyles were allowed. Girls were allowed to wear short hair, boys were allowed to wear long hair. That wasn’t always the case. When I started middle school girls were obliged to have a chin-length bob minimum and boys w
eren’t allowed to wear their hair longer than chin-length.

  Other rules

  It’s not allowed to show your underwear, so no see-through clothes of any kind. Necklines must be modest. Girls are not allowed to show their breasts. Because of safety you’re not allowed to wear baggy clothes, underneath which you could hide weapens. No hats, caps or sunglasses indoors, no visible piercings and tattoos. These are all the rules.

  The dress code at Maywood seems way more relaxed. I see all kinds of clothes on the hallway, even short skirts, blue hair or tops showing belly buttons. Most students in my class dress like my former classmates. They wear simple jeans and plain unicolored shirts, sometimes a cardigan, a pullover or a jacket. Penelope, however, is wearing lots of make-up today. Her eyeshadow’s glittery, her lips are deep pinkish and her eyelashes are definitely artificial. They just can’t be that long and black naturally. They’re even a bit curled. Piper isn’t wearing loads of make-up but she’s exposing lots of her skin. Her skirt shows off her knees and tighs, and I’m quite sure she doesn’t wear shorts underneath, and her crop top reveals her shoulders and her belly button whenever she raises an arm. Her belly button’s pierced. I didn’t know that is legal here.

  “Let’s do a project together,” I say to Cora, because I assume Everly and Anna are going to work together.

  “Okay,” she says. “Any ideas?”

  “Guys,” Mr. Simmons interrupts us. “You can talk about your projects later.” He steps forward and leans back on his desk. “Let’s first get to know each other.

  Apparently getting to know each other is today’s primary goal. I’m getting used to it.

  “We’re playing truth or lie today,” Mr. Simmons says.

  “I know that game,” one of the students in the first row says.

  “Every one of you tells us two facts about them, one is supposed to be a lie, one must be true.”