Searching for Normal

by C. J. Darlington

  I wondered if my friends realized only one of those statements was true.

  Chapter 2

  I PUSHED OPEN THE DOOR to my aunt’s apartment and nearly jumped out of my skin. A huge, lanky dog leapt up from the floor and ran over to greet me, tail swinging and hitting everything it passed. The sofa, the end table, a stack of books—I scooted inside and shut the door.

  “Hey, there. Who are you?”

  The brindle-colored dog, whose head nearly reached my waist, sniffed me, then went to my suitcase. I knew right away he was a greyhound, but I did not know why he was in my aunt’s apartment.

  After a thorough inspection of my gear with his nose, the dog bounded off and grabbed a squeaky toy in the shape of a teddy bear. I knelt in front of him and grabbed for the toy, which seemed to please him to no end. He darted out of my reach and then stopped with the bear hanging from his mouth, as if waiting for me to try again. I did.

  When my aunt walked in a few minutes later, we were both still on the floor.

  “So you met him?” Aunt Laura dumped my duffel bag next to my suitcase and came over to us.

  “He’s adorable.”

  My aunt chuckled. “Sixty-eight pounds of sweetness. His name’s Stanley.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you got a dog?”

  Stanley ran over to my aunt.

  “Wanted to surprise you.”

  I stood up. I’d forgotten all about being tired while I played with the dog, but the blanket of exhaustion draped over me once again.

  Aunt Laura held up a hand. “Before you get too excited, he’s a foster. Not actually mine.”

  Stanley bounded to me again, leaning against my leg and throwing me off balance. His chocolate eyes stared into mine. After Panda, my black Lab, died, I’d begged first my dad and then my grandparents for a dog. I thought I’d finally talked them into it, but then I got in trouble and any talk of pets tanked with my hope. My aunt knew all this.

  “How long do you have him?”

  “Could be a few days or a few weeks.” Aunt Laura smiled. “So basically, don’t get too attached.”

  Like that was going to be easy. I was already smitten. “But don’t greyhounds chase cats?”

  My aunt’s tortoiseshell cat, Matilda, often roamed the bookstore, but she always returned to the apartment at the end of the day. When I was here, she usually slept on my bed.

  “Not all of them,” Aunt Laura said. “He was cat-tested and gives Matilda her space. All it took was one swipe at his nose to remind him of his place.”

  I dropped onto the sofa and sighed. Speaking of space, the apartment was barely large enough for my aunt. Me showing up had to cramp her lifestyle. The second bedroom had been her office and library, and she’d had to put stuff in storage so I could have a place to sleep.

  “I’m sorry about all this,” I said.

  “About what?”

  “Me.”

  My aunt crossed her arms. “Shay.”

  “This isn’t what you signed up for.”

  Sitting down beside me, Aunt Laura took a moment before she spoke. Stanley immediately jumped up and positioned himself between us, his warm head resting on my lap. I stroked his velvety ears. It was probably better to get this conversation over with.

  “Listen, kid.” Aunt Laura pet Stanley too. “You didn’t sign up for this either. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make it work.”

  Grams’s words about my aunt sacrificing to keep me here rang in my ears. The last thing I wanted was to be a burden, but that was clearly what I was. Aunt Laura was an independent businesswoman who’d purposely kept her life simple and no-nonsense to pursue her passion. Throwing a teenager in the mix was a recipe for disappointment. Just ask my grandmother.

  Aunt Laura gave my leg a quick pat. “It’ll work.”

  I nodded, but I didn’t really believe it. Lately it felt like everything I touched ended up tainted. I couldn’t even figure out how to act properly in drama class. Maybe I’d never fit in.

  “Let’s give it our best shot, okay?”

  I’d given my best at my grandparents’. Look where that got me.

  “Your friends were asking about you earlier.” Aunt Laura got up and walked over to the kitchen area of the open-floor-plan room that was also the living room and dining room, and now my aunt’s office, too.

  “I caught up with them.”

  “They seem like nice girls.”

