Carrie says. “We plan all the parties and events for the year, and we could really use some help.”
I wince. Everyone I know of on the Senior Social Committee is like Carrie: perky people pleasers who get
really
excited about things like shiny confetti in cutesy animal shapes. Nothing wrong with that, just not really my style.
“Come on, Autumn, it’s perfect!” Carrie says. “Colleges love the Committee Girls. They know we’re responsible and motivated, and we can lead.
Plus
a lot of our events raise money for charity—including
elderly
charities—so it helps you with your arrow thing too!”
I’m not entirely sure I love the idea of getting more Carrie time, but she makes some great points.
“Okay,” I relent. “I’m in.”
“Yes!” Carrie screeches. “Welcome to the sisterhood! You’ll meet me after school for your first meeting. We’ve only been back a week, but we’re
deep
into Halloween dance planning—it’s less than two months away—and we need some serious answers about which looks better: fake tarantulas or fake black widows.”
I think she’s joking, but when I meet with the “sisterhood” that afternoon, I realize there is absolutely no humor in what they do. They discuss the pros and cons of candy corn versus mellowcreme pumpkins with the same intensity that my mom and Eddy bring to issues of human rights in Cuba…or the way Jack and J.J. debate the merits of the
Millennium Falcon
over the Starship
Enterprise
. There’s also a guy in the sisterhood. Gus is gay, and I worry that lumping him in as a “sister” is completely insulting, but when I bring it up he scoffs. Not only am I being way too sensitive, he says, but we on the committee have bigger issues to deal with—like mylar versus paper streamers.
Seriously? This is what colleges are into?
Whatever. At least now I have a passion for them, and the sisterhood becomes part of my hard-core new schedule. It’s kind of like where I was last spring, only this time it’s better because I’m not keeping busy to avoid a suffocating boyfriend. Instead, I’m changing my life. School days are all about my classes, and I spend my free periods getting a jump on homework so I can go home after Committee and dive into SAT prep. When I realize I’m having major trouble with my American history class because I can’t read all those dates without them getting jumbled in my dyslexic head, I don’t do my normal thing and figure I can handle it myself. I don’t even bring the problem to ADAPT, the group I go to for kids with learning issues. Instead I go right to my teacher, Mrs. Foreman, and ask her for help. Not only does she promise to find me a tutor, but she also says she’s very impressed by my initiative.
“Thanks,” I say. Then, as I’m about to leave, I point to the water bottle she always keeps on her desk—the one decorated with the U.S. Constitution—and add, “I keep noticing your water bottle. It’s so cool! Did you order it online?”
This leads to a ridiculously long conversation about the amazing things you can find on Amazon. It completely eats into my free period and a chance to do homework, but I leave knowing Mr. Winthrop would be proud. Kissing up to a teacher? Done. Mrs. Foreman will write me a killer college recommendation—especially when I use the tutor she recommends to kill it in her class.
When SAT day comes, I’m not even nervous. Mom drives me, since I’m the only one I know taking them right now. Reenzie’s spring score was practically perfect, so she’s concentrating on APs; Sean’s was fine for his football scholarship, and Taylor’s was fine for her theater schools, which are more about her audition. Amalita did okay but she says standardized tests give her hives, so she’ll do what I once thought I’d do and just let it be. J.J., Carrie, and Jack
are
taking the tests again, but not until November.
Unlike me, Mom’s insanely nervous. “I still can’t believe they turned down
Carey Heywood
Sharla Lovelace
Angela Smith
Nikki Brinks
Mia Ashlinn
Parris Afton Bonds
Thomas H. Cook
Kendall Ryan
Kathryn Littlewood
Warren Murphy