by Amanda Adair
In the locker room I hurry to change my shirt. I don’t want to talk to Piper about my bra again and I don’t want her to touch my breasts again. I also hurry to change my trousers. She doesn’t have to feel encouraged to comment on other pieces of my underwear as well. Done with changing I say goodbye to Cora and Everly and walk outside. I’m glad that this day is over. It felt like weeks rather than just eight hours. I’ve had very different expectations than what hit me here. If I could I’d immediately move back to Toronto, even to San Francisco. It’s not like I hate it in Maywood, but it clearly hasn’t been a joyful day. As I walk to the bus station I watch some younger kids walk past me. I’ve googled Maywood High School, and Maywood Middle School is just a few blocks away. It must be not much of a change to transfer from middle to high school in this town. There’s also only one elementary, one middle and one high school. It’s really not a bad school. Mom’s researched a lot before Dad was allowed to accept this job offer. She didn’t care much about her job perspectives here, but she cared about what school I would transfer to. Little did she know that I’m not a small-town girl, I’m not made for living here.
Apparently most of my classmates are being picked up by their parents. It was an exception that Mom drove me to school today. She didn’t want me to be all stressed on my first day at a new school, in a new environment, so she drove me to school before going grocery shopping. I know she really misses all those organic grocery stores in Toronto. She’s been vegan for years and she pays a lot of attention to healthy food and balanced diet. However, she doesn’t pressure me to eat nothing but healthy food. I’m allowed to eat chocolate or French fries whenever I want to.
“I can exemplify a healthy lifestyle, but I can’t be around 24/7, you have to make your own decisions,” she said to me.
I don’t always understand her motives. Sometimes she’s the most easy-going Mom ever, then she’s super strict and suspicious. In sixth grade she didn’t want me to go to a party that my classmate Sarah threw, simply because instead of her parents her older sister was taking care of us. She expected it to be some sort of drug party.
As soon as the bus arrives I hop on and sit down in the first row. I look outside the window and watch the other students get in. I’ve already noticed that the style here in Maywood is somewhat different from what people my age wear in Toronto. Most of them are wearing shirts with prints, patterns and slogans. As little attention they pay to the combinability of their items, shirt, shoes, bags and pants, as much attention they do pay on brands and labels. Most of their outfits consist of typical teenage brands – PacSun, H&M, Hollister, Forever 21, American Eagle or Adidas. In Toronto lots of people wore more expensive and unusual brands from France, England or Italy. I’ve never really cared about what brand I wear as long as it’s casual, comfortable and looks nice. My parents don’t care either. They just put on some nice fitting clothes, and that’s it. I’m the kind of girl who either puts on a nice summer dress or some regular blue jeans and a t-shirt. I don’t spend much time doing my hair or make-up. To be honest I excepted small-town inhabitants to care less about brands, make-up and clothes than people in the city. Normally fashion trends arrive in cities first and in small towns such as Maywood last. I think about what Piper said about my bralette. All of my friends in Toronto wore these after one of the popular girls, Ally, started buying them. They’re nothing special.
The bus starts driving, and I watch a slim boy appear in front of me. It’s Bran who sits down next to me. He doesn’t do it because he wants to interact with me. It’s simply the last spare seat on the bus. Even the last row is completely full of students.
“Hey, Bran,” I say.
He doesn’t look at me. He’s so nervous that he’s shaking.
“Just leave me alone,” he says to my surprise. Even his voice is shaking. He seems quite shy and unapproachable.
“Okay,” I whisper and turn towards the window.
I watch all those houses we drive by, all looking alike, with the exact same perfect lawn, front yard and entrance door. They’re all either white, grey, light green, light beige or light brown. Everything’s light, no dark shades. No single house looks special or doesn’t fit in.
23
PIPER
Meet me at 5. Juniper Street 28
I read Piper’s message right before entering the house. Should I even go? I’m not someone to hide simply because Piper’s interested in other people’s clothes and bodies. She obviously can’t mind her own business. I wonder what I should say to Mom about my first day at high school. She wants me to be happy, have fun and enjoy everything I do in life. I can’t tell her I’d rather be in Toronto. It would make her so sad seeing me unhappy.
“Hey honey,” she welcomes me. Mom’s in the kitchen. I can hear her closing the fridge.
“Hi Mom,” I say and let my backpack slide down my arm. It falls on the ground next to the silver umbrella stand.
It’s half past four so I don’t have much time to get ready and go. I’m convinced that Piper and I won’t become close friends, but I don’t want to reject her invitation today. It’s the first I’ve got so far, from anyone here. I’ve just arrived, I don’t know anyone yet, I haven’t made any friends, so I have to go. I don’t want to be the girl who stays at home after school. I don’t even know what people here do all day. What could you do here when all there is are just residential neighborhoods and grocery stores? I’ve seen some playgrounds in town but that’s not the most interesting activity for fourteen-year-olds. In Toronto we would go to sports, art classes, music lessons or to the movies. There isn’t even a cinema in town. In order to watch a movie, you have to drive forty-five minutes. That’s what google said. And after driving for forty-five minutes you end up in front of a cinema that only runs cultural films. I just hope Piper’s group of friends, and maybe also Cora’s trio can show me some fun things to do. Otherwise I’ll just go back to Toronto on my own.
