“Who doesn’t enjoy a good sword fight?” When Jack smiled, his whole
face lit up. “Yeah, I’ve read Tolkien, and my mother told us fairy tales every
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night. I’m an expert on magical creatures, and I can recognize one when I see
one. There’s a glint of starlight in your brown eyes that gives away your true
identity.”
Jack flipped open the lid of the box. The pizza had slid to one side and
much of the topping was stuck to the cardboard. He shrugged and said, “That’s
why people don’t deliver pizzas by bike.”
We sat down and Jack said, “Mom told me she dragged you shopping
today. She loves shopping with girls. It kills her that she can’t dress Lucky and
me in matching sailor outfits.”
As we took out slices of the gooey mess, I asked, “What else does your
mother like?”
“Besides her family? Her
girls
.” He pitched his voice higher, mimicking
her. “A Birch Grove girl is an exceptional girl.”
He was watching for my reaction. I stared right back into his wide green
eyes. They were the moss color of the school’s pond with bronzy flecks like the
reflection of sunlight.
“Well?” Jack said.
I bit into the pizza. Even though it wasn’t hot, it was the best pizza I’d ever
had. “It’s great.”
Jack said, “What are your favorite subjects?”
It was the same question his brother had asked. “Math and science.”
“Why? And tell me in complete sentences, like you’d answer in a college
interview.”
“Is this the price of pizza?” I said, and he nodded. “Okay, I like them
because science and math are always reasonable, logical, and fair. The rules
apply no matter who you are, or who you know. There is beauty and balance.
They make sense.”
“And people don’t,” he said. “We’re irrational, biased, and unreliable.”
“Some more than others,” I said, and he smiled. “But the rules of science
apply when we die. When our bodies decompose, it doesn’t matter if we were
rich, poor, smart, stupid… None of that matters, because our chemical
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components are equal even though life is not.”
“I don’t know when I’ve had a more cheerful dinner companion,” Jack said.
I shrugged and said, “You asked.”
We ate silently for a few minutes before he said, “Tell me about yourself.”
“I came from a group home and now I’m here.”
“Thanks for the fascinating details,” he said. “Why were you in a foster
home?”
I wasn’t going to reveal anything he didn’t already know. “Didn’t your
mother tell you?”
“The only thing she told us was that you’re here on scholarship.”
“My mother died when I was seven, and I got dumped into the system.”
“What about your father?”
“He bailed before I was born.” I shifted my leg and it momentarily brushed
against Jack’s under the table. I felt a jolt from the contact, and I quickly tucked
my legs under my chair.
“So your dad’s not going to come and get you anytime soon?”
I shook my head. “As far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t exist.”
“You’re all alone then,” Jack said.
It was exactly what his mother had said, what everyone said. “You
probably don’t realize it, living in a place like this, but lots of kids don’t live with
their birth parents. Lots of families are broken up.”
“I know that, Jane,” he said in such a sorrowful way that I got the strangest
feeling that he actually did understand. “Do you like living by yourself here?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?”
“No, because most people are happy to talk about themselves. I have to pry
stuff out of you.”
“Why do you care?”
He grinned. “Now who’s asking the questions? I’m curious.”
I sighed. “I love having my own space, but it’s so different. I’m used to
more noise, city noise, cars and people. And at night, when the wind blows, the
trees make sounds. I’ll become habituated to it.”
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
“
Habituated?
Really?” A smile played on his lips. “Well, look who’s
been studying for the SATs.”
“If I didn’t study, I wouldn’t be here,” I snapped. “Yes, it feels a little eerie
sometimes.”
“There are lots of folktales about birches. Do you know what they say
about them? They say they lift their roots from the earth and walk at night.”
I had that unidentifiable sensation again. Then I saw the twinkle in Jack’s
eyes and got annoyed.
“Jacob, at my old school, students got shot and stabbed. There were ODs
and arrests. There were kids who didn’t get to the emergency room in time and
died. So don’t think you’re going to scare me with your preposterous stories,” I
said. “Everyone knows trees aren’t animate. They can’t walk or talk or come
alive at night!”
The strange sensation came again, the thing I couldn’t remember, and I
pushed it away.
“No, I don’t suppose it’s easy to scare you,” Jack said more seriously.
“There’s something in your eyes, Halfling, like you’ve see things not meant for
mere mortals.”
“You’re so full of it, Jack,” I said and he just laughed and grabbed a third
slice of pizza.
Although I was already full, I desperately hoped he wasn’t going to throw
the rest away, because some people are like that, tossing away things that others
could use. After all, it was his pizza.
When Jack finished eating, he stood. “Keep the rest. See you around,
halfling.”
He let himself out and I heard the crunch of his tires on the leaves outside
as he rode off.
I had no idea what to make of him, or why he’d really come by. He must
be bored.
After I went to bed, I listened to the sounds outside. I imagined the trees
pulling away from the earth and wandering in the night, massive, yet graceful in
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
the moonlight. I thought of their limbs moving like dancers, of their delicate
whispery song, and I fell asleep.
Mid-morning the next day, Saturday, Mrs. Monroe stopped by to drop off
my uniforms and a round box. “These are your school hats. There’s a straw one
for sunny days, a wool one for the winter, and a cap for sports. Our founder’s
wife believed that a lady should always protect her complexion and science has
shown that to be an excellent policy.”
I suddenly imagined Mrs. Monroe trying to get Jack to wear a sailor suit
and I smiled. “Thank you, ma’am. For everything.”
