sharp,” Avery reminded me, emphasizing the word sharp. “What are you wearing?”
We had made a trip to the mall a few days earlier to shop for back-to-school clothes, which was fun because Avery had a talent for finding stuff that looked great on me without being pushy about it.
“I was planning on wearing those dark pencil jeans and that blue tank top you picked out.”
“Perfect. I’m wearing my green shirt with that white denim skirt. What do you think?”
I knew Avery was asking me only as a courtesy, but I appreciated the effort. “Sounds great,” I said.
Avery and I had spent a lot of time together over the past week. Besides the mall, we’d been back to Giuseppe’s once for lunch and had run a few errands for her mom. She even tried to help me organize my closet one afternoon.
“You could hang everything by color,” she suggested as she surveyed the piles of clothes scattered across my room.
“Or I could just do what I always do,” I said, pointing. “Clean goes there and dirty goes over there.”
She laughed. “What’s that pile, then?”
“Almost dirty but clean enough to wear once more.”
“This is a lost cause, I think.” She rubbed her arms. “It’s cold up here.”
“I think this room gets most of the air-conditioning,” I said. “I can open a window, if you want.”
“No, that’s okay. I’m thirsty. Let’s go downstairs.”
Avery had been over twice, but I’d never given her the full tour of my house. Part of me was embarrassed by all the boxes stacked in the corners, but I was more concerned about the questions she’d ask once she saw the living room. Sure enough, after we’d grabbed sodas out of the fridge, she caught a glimpse of the computers and monitors and the hundreds of gray, tangled wires.
“Wow. What’s all this?”
“Oh. My parents make, um, documentaries,” I stammered. “They edit everything from home and then send it to their production company.”
“You’re kidding. What kind of documentaries?”
“Well, they just finished up filming one about, um, historic buildings in Charleston. Pretty boring stuff.”
That was basically true, I told myself. I hoped Avery didn’t notice how much I was hesitating. I was an awkward liar.
“Hey, maybe they can help us.” We had gone into the dining room to watch TV. “The cheerleaders are planning an amazing Homecoming week this year. We want to make a video postcard for the alumni. Maybe your folks could help us edit it?”
“Yeah, maybe. I’ll ask them later.”
My parents had been off at a nearby historical society in an attempt to gather information about local landmarks. I had no idea when they were coming back, but I really didn’t want Avery around asking them any questions. They’d have no problem revealing everything to her, and I wasn’t ready for that. So far, she saw me as a normal, slightly messy girl who trusted her fashion sense and liked pepperoni pizza. It was too soon to ask her to accept me as some sort of teenaged Ghostbuster, as well.
I was able to get Avery to leave before my parents came home, but I knew it wasn’t something I could keep up for too long. Eventually, she would run into them and the truth would come out. We’d been living in the house for three weeks, though, and so far, so good. Shane had been driving the “Doubt” van and kept it parked at his new apartment across town, and my parents were fully occupied with editing their Charleston footage.
Avery and I talked a little more about school the next day. After we hung up I yawned, my eyelids feeling heavy. Part of me wanted to remain on the floor and fall asleep right where I was, but I knew I should get up, wash my face and curl up under the warm covers.
“Too cold,” I mumbled.
A second later, I felt a warm sensation, almost as if someone was lowering a blanket onto me.
“Charlotte.” It was just a whisper, faint and far away. I was drifting in that hazy space between asleep and awake, but I felt tugged toward sleep and had the sense that I was sinking slowly. I felt cool grass beneath me, and I could smell jasmine in the air. I was back at the park in Charleston where Annalise and I had eaten lunch a few weeks before, near the same tree where the dark-haired girl in my dreams liked to read. I felt as if I was waiting for the girl to arrive. In fact, I felt sure that she would arrive at any moment, that I should stay exactly where I was.
“Charlotte?”
I opened my eyes. Mom was standing over me, looking down. I sat up, confused.
“I fell asleep,” I mumbled.
“You were talking.” Mom reached down and helped pull me up.
“What did I say?”
“I’m not sure. It was more like whispering.” Mom cocked her head to one side. “You okay?”
“Just tired. I’m going to bed now.” I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. When I returned, Mom had picked up the last of my dirty clothes, including Annalise’s pink sweater.
“I’ll take these downstairs for you,” she said. She leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Sleep well. See you in the morning.”
I got into bed and fell asleep almost immediately. It was a hard and dreamless sleep, and when I woke up early the next morning, I felt more rested than I had in weeks. I had the vague impression that something odd had occurred the night before, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Had I been dreaming?
As I showered, I decided that everything was fine. I’d experienced some strange sensations, but I was living in a new place and that was bound to happen. Maybe I was just extra sensitive to temperature in the South. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t that big of a deal. I wouldn’t let myself dwell on it. Besides, I had more important things to focus on.
It was time to introduce Charlotte Silver, Average Ordinary Girl, to the rest of the senior class.
five
Avery wasn’t kidding when she said seven-thirty sharp. I was just peeling a banana when I heard two quick honks of a car in the driveway. I glanced at the kitchen clock: 7:29.
“That’s my cue,” I said to Mom. She was still in her bathrobe, sitting at the kitchen counter and sipping a cup of coffee.
“Good luck, hon. Have a great day.”
I gathered up my backpack and left the house just as Avery honked once more. I slid into the passenger seat and smiled.
“A little impatient, aren’t we?”
She pulled out of the driveway. “Sorry. I hate being late, is all.”
I settled into my seat. “We’ve got plenty of time.”
My parents and I had driven past the school once, and it was no more than ten minutes from our house. Even if there was morning traffic, we would get to school with about half an hour to spare.
“You still need to pick up your schedule,” Avery reminded me. She had received hers in the mail the week before, but since I registered so late, I had to stop by the main office to pick up mine.
Avery chatted about some of her friends. “They’re really nice,” she said. “You’ll like them.”
“Are they all cheerleaders?”
She glanced at me. “Yes. But don’t worry. We’re not cliquey or snobby or anything. You’ll fit right in.”
“So they won’t try to recruit me? I’m highly uncoordinated. I can barely clap in rhythm.”
Avery grinned. “You may