it?”
“Buckeye died a very long time ago. He was a beautiful blue parrot, but he had the foulest tongue you ever heard. He choked on a peanut shell and that was that.”
“That’s really sad,” Aster murmured. She couldn’t imagine losing Larkspur in such a way.
“Yeah, it was damn sad. And it still hurts. The bonds with these animals are deep and you feel it forever when they’re cut.” She unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Girls! Front and center!”
Aster found herself shrinking back as an army of footsteps thundered down the stairs and on the wood floors from all around the house. The girls filed into the room, first looking at Miss Ivy. Then all eyes went to Aster . She suddenly wished a hole would open up in the air behind her so she could run home.
-6-
The girls of Oasis Shelter observed her with a combination of smiles, ambivalence, and rai sed eyebrows—the latter directed mostly at Aster’s pink hair. Aster tried to convince her mother to let her change the color to something more natural, but she had refused. “It’s a waste of good magic to cover u p your most unique feature . People will like it. You’ll see. ”
Aster guessed this was the moment of truth.
Ivy stepped forward to make introductions. “Girls, this is Aster. She’ll be stayin’ with us for awhile. Treat her as one of us, because that’s exactly what she is.”
Most of the girls waved and murmured hellos, except one. “She doesn’t look like one of us.” The others parted and turned to look at the one who spoke. She was pale-faced waif with a bony, lanky body and short, spiky black hair. Her arms, which were crossed in front of her and comple tely uncovered by the sleeveless shirt she wore, were covered in pink and white scars. One or two were still in the scab stage. Eyeliner rimmed her eyes in thick, black smudges, making her look as if someone had beaten her up. The girl seemed to study every inch of Aster, starting with her shoes and ending at her hair. “Looks like one of the Amish girls got off the reservation and met up with a jar of Manic Panic.”
A pink bubble escaped from her grin and popped. She then sucked it back in and kept chewing in slow chomps. Aster was familiar with gum, but none that made bubbles quite like that. It was just another interesting bit of magic she hadn’t expected.
A few of the other girls snickered, but Ivy hushed them up. “Ruby, you don’t look much like any of us either. Seems you two have somethin’ in common. In fact, you can share rooms.”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Great.”
Aster felt her stomach drop. This girl seemed about as friendly as Aunt Oleander.
“I like your hair,” said another girl, who barely spoke above a whisper. This one had stringy blonde locks and a very timid posture, with shoulders that practically touched her ears. There was a faded b ut still very visible bruise beneath one eye. Aster was immediately reminded of Aunt Holly.
Aster smiled and searched for something on the poor girl she could compliment as well. “Thanks. I like your shirt.” It was plain black and nothing special, but it was the best she could think of on the spot.
“That’s Mary,” said another girl, a tall red-head with a short ponytail. “ She’s new here too. Well, maybe not new new. She’s been in and out. I’m Tonya. I like your hair too. Kinda punky for the ‘burbs, thoug h. But it’s cool .”
“We’ll finish up with the introductions ove r dinner,” said Ivy. “ And by the way it smells in here, I’d say we’re having pizza.”
A plump girl in a blue apron raised her hand. “But I made pancakes, Miss Ivy.”
Everyone burst out laughing, and with that, Aster felt the energy in th e room change . She let out a breath she felt like she’d been holding since she stepped through the Tree of Doors.
“All right then, you girls get the table set. Except you, Ruby. Show Aster your room.” Ivy handed her one of Aster’s bags while Aster carried
“Buckeye died a very long time ago. He was a beautiful blue parrot, but he had the foulest tongue you ever heard. He choked on a peanut shell and that was that.”
“That’s really sad,” Aster murmured. She couldn’t imagine losing Larkspur in such a way.
“Yeah, it was damn sad. And it still hurts. The bonds with these animals are deep and you feel it forever when they’re cut.” She unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Girls! Front and center!”
Aster found herself shrinking back as an army of footsteps thundered down the stairs and on the wood floors from all around the house. The girls filed into the room, first looking at Miss Ivy. Then all eyes went to Aster . She suddenly wished a hole would open up in the air behind her so she could run home.
-6-
The girls of Oasis Shelter observed her with a combination of smiles, ambivalence, and rai sed eyebrows—the latter directed mostly at Aster’s pink hair. Aster tried to convince her mother to let her change the color to something more natural, but she had refused. “It’s a waste of good magic to cover u p your most unique feature . People will like it. You’ll see. ”
Aster guessed this was the moment of truth.
Ivy stepped forward to make introductions. “Girls, this is Aster. She’ll be stayin’ with us for awhile. Treat her as one of us, because that’s exactly what she is.”
Most of the girls waved and murmured hellos, except one. “She doesn’t look like one of us.” The others parted and turned to look at the one who spoke. She was pale-faced waif with a bony, lanky body and short, spiky black hair. Her arms, which were crossed in front of her and comple tely uncovered by the sleeveless shirt she wore, were covered in pink and white scars. One or two were still in the scab stage. Eyeliner rimmed her eyes in thick, black smudges, making her look as if someone had beaten her up. The girl seemed to study every inch of Aster, starting with her shoes and ending at her hair. “Looks like one of the Amish girls got off the reservation and met up with a jar of Manic Panic.”
A pink bubble escaped from her grin and popped. She then sucked it back in and kept chewing in slow chomps. Aster was familiar with gum, but none that made bubbles quite like that. It was just another interesting bit of magic she hadn’t expected.
A few of the other girls snickered, but Ivy hushed them up. “Ruby, you don’t look much like any of us either. Seems you two have somethin’ in common. In fact, you can share rooms.”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Great.”
Aster felt her stomach drop. This girl seemed about as friendly as Aunt Oleander.
“I like your hair,” said another girl, who barely spoke above a whisper. This one had stringy blonde locks and a very timid posture, with shoulders that practically touched her ears. There was a faded b ut still very visible bruise beneath one eye. Aster was immediately reminded of Aunt Holly.
Aster smiled and searched for something on the poor girl she could compliment as well. “Thanks. I like your shirt.” It was plain black and nothing special, but it was the best she could think of on the spot.
“That’s Mary,” said another girl, a tall red-head with a short ponytail. “ She’s new here too. Well, maybe not new new. She’s been in and out. I’m Tonya. I like your hair too. Kinda punky for the ‘burbs, thoug h. But it’s cool .”
“We’ll finish up with the introductions ove r dinner,” said Ivy. “ And by the way it smells in here, I’d say we’re having pizza.”
A plump girl in a blue apron raised her hand. “But I made pancakes, Miss Ivy.”
Everyone burst out laughing, and with that, Aster felt the energy in th e room change . She let out a breath she felt like she’d been holding since she stepped through the Tree of Doors.
“All right then, you girls get the table set. Except you, Ruby. Show Aster your room.” Ivy handed her one of Aster’s bags while Aster carried
Similar Books
