were going over to a caterer’s to use their kitchen to make and freeze fifteen-hundred cookies for the homecoming dance. This way the school could keep the price of the dance down. Baking probably would have been fun, but I wasn’t doing that. My mother volunteered me to babysit the kids of the women who were baking. Mrs. Taylor was having a craft session at her house so the kids could have fun too. I wanted to point out that it was for this exact reason that God had given children two parents—
so that dads could watch children while their wives were out doing things—but it wouldn’t have done any good. Mom hadn’t let me buy a quilt so I could skip out on making one from scratch. I knew she wouldn’t let me go AWOL on babysitting. I was just glad that Mrs. Taylor had invited Mrs.
Benson to help make cookies, because Mrs. Benson had volunteered Elise to babysit too. Otherwise I would have been stuck all night with Samantha and her evil cheerleading twin, Chelsea.
Elise and I walked over to the Taylor’s together, slowly strolling down the street. Autumn had reached the trees, and orange leaves scattered around our feet. When I was little I loved seeing the trees like this, dressed up in fancy colors. I still liked them, but I couldn’t forget that this spurt of sunset colors meant that winter was coming. Months of cold weather, gray skies, and trees that looked like skeletal hands reaching out from the ground.
Elise had been upbeat all day—a fake kind of upbeat that meant she was refusing to let herself think about Carter and whichever of the Bell as had stolen her boyfriend. But now, Elise wasn’t even trying to sound happy. “I can’t believe my mother said I would do this. Like I don’t do enough free babysitting as it is. I swear, there must be some sign on my shirt that says ‘This girl is a professional nose-wiper.’”
“Tell me about it,” I said. “We’re babysitting so our moms can make cookies for the homecoming dance, and I bet I don’t even get asked to go.” Elise sized me up after this statement. “You may have a point. We have to work on your guy skills.” I wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or insulted by that suggestion. After all, I had already been trying to improve my guy skills. Or at least I’d been trying to improve myself, which should have automatically improved my attractiveness.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She let her gaze run over me in a mournful sort of way—the way someone looks at a stained shirt that might be beyond saving. “You’re too serious,” she said. “You don’t send out a ‘fun’ vibe.”
I bristled. “Just because a person is serious, doesn’t mean they aren’t fun.” And really, I wasn’t even sure I was serious. Anjie had never accused me of being serious.
“You know what we ought to do,” Elise said, ignoring my assertion. “We ought to go up on campus and pretend to be college students. It would be so easy to pick up cute guys there.”
“I don’t think my parents would like that.”
“Which is why we won’t tell them about it,” she said with an air of stating the obvious. “Why are you so concerned about what your parents think?
You’re an only child. Take advantage of it. Your chances of being disowned are slim.”
“Yes, but my chances of being grounded are high.”
Elise flicked her hand in my direction. “You admit you live under an oppressive dictatorship and yet you do nothing to resist. Exercise some civil disobedience. Haven’t you ever read Thoreau?”
“Yeah, and I don’t remember a chapter on picking up college guys.”
She kicked at some leaves and they fluttered limply off the sidewalk. “Well, it’s not like we have to give the guys our real names.” I sent her a look of disbelief.
“Oh, come on. Carter is probably making out with my ex-best friend even as we speak. I need to have something fun to look forward to this weekend.”
It was getting dark enough that the streetlights
so that dads could watch children while their wives were out doing things—but it wouldn’t have done any good. Mom hadn’t let me buy a quilt so I could skip out on making one from scratch. I knew she wouldn’t let me go AWOL on babysitting. I was just glad that Mrs. Taylor had invited Mrs.
Benson to help make cookies, because Mrs. Benson had volunteered Elise to babysit too. Otherwise I would have been stuck all night with Samantha and her evil cheerleading twin, Chelsea.
Elise and I walked over to the Taylor’s together, slowly strolling down the street. Autumn had reached the trees, and orange leaves scattered around our feet. When I was little I loved seeing the trees like this, dressed up in fancy colors. I still liked them, but I couldn’t forget that this spurt of sunset colors meant that winter was coming. Months of cold weather, gray skies, and trees that looked like skeletal hands reaching out from the ground.
Elise had been upbeat all day—a fake kind of upbeat that meant she was refusing to let herself think about Carter and whichever of the Bell as had stolen her boyfriend. But now, Elise wasn’t even trying to sound happy. “I can’t believe my mother said I would do this. Like I don’t do enough free babysitting as it is. I swear, there must be some sign on my shirt that says ‘This girl is a professional nose-wiper.’”
“Tell me about it,” I said. “We’re babysitting so our moms can make cookies for the homecoming dance, and I bet I don’t even get asked to go.” Elise sized me up after this statement. “You may have a point. We have to work on your guy skills.” I wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or insulted by that suggestion. After all, I had already been trying to improve my guy skills. Or at least I’d been trying to improve myself, which should have automatically improved my attractiveness.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She let her gaze run over me in a mournful sort of way—the way someone looks at a stained shirt that might be beyond saving. “You’re too serious,” she said. “You don’t send out a ‘fun’ vibe.”
I bristled. “Just because a person is serious, doesn’t mean they aren’t fun.” And really, I wasn’t even sure I was serious. Anjie had never accused me of being serious.
“You know what we ought to do,” Elise said, ignoring my assertion. “We ought to go up on campus and pretend to be college students. It would be so easy to pick up cute guys there.”
“I don’t think my parents would like that.”
“Which is why we won’t tell them about it,” she said with an air of stating the obvious. “Why are you so concerned about what your parents think?
You’re an only child. Take advantage of it. Your chances of being disowned are slim.”
“Yes, but my chances of being grounded are high.”
Elise flicked her hand in my direction. “You admit you live under an oppressive dictatorship and yet you do nothing to resist. Exercise some civil disobedience. Haven’t you ever read Thoreau?”
“Yeah, and I don’t remember a chapter on picking up college guys.”
She kicked at some leaves and they fluttered limply off the sidewalk. “Well, it’s not like we have to give the guys our real names.” I sent her a look of disbelief.
“Oh, come on. Carter is probably making out with my ex-best friend even as we speak. I need to have something fun to look forward to this weekend.”
It was getting dark enough that the streetlights
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