Please. Shes nowhere near thin enough to be a model,
Gretchen hissed bitterly, before catching herself and adding, Of
course I think shes pretty, if you go for that exotic, voluptuous
look. But shes nothing compared to her twin, Jasonor her cousin!
Lucas is just unreal, she gushed.
The boys shared a knowing look, but silently agreed that they
were outnumbered by girls and should probably let it go.
Jason is almost too pretty, Claire decided solemnly, after giving
it a moments thought. Lucas, however, is an über-babe. Quite
possibly the most beautiful boy Ive ever seen. And Ariadne is a
stone-cold fox, Gretchen. Youre just jealous.
Gretchen gave an exasperated huff and rested a fist on her hip.
Like youre not, was all she had for a comeback.
Of course I am. Im almost as jealous of her as I am of Lennie.
But not quite. Helen felt Claire turn to her to see her response, but
28/395
she had her elbows on the table and her head cradled in her hands,
rubbing her temples.
Lennie? Matt said, sitting down next to her. Does your head
hurt? He reached out to touch her shoulder. She stood up abruptly,
muttering an excuse, and hurried away.
By the time she got to the girls room she felt better, but she
splashed a little cold water on her face for good measure. Then she
remembered that she had put mascara on that morning in an attempt
to make an effort. She looked at her raccoon eyes in the mirror
and burst out laughing. This was the worst first day of school
ever.
Somehow she made it through the last three periods, and when
the bell finally rang she gratefully made her way to the girls locker
room to change for track practice.
Coach Tar was all fired up. She gave an embarrassingly optimistic
speech about their chances to win races that year and told them
how much she believed in them, both as athletes and as young women.
Then she turned to Helen.
Hamilton. Youll be running with the boys this year, Coach said
bluntly. She told everyone to hit the trail.
Helen sat on the bench for a moment, debating her options while
everyone else filed out the door. She didnt want to make a fuss,
but she was mortified by the thought of having to cross the gender
line. The muscles in her lower abdomen started to spasm.
Go talk to her! Dont let her push you around, Claire said indignantly
as she left.
Confused and afraid she was going to get a bellyache, Helen nodded
and stood up.
Coach Tar? Cant we just do it the way we always do? she called
out. Coach Tar stopped and turned around to listen, but she didnt
look happy about it. I mean, why cant I just train with the rest of
the girls? Because I am a girl, Helen finished lamely.
29/395
Weve decided that you need to start pushing yourself more,
Coach Tar responded in a cold voice. Helen had always gotten the
feeling that Coach didnt like her much, and now she was sure of it.
But Im not a boy. Its not fair to make me run cross-country
with them, Helen tried to argue. She jabbed two fingers into the
spot between her belly button and her pubic bone.
Cramps? Coach Tar asked, a touch of sympathy creeping into
her voice. Helen nodded and Coach continued. Coach Brant and I
have noticed something interesting about your times, Helen. No
matter who youre running against, no matter how fast or slow
your opponents are, you always come in either second or third.
How can that be? Do you have an answer?
No. I dont know. I just run, okay? I try my best.
No, you dont, Coach said harshly. And if you want a scholarship
youre going to have to start winning races. I talked to Mr.
Hergeshimer. . . . Helen groaned out loud, but Coach Tar continued,
undeterred. Its a small school, Hamilton, get used to it. Mr.
Hergeshimer told me that you were hoping for an athletic scholarship,
but if you want one youre going to have to earn it. Maybe forcing
you to match the boys will teach you to take your talent
seriously.
The thought of displaying her speed for the world to see had a
physical effect on Helen. She was so afraid that she was going to
get some kind of cramp or bellyache that she started to have a mini
panic attack. She began to babble. Ill do it, Ill win races, just
please dont single me out like that, she pleaded, the words tumbling
out in a rush as she held her breath to hold back the pain.
Coach Tar was a hard-ass, but she wasnt cruel. Are you okay?
she asked anxiously, rubbing Helen between her shoulder blades.
Put your head between your legs.
Im okay, its just nerves, Helen explained through gritted
teeth. After catching her breath she continued, If I swear to win
more races, will you let me run with the girls?
30/395
Coach Tar studied Helens desperate face and nodded, a bit
shaken from witnessing such an intense panic attack. She let Helen
go to the girls trailhead, but warned her that she still expected
wins. And more than just a few.
As she ran the trail, Helen looked at the ground. An academic
scholarship would be great but that would mean competing with
Claire for grades, and that was out of the question.
Hey, Giggles, Helen said, easily catching up. Claire was panting
and sweating away already.
What happened? God, its so hot! she exclaimed, her breath
strained.
I think the entire faculty is trying to see if they can climb up
onto my back at the same time.
Welcome to my life, Claire wheezed. Japanese kids grow
up . . . with at least two . . . people up there. . . . You get used to it.
After a few more labored moments of trying to keep up with Helen,
Claire added, Can we . . . slow down? Not all of us are from . . .
planet Krypton.
Helen adjusted her pace, knowing that she could pull ahead in
the last half mile. She rarely exerted herself in practice but she
knew that even without trying hard she could easily finish first.
That fact scared her, so she did what she usually did when the subject
of her freaky speed came up in her head. She ignored it and
chatted with Claire.
As the two girls ran down Surfside and out across the moors to
Miacomet Pond, Claire couldnt stop talking about the Delos boys.
