The New Girl Part 1

PART 1



Katie tried to warn me. She and I both knew that Southern Jersey was why New Jersey had the reputation it had earned. What could I do? Daddy got transferred and kicking and screaming, we moved to the shore.

I suppose my mom saw it as some sort of adventure for the family. We never even vacationed there, in South Jersey. I resisted the temptation to bad mouth our relocation in front of my parents. To my older brother James, however, I discussed the situation at length. The lucky boy only had one more year until college while I would have to endure four years of shore kids and South Jersey culture.

* * *

“Cheer up, Carly! It’s not like we’re sending you off to high school in Siberia, honey,” Daddy said with a grin on his face.

“Mmm…” was all I could get out at the moment. I hated to disappoint him. I did not blame him for my anxiety and frustration. Or disgust.

“That’s right, Car. I hear Ocean High has a spectacular cheering program,” James smirked.

He and I both knew cheerleading was something I mocked all throughout middle school. I had no plans whatsoever of becoming involved in such a classless sport. If you could even call it that. I flicked a cheerio, aiming for his eye. I missed. I loved my brother a lot, but he certainly knew how to push my buttons.

“Freak! What are you going to do without being captain of the top-ranked quiz bowl team in New Jersey?”

“Ouch!” James responded, laughing. I guess I hadn’t quite mastered pushing his buttons. Or maybe he was just being slightly more optimistic and mature about this than me.

My mom seemed strangely absent from the discussion. She kept peering through our large kitchen window, staring at the overgrown yard to the left. She then switched her glance to the right and noticed a decaying pile of wood. She sighed so quietly that the men in the room completely missed it.

Katie had wanted one final sleepover with me before I left for Ocean City, New Jersey. I was not sure how I felt about it. I loved her to death and it seemed unbearable to spend a whole night rehashing what had been, desperately trying to delay the inevitable. In the end, though, she had convinced me. Thank, God! It turned out to be a fabulous junk-food fest and Chad Michael Murray marathon. Katie loved him, even though he seemed a little old for her. Just saying.

Katie was the ‘stand by you,’ loves you forever type of friend. Maybe I didn’t always bear my innermost thoughts or desires with her, but I always believed she would be there, accepting and loving. She was like that with pretty much everyone, almost.

* * *

James drove us to the dungeon that was Ocean High School and we arrived with ten minutes to spare. Usually I had to flick his light on and off a million times before he even shifted in his bed. Maybe I could change his night-owl nature and hatred of early mornings now that we went to the same school. And he was my ride. High school. It felt almost weird to say.

I’d always imagined Katie coming over at the crack of dawn, outfit in hand, helping me pick out my own ensemble once she got there. She had that flare for fashion. Then she would help me with my hair, creating some totally chic style that seemed to flow straight out of her mind to her hands. Oh Katie…

“Alright, Car…I’ll pick you up right here at 2:50pm. Don’t be late---I’m hanging out with Jordan right after school. He’s going to help me with my jump shot,” he said, half-laughing.

“Right, J. Kobe Bryant couldn’t help you…but Jordan is nice…”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Car. Let me know how you do in those cheerleading squad tryouts. Maybe you can be the one they hoist to the top of the pyramid.”

“Whatever. Let’s just see if Jordan, a talented, rising high school star, can even get you to make one basket by the end of the night. From the free throw line.” Funny thing was, I knew more about basketball than James, I thought. I wasn’t even sure if James knew where the free throw line was. Wait till Jordan tried to get him to try a three-pointer.

Jordan was our cousin, same age as James, now same school. Too bad he was an only child. No easy friendship for little sis. Stay positive, I told myself. And the day started on somewhat of a high note. If you could call it that.

“Who’s that?!” asked one tall, blonde skater boy with super shaggy bleached hair, as I walked down the hall. He seemed interested, not mocking. Hmm. I guess the mini-jean skirt and Roxy tee were enough to impress guys here. At least this particular skater boy.

“Hey, lady. What’s your name?” he called to me, forcing me to turn around. Kinda sketchy looking, as I got a decent look at him. Sort of like some guy Katie had an embarrassingly long six-month intensive crush on back in 7th grade.