I walk inside the kitchen. Mom’s standing in front of the stove and has a look inside the cooking pot. It smells like basil and pepper.
“How was your first day?,” Mom asks as soon as I walk into the kitchen. She looks at me so full of expectation.
Prior to moving here we’ve talked a lot about what it could be like to live here.
“It’s just like Toronto or San Francisco, but more domestic,” Mom said.
“Come on,” Dad interfered. “They have a university nearby it will be quite a good place to live.”
And it’s true, their university is one of the oldest private universities in the state of Pennsylvania. It was founded as a women’s university but today it is co-ed. The university, however, is outside of town, and most students never leave the campus. They’re not really involved in anything that happens in town. Why should they? Even the lecturers are mostly guest lecturers from around the world. They stay for two or three terms, then they’re gone.
“It was alright,” I answer. “Everything’s new and the school’s quite small.” I try to say as much as I can without saying something too negative.
“Do you want some noodles? I also have some shrimps for your Dad, if you want some.”
I shake my head and walk towards the stove. “I’m actually on the go.”
“Oh, whereto?” She always wants to know where I go, especially in the evening.
“I’m meeting some friends from school,” I say. I wouldn’t say friends.
“Great,” she says and smiles.
Because of the hot steam above the stove I step back. “I need to go.”
“Where exactly does your friend live?,” she asks before I reach the doorframe.
“Juniper Street,” I say, grab my backpack and go.
“Tell me when I can pick you up,” Mom shouts as I close the door behind me.
I didn’t check Piper’s address on google because I thought everything in Maywood is always close. I was wrong. I have to walk almost half an hour, led by Google Maps, and arrive at her house about
ten minutes after five. Her house is one of those grey ones that look just like the others. I stop in front of the door and search for the doorbell. The panel has “Flores & Maas” on it. Soon after I press the button the door opens.
“Hello, Samantha,” Piper says and steps back so I can walk inside. “Come in.”
Her house is quite modern, and most furniture is either black or white, there’s a lot of glass, steel and leather.
“Did you walk here?,” she asks and looks around outside before closing the door.
“Yes,” I say.
“What do you want to drink?,” she asks.
“Coke? Beer?”
I follow Piper to the kitchen.
“Coke.” Do the others drink beer tonight? “And I’ve brought some chips.” I open my backpack and hand her the bag of chips. I got it from my parent’s larder.
“Okay.” Piper throws the bag of chips in the corner of the kitchen counter and fills a glass with the dark sweet liquid and hands it to me. “Follow me.”
She walks inside the living room, where Axel, Penelope, Jason and Tammy sit. “Does everyone have enough to drink?”
They all nod.
“Sí,” answers Tammy and raises her glass. It looks like water, but I guess it’s not.
They sit on a black leather corner sofa. Behind them there’s a small garden. In this district most houses are quite new and built closer to each other than in other streets in Maywood.
“I like your watch,” Tammy says to me.
I look at my arm. I’ve been wearing this watch all day. It’s gold but simple.
“Thanks,” I say.
There’s no space left on the sofa, so Piper sits down on the white fluffy carpet underneath the coffee table with a transparent table top. I sit down next to her, cross-legged.
“We were just talking about how stupid PE was,” she said.
“True,” I agree. “Didn’t like it either.” It is true. I don’t get along with our teacher very much. He’s way too aggressive.
“We thought we should play two truth and a lie again,” Piper tells me.
“There was only one truth when we played in class,” I say and put my glass on the table.
“Yeah, but that was just so we can save time,” she says and looks at the others. “So, who wants to start?” Before anyone can answer she looks at me. “Oh, and I have lots of snacks, so just grab some.”
There’s lots of plastic and glass bowls on the table, some small, some bigger, with chips, chocolate cookies, nuts and salt sticks.
“I start,” Tammy says and raises her arm.
“We’re not in school, Tam,” Piper gripes at her. As fast as she freaks out she also calms down. Within a few seconds she seems relaxed again. “Then tell us a lie and two truths. And please, guys, whenever I play this game someone is stupid enough to always stick to the order, so they tell us a lie first and then two truths. This is too easy to figure out, please don’t do that. I get pissed easily.” She really gets pissed easily.
Tammy looks at her a little mad but looks up as if she’s thinking.
“Okay, I have something,” she says. “I sleep naked, my brother’s actually my half-brother, and I can roll my tongue.”
“Rolling your tongue can be quite useful,” Axel comments and laughs. It’s rather a childish giggling.
Tammy opens her mouth and seriously rolls her tongue. She forms a small hole with it.
“Nice,” Axel says and is clapping his hands.
“Weirdo,” Piper comments in her usual criticizing tone.
“So that one’s true,” Penelope summarizes. “How about the sleeping-naked thing? I think it’s true.”
“It’s not,” Tammy says. “But Tucker is my half-brother.”
“Okay, I guess I’m next,” Piper says. “Do you still have enough to drink?”
Penelope and Axel look at their glasses. “No,” they say simultaneously.