  “Yep.” I pulled out my phone and was about to scroll through my YouTube feed, but then caught my aunt’s disapproving glance. I imagined it was what my mother, Aunt Laura’s older sister, would’ve done, though there was no way for me to know for sure. She’d died when I was a baby.

  “You met them in drama class, right?”

  I tried to remember if I’d spoken to any of the girls before then or not. I’d seen them around, but I think that was it. I’d been so self-conscious for most of the class I could barely remember their names afterward, but Amelia pulled me over to their lunch table the next day, and I hadn’t eaten lunch in peace since. I smiled at the thought. I didn’t mind having friends. Not at all. But sometimes I just wanted to be alone.

  “They didn’t know I wasn’t living with you,” I say softly.

  My aunt opened the fridge and pulled out a take-out container. “What had you told them?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “They just assumed.”

  “Well, I’ve known them longer than you.” Aunt Laura pointed at the container and then at me. I shook my head. “Millie’s my magazine girl, though I think she bought a novel last time she was here.”

  “Amelia.”

  “Hmm?”

  “She prefers Amelia, not Millie.”

  Aunt Laura popped the container in the microwave. “Izzy’s definitely my best cookbook customer, and Tessa . . . she doesn’t usually buy anything. Just browses or does her schoolwork, but that’s okay.”

  Sounded like my friends. We didn’t exactly live in a small town, but I guess owning a bookstore gave you insight on at least the people who frequented your establishment, and my aunt had been here six years.

  I surreptitiously pulled up YouTube again on my phone. My recommendations were mostly animal related, and the first one grabbed my interest. “Mason King coming to a town near you!” It was a video marketing the tour schedule for one of my favorite horse trainers. I clicked on the preview. My aunt gave me another look, but this time she just turned on the microwave.

  Aunt Laura came over to the sofa again as the video played. She set her silverware and a glass of water on the end table. She wasn’t really much of a cook. She could make some basic dishes . . . pasta, stir fry, salad. Mostly she just ate out or ordered in, but I knew she wanted to make changes in that department now that I was here.

  I turned the phone toward her, hoping that by sharing it would make it okay to be watching a video when I probably should be having a conversation. The promo continued to play, showing Mason working a horse in a round pen. Then there was a shot of him riding a horse deemed too dangerous to handle, in an arena crammed with fans.

  “He’s like America’s Clinton Anderson,” I said, referencing a popular Australian horse trainer.

  Something changed on my aunt’s face as she watched a few seconds of the video. Her eyes narrowed. “This is the trainer you were telling me about?”

  “I wish he was coming somewhere close to us,” I said softly and then got out of YouTube after the video finished. I didn’t want to ruffle my aunt any more than I apparently had, though I couldn’t figure out what I’d done.

  “I’m glad he’s not.”

  “What? Why?”

  The microwave dinged, and Aunt Laura went over and pulled out her steaming meal of leftovers. The smell of pad Thai wafted toward me and made me regret not accepting the offer to share. I’d have to find something else for dinner.

  Aunt Laura didn’t answer me, and I wasn’t sure if I should press her.

  “I’ve never liked those types o
f trainers,” she said. “Selling halters with their logos for fifty bucks when you can get them for ten without. Seems dishonest.”

  “Not if they’re good quality.”

  “Making promises they can’t keep.” Aunt Laura sat down on the couch, and Stanley immediately turned around and faced her, his nose sniffing the air. Maybe he liked Thai food as well.

  “Luring in unsuspecting women who are more than happy to shell out their cash and buy his overpriced, overhyped training system, saddles, and who knows what else!”

  I turned toward my aunt, not sure where her outrage was coming from. She’d never acted particularly interested in horses, and I didn’t realize she knew enough about them to even have this argument. I tried not to act like I felt miffed that she was criticizing a horseman I’d admired for years. I know the horse industry certainly had its share of con men—didn’t any industry? But Mason King was different. It was clear he actually cared about the horses, and the results he accomplished were real.

  “Sorry,” Aunt Laura said.

  “He’s not like that.”

