If You Find Me(33)

For a moment, I almost forget how the date of my classroom debut’s rapidly approaching.

“You’ll start on December first, and there’ll only be a few weeks until Christmas break. It’ll give you a chance to dip your feet in the water without being overwhelmed,” Melissa had said, brave enough for both of us.

I don’t know. I don’t know how it’s going to be. All I know is, if I want to be normal, I’m going to have to work at acting normal. Talking normal.

Fake it through until I make it true.





8


“You have to sit still if you want me to braid your hair like mine.”

Jenessa is excited to be going into town, and she squirms under my hands. Shorty lies next to her on my bed, pushing her hand with a wet nose each time she stops scratching his back.

“You girls almost ready?”

My father peeks in through the open door and grins at the two of us.

“Yes sir,” I say, braiding a little faster. My fingers trip over a turn and I let that part out, rebraiding the strands so there are no bumps.

Downstairs, sitting on the couch, my heart beats fast, thinking of those test results. What if we failed? What if we’re stupid for real and they don’t want us anymore?

“Is she going to be in any of my classes?” Delaney stops to talk to my father on her way to the living room. “She won’t, right, because she’ll be, like, a freshman, and I’ll be a sophomore. Better yet, if they keep her back a grade, we’ll be in two separate schools,” she adds, perking up at the thought.

“Mrs. Haskell will let us know. I haven’t seen the test results yet myself.”

My father is clean-shaven and chipper. Chipper: his word. I sneak a longer look at him. He winks back.

“Sometimes the fourteen-year-olds end up in sophomore English,” Delaney says, fretting. “If she ends up in sophomore English, can she be put in a different period?”

I don’t know him well enough yet, but I can sense Delaney is wearing on his last nerve.

“She’s your sister, Delaney. You’d think a girl would want to help her sister,” my father says.

Delaney glares at him.

“She’s not my sister! She’s not even my real half sister. If Mom had let me keep my bio father’s name, no one at school would even know—”

“They’re registered under their mother’s maiden name. So your secret is safe. Go clean up your room, Del. Your mom said it’s a disaster area.”

It’s a voice I hope he never has reason to use on me.

“Ashley is having everyone over for study group. I go every Thursday afternoon, and stay for dinner. You know that.”

“You can do your homework here tonight, in your room.”

“That’s so unfair! Mom!”

I watch Melissa through the window glass, raking leaves.

“Life’s unfair. Now, march!”

Nessa shrinks against me when Delaney stomps by, her nostrils flaring like the devi l himself. I glare right back at her. I’ve seen scarier things in the woods. So has Ness.

I think of my father’s words, saying we’re sisters. I hadn’t given it much thought, nor had I framed it that way in my mind.

But he’s right. Only, we’re stepsisters, like Melissa said. We share no blood.

“C’mon, Ness. I don’t want to make us late.”

Nessa follows me outside, with Shorty bringing up the rear. Melissa holds the hound by the collar, where he pulls and whines and complains in a chortling howl.

“Not today, old man. You can ride with me tomorrow,” my father says, affection smoothing his words.

The drive to Mrs. Haskell’s office is quick, now that we know the way. We sit in the waiting room, Nessa flipping through a picture book, The Tiptoe Guide to Fairies, from the rack on the wall. I wonder if she misses the wood fairies, the only friends she’s ever had, besides me.

“Hello, folks. Come on in.”

Jenessa runs up for her hug. Mrs. Haskell gulps the rest of her coffee and gets right to the point.

“You will be pleased to know that both girls scored out of their age groups, Mr. Benskin. Jenessa, going by your age, you should be in first grade. You’ve tested as a second-month third grader.”

I beam at Ness, who smiles sweetly, not grasping the terms but knowing it’s something right proud. My father slaps his knee and grins.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“You did a great job, Carey, at keeping up both your educations. You, my dear, tested as a solid eleventh grader. Both of you scored two grades ahead of your peers.”

My father smiles at me now, and I force a grin, my face feeling funny. Especially when I think of Delaney.

“What does it mean?” I ask, skeptical.

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll recommend placing each of you ahead one grade. That way, you won’t be too far out of your age groups. If the material is too easy, we’ll revisit the situation in the future. What’s most important is your social adjustment.”

She turns to my father.

“While I believe the girls could keep up academically if they were placed two years ahead, they also need to fit in emotionally. Taking their history into account, and Nessa’s speech impediment, I feel that placing them ahead one grade is a solid compromise. That would be my recommendation to the court.”