Impossible Things (16 page)

I wondered if Mr. McMaran would take all the pictures down again. Maybe if we all stuck together as a class, he'd listen to us. Then again, maybe not.

All I knew was that sometimes things didn't turn out the way you expected. A few weeks ago, I was Cathidy Thilver, school freak with no friends. And now look at me: If I made any more friends, I wouldn't have enough fingers to count them on.

On Friday, Victoria showed up at school with a huge grin on her face.

I looked at her glumly. “Quit smiling. It's a day of mourning here at Parkside.” I'd worn all black: black jeans and a black jacket over a plain black T-shirt. No words, out of respect for the sadness of the occasion. I'd brought my
Nobody Knows I'm Elvis
shirt as a good-bye gift for Ms. Allyson. I figured she would appreciate it.

I made a face at Victoria. “It's the last day of freedom and learning and—”

“Hush,” she said, giggling. “Guess what?”

“What?”

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled something out.

“A postcard?”

“From Rick.” She handed it to me. “From Vancouver. He's moved out west.”

I took the postcard from her: A bunch of orca whales jumping out of the water with snowy mountains in the background. I flipped it over and read out loud: “Dear Vicky, Sorry if I upset you the other day. Decided your smart-mouthed friend was right and it was time for a fresh start. Wish me luck, Rick.”

She was nodding and smiling.

“Your smart-mouthed friend?” I repeated. “He called me smart-mouthed?”

“Isn't it great though? I hope he really can get a fresh start out there.”

“Me too,” I said. I meant it, but I wasn't going to hold my breath waiting for him to get it together. Mostly I was just glad that he was two thousand miles away.

When the bell rang at three twenty, I hung back.

Ms. Allyson stood beside her desk, smiling. “Cassidy.”

All of sudden I felt kind of stupid. She wouldn't want my old T-shirt. I fumbled in my briefcase anyway and pulled it out, neatly folded and in a plastic bag. “It's my Elvis shirt. I thought maybe you might like to have it.” I shrugged, embarrassed. “It's clean. I mean, I washed it and everything.” Duh.

Her face lit up. “Really? Are you sure?” She walked over to me, took the bag, pulled the T-shirt out and held it up against herself. “I love it. And it'll fit too. Thank you so much.”

“No problem.” I hesitated. “It's been really nice having you as a teacher.”

She smiled. “I meant every word I said about your writing, you know. I hope you'll keep it up.”

I nodded. “I will.”

“Good.”

“Well, I guess I'll see you around,” I said, taking a step backward.

“Wait a minute.” She opened her desk drawer. “I have something for you too.”

I blushed. “Um, you don't have to give me something just because I gave you an old T-shirt.”

“No, no. I know that. Hold on a sec.” She pulled out a book. “I want you to have this.”

I held out my hand and took it. It was a red leather notebook filled with lined pages. “For me to write in?”

She nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”

Outside, the sun was shining. The temperature had crept up above zero and was hovering there. The snow was melting, and I could hear the dripping and tinkling of water running into the gutters. I sat down on the bottom step, opened the notebook and traced the faint blue lines with my fingertip. The book was so beautiful it was hard to bring myself to write in it. I didn't know where to start. I sat there for a moment, feeling the sun's warmth on my face. Then I started writing. I began in the same place I'd begun before.
Who is Cassidy Silver?
I studied the words for a moment, and then I grinned.
I am,
I wrote.
I am Cassidy Silver
.

Robin Stevenson grew up in England and Ontario, and now lives in Victoria, BC. She is the author of several other novels for children and teens, including
Out of Order, Dead In the Water
and
Big Guy
. More information about Robin is available on her website:
www.robinstevenson.com.