The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove (23 page)

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Authors: Marta Acosta

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from cycling in a hurricane.

Everyone said hello to each other. I hung back as MV grabbed Jack’s arm

and said, “I can’t believe your mother let you go out like this.”

“I’m a grown man,” he said and gave MV a loud smacking kiss on her

cheek. “You look very
blonde
, Mary Violet.”

“I hear that sarcasm in your voice, Jacob Monroe.”

“You always were too smart for me, Mary Violet.”

“That’s why men are so intimidated by me,” she said. “Is your brother here

yet?”

“He’ll be here later.” Jack saw me standing back. “Jane, did you come to

hear Dog Waffle?” He saw my expression and said, “Dog Waffle. It’s my band.

I guess the answer is no. Doesn’t Hattie look beautiful?”

“Yes,” I said. “Even more so than usual.”

Hattie reached out and took my hand. “You look pretty in that dress. The

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

color is one of my favorites.”

“I thought red was your favorite,” Jack said. “Valentines, roses,

strawberries, blood—”

Hattie interrupted, saying, “Blood-red lipstick, rubies, beets.”

“No one likes beets,” Mary Violet said.

“MV, you always make these grand pronouncements,” Constance said.

“With you it’s always
everybody
or
nobody
. You have a binary approach to life.”

“My mind is like a super computer,” MV said. “Let’s do a lap of the room.

Hattie, are you coming or will be acting all groupie and sexually servicing the

band members?”

“That was my plan, MV,” Hattie said.

Jack feigned shock and said, “How do I get in on the groupie action?” and

Hattie slapped his arm and said to us, “I’ll catch up with you.”

I followed Mary Violet and Constance as they began making their way

around the room, which had quickly become crowded. Most people looked like

juniors or seniors, and several looked college-age.

My friends were so busy talking to people that it was easy for me to slide

away, keeping to the comfort of the periphery.

The music stopped and the stage lights came on. Jack and three other guys

hopped onstage. One guy went to the drum set, another carried a bass, and Jack

picked up a guitar from a stand, and a thin guy with a bleached buzz cut took the

center mike.

The DJ announced, “Greenwood’s own, Dog Waffle.”

The crowd clapped and hooted as the singer shouted, “
Uno,
dos
, three,

four…”

I moved back around to where my friends had left their things. I sat hidden

by one of the potted trees and watched the band as best I could over the people

standing.

At City Central, almost everyone listened to hip-hop, and I didn’t know

much about rock. The band was too loud for the room, and the sound bounced

around, more noise than music. I could only make out a few lyrics. It was a song

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

about deceit.

The band played four more songs and the more I listened, the more I liked

them. The lyrics were clever, not just the usual you/true/blue monosyllabic

rhyme, and the harder edge cranked up the energy of the room.

It was obvious even to me that Jack was a much better musician than the

rest of the band. He played with his head down and his hair hanging over his

face. Every now and then, he’d look at the other guys and grin. The lights played

on his strong nose and chin and caught the glint of his eyes. His smile was so

infectious that I found myself smiling, too.

Then I caught sight of Lucky’s golden head near the front of the stage.

There was a tall honey-haired person beside him. She was Catalina, and Lucky

was leaning close to talk to her. The beautiful girl lifted her face toward to him as

she laughed. His hand went up to stroke her hair.

Hurt gripped me and twisted hard. How stupid was I to believe Lucky’s

girlfriends are temporary
speech, to think that he just wanted an adoring audience

in addition to real girlfriends? How stupid was I to think that I might have meant

something to him? I needed to get out of here, and I hoped that I could find my

way back to my cottage, because I needed to cry.

Then I would crush down the traitorous emotions which had given me false

hope.

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

Chapter 13

“Possession of the following will result in serious and immediate action,

including the possibility of expulsion: alcohol; drugs; weapons, including

guns, knives…”

Birch Grove Student Handbook

“Jane! There you are. What’s the matter?” Hattie caught my arm as I

reached the door.

“Nothing. I have to go. I’m…I don’t feel well.”

She put her arm around my shoulders. “We’ll go out in the fresh air.”

Outside, I inhaled the cold air, feeling as if I could breathe again. Across

the lot the blue pools looked pure and bright. Voices floated from dark shadows

under the trees beyond. A bottle crashed on cement somewhere and laughter

followed.

Hattie wrapped her arms around her body and said, “It gets too stuffy in

there. Are you coming down with something?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine, really.”

“Jane, I can tell you’re
not
fine. What’s wrong?”

I looked into her hazel eyes and wished I hadn’t promised Lucky not to say

anything. “I’m not very good at social things. I’d rather be home.”

“If you stay at home, you’ll never learn to handle parties. Everyone here is

okay, but you have to put some effort into getting to know them. It’s not instant.”

I nodded. Finally I admitted, “I saw Lucky in there. With Catalina.”

“She’s is
so
not interested in him. He’s too small-town for her,” Hattie said

casually. “Lucky’s a tease. He flirts with Catalina because he thinks it makes

other girls jealous.”

Had he been teasing me? “I thought that maybe…”

“Lucky likes to pretend that Catalina’s sexier and prettier than anyone from

Greenwood could
ever
possibly be. As if we’re so threatened by someone who’ll

be gone as soon as she graduates.”

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“To college, you mean?”

“Yes, and her family’s only here for a few years. Her father works for a

multinational and they move a lot.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling foolish for overreacting. “Hattie, what if the person

who’s been leaving those messages is here?”

“Is that what’s really bothering you? No one’s going to get by me to hurt

you, Jane.”

I smiled at the thought of Hattie in a cat fight. “You’d really throw down

for me?”

“Absolutely! Let’s go back in. Unless you want a drink first. Some of my

friends set up a bar behind the pool house.”

