Ripple

A few students groan, but I perk up. Even though I don’t look forward to school, I like my classes. Someday, I’m going to be a doctor or a research scientist. I’ll find the cure for cancer or something. I’ll give back to this world the things I’ve taken.

I’ll go away for college, somewhere far away and big enough that I can be anonymous, blend into the student body. Sure, I’ll have to find somewhere else to swim, but I’ll worry about that when I come to it.

“Your first project will be done in groups.”

Murmurs spread throughout the room as students attempt to snag partners. My heart sinks, even as I try to remind myself this is part of working toward something bigger than the curse. Maybe I can work with that new guy, Erik something-or-other. Maybe he hasn’t heard the rumors about me yet, even though we’ve already had weeks of classes.

Mrs. Jensen clears her throat to silence the rumblings. “Before you get too excited, I will be assigning groups of three. So let’s see. . . .” Mrs. Jensen begins dividing the room up. As she reaches our corner of the room, the horrible, inevitable truth dawns: I’m going to end up with Sienna and Cole.

No. This can’t happen. I can’t talk to her. I can’t talk to him.

Just as I expected, she names the three of us off and then turns back to the board, as if she hasn’t just drastically altered the course of the universe, or at the very least, sparked off the third world war. I grip the edges of my table and struggle to breathe.

“For your project, I’d like you to read and discuss a novel. You may choose any book you’d like, but you’ll need to submit your selection for approval by tomorrow. Your assignment will be to complete an interpretive project for the class, which must include both a paper and a presentation. There are three of you, so I expect some good results.”

The class begins shuffling their desks around. I wait a few moments longer than I should and then grab the edges of mine and spin around, until I’m staring at Sienna’s hostile face. I glance at Cole. His sweet, unassuming smile catches me off guard. How can he look so relaxed when he knows what it’s like between Sienna and me?

“I’m thinking fantasy,” I say through gritted teeth. “Maybe one of Eva Stonewall’s novels.”

“Do you even know how weird you are sometimes? You look like you swallowed denture glue.”

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you because your prepster shirt is so loud,” I say. Her eyes flutter momentarily as she glances down at the bright pink and yellow V-neck she’s wearing. She glares at me.

Cole glances between us but ignores our verbal smack down. “Those are girlie books. How about something by Carl Levison?”

“Ick. His books are boring,” Sienna says. “If you’ve read one, you’ve read them all.”

“Are you kidding me? That man’s a genius,” Cole says.

Sienna shrugs. “Let’s do Manhattan Prep.”

I snort. “Leave it to you to choose something trashy like Manhattan Prep. Mrs. Jensen will never let us do that—it’s right up there with comic books.”

Sienna rolls her eyes at me and crosses her arms. “Not if we play it right. We can tell Mrs. Jensen we plan to explore whether the books are an intentionally satirical view of the privileged. Maybe the author’s true motivation is to show how shallow the elite really are by exaggerating the behavior of the characters. She’s mocking them, not glamorizing them.”

Cole doesn’t hesitate in countering her. “There’s no way those books are meant as satire. They’re just trashy soap-opera novels. Mindless drivel.” All of a sudden, he pauses. His eyes light up and he sits up straighter. “What if we use that format for our presentation? We can stage a debate for the class—are the books meant to be tongue- in-cheek, or are they nothing more than trash?”

Sienna crosses her arms. “Uh-uh. We can do a normal presentation, one where we separately memorize our parts. No . . .”—her voice trails off, and she glares at me—“interaction required.”

“Come on. I thought you were valedictorian?” Cole says.

She snorts. “I am valedictorian.”

Cole gives her a pointed look. “Prove it. We do something unexpected, something inventive, and we’ll nail this.”

Sienna huffs, her need to succeed outweighing her desire to avoid me. “Whatever.”

Cole leans back against his chair, a smug expression on his face.

I turn away and stare at the scribbles of permanent marker on the corner of my desk, trying in vain to keep the panic at bay. I can’t do this. I can’t work with her. With them.

When I look up, Cole is grinning at me, sending my heart scrambling. “You in?”

I smile weakly, nod, and yank my desk away, counting down the seconds until I can slip into my lake tonight.

Chapter Seven

That night, I sit at the dinner table across from my grandmother. Behind me, the wood stove crackles, warming my backside. I pick up a pretzel twist from the bowl in between us and chew off the pieces of salt. Gram reaches out, sliding four tiles up next to an S. BOATS. How ironic.

She looks at me as she lines it up on the Scrabble board, and for a second I think she’s going to say something, but she doesn’t.

“Do anything fun today?” I ask.

She chews on her lip while she reaches into the plastic bag and draws her replacement letters. “Oh, not really. One of my exercise sessions at the center. How about you?”

I stare at my tiles. I drew a bunch of consonants, and only one vowel—a U. The fire crackles again as a log splits, and the light of the room turns a little more orange. “We got a new assignment in English. It’s a group thing. We have to read a novel, and then we’re going to debate about it in front of the class.”

“Oh?” She raises a brow.

I spell out HURRY on the board and take a measly handful of points. My grandmother isn’t very good at this game, but I like letting her win. It’s a careful balance not to give away my ploy.

“Yeah. The teacher paired me with Sienna and Cole.”

She fiddles with her tiles, arranging and rearranging them on her little tray. “Well that worked out nicely, being in a group with your friends.” She raises her eyes to meet mine, and I try not to react. I look down at the bag and grab a few replacement tiles, hoping my evasiveness doesn’t give me away.

Lately, she’s been getting suspicious. It began this summer, when she realized I was alone the entire time, reading college textbooks and watching Discovery Channel documentaries. I told her Sienna spent the whole break in France with her family. It worked, for a while, until she ran into Sienna’s mom at the bank. Leave it to her to remember the one thing I wish she’d forget. I had to scramble and make something up, about how they must have come home early, but I still don’t know for sure if she bought it.

“Yeah, it’s cool. The project should be an easy A.”

“How are the rest of your classes?”

I shrug. “Same as usual. Some really good teachers, some meh.”

She nods, finally spelling out PORK. “You should do a movie night soon, like you used to when you were younger. Have Sienna over, get some of your favorite buttered popcorn.” She looks up at me, her eyes appraising, studying my reaction. She might be forgetful but she’s not stupid.

I fight the urge to swallow as I know she’ll catch on. “Yeah. That would be fun.”

“Great. Talk to her about it and I’ll take care of the rest. Well, you two should probably pick the movie.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” I nod again and spell out PATIO.