  “And how do you know?”

  “I . . .” It wasn’t like I knew the man personally, but still; I knew.

  “Just remember not to believe everything on the Internet.”

  I almost rolled my eyes. She was talking to me like I was five, not fifteen. But I didn’t want to spoil the evening or give my aunt any reason to regret my presence.

  “I’ll be in my room,” I said, deciding to unpack my things and cool down.

  A few minutes later, bedroom door closed, I still hadn’t unpacked. I dropped onto the bed and lay on my back trying to decide what was bothering me.

  Chapter 3

  AMELIA HAD LEFT HER PHONE in the bookstore. The next morning as I was about to head out the door, Aunt Laura dangled it in front of me, and with an eye roll I stuffed it into my backpack. I hadn’t slept well but didn’t tell my aunt.

  I walked to school most days; my choice now that I lived close enough. It was my thinking time, and I could be completely alone with my thoughts. I steered around a parka-bundled man clutching a thermal coffee mug. He looked like an Alaskan malamute or a Siberian husky that belonged in the arctic tundra.

  My phone chirped as a text came in. Then it chirped again. I’d think it was Amelia if I didn’t already have her phone. She’d sent me eight out of the ten Snapchat messages last night. I hadn’t responded to any of them. Maybe I was a Luddite after all.

  The text read: Forgot phone!!! Help!!! Texting from my mom’s!

  I quickly tapped a reply: Got it. Will bring.

  THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! She included five different emojis. A wild smiley face, hands clapping, a birthday cake (no idea why), a thumbs-up, and her favorite for whenever she texted me: a dog. Her emoji love drove Tessa nuts, but in a silly way they actually made me happier.

  The walk to school was cold, and I stuffed my hands in my coat pockets, where I’d stashed two hand warmers courtesy of my aunt. I still felt like a waddling penguin when I arrived at school. Maybe I could get over myself and ask Tessa to pick me up on the really cold mornings now that she had her license.

  Someone bumped me in the shoulder.

  Two junior girls, Kelsey and Jade, stepped into my field of vision, and my stomach clenched. I wasn’t sure why they seemed to have it in for me. Last week I was almost sure one of them tried to trip me in the cafeteria, but I couldn’t prove it.

  “Hey,” Kelsey said, flipping her Irish setter mane of auburn hair over her shoulder and rewrapping her cashmere scarf around her neck. “Almost didn’t see you.”

  I shifted my backpack. “Cold enough?”

  I hate how I resort to small talk when I’m uncomfortable, but in the moment it’s what came out.

  Kelsey laughed, and her sidekick, Jade, who could’ve been the little sister of that actress who played Mulan, echoed. Both of them wore down parkas with fur trim that definitely weren’t from L.L.Bean, though I noted a stray feather pushing through the seam near Jade’s elbow. For some reason that was satisfying.

  “What’d you say?” Kelsey said.

  “Nothing.”

  Jade glanced at Kelsey. “I’m toasty warm. You?”

  “Totally,” Kelsey said. “But I didn’t walk to school.”

  No, you didn’t. You both got your own cars from your daddies the day you turned sixteen, and you let me know it the first day I got here.

  “I like to walk,” I said.

  Kelsey gave me a compassionless look, one that said I was pathetic.

  “It’s refreshing,” I said. I was trying to sound much more confident than I felt. I knew what they were doing, but I could never bring myself to stop them.

  “Exercise never hurt anyone,” I added.

  “Certainly not you,” Kelsey said.

  “Watch out,” Jade chimed in. “Hang out with big girls and you end up looking like them.”

  Wait, is she making fun of Amelia, too?

  I hated that I didn’t stick up for her in that moment, but I was too mortified to respond. I’d never been a skinny girl, but I wasn’t overweight. At least I didn’t think so. I tried to step away from the girls, but they placed themselves directly in my path on the sidewalk.

  “Got long underwear on under those jeans?” Kelsey waved at my pants, a newer pair of Wranglers my grandparents bought me when I first went to live with them. I loved them because I could wear them to school and ride in them too—if I ever wanted. Not that I’d had much chance to ride, let alone even see a horse for a long time.