“New girl,” I answered plainly. “Why do you care?”

“G, I care about showing you O High and getting you in with the right crowd.”

Oh, geez. Skater-guy thinks his crowd and mine are the same. What inverse universe was this place? I mean…really?

“Oh ok, bud. Well all I need is to find room 303. Can you help me with that?”

“I could give you the directions but I’ll take you there. You’ll remember better that way, k?”

“Sure…” The attention was…well cute at the best and going to make me late if skater didn’t lead me this second. Which he did, thankfully. Ok, Carly, you can do this, I told myself, trying to keep myself encouraged.

Room 303. Miss Angela Smith for freshmen English. Honors. Hah! This ought to be good. I had heard horror stories about the school district’s academic program, if you could call it that. As I carefully opened the door, my mouth gaped a little. Miss Smith looked about as old as James, maybe a year older. If she was lucky. Geez. She was wearing a cute skirt suit, gray pinstripe. I guess she was trying to compensate for her high-school age looks. Good luck, Miss S!

“Hey, are you new here?” a very studious looking girl called from the center of the front row. Her hair was pulled tightly back in a high pony tail. Her sleek, black hair looked too smooth and healthy to be yanked back like that. Her pale skin was delicate, almost pore-less. Like porcelain or something. Her autumn brown eyes and glasses made her look older…maybe as old as Miss S! Not like that was such a feat.

“Yeah, I am…” I relied shyly.

“I’m Mackenzie Miller. Who are you?” she responded, staring for a moment into my own greenish-blue eyes. I had been told many times that these were my best feature.

“Uh…Carly. Carly Rissler.”

“Rissler? Hmm…” Mackenzie seemed to be trying to rack her brain for any Risslers she knew, coming up blank. It did not surprise me.

“Yeah we just moved here from North Jersey.”

“Oh.” Mackenzie replied, a little short.

“Yeah, but my dad’s originally from Lancaster, Pennsylvania. You know ‘Amish Country’ or whatever. And my mom’s family is from Maryland, originally.”

“Oh, ok!” she replied, more interested now.

Right then, Miss Smith raised her voice, trying desperately to gain control of the class.

I caught Mackenzie’s eye, rolling my own. She just smiled back, flashing a smile with the whitest, straightest teeth I had seen, aside from those Seventeen models, I guess.

She wasn’t wearing anything special, you know. A pair of light-washed, flare jeans and a Yankees tee-shirt. Tall and athletically built. The complete opposite of me. 5 foot 2, barely. With rounded hips and quite a bust, I did look much like an athlete. My mom was always telling me about curves being such an appeal for men. Woot.

“Alliteration is the repetition of a consonant sound. Like, Carly caught a case of constant shivers. The hard “c” sound was repeated throughout the sentence.”

So she was smart, too! I always got assonance and alliteration mixed up. Yet she was so confident about it. Like the hard C in her example. I wonder, suddenly, why she used my name in that example. When Miss S wasn’t looking, she had winked at me. For some reason, I really wanted to be Mackenzie’s friend, maybe even sit with her at lunch. It would be nice to know at least one friendly face. Skater-boy didn’t count, thank you very much. Though I’m sure he thought he did.

The rest of the day was less like first period. Mackenzie didn’t show up in the cafeteria during fifth and Ms. Jacob’s history class during sixth period was the longest forty minutes of the day. Study hall with Skater-boy (his name was Chad, he told me) 7th and Algebra, my least favorite subject, to end the day had me eying my Itouch longingly and staring at the room clock every five seconds. Math was something I quite frankly hated.

I found my locker for the first time after the last class, managed to open it on the second try and was ready to meet my brother promptly when I nearly jumped as someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was my new friend, Mackenzie, and she made me jump three feet.

“Sorry, Carly! I didn’t mean to scare you!” Mackenzie exclaimed.

“Oh that’s okay! I am super jumpy,” I explained, laughing it off.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to work together on that vocab project later?” she asked hesitantly.

Miss Smith had assigned a ridiculous project involving a one page story and an illustration involving at least 15 of our vocab words of the lesson. She said we could work in pairs if we wanted. Who assigned a project on the first day of school?

