Pretend She's Here(37)

To not lose it, she meant. To not forget who you’re supposed to be.

“She’s right,” Mr. Porter said. “You’ve got to be ready to rock and roll, to be as excellent as you always are.”

He so rarely said anything to me. From the very beginning, I’d figured having me here wasn’t something he even wanted. It was pretty obvious he was just going along with his wife. When I glanced over at him now, I saw a glimmer of encouragement in his eyes. Was he talking to Lizzie or Emily? Referring to her excellence or mine? Since those first few days, he never called me by name. Either way, I reluctantly welcomed his encouragement.

I forced myself to eat a few bites of eggs before Chloe jumped up and grabbed her backpack. She threw me a glance, then handed me the black leather satchel Lizzie had always carried to school.

“Come on, we’ve got to catch the bus,” she said.

“Now listen,” Mrs. Porter said, standing in front of me, holding my face between her hands. “I thought about driving you but decided it’s important you blend in right away. We’re in a rural area, and everyone takes the bus. Don’t disappoint me, promise?”

“I promise.” Did I have another choice?

“I might take a ride past school throughout the day, just to make sure you’re settling in. I wouldn’t want to see … well, anything out of the ordinary. Police cars, for example.”

“You won’t,” I said quickly.

She kissed my forehead. “I know. I trust you. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it. Now, have a great day, sweetie! I’ll be waiting right here at 3:30.”

Chloe and I walked out the front door, across the front yard, and down the narrow, twisting country road. I looked for Casey, but he wasn’t at the bus stop. He wasn’t aboard when we climbed on, but I noticed the bearded boy from his band sitting behind the driver. Chloe squeezed my hand, then hurried to the back of the bus to sit with some kids I hadn’t seen before. I sat alone, about midway back, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. No one said hi, but their faces looked friendly.

The bus ride twisted along roads I’d never seen before. I pressed my face to the glass, looking at farms and barns, rocky hills, glimpses of blue saltwater bays, just like a tourist. At the next stop, a girl my age got on and plunked herself down in the seat beside me.

I glanced over. She had dark brown skin and big brown eyes. She was studying me.

“You’re new!” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

“We never get anyone new. This is great. I’m Carole.”

My voice caught in my throat. Besides Casey, I hadn’t spoken to anyone but the Porters in over a month. She was a total stranger, and I wanted to grab her by the lapels and start pouring my heart out. My whole body was shaking.

“I’m …” My teeth were chattering as I forced myself to say the name. “Lizzie.”

“Oh, yeah, now I’ve got it. You’re the world traveler. Been all through Europe.”

I couldn’t speak. Mrs. Porter had mapped out a whole, lovely lie for me to tell, and she’d spread it around, and all I had to do was carry it forth.

“Yes, I just got back.” The words sounded so phony, I nearly gagged.

“Are you feeling better?” Carole asked.

“Better?” I asked, my mouth dry.

“It must have been awful to be so sick, far from home.”

“Oh, you knew about that?”

“There are no secrets in this town. Everybody knows everything,” Carole said.

“Really?” I asked, thinking if only she knew.

Carole’s glistening black hair was twisted up into a knot. She wore a maroon down jacket, navy leggings, and pale blue Uggs with little grosgrain bows lacing up the back. “Sophomore, right?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I said. “But starting two months late.”

“I’m in your class. I’ll help you out if you need it.” She pulled out her iPhone. “Let me text you so you’ll have my number.”

“I forgot my phone,” I said quickly. This could be a major problem. How could I tell people I didn’t have a cell phone? Everyone had phones. It was killing me that I didn’t have mine.

“Here you go,” Carole said, writing her info down in her notebook, tearing out the page, and handing it to me. Carole Dean. She was so open, so friendly, and I was such a liar. I was a complete fake, not a real person at all. I couldn’t even look her in the eye as I accepted the paper with her phone number on it.

The bus pulled into a circular driveway in front of an old stone Gothic-looking mansion-type building. The doors opened and we all got off. Carole walked ahead of me, toward the wide, curving granite steps of the school. I followed her, but Chloe caught up and grabbed my arm.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I think so,” I said.

“Carole’s nice,” Chloe said. “And her mom’s our doctor. Mom had to make an excuse about why they didn’t take you to her when you had your ‘virus.’”

“What’s the excuse, in case she asks?”

“That Uncle Jim treated you.”

“Who’s Uncle Jim?”

“Mom’s imaginary brother who’s an imaginary doctor. He cleared you to start school.”