Forever for a Year by B. T. Gottfred
Part One
STRANGERS FOR A WEEK
1
Carrie will now be Carolina
It was my idea for us to start using our full names. It was going to help us take ourselves more seriously now that we were starting high school. It’s like I used to be Carrie, this awkward eighth grader, but now I was going to be Carolina, this amazing freshman. Oh my gosh, this sounds so dumb when I say it like that. Never mind.
Wait a minute. Just because I didn’t want to be geeky Carrie anymore didn’t mean Carolina wasn’t going to be a good student. She was. I mean, I was. Obviously. I mean, school was still the most important thing. By far. And if you ask me, I wasn’t really a geek in junior high. I’m super normal. It’s just that other people thought my best friend, Peggy, and I were geeks, so we didn’t really argue with them. Can you even do that? Argue with popular people on how they categorize you? Maybe you can, though it probably would have just made us even bigger geeks in their eyes. Gosh! Why was I worrying about this NOW? It was the first day of high school and I had to get ready! I mean, I was totally ready. I had been waiting by the front door for twenty minutes for Peggy and her sister to pick me up. But, you know, get ready in my mind. Because this year was going to change my life. I just knew it.
So I sat and pictured (“envisioned” might be the better word) how today would go in my head. Except the horrible stuff that happened with my dad earlier kept popping into my brain and I got mad at him again, and suddenly I felt like I was going to cry (again) and if that happened, I was sure my first day would be ruined, which might ruin my entire existence. Wait a minute! I reminded myself that I’m in control, that I’m super smart, that my dad was part of my past, not my future, and then I felt better.
And then I heard the honk. And even though nobody could have gotten out to the car faster than I did, Katherine honked again. Katherine is Peggy’s sister. She’s not very patient. Or nice. In fact, she’s kind of a lunatic. But she has a car, and if I did everything she said, I wouldn’t have to take the bus. And taking the bus is for losers. At least that’s what Katherine said.
By the way, Peggy’s new name is Marguerite. It’s not her new name. It’s on her birth certificate, just like Carolina is on mine, but nobody knows it’s her name. Except me, because we’re best friends, remember? Peggy wouldn’t go by her longer name unless Katherine said it was okay. See, Katherine was a junior, and always tan and really pretty when she wore lots of makeup, and—most important to Peggy (and maybe me)—Katherine was super popular. Maybe the most popular girl ever to go to Riverbend High School. And since Peggy wanted to be cooler in high school even more than I did, Peggy wouldn’t go by Marguerite unless Katherine said it was okay. Which she did.
I would’ve become Carolina no matter what Katherine said. Because I was ready.
*
“What’s wrong?” Peggy asked as I got in the back seat of the Civic, which Katherine had painted CRAPMOBILE on the side of with nail polish. (I’m gonna have to learn to call Peggy Marguerite in my head, aren’t I?) Anyway, Peggy/Marguerite knew something was wrong even though I had hoped I was over it because Peggy has known me since before time began. (Actually, fourth grade.) I should stop exaggerating for effect. I’m in high school now. High schoolers don’t do that. Maybe they do. I don’t know. But they shouldn’t. They should be mature enough to just tell the truth as it is. Which is what I’m going to do.
I said, “Nothing,” to Peggy. She knew it was not nothing, but she also knew my “nothing” meant I didn’t want to talk about what was wrong right then. I mean, I kind of did, but not in front of Katherine. I wanted to tell Peggy ALL about how my dad had ruined my first/last/only morning before my first day of high school. But Peggy knew to drop it for now, because she’s amazing, and changed the subject.
“Guess what? Katherine talked to her friend Elizabeth Shunton, who’s the older sister of Shannon Shunton, and told her to tell Shannon that she should be our friend this year.”
Katherine, who was driving like a person who thought looking at the road was optional, grinned. “I’m gonna make you two the hottest chicks in the freshman class. You watch. You will love me.”
I smiled at Peggy, pretending to be excited about being friends with Shannon Shunton. Because I was so not excited. Shannon Shunton was the most popular girl in eighth grade, and I suppose she would be the most popular freshman, but I didn’t care about being popular. (Okay, I’m lying! I totally already admitted I wanted to be popular.) But, and I mean this, I don’t care about it if it means pretending to want to be friends with Shannon Shunton. Who is the meanest person ever. She could make you cry just by rolling her eyes at you. How could you be friends with someone like that?
Katherine started giving us a lecture on how we should walk through the halls, where we should sit in the cafeteria, what boys we should talk to (soccer players yes, football players maybe, band members no), and how she knew we were both good students, but maybe we shouldn’t try too hard or it would make us look geeky. This is the dumbest thing ever said. But probably true. This is why I shouldn’t care about being popular! Or boys! Or any of it!
Riverbend High School, which most kids call The Bend, came into view as we turned right past the bank onto Kirby Street. It looked huge. Peggy (I mean, Marguerite) and I came here most of July for soccer camp, but it was empty during the summer, like a ghost school. But now we were pulling into the parking lot and there were so many cars and kids, and they were so tall, and looked like they were thirty years old even though they could only be four years older than me. My stomach started eating my insides. This is what happens when I get nervous. My stomach becomes an alien and eats all my organs and I almost die. Yes, I exaggerated, okay! I’m sorry. Gosh.