“Oh, God! I almost forgot about that--- yes, I would love to get together! I want to stay on Miss S’s good side, being new here and all.”

“Well it is ninth grade. We are all kind of getting fresh start, I hope. Would you mind me coming over to your house to work on it? If not, we could meet at the local library, I guess.”

I hesitated. Mom would be, on one hand, upset if I said yes without asking her first. But she would be thrilled I made a friend.

“Sure you could. I live on Baltimore Street, house number 360. I’m on the right, last block. We’re still kind of unpacking, but we’re almost done.”

“Oh, Carly, I don’t want to intrude!”

“It’s no problem whatsoever. Do you know where it is?”

“I think so. After dinner sound good? And you’re sure it will be ok?”

“Absolutely! How about seven? Will your mom drop you off?”

“Nah, I’ll ride my bike. It’s only a 10 minute ride from my house. Well, see ya then?”

“Cool! See ya at 7, Mackenzie!”

“See you later, Carly. By the way, you can call me Em if you like. Mackenzie is a mouthful.”

“Oh, but I love your name!” I blurted out.

Mackenzie just laughed. “Well either way is fine. Bye, Carly.”

* * *

Mackenzie came just a little later than seven. I made sure my room was in inspection order. And I tucked my two Coach bags neatly underneath my bed, just in case. In case Mackenzie thought all north Jersey kids were spoiled little rich kids. We were just normal kids living in the friendliest town in the state. I used to live there, anyway.

The doorbell rang and my mom answered the front door. I ran my fingers through my hair and briefly made sure I looked presentable for my guest. I heard the garage door open and smiled. My mom never let our friends into the house without taking their shoes off in the garage. I suppose Em could leave her bike in there too. My mom was so neurotic! Absolutely neurotic!

“Carly, you really live in here?” I heard Mackenize calling from the garage entrance. She had just stepped into our freshly painted kitchen. My parents had wanted dental molding, of course, cappuccino colored walls with a salmon accent. It did look great.

“Hey, Em! Glad you could make it! Yup this is my house!” I answered lightly.

“Wow,” she said, either impressed or simply in disbelief. I took it to be the first.

“Oh, you should have seen our old house! It was double the size of this one,” I blurted.

Em said nothing and she did not necessarily seem impressed. She just kept looking around the kitchen and dining room.

“Well, I guess we should start,” Em said.

“Oh yeah, we can work in my room, if that is okay with you,” I replied. Mackenzie was sort of acting strange and I definitely could not figure out why.

“Yeah, whatever works,” Mackenzie said quietly. At least she smiled, now.

* * *

Mackenzie glanced around my room briefly until she focused on one particular photograph that hung slightly off center of my double bed.

“Did you take this?” she asked, genuinely impressed with it.

“Yeah. Two years ago, in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. The sunset’s there are gorgeous!” I replied.

“Rehoboth?”

“Have you ever heard of Lewes beach?” I asked.

“Well yeah, the Cape May-Lewes ferry. I think I went on it once when I was a little girl.”

“It is the next beach from Lewes. It’s…interesting. My mom prefers Bethany, actually…” I trailed.

“Well, what’s the difference?” Em asked.

“”I don’t know really. I used to just think Rehoboth had a fun boardwalk and had better shops, but I think it’s something else…actually, I—” I stopped, not sure how to put it.

“What?”

“Well, I guess it is what you would call, umm, gay-friendly or whatever. You know what I mean?”

“Ohh..” Mackenzie replied, sort of surprised. “I guess that’s why your mom likes the other beach better?”

“Maybe,” I said, not really having thought about it much before.

“It’s absolutely breathtaking,” Mackenzie said, completely absorbed and staring distantly toward the enlarged snap shot.

“Thanks!” I said, happy something in my room was exciting her. She’d passed right over the 32 inch flatscreen and my extensive collection of DVDs, carefully and alphabetically organized. Hmm. “Em…” I began.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me something about your life. It just feels like all I do is talk about me and my family.”

“Like what? What do you want to know?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Anything. Really,” saying the last word more thoughtfully than the rest.

“Well I lived here all my life and my parents grew up here too…” she trailed, speaking emotionlessly.

