EIGHTEEN
There were a lot of emails, and they all started the same.
“First we want to welcome you and your family to Greenville and congratulate you on your new position at Greenville High School.”
Like laying out the carpet at the entrance of a torture chamber. A “Welcome” carpet to go with the wreaths on every Greenville front door, wreaths like the one Lucy had added to our door a day earlier—one with a little tiny birdhouse on it.
Then the tone took a hard right into terse.
“It is with great consternation that I, [insert name of parent here], am writing. I am greatly concerned that since your arrival there has been a shift in values at Greenville. The citizens at Greenville are citizens who value traditions and history. The choice of school play, along with many other choices made under your purview, have all been made in discrimination against the people who have lived in this community for many years. And if this does not change, we will have no choice but to notify the school board.”
“It’s PETER PA N!” I fumed, bolting up from the couch, lightly tripping over a napping Monty’s tail and then gathering my footing in time to not crash into the coffee table.
Lucy drained her wine.
“They’re just being homophobic and stupid,” I hollered. “What, so just because Sarah can’t act in anything but Our Town no one gets to do anything?! So she gets to say she’s being discriminated against and then she gets her way?”
“This isn’t just about a play.” Millie dropped into the love seat.
“I read you the letter so you would know what’s going on,” Lucy said, clicking her laptop shut, “because this is your school too. But this is my job, and I am going to deal with it.”
“How are you even responsible for the play?” I charged.
“School arts is something I look after as part of my administration’s duties,” Lucy clarified, after a sip of wine. “Under Principal Lynde, of course.”
“Can Lynde cancel the play?” I asked.
“I truly have no idea right now what Principal Lynde will do.” Lucy looked over at me. She had dark circles under her eyes. “But I will talk to her. And you, in the meantime, will focus on school. All right?”
“What about—”
Millie pulled herself out of her chair. “Nope. That’s it. For right now. You let your mom handle this. For now. . .” She whistled and Monty popped up like a popped popcorn. “Let’s get some burgers.”
“Good idea,” Lucy said.
“Okay.” My insides felt like a knot.
“It’s going to be okay,” Lucy whispered as she leaned over and grabbed me in a hug.
“Okay,” I said, pressing the two tears that came out into Lucy’s sleeve.
“HEY! Burgers! Let’s go!”
The burger stand was thumping with music and Greenville teenagers by the time we got there. So Vice Principal Shirley and Peter Pan Shirley opted to stay in the car while Millie, who was also the hungriest, went and ordered the burgers and shakes from the counter.
“Mr. Davidson said to say, ‘Hang in there,’ ” I told Lucy, while Monty panted hot dog breath into my face.
“Mr. Davidson is pretty great,” Lucy said. “He’s lived here his whole life.”
“He’s a local,” I said, “but he has flair.”
“Other locals don’t have flair?” Lucy mused.
There was a soft tap on the window.
Berry waved on the other side of the glass.
I rolled down the window, shoving Monty back. “Hey!”
“Hey,” Berry said. “Uh, hey. Vice Principal Shirley.”
“Berry.” Lucy put on her cordial principal voice. “Nice to see you.”
“Yeah, uh.” Berry stepped back, slightly shrinking into her coveralls. “My parents want to say hello. So, here we go.” She turned to address the very tall, very hip-looking adults standing behind her. “Okay, say hi and that’s it.”
Berry’s father wore faded coveralls. He had a friendly face and the same hair as Berry, only not tied up and green. Berry’s mom was a little more Greenville standard in khaki shorts and a Greenville sweatshirt.
“Hello.” They waved in sync.
“I’m Harry.” Berry’s father pointed at his chest. “This is Sophie.”
“It’s so lovely to meet you finally,” Sophie gushed, causing Berry to cringe. “We’ve heard so much about you, Anne!”
I stuck my head farther out the window, which was a little squished because Monty was doing the same. “So much! You don’t say!” I waggled my eyebrows at Berry. “Well, that’s pretty cool!”
Berry rolled her eyes.
“I know Anne feels the same,” Lucy confided, out loud, to everyone within earshot. “She’s very lucky to have a friend like Berry.”
“I mean, after all she’s been through with those other girls.” Sophie put a hand on Berry’s back, which might have very well been made of fire from the expression on Berry’s face. “I was just saying to Harry the other day—”
Millie returned with a tray of burgers, giving Berry time to slip away from her mother’s hand and give me a look of solid mortification. I returned the look with a psychic message acknowledging that sometimes we don’t want our moms to speak the things they speak.
Other girls. Like Gilly, I assumed.
And then a thin thread of Monty drool dropped onto my shoulder and I pinwheeled back into the car. “GAH! MONT-STER! OH MY GOD, THAT’S SO GROSS!”
