Red Thread Sisters (9781101591857) by Carol Antoinette Peacock Page A

upset Emily so badly her parents had decided they couldn’t have two daughters after all. And they loved Emily the best. Of course they did. Emily was first. So Wen had to go.
    At breakfast the next morning Wen waited for her mother or father to announce that they’d decided it was time for her to pack her things. Instead, her mother cheerfully poured her orange juice and Emily was busy stirring raisins into her oatmeal. Wen nibbled on her toast and passed Emily the milk even before she asked.
    That morning, she took the school bus for the first time. She sat with Emily, who seemed to have forgotten all about the night before. Emily bounced up and down on the seat.
    â€œSee, Wennie, aren’t buses fun?”
    Later, at her new desk, Wen took her phone out of her pocket and set it right in the middle of her desk, hoping that the nice girl, Hannah, would notice and get her number. Maybe the other girls would ask too. Hannah and Sophie were already at their seats. Just as Hannah turned toward Wen, Michelle rushed into the room.
    â€œHey, check out what I got!” Michelle arched her body to show off a light blue jacket with no sleeves, its edges lined in white fuzz
.
    Why
would a jacket have no sleeves?
Wen wondered.
    â€œDon’t worry, the vest is fake fur. It’s not from a killed animal or anything.” She tossed her blonde hair off her shoulders.
    Wen kept her eyes on her silver phone, gleaming in the middle of her desk. Nobody noticed or asked for her number. What good was a cell phone if you had nobody to call? She pushed it to the back of her desk, hidden under her extra sweatshirt and English book.
    At recess, by the fence, Wen saw Hannah, Michelle, and Sophie gathered under a big tree. Michelle was weaving Hannah’s hair into two thick braids.
    Wen could almost feel Shu Ling’s hair, heavy in her fingers. Every spring, Wen and Shu Ling had climbed past the gully to the peony fields. They gathered the big blossoms, their soft pink petals radiant in the sunlight. Then they took turns lacing the flowers into each other’s hair. When they returned to the orphanage, they kept some peonies in their pockets, to dry, until the next spring came.
    Now as she watched Hannah, Michelle, and Sophie braid one another’s hair, Wen could almost smell the sweetness of the peonies lingering as she sat, all alone, on the grass.
    That afternoon, Wen took the bus home, with Emily beside her, chattering about something so fast that Wen could barely make out her words. All around her, Wen heard kids shouting. As the bus swerved around corners, she clung to Emily so she wouldn’t fall off her seat.
    When she got home that afternoon, Wen saw her mother in the kitchen, waiting for her. “How was school today?” she asked.
    â€œOK.” Wen avoided her mother’s eager gaze.
    Wen went into the backyard and scuffed through the fallen leaves. The harder she kicked, the more brown leaves scattered into the air, making a dry, rustling sound before they fell back to the ground.
    Then, at the far end of the backyard, Wen noticed a tiny hill, like the dusty space in back of the orphanage. Wen climbed the hill, pretending she was walking toward Shu Ling. When she made it to the top, she stopped, and then began to spin.
    As she spun, she could practically see Shu Ling perched on the old tires. The spinning game, they had called it. Wen would stand straight as a reed, spread both arms, and begin to twirl. Every time she spun by Shu Ling, she fixed her eyes on her. Catching Shu Ling’s face every rotation helped her keep her balance. When she got too dizzy, she collapsed on the dirt, her head whirring, her eyes closed. Finally, she would open her eyes to see Shu Ling, hovering over her.
    â€œFaster than ever,
mei mei,
” Shu Ling always said. “Fastest yet.”
    Now as she whirled, she tried to imagine Shu Ling, anchoring her. But instead she just caught glimpses of folded-up lawn