was fun, Daddy. Really, really fun.”
6
Merry
I raced up the steps of Duffy-Parkman, skidded down the hall, and then flew into my dormitory room. Olive was propped up on one elbow, lying on her cot and staring at the wall. I counted myself lucky it was Olive. She never bothered anyone, she just read, and read and read as though she was holding her breath until her parents came back, which they never would, since they’d died in a car crash. Olive didn’t have a single family-person in the world, unless you counted an ancient aunt locked up in an old-person place.
All the Duffy dorms were the same, three cots lined up on one wall, three on the other. A tiny night table separated each bed. My lucky break was having an end bed so I could lean against the wall.
Seeing me, Olive retrieved her library book from where she’d hidden it behind her pillow. Only Lulu read more than Olive, but Lulu didn’t have to pretend she didn’t. Lulu scared most of the girls, except for the super-tough ones, like Kelli.
I stripped off my jumper and white blouse. After hesitating, I peeledoff my sweaty kneesocks, too, which were disgusting from an entire day wearing the plasticky Mary Jane shoes Grandma had bought me back in September. I reached for my last clean socks, knowing they were the only ones left before laundry day, which wasn’t for two more days. I’d have to wear them again tomorrow and Monday, but I wanted something clean right now. I sniffed my two pairs of pants to find the cleanest ones.
Lulu yelled at me for not planning things better, but sometimes I needed something that felt good so much, I couldn’t stop myself.
I peeked over at Olive, who held
Trixie Belden and the Mystery of the Missing Heiress
about an inch from her nose. “Hey, Olive, want to come hang out with us?”
Us
was Janine, Crystal, and me. Janine, whose parents took her home every few months until they started drinking again, looked like a miniature Diana Ross. She had huge eyes and was superskinny-beautiful. Crystal’s blond hair made me crazy jealous. It went down past her waist, and the counselors at Duffy liked to brush it and braid and twist it into fancy styles. Crystal’s parents died in a fire.
We’d been together for over two years. When we were Bluebirds, the youngest and littlest, the floor mothers and counselors picked us to sit on their laps during TV hour. Now that we were Redbirds, nobody cuddled us much anymore, but we passed out the popcorn, and sometimes we leaned against a counselor during Saturday-night TV time.
“I think I’ll just read,” Olive said.
“Okay,” I said. I didn’t have to watch out for anyone teasing Olive. No group claimed her, but no one teased her either.
I looked both ways and ran to the art room. Mrs. Parker-Peckerhead only allowed us to hang out in three places besides our dorms. One was the game room, an old classroom with holes where desks had been unbolted. None of the games had all the pieces. Second was the lounge, which had a television and a radio. Everyone hung out in the lounge, but that’s where the worst fights happened, too.
Third was the art room, where my friends and I went. An old pickle tub filled with crayons and colored pencils, outdated magazines, and stacks of used paper donated by some company made up our art supplies. We drew princesses and puppies on the backs of insurance reports and order forms.
Janine and Crystal bent over their pictures. Janine traced the outlines of the paper dolls we’d made from magazine ads, making the dolls new outfits. Crystal, the best artist of all the Redbirds, labored over the mountains she’d drawn coming up from behind a castle.
“How’s your grandma?” Janine asked.
“Okay.” I never complained about Grandma; at least I had someone to visit. Janine’s parents only came when they took her home two or three times a year. We always believed Janine was leaving Duffy for good, and cried and hugged until a housemother
6
Merry
I raced up the steps of Duffy-Parkman, skidded down the hall, and then flew into my dormitory room. Olive was propped up on one elbow, lying on her cot and staring at the wall. I counted myself lucky it was Olive. She never bothered anyone, she just read, and read and read as though she was holding her breath until her parents came back, which they never would, since they’d died in a car crash. Olive didn’t have a single family-person in the world, unless you counted an ancient aunt locked up in an old-person place.
All the Duffy dorms were the same, three cots lined up on one wall, three on the other. A tiny night table separated each bed. My lucky break was having an end bed so I could lean against the wall.
Seeing me, Olive retrieved her library book from where she’d hidden it behind her pillow. Only Lulu read more than Olive, but Lulu didn’t have to pretend she didn’t. Lulu scared most of the girls, except for the super-tough ones, like Kelli.
I stripped off my jumper and white blouse. After hesitating, I peeledoff my sweaty kneesocks, too, which were disgusting from an entire day wearing the plasticky Mary Jane shoes Grandma had bought me back in September. I reached for my last clean socks, knowing they were the only ones left before laundry day, which wasn’t for two more days. I’d have to wear them again tomorrow and Monday, but I wanted something clean right now. I sniffed my two pairs of pants to find the cleanest ones.
Lulu yelled at me for not planning things better, but sometimes I needed something that felt good so much, I couldn’t stop myself.
I peeked over at Olive, who held
Trixie Belden and the Mystery of the Missing Heiress
about an inch from her nose. “Hey, Olive, want to come hang out with us?”
Us
was Janine, Crystal, and me. Janine, whose parents took her home every few months until they started drinking again, looked like a miniature Diana Ross. She had huge eyes and was superskinny-beautiful. Crystal’s blond hair made me crazy jealous. It went down past her waist, and the counselors at Duffy liked to brush it and braid and twist it into fancy styles. Crystal’s parents died in a fire.
We’d been together for over two years. When we were Bluebirds, the youngest and littlest, the floor mothers and counselors picked us to sit on their laps during TV hour. Now that we were Redbirds, nobody cuddled us much anymore, but we passed out the popcorn, and sometimes we leaned against a counselor during Saturday-night TV time.
“I think I’ll just read,” Olive said.
“Okay,” I said. I didn’t have to watch out for anyone teasing Olive. No group claimed her, but no one teased her either.
I looked both ways and ran to the art room. Mrs. Parker-Peckerhead only allowed us to hang out in three places besides our dorms. One was the game room, an old classroom with holes where desks had been unbolted. None of the games had all the pieces. Second was the lounge, which had a television and a radio. Everyone hung out in the lounge, but that’s where the worst fights happened, too.
Third was the art room, where my friends and I went. An old pickle tub filled with crayons and colored pencils, outdated magazines, and stacks of used paper donated by some company made up our art supplies. We drew princesses and puppies on the backs of insurance reports and order forms.
Janine and Crystal bent over their pictures. Janine traced the outlines of the paper dolls we’d made from magazine ads, making the dolls new outfits. Crystal, the best artist of all the Redbirds, labored over the mountains she’d drawn coming up from behind a castle.
“How’s your grandma?” Janine asked.
“Okay.” I never complained about Grandma; at least I had someone to visit. Janine’s parents only came when they took her home two or three times a year. We always believed Janine was leaving Duffy for good, and cried and hugged until a housemother
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