She told Helen at least three times that Lucas had held the door for
her at the end of class. That act proved he was not only a gentleman,
but already in love with her as well. Jason, Claire decided,
was either gay or a snob because he had only glanced at her once
before quickly looking away. She also took offense at how nice a
dresser he was, like he was European or something.
31/395
Hes been living in Spain for, like, three years, Gig. He kinda is
European. Can we please stop talking about them? Its giving me a
headache.
Why are you the only person in school that isnt interested in the
Delos family? Arent you even curious to get a look?
No! And I think its pathetic that this entire town is standing
around gawking at them like a bunch of hicks! Helen shouted.
Claire stopped short and stared at her. It wasnt like Helen to argue,
let alone start yelling, but she couldnt seem to stop herself.
Im bored to death of the Delos family! Helen continued, even
when she saw Claires surprise. Im sick of this towns fixation
with them, and I hope I never have to meet, see, or share breathing
space with any of them!
Helen took off running, leaving Claire standing by herself on the
trail. She finished first, just like shed promised, but she did it a
little too quickly; Coach Tar gave her a shocked look when she recorded
the run time. Helen blew by her and stormed into the locker
room. She grabbed her stuff and bolted out of school, not bothering
to change or say good-bye to any of her teammates.
On the way home, Helen started crying. She pedaled past the
neat rows of gray shingled-sided houses with their black or white
painted storm shutters and tried to calm down. The sky seemed to
sit particularly low on the scoured land, as if it was pressing down
on the gables of the old whalers and trying to finally flatten them
after a few centuries of stubborn defiance. Helen had no idea why
shed gotten so angry, or why shed abandoned her best friend like
that. She needed a little peace and quiet.
There was a car accident on Surfside; some gigantic SUV had
tried to turn onto a narrow, sandbanked side street and turned
over. The drivers were okay, but their beached whale of a car
blocked off traffic from end to end. Annoyed as she was, Helen
knew she couldnt even pedal past the boneheaded off islanders
without losing her checkers. She decided to take the long way
32/395
home. She turned around and headed back toward the center of
town, passing the movie theater, the ferry, and the library, which,
with its Greek temple architecture, stuck out like a sore thumb in a
town that otherwise was an ode to four-hundred-year-old Puritan
architecture. And maybe thats why Helen loved it. The Atheneum
was a gleaming white beacon of strange smack-dab in the middle
of forget-me-now drab, and somehow, Helen identified with both
of those things. Half of her was no-nonsense Nantucket through
and through, and the other half was marble columns and grand
stairs that just didnt belong where they had been built. Biking
past, Helen looked up at the Atheneum and smiled. It was consoling
for her to know that she might stick out, but at least she didnt
stick out that much.
When she got home, she tried to pull herself together, taking a
freezing-cold shower before calling Claire to apologize. Claire
didnt pick up. Helen left her a long apology blaming hormones,
the heat, stress, anything and everything she could think of, though
she knew in her heart that none of those things was the real reason
she had flipped out. Shed been so irritable all day.
The air outside was heavy and still. Helen opened all the windows
in the two-story Shaker-style house, but no breeze blew
through them. What was with the weird weather? Still air was
practically unheard of in Nantucketliving so close to the ocean
there was always wind. Helen pulled on a thin tank top and a pair
of her shortest shorts. Since she was too modest to go anywhere
dressed so scantily, she decided to cook dinner. It was still her
fathers week as kitchen slave and technically he was responsible
for all the shopping, meals, and dishes for a few days yet, but she
needed something to do with her hands or shed use them to climb
the walls.
Pasta in general was Helens comfort food, and lasagna was the
queen of pasta. If she made the noodles from scratch, shed be
33/395
occupied for hours, just like she wanted, so she pulled out the flour
and eggs and got to work.
When Jerry came home the second thing he noticed, after the
amazing smell, was that the house was swelteringly hot. He found
Helen sitting at the kitchen table, flour stuck to her sweaty face and
arms, worrying the heart-shaped necklace, which her mother had
given her as a baby, between her thumb and forefinger. He looked
around with tense shoulders and wide eyes.
Made dinner, Helen told him in a flat voice.
Did I do something wrong? he asked tentatively.
Of course not. Why would you ask that when I just cooked you
dinner?
Because usually when a woman spends hours cooking a complicated
meal and then just sits at the table with a pissed-off look
on her face, that means some guy somewhere did something really
stupid, he said, still on edge. I have had other women in my life
besides you, you know.
Are you hungry or not? Helen asked with a smile, trying to
shake off her ugly mood.
Hunger won out. Jerry shut his mouth and went to wash his
hands. Helen hadnt eaten since breakfast and should have been
starved. When she tasted the first forkful she realized she wouldnt
be able to eat. She listened as best as she could while she pushed
bits of her favorite food around her plate and Jerry devoured two
pieces. He asked her questions about her day while he tried to
sneak a little more salt onto his food. Helen blocked his attempts
like she always did, but she didnt have the energy to give him
more than monosyllabic answers.
Even though she went to bed at nine, leaving her dad watching
the Red Sox on TV, she was still lying awake at midnight when she
heard the game finally end and her father come upstairs. She was
tired enough to sleep, but every time she started to drift off she
would hear whispering.
34/395
At first she thought that it had to be real, that someone was outside
playing a trick on her. She went up to the widows walk on the
roof above her bedroom and tried to see as far as she could into the
dark. Everything was stillnot even a puff of air to stir the rosebushes