Good Neighbors(14)
* * *
Gertie’s car pulled out. Julia watched it go. Just like that time with the Parliament Lights, her mom had offered her up like a sacrifice. A shield to take the blame. And now the kids knew that no one had her back. They could do anything they wanted.
The Rat Pack’s eyes were on her, boring through. She didn’t know why they’d started hating her. Only that Shelly had spearheaded it. Shelly, who’d been her best friend since practically day one. They used to prank Dave Harrison, pretending to be sexy Russian hookers. He figured it out, but let them keep doing it because it was so funny. Especially Shelly’s spelling: Chello! I want the rubles for the intercourse!? Jes? They used to stay up nights, talking about God and death and their dreams. Shelly wanted to be a doctor with a practice on Boylston Street, wherever that was. Julia didn’t know her dream yet. Regarding sex, Shelly wanted to wait until college. Julia thought it was okay to do before, but she didn’t know how it would work, because she hadn’t had her period yet and didn’t know how anybody was supposed to find a vagina amidst all that skin down there. Out of boredom one day, they’d discovered that it felt super good to straddle the arms of soft chairs. They also both liked sugar and lemon on their pancakes, not syrup.
They’d been inseparable. Spent practically a whole school year together. And then spring came. Sleepovers ended. Julia’s texts suddenly went unanswered. Shelly wasn’t ever home when Julia stopped by. One time in June, when Julia’d tried to join the Rat Pack in the park, they’d all run away from her. She’d waited, hoping it was a game. They must have sneaked behind the houses to avoid her, because pretty soon, she heard them all playing Deathcraft in the Ottomanellis’ den.
After that, it was over. Shelly pointed and called Loser when she saw Julia. Everybody went along with it. If she caught Dave Harrison or Charlie Walsh on their own, they might give her a wave, but otherwise, nothing.
The most upsetting part wasn’t getting dumped. It was the way Shelly turned evil. She used to be this really nice person who could read people easy as tarot cards. It was a kind of superpower. Julia’d be thinking about Larry, or about the possibility that the world was going to end before she ever even had the chance to vote. There’d be famine and war and girls would get bought and sold like sandwiches. She’d be all worried about stuff like that, and Shelly’d feel it. Relax, she’d say. And then, as a joke, We’ll always have Maple Street. In the old days, she’d defended kids like Larry. Told the whole school bus that if anybody imitated him, she’d reach down their mouths and pull out their stomachs. Back then, she’d only used her powers for the forces of good.
It was different now. She ruled the Rat Pack with an iron fist. Once, Julia heard her screaming at them out her window. She’d yelled so much her face turned red. The freaky part: it looked the same as crying. The older kids had walked away, but Lainee Hestia and Sam Singh had stuck around for it, covering their ears and balling themselves small. It’s wrong to do that; to go after the weak.
Julia never told her parents what happened. She was afraid that if she did, her mom would ask uptight Rhea about it, and Rhea’d know exactly what to say: Julia’s not good enough at spelling. She doesn’t take seat belts seriously. Remember how she smoked? She’s a bad influence. And then Gertie would go crazy. She’d love Julia even less than she already did.
Julia wanted to run home right now. Hide in the hot kitchen with Larry until her dad woke, like she’d been doing all summer. But there was a breeze out here. The trampoline looked fun. A Slip ’N Slide would be even better. Bathing suits and cold water. Laughter and ice pops. She had a right to those things, even if she wasn’t good or pretty or going someplace important like the rest of them. Even if she was just Julia.
* * *
All eyes were on her. She didn’t know what else to do. She stood her ground.
“How much does your mom’s car cost? Think I can buy it for a Snickers?” Shelly asked from the center of the trampoline. The rest of the Rat Pack sat on the edges or else stood just outside.
“It’s a car. It’s doesn’t have to be pretty. It just has to work,” Julia answered. “I don’t know why you’re so mean. I never did anything to you.”
“I’m not mean. You’re just a loser. And losers aren’t allowed,” Shelly answered. She was wearing a Free People plaid linen jumpsuit and matching long-sleeve linen blouse underneath, Free People socks, probably even day-of-the-week Free People underpants, too. For the heat, it was a lot of clothes.
“That’s not even your trampoline. It’s the Markles’s,” Julia said, tugging on her Hawaiian shirt.
“So?” Shelly asked as she started to bounce. She looked angrier than usual, which was saying something. Her elaborately braided hair rippled in dyssynchronous arcs like each one was alive. The kids sitting around her bobbed like buoys.
“So, you guys wouldn’t even be allowed out here if it wasn’t for my mom’s Slip ’N Slide. She’s the one who chilled your uptight parents out,” Julia called out across the Ottomanellis’ perfectly green lawn.
“We’re still not allowed. Shelly sneaked so I sneaked,” little Ella announced.
“Shut up,” Shelly answered as she started jumping: Plat! Plat! Plat! It echoed, that sound, and reminded Julia of all the stuff kids around here bragged about, like memberships to the town pool, season ski-lift tickets, and buttered popcorn with M&M’s mixed in at the movies. That trampoline was money.