“And?” I promted.

“And…here I am today. Mackenzie Miller, daughter of a fisherman and a stay at home mom.”

“My mom doesn’t work either,” I said quickly.

Em half-smiled. “Sure. Guess we’ve got something in common, then.”

“Do you have a lot of friends at Ocean?”

“Define friends, Carly.”

“People you trust, hang out with, have sleepovers, talk to…I don’t know.”

“Not really. I guess, anyway, just a few.”

“Really?” I exclaimed, a little shocked.

Again Em half-smiled and stared intently into my eyes for a moment. The little I did know about Miss Mackenzie Miller, it seemed, the more I wanted to find out. Her eyes, now glancing again to the beach sunset, were the gorgeous shade of brown autumn I had noticed in class.

“But…” I started.

“What?”

“Why not?” I asked, perplexed. Mackenzie shifted her focus now to my flatscreen and then my bay window.

“If it is really so interesting to you, ask around school.”

“I want to hear from you..”

“They think I’m weird. Different.”

“Why?” I asked, concerned.

“Where to begin, Car..”

“She used my nickname. I knew from this moment forward, it would be what Em called me. I could tell she wanted me to read between the lines, allowing her to avoid speaking whatever she was keeping inside.

“Don’t tell me if you don’t want to..”

“It’s not that. But…let’s get started on that monotonous Miss S assignment. Miss S, BS…”

I laughed. We finished the project quickly and ended up sitting on my bed, talking about nothing in particular. She never got back to the topic of her friends or lack there of. Em, all things considered in the moment, did seem different from my friends at home. She seemed a little more mature. Not so silly. Like being into the sunset picture and not hounding me on questions about boys or clothes. But it wasn’t a bad different and I could not remotely think of her as weird. The only weird thing, I thought, was why she chose to work with me on the project when she seemed more likely to work alone.

“Car, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I said easily. “Anything.”

“Why did your mom make me take off my shoes in the garage?”

I giggled. “Oh she does that with all of James and my friends. I guess to keep the carpets looking new. A lot of her friends did the same thing with their kids’ friends coming over.”

“Oh!”

“Well why did you think she made you?”

“Well I…” she hesitated.

“Yes..”

“I thought maybe-oh never mind,” she responded.

“Ok, Em. You don’t have to tell me, but, seriously, you won’t offend me.”

“Yeah, well. I guess it is just that your mom’s custom makes a lot more sense coming from your mouth then it did when I was trying to work it out in my mind.”

So Mackenzie was different. And in this moment, I realized it did not matter. Or maybe it made it all the more likely we were destined to become very good friends. We just seemed to click on some depth I had never had before. Even with Katie, I now mused.

“Car…one more question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

I guess even Em was interested in my romantic life. I smiled.

“Never have, no. You?”

“Once, but it only lasted a month. Hard to really call him a boyfriend though.”

“Why’d you want to know?”

“Just curious, Car. You seem different to me than the average 9th grade girl.”

I noted her use of the word average instead of normal. I picked up on little things like that. Nuances of language, really.

“I could definitely say the same about you, Em. I was trying to put my finger on it.”

“Well, I’m 5’ 9’’…that’s outside the land of average.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Umm…don’t mean to interrupt but, what time is it?”

I glanced at my cell phone. Oh! It had gotten late.

“Wow! 9:15pm! I guess you have to leave already?” I asked, suddenly disappointed.

“Oh, jeez. Car, yeah. My mom will freak.”

“It’s late. Let my dad drive you back. Your bike will fit in his trunk. He has an SUV.”

“Oh, no. It’s no biggie. But…maybe when we hang out again we could meet earlier?”

“Sure, that would work out. You could always spend the night sometime.”

“Maybe,” Em said, distant, hesitant.

“You don’t have to…”

“No, it’s just that-” Em, began. “Well…we’ll talk again soon. What lunch do you have?”

“5th.”

“Hmm…Well you might see me there tomorrow. I just have Latin 1 with Mrs. Dean and she seems kind of easy going.”

“I’ll see you in 1st though?”

“Of course. See you, Car.”

“Let me walk you to the garage.”