“Anybody else?,” Piper asks before heading towards the kitchen. She comes back with a bottle of water and a bottle of soda. I still think the bottle of water isn’t real water but something she replaced it with. She pours both soda and some of the liquid inside the water bottle into their glasses.
“I have three cute little facts about me.” Piper sits down and gives each of us a mysterious look. “But you have to guess how many lies I tell you. It could either be one lie, two or all three are lies.”
“You can’t just change the rules,” Tammy complains. “You said you get pissed when we change them.”
“Get over it, Tamara Klontz,” Piper says. “Just guess what’s a lie.”
Tamara freezes and looks like she is going to explode any second.
“She hates it when someone says her last name,” Jason explains to me. She holds his hand on one side of his mouth when talking as if Tammy couldn’t hear him when he does that. She’s sitting next to him, of course she can hear it if I, sitting across the table, can.
“Because it sounds like vomiting,” Piper comments. She repeats her name and pretends like she’s actually vomiting. “Klontz. See.”
“Thanks, Pipes,” Tammy says totally pissed.
“Don’t blame me, blame your parents,” Piper says arrogantly. “You can marry someone with a hot name.”
“What’s a hot name?,” Jason asks and grabs a can from behind a large bowl with chips. It looks like beer. I wouldn’t recognize any beer brands. I’ll recognize all cover designs of every edition of Stephen King’s novels and know their title and publication date, but I have absolutely no clue when it comes to alcoholic beverages.
“Pitt or DaCaprio,” Piper says.
“DiCaprio,” I correct her automatically. I always feel the need to correct people when their pronunciation is messed up.
“L-EE-OOOH,” Penelope says.
“Ouh-ouh-ouh,” Piper and Penelope howl simultaneously.
I feel so out of place right now.
“You still need to tell us three facts about you, come on,” Axel urges. “I’m bored.”
“Okay, my loves,” Piper says. “I’ve never slept with my first boyfriend, I’ve once had an orgasm while horse riding and I’ve never been licked.”
This is getting way too sexual. I’ve recognized the exact same thing every time I was at my classmate’s. Her friends outside of school were two or three years older than us. The later it got, and the more alcohol was involved, the more sexual all the games and conversations became.
“Come on,” Piper says. “What’s lied?”
“You have slept with my first boyfriend,” Tammy says.
How many boyfriends did she have at the age of fourteen? More than one? More than one with whom she had sex? I don’t exactly know if I want to play this game with them.
“I have,” Piper admits. “And the other two?”
“You’ve never been licked, that’s true,” Jason guesses. “The orgasm on a horse is a lie.”
“Is it?,” Piper asks and looks around. “Samantha?”
“All three are lies,” I say because I don’t want to talk about her sexual experience in detail.
“So, you think I haven’t had an orgasm while horse riding and I have been licked?”
I don’t even want to think about what this fourteen-year-old precocious girl does.
“Yeah.” I nod.
“Axel,” Piper says and looks at him.
Axel empties his glass that is filled with the same drink as Tammy’s. “You’ve been licked, but you’ve never had an orgasm on a horse. If you did, show us how. It sounds unlikely.”
“You’re right, Axel,” she admits and leans forward to grab some cookies. “But it’s possible to have an orgasm while horse riding. I have a friend that did.”
“Lie,” Axel insists. “Show us.”
“I don’t have a horse,” she says. “Your turn.”
“Okay,” Axel says. “I need some time to think.”
“Think faster.”
“Two of my three ex-girlfrie
nds are blond, one of them is now a lesbian and I can pull up 150 pounds.”
I remember that he said he had three girlfriends in class, and that was his truth.
“You can’t lift 150 pounds,” I guess.
“Shut up,” Axel shouts. “I can.”
I stare at him, then look down. He’s so rude.
“You’re girlfriends were blonde?,” Piper asks.
“Don’t worry, babe,” he says. “I like all colors and shapes.”
“So that’s true?,” Penelope asks. “Then none of your ex-girlfriends is now a lesbian.”
“Good guess, Penny,” Axel congratulates. “You’re right.”
“That was too easy,” Piper complaints. “Who’s next? Samantha?”
I didn’t think about what to say, so I just use the skills I’ve learned in improv classes. “I hate the movie Mean Girls, I’ve never been to New York City and I don’t have Instagram.”
“Everybody has Instagram,” Piper says. “That’s a lie. And everybody loves Mean Girls and has been to New York City. Did you tell us three lies?”
“I don’t have Instagram,” Jason says.
“You’re weird,” Piper states.
“Any other opinions?,” I ask.
“No,” Axel says.
“You don’t have Instagram, you have been to New York, but you hate Mean Girls,” Tammy guesses.
“No,” I say. I just want to tell them what’s true and what’s the lie, so we can go on with the game. “I really don’t have Instagram.” I look at Piper. “I’ve never been to New York City, but I don’t hate the movie Mean Girls.”
“I want to study in New York City,” Piper says.
“What?,” Tammy asks. “Me, too.”
“I don’t care, I just want to study at Columbia or The New School,” she answers.
“I want to study law,” Tammy says.