I realized that from her relaxed manner that she’d been drinking. “No,

thanks.”

“Why do you always keep such tight control of yourself?”

“It’s the only thing in my life I ever could control.” I tried to explain. “If

you’re small and in a sketchy environment, you’ve got to be alert and careful all

the time.”

“I know you might not think so, but I have to watch out, too, Jane.” She

said it so seriously that I assumed it was the vodka talking, because what would a

girl like Hattie have to worry about?

But I went back inside with her as the band was ended their set. The crowd

clapped and hooted, and Jack jumped off the stage, hi-fiving friends as he made

way to Lucky. Hattie put her arm through mine and pulled me with her as she

went to meet him.

Catalina was now leaning against the stage. Her lustrous caramel satin slip

dress showed off her golden skin, the curves of her breasts, and her long legs. In

her heels she was almost as tall as Lucky.

“Hi, Catalina, Lucky,” Hattie said breezily, as she dropped my arm and

slipped hers through Jack’s.

“Hello, Harriet,” Catalina said coolly, rolling the r’s of Hattie’s name. She

looked me up and down. “You’re all dressed-up like a woman.”

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

“Hello, to you, too, Catalina.”

Lucky looked at Hattie and me and casually said, “Hey.”

Hattie said to me, “Isn’t Jack’s band great?”

Jack brushed a curl off his sweaty forehead. “Don’t pressure her to

compliment me. She doesn’t like fishing for compliments.”

“I wouldn’t compliment you unless I meant it,” I said. “You’re really

good.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Good like pizza?”

“Pizza’s great, not good, so there’s a qualitative difference.”

Jack clutched his heart dramatically and Hattie laughed.

Lucky was already talking to some other guy who’d come up. Then more

kids joined us and somehow I was in the center of those talking, even though no

one was talking to me. They all talked to each other over my head, as if I was an

inconveniently placed fire hydrant.

One guy mentioned the mid-term break and other said that everyone should

go on a group vacation. Lucky wanted to visit Portland because he’d never been

there, and Catalina said she would be seeing relatives in Barcelona. Hattie voted

for the trip to Portland and hotels were mentioned.

Constance came up and said, “Oregon’s always rainy. We can go to the

Islands and stay at my family’s beach house,” and then she pulled Hattie away

and I was left with the others.

An older girl, a long-faced college student named Sage, looked right at me

and said, “Who are
you
?”

“I’m Jane Williams.”

Catalina said, “She’s the new Bebe.”

“What happened to the old Bebe?” Sage asked.

“She went to live with her uncle in Europe,” I said.

“Pulleeze,” Sage drawled. “More like she got knocked up by one of her

ghetto boyfriends and sent back to wherever she came from.” Smiling

flirtatiously at Lucky, Sage said, “Lucien, you think your mom would get tired of

rescuing these sad orphans.”

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Lucky looked at his brother and said, “It’s all yours, bro,” and walked

away, making me feel as if he didn’t care how people treated me. I wished a hole

would open in the floor and I would fall through and away from this place and

these people.

“I don’t have parents either, Sage,” Jack said suddenly. “Not birth-parents.

I’m adopted. Do you feel sorry for me, too? Can I cry on your shoulder? My

nose gets snotty when I cry, but snottiness turns you on, doesn’t it? Makes you

feel so
special
, am I right?”

“I, uhm, I didn’t mean…” Sage said nervously and those around her

grinned at her distress. “I didn’t know, uhm…”

“It’s not your fault,” Jack said. “Only our
close
friends knew. Like Jane.”

Jack put his arm over my shoulders, drawing me close, and when he

touched me, I got that jolt that woke all my nerves. I felt the heat from his body

and smelled his intriguing scent, like the morning dew evaporating in the grove,

like the earth in the sun.

“I’m sorry, I, uh…” Sage stepped back away from the group.

“Don’t ask to cry on my shoulder, Jacob” Catalina said. “Hattie is already

so jealous of me.”

“It’s because you’re a goddess, Catalina,” Jack said with a smart-ass grin

that made her laugh.

I felt drained and on the edge of tears. When I tried to step backward, Jack

kept his arm firmly around me. “Jane, you look like you’ve had enough of these

idiots and my awful music probably gave you a headache. I can give you a lift

home if you want.”

“Don’t you have to play again?”

“Not for another hour.”

Even though I didn’t want to go with Jack, I didn’t want to stay here either.

“I was going to spend that night at Mary Violet’s.”

“She always stays until two or three,” Jack said. “Your choice.”

“Let me tell her I’m going to my place.”

MV was nowhere to be found, but Constance was by the refreshment table.

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

I told her, “I’m burnt out and Jack’s giving me a lift home. I can pick up my

things at MV’s tomorrow.”

“You sure?” Constance asked as she glanced at a lanky guy by her side.

“Sure. See you in the morning.” As I went back to Jack, I looked around

for Lucky. I saw him talking to Hattie by the steps leading onto the stage. She

gestured with her arms, almost as if she was scolding him.

Jack was waiting for me by the door, and we went outside to the parking

lot.

I said, “I thought you were against cars.”

“It’s our drummer’s van,” he said, pointing to an old VW on the edge of the

lot. “I can’t even balance a pizza on a bike, how am I going to balance amps?”

He opened the passenger door for me. I tried to get in without my dress

hiking up, and I had to tug at the hem, which caught on the ripped seat cover. The

van smelled like potato chips and motor oil and weed. There were curtains in a

daisy print on the side windows. A plastic Batman with a missing arm dangled

from the rear view mirror.

Jack got in and after a few tries, he got the engine started. He struggled

with the stick shift and said, “I’m driving so it’s your job to make small talk.”

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