“You’re welcome, Jane. I’ll see you at registration on Monday at 8:30.
Students wear their blazers and skirts on the first day of term.”
“I know I should have asked before – I don’t have a computer and I didn’t
notice where the computer lab was in the school. Or are they somewhere in the
library?”
“Most applicants already know and I should have mentioned that we don’t
use computers for schoolwork here,” she said. “It sounds shockingly backwards
in this day and age, but studies have shown that using books for research and the
actual process of writing by hand reinforces learning and encourages analysis.”
“I’ve never heard of anything like that,” I said. “But colleges want students
who are computer literate.”
She smiled and said, “They prefer students who can think and do research
from original source material. You may use the computers in the library in town,
so long as you don’t use them for school work.”
“Okay, I’ll do that. I wanted to say hi to my old friends.”
“It’s good of you to keep in touch, but be careful not to hold on too tight to
old acquaintances instead of making new friends here at Birch Grove,” she said.
“Well, I’ll be off. See you tomorrow, Jane.”
After I had lunch, I got the shopping bag with new clothes and walked to
the edge of campus and down the drive to town. The fog grew lighter as I went
downhill. When I turned to look back up at Birch Grove, it blanketed in soft
grayness.
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
The library was off the main street, and only a few older people sat in the
cushioned armchairs of the reading area. I filled out an application for a library
card and was issued one with tag that said
Birch Grove Academy
. Then I went to
the computer stalls and logged into my old City Central account.
I thought I’d have messages from my housemates at Mrs. Richards’, but no
one had written to me. I sent a message to one of my roommates telling her that I
was fine and happy in my new place.
Lily and the other Alphas had written to wish me luck. I wrote back and
told them about the crazy no-computers rule, the uniforms, and the handbook
filled with regulations.
I wanted to tell them about the beautiful school, gorgeous Lucky, my
amazing cottage, and weird Jack, but I didn’t want to sound all fangirly about
Birch Grove when they were still stuck at City Central. As I signed off, I felt a
pang; I knew they would soon forget me.
I scoured the library’s non-fiction stacks and an hour later I had a pile of
books for school, including a guide to tutoring chemistry. I imagined sitting side
by side with Lucky, the book open in front of us, and how he’d learn to see me as
more than just a mousy girl. Yeah, right. At least I could look at him.
I also did an internet search on Mrs. Monroe’s theory about handwriting
and found that she was right: research had shown a correlation between learning
and the process of writing. Some City Central teachers made us write by hand,
but only when students had gotten so blasé about their plagiarism that their
cutting and pasting was obvious.
My next stop was the women’s clothing shop. I tried to look confident and
casual as I walked up to the register with my bag. “Hi, I’d like to return these
things,” I said to a clerk in a pale blue sweater and skirt.
I took the clothes out of the bag and she said, “Certainly. Do you have the
receipt?”
“No, the clothes were a gift. I’d like a refund.”
“We can give you store credit,” she said. “But we can’t give refunds
without a receipt.”
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
“I just got them two days ago,” I said. I wished I was one of those girls
who could talk their way into anything, and I tried smiling.
“Hello, there, young lady,” someone said.
The clerk and I both turned to look at the older clerk who worked in the
lingerie section.
“Hi,” I said.
She looked me up and down and said, “Yes, good undergarments make a
very nice difference. How are you?”
“I’m trying to return some things I don’t need.”
The woman at the counter said to her, “Oh, you two know each other?”
“Yes, Mrs. Monroe brought her shopping the other day. She’s a new Birch
Grove student.”
“Then I think we can make an exception to the refund policy,” said the
clerk in blue.
Now that I had cash in my pocket, I stopped into the chic beauty shop next
door to the boutique. Mirrors reflecting gleaming glass display cases, and a subtle
floral scent hung in the air. I went to the counter with rows of eye products, eye
shadows in a kaleidoscope of colors, trays of crayons from thin to thick…
I picked up a tube of mascara and turned it to see the price, which was on a
tiny tab. It cost as much as a bag of groceries.
A pretty clerk came over and said, “May I help you find something?”
“No thanks. Just looking,” I said. I picked up an eye crayon and it cost
even more. “Thanks.”
I walked toward the bus stop, feeling the comfort of the folded bills and
coins in my pocket, when I saw the shuttle pulling away from the stop. I ran, my
heavy book bag clunking against me, but the shuttle chugged off.
I read the chemistry tutoring guide while waiting for the next shuttle. I was
thinking about Lucky and money, money and Lucky, when I realized that a car
had stopped in front of me and then someone called out, “Hey! Hey!”
It was the girl from the grocery store. She was leaning across the front seat
of the older black Nissan so she could yell out the open passenger window.
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
“Hi,” I said.
“Where ya going?”
“Up to Birch Grove. I just missed the shuttle.”
“It’ll be another hour ‘cause it’s still on the summer schedule. I’ll give you
a lift. Hop in.”
“Thanks.” I got in the car, which had fuzzy pink seat covers and smelled
like strawberry jam. “I’m Jane.”
“Hey, Jane. My friends call me Ornery, but my real name is Orneta.”
“Which do you want to be called?” I asked. There was something very
easy-going about her and I felt more relaxed than I had in weeks.
“Call me Orneta around the store and Ornery when I’m not. I’m taking
nursing classes at the CC.”
“Is that nearby?”
“It’s about twenty minutes away.” She said she lived in an apartment with
two roommates and asked where I was from. When I told her and mentioned City
Central she let out a hoot. “That place has a terrible rep,” she said. “I dated a guy