“Thanks! This was fun. Sorry if I didn’t answer all your questions. I’ll try harder next time!”

“Haha, it is all good. I had a great time!”

“See you tomorrow, then…” Em said. “Thanks for having me over. Tell your parents the same.”

“Sure! See you later, Em.”

* * *

Mackenzie was there the next day and I sat next to her since the seat had been empty yesterday. Another girl, Jamie, introduced herself and we chatted briefly about the assignment. Em looked busy, writing something out for another class. Probably history, I thought. Only after I finished talking to Jamie did she say anything to me.

“Hey there, Car,” Em, said, finally acknowledging me.

“How are you, Em?”

“Good, good.”

“Was your mom mad at you coming in so late?”

“Nah, she was asleep actually.”

Class began then and I began to wonder why she seemed quiet today. Really quiet. And I still wanted to figure out why others thought she was weird. Jamie was in my next class. Perfect opportunity to investigate.

“Jamie…” I began before Spanish class.

“Yeah?”

‘What’s up with Mackenzie?”

Jamie exchanged a quick glance with Val, another classmate.

“Well…I don’t know. It all changed last year.”

“Meaning?”

“She and I used to be friends. Pretty close even.”

“Then what happened?”

“She disappeared for a week,” Val interjected with a mocking tone.

“Why? Where’d she go?”

“No one knows for sure, Carly. We assumed she had some kind of mental breakdown. But I kind of think there was something more. I can’t explain it. But after she came back. She did not talk to anyone. She just dove into schoolwork and never talked with us again. I can sort of understand why.”

“Because people made fun of her?”

“No. But there were a million rumors going around about why she went away for a week. She was not about to explain herself. I guess that is her way…” Jamie finished.

“Honestly, Carly, I’m surprised you don’t know more than us!” Val said, laughing. “She definitely likes you.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Don’t know, Carly, but I’d watch out!” Val said emphatically.

“Do you guys have fifth lunch?” I asked, trying to normalize the conversation. And I wouldn’t mind having lunch buddies, anyway.

“I don’t but Val does. We have a group of friends in that lunch. You should definitely sit with them,” Jamie replied.

“We could always use one more! I love your Dooney & Burke purse, by the way,” Val said, looking longingly at it for a moment.

‘Thanks! I might take you up on the offer.”

* * *

Lunch came and went. I caught Em poking her hedad in for a moment and locking eyes with me briefly before turning around and leaving. Strange. I was starting to wonder if there was anything real to the claims and rumors Jamie and Val had discussed. I did not want it to be true, that she had had mental issues. There was no proof yet she had acted pretty odd today. I was on time for James today-Em did not find me at the end of the day.

“I need to find a better grocer than the one down the road. Look at these strawberries and the lettuce! I only bought them yesterday!” my mom exclaimed as we walked through the door.

“Isn’t there a Wegman’s around here?” I asked.

“Honey, I asked the neighbor and she had never heard of it!”

“Well…this is South Jersey.”

“Honey, is your friend coming over tonight? Emily?”

“Her name’s Mackenzie. She just goes by Em. And I don’t think she will be coming over tonight.”

“Hmm. She seems nice, honey, but a lot different than Katie.”

“Yeah, I know. She is cool though.”

That night I thought a lot about this girl I knew for only two days. I tossed and turned and finally fell asleep. Despite what the others said, I was inexplicably to drawn to this strange, different person. She was pretty, of course, smart and funny too. All the things you want to have in a best friend, I thought. So even if she had something happen last year, she seemed okay now.

I almost slept thought my alarm. James poked his head in the room on the third snooze period. I had a dream where Val and I were laughing about Em and her emotional breakdown. When Em found out, she took some sleeping pills and had to get her stomach pumped. Jamie, in the dream, claimed that she must have tried to kill herself. The dream disturbed me because it was so crystal clear. It felt very real. I screamed no when James came in. I think it freaked him out because he sent my worry-wart mom in to check on me.

“Honey! Wake up! Wake up! You are screaming in your sleep!”

“I. Am. Up.” I said strangely. Trying to stay calm but wanting my mom out of there made it difficult.

“Are you okay? What did you dream about?”

“Nothing. A big black hