On the other side of the earth, everyone would tease these people about what they were wearing. Erin was embarrassed about her wool and equally embarrassed about their wool. But they all were in the same boat.
Erin followed a herd around the art building to discover an enormous unmarked field with nary a goalpost or sideline. People, still mostly in blazers, played Frisbee and soccer. Three different games of Erin didn’t know what—played with a football—were underway.
No adults supervised. In Wheaton, security guards ensured students stayed where they belonged—in class or in the cafeteria—or weren’t smoking in the bathrooms between periods.
Ilam High’s campus was one giant picnic.
She caught a rogue Frisbee a fraction of a second before it beheaded her.
A lean, blonde guy jogged toward her. “Sorry! I’ll take the disc.” He was easily a head taller than she and lanky like a basketball player. She handed over the disc and he lobbed it toward a girl in the field.
Just beyond him was a group of people—guys and girls—playing cricket. Erin could scarcely believe it. Cricket. Her first night in London, after her parents had gone out for the night, she sat in her hotel room doing homework to the sounds of cricket on the TV. The sport was complicated: wickets and bowlers and overs.
These guys were in school uniforms and not the bright whites of the cricket … field? Court? Diamond? She didn’t know.
“There you are!” Jade said. “I’ve been looking for you. How was your morning?”
“Good,” Erin said.
“I usually sit over there.” Jade pointed to a threesome playing guitars. “I want to introduce you around, though.”
She walked Erin around the courtyard, introducing her to so many people Erin would never remember their names. Jade introduced her as “Erin from America.” Erin appreciated the clean social slate.
“Summer swims, too” Jade said, standing next to a girl who’d tied her school blouse into a knot at her waist.
“Good to meet you, Erin,” Summer said. “Need a lift to swim?”
It seemed juvenile to admit Felicity was driving her around Christchurch. “I have a ride today, but maybe tomorrow?”
“Sweet as.”
Jade introduced other students, including a pockmarked guy named Jackson, who wore a badge reading HEAD BOY.
He said, “You have the cutest accent ever.”
“Thanks, you too.” Erin blushed.
Introductions finally over, Erin and Jade settled atop their school bags in the grass near the guitar threesome. Erin opened her hastily packed lunch. At the last possible second, Felicity had told her to throw something together, so lunch was ten pounds of fruit.
“We spent the winter hols in the States. Beautiful beaches,” Jade said.
“What were you doing in America?”
“Cousin’s wedding, but it was really just an excuse to get a bit of sun. Bunch of my mates skied at The Remarkables, and I would have rather done that.”
The Remarkables. That’s where Good-Time Girl had skied two weeks ago. Perhaps she was one of Jade’s mates. Erin suspected Good-Time Girl could show her the best of Christchurch; perhaps Jade was the lead required to track her down.
Even her disastrous birthday celebration hadn’t been as isolating as Monday morning in homeroom. Amid video announcements for sports results and study abroad, morning briefing provided prime time for gossip.
Erin caught two words: “Gag reflex.”
In her peripheral vision, she caught a classmate making a lewd gesture and tonguing his cheek. Another guy gagged and pretended to vomit on his desk.
Heat swelled in Erin’s chest and crept up her neck.
She looked around the room, then turned to Ben’s best friend, Jamie. “What are they talking about?”
He laughed.
Erin stood. “What are you talking about?”
Someone behind her made a vomiting sound.
What had Ben told everyone? She hadn’t gagged on anything but her own vomit. Erin whipped out her phone and texted him: “What did you tell people about Saturday night?”
She texted Lalitha the same thing.
Aaron, who Erin had dated just before Ben, laughed. “Now I know why you said no to oral. Glad I didn’t push you any harder to do it.”
“That is not what happened,” Erin said.
The PA popped and rattled: “Erin Cerise to the guidance office.”
She gathered her things and stomped to the hall.
“So long, Gag Reflex,” she heard before the room erupted in laughter.
She would never live this down. Gag Reflex would follow her forever. Someone would write it in her yearbook. Next year—senior year—someone would spray it in shaving cream on her Fiat or Sharpie it on her locker.
SEVENTEEN
Felicity was chipper as she helped wrestle Erin’s cello case into the backseat. “And how was your first day?”
“Fine.” Erin rested her head against the seat back.
“Really? A totally different school on the other side of the world, and all you’ve got for me is ‘fine’?”
Erin stared at blue blazers pooling around the car. “It’s very different.”
“It’s quite a bit, eh?”
Felicity’s eh was similar to a Canadians’ eh, but more resigned and less of a question.
“What did you think of it?”
Erin faced Felicity. “I’m not sure. I’m digesting the experience. It’s kind of a lot.”
“I’m sure,” Felicity said as they pulled away. “Tell me the best parts.”
Felicity pointed out the route to the pool as Erin told her about Italian class. Felicity parked at the pool entrance as Erin poorly described the sport she’d seen at lunch.
“Sounds like rugby! You fancy a go?”
Erin closed her eyes and considered that. “They were mostly guys.”
“They’d welcome you! Every girl has to play once or twice … to see whether she likes it.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good as gold. I want to hear more after dinner, but you’re nearly late. This is Jellie Pool. Suppose you could walk, but it’s a haul to make it in time. You’ll have to ask your teammates how they get around. I’ll fetch you at half five, then?”
“That’s just two hours,” Erin said. “How about six thirty?”
“Tea’s at half six.”
“I used to