“We’ll let you enjoy your supper,” I heard Harry say as I desperately wiped the pool of drool off my neck with the front of my shirt.
“What a nice family,” Lucy sighed. “You’re very fortunate to find a friend here so fast.”
I nodded, shoving my burger in my mouth before Monty got a chance to slobber on it.
I think the world is a little easier to deal with after you’ve eaten.
When we got home, Lucy holed up with her computer in the living room, and I pulled out my script for Peter Pan. As far as I knew, the show was still on. Mr. Davidson didn’t seem like he was giving up, yet.
A few pages in, I started getting a string of very embarrassed texts from Berry.
BERRY
I think we should all thank my mom for making sure our first meeting was as awkward as possible
ANNE
I wasn’t embarrassed!
ANNE
Finally I got to meet the only other person in Greenville with any musical taste!
BERRY
Yeah u guys didn’t get to compare notes
ANNE
Next time
BERRY
I heard about Sarah’s protest!!!
ANNE
Yeah
BERRY
And the emails
BERRY
FYI my mom didn’t send one.
ANNE
Good
ANNE
My mom is dealing w it
BERRY
Good
I rolled over on my back into a pile of what could have been either cat or dog hair, which I then had to peel off my body while my phone buzzed.
With a phone call.
A phone call?
“Hey.” The voice on the other end of the phone was soft, almost a whisper.
“Hello?”
“It’s Gilly.”
“Oh! Hey!” My stomach did a nervous flip.
“Is now okay? To talk?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” I looked around. Bjorn looked up at me from his spot on my bed. It was that solid cat look of You are bothering me by just existing. “Um. How’s your ankle?”
“Oh. Sprained. Not too bad, though. So I’ll be back in a few days. Just got a little boot cast.”
“Great. I mean, it’s good it’s not broken. Right?”
Then there was literally a one-minute pause where I wondered if Gilly had hung up after giving me an update on her cast.
“I heard about. . .Sarah’s protest. About the play?”
“Yeah. That kind of sucked.”
There was a shuffling sound in the background, making me wonder if Gilly was alone. “I just think, maybe, like, if you could talk to Sarah, it might change her mind.”
My stomach took a pause from flopping around in my insides to drop into my ankles. Like how much did this sound like Gilly’s last idea, that I should sign up for the play? A suggestion that led me straight into a deluge of homophobic slurs?
“Um.” I bit my lip. “Yeah, I don’t know. Gilly. I think. I don’t think me talking to Sarah is a great idea.”
“I just thought—” I could hear Gilly’s lips get closer to the phone. Or I was picturing it. “If you talked to her, face-to-face, that it could be different?”
This time it was my turn to sit in silence.
“I mean, it doesn’t have to be all bad. You know? If she knew you, instead of just having this idea of you? I mean, I talked to you and I think you’re really great. And you’re so nice. They don’t know that. . .about you.”
“Gilly. . .”
“Tanner’s having a party, tomorrow, at his house. You could come. I’m inviting you, and then maybe you guys could all talk at the party? Just talk it out outside of school? Or if you don’t want to talk, that’s also fine. And we could all just hang out together.”
So here’s the thing. Like, by high school rules and based on my Greenville High experience, there was no way in heck this would work. Sarah Pye and Tanner Spencer were not people who were going to have their minds changed by one of my witty party jokes (although I do have some good ones). But. But. If I could do this. If it could work.
Then wouldn’t that fix everything? And make Lucy’s life better? And the show would go on? And maybe I could show Berry that Gilly had changed? And maybe she had? Because the person I met a few days earlier in the woods covered in mud was really nice and I liked that person?
And she just said I was “great.”
“Hello?”
“Yeah. Okay. Maybe.” I shifted slightly in my spot on the bed, sending Bjorn running off in disgust. “Can I bring Berry?”
“Sure.”
I couldn’t tell if she was happy or not. “Okay. Well. I’ll see you tomorrow. At the party?”
“Yeah! I’ll text you the address!”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye!”
Possibly, if you are reading this, you are thinking something along the lines of what Millie says all the time. Which is, just because you have a logic for your actions and can explain that logic at length, doesn’t mean that action is logical.
Damn Millie and her insights that I can only ever appreciate in hindsight.
So yes, this whole party thing, you are possibly thinking, was a terrible idea.
ANNE
Hey! What are you doing tomorrow?
BERRY
Nothing. Why?
ANNE
Do you want to come to a party with me?
BERRY
A Greenville Party?
ANNE
Yes.
BERRY
Whose?
ANNE
Tanner’s?
You would not be alone in that thinking.