  “That might explain the extra padding,” Jade said.

  “I’m not that cold,” I said.

  “So you do wear long underwear.” Jade pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of me before I could object.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey what? You’re lookin’ good. Don’t ya want the world—or even better, the boys—to see? Oh . . . wait.” Jade gave her friend a conspiratorial glance. “Maybe that’s not an issue for you.”

  I closed my eyes for a split second as I felt a fire sparking inside of me. I was just trying to be myself. I didn’t choose my clothes for attention potential.

  “Nah, she doesn’t have to worry about that,” Kelsey said.

  Jade was already poking at her phone, posting the photo who knows where before she walked into school. I glanced down at myself, rethinking my clothing choices. I wore my waterproof hiking boots and a Carhartt coat over my hoodie. It wasn’t like our school was in the ritziest area of town or anything. Other girls wore jeans. But maybe I should try to fit in a little bit and at least buy a pair of . . . well . . . a pair of what? I didn’t even know what was “it” these days to have a clue what would blend in. And really, that’s all I wanted. To melt into the background and be left alone.

  “Read any good books lately?” Kelsey stood a couple of inches above me, and it almost seemed like this morning she was standing on tiptoes to appear even taller.

  “I gotta get going,” I said.

  “But I thought you loved books.”

  “We’re gonna be late.”

  Kelsey glanced at her iPhone. “Chill. There’s time.”

  “So seriously,” Jade said. “Any recommendations?” She flipped her hair like Kelsey had earlier, and I tried not to envy how dark and beautiful it was. Is it naturally lustrous, or does she do something to it? I thought of my grandmother scolding me for not covering my head in the rain, and I hoped the frizz hadn’t carried over into today. I’d simply brushed mine and pulled it back into a ponytail like I always did.

  I shrugged. “Haven’t read much lately.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just ’cause.”

  Kelsey nodded toward Jade. “Maybe a self-help title. Something on how to be pretty when you’re not.”

  “Or living with relatives who aren’t your parents,” Jade said. “What would you recommend along those lines? I bet your aunt has a million of those in stock.”

  The an
gry fire rose in me again. I could feel it swelling in my belly, and I didn’t stop it. I knew I should, but I didn’t.

  “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Kelsey’s eyebrows lowered as she fiddled with her scarf once more.

  “Too soon, right?” Jade tucked her phone away. “I can sometimes be insensitive like that. I forgot you’ve only been here a couple of months. I gotta know though. Why don’t your parents want you?”

  I swallowed. “They wanted me.”

  “Then why aren’t you living with them?”

  “My dad was a single parent.” The second I said it, I regretted my words. They didn’t deserve to know anything about me, much less something personal. It would only be ammunition.

  “What, your mom ditched you?”

  Kelsey elbowed Jade. “Be nice. That must’ve been tough.” There was a note of what sounded like real sympathy in her tone, but I knew better. I also know better than to let them goad me, but how am I supposed to stop it? Walking away would make me look weak, and people like them prey on that. But standing up for myself was also asking for trouble and might make them push me even more.

  “Not growing up with a mom to talk to must’ve been hard too.” Jade smiled. “Did your dad teach you about periods and stuff?”

  Kelsey pretended to punch Jade’s arm. “Ew, awkward!”

  The fire burned stronger, and now I felt an embarrassed blush hitting my cheeks. Who else was supposed to teach me? My dad had always been cool about stuff like that and made sure I was comfortable in a potentially weird situation, but still.

  I squared my shoulders and stared into Kelsey’s green eyes. She stared back. I saw something in them then. It was the intense look of a cat before she sprung on a mouse, and Kelsey clearly thought I was the rodent.

  “Get out of my way,” I said, trying not to clench my teeth. I kept my voice even and calm, but it was becoming harder to shove down the fire. Breathe. That’s what my grandmother had advised me, probably wisdom from a yoga class or something.

  But I didn’t feel like breathing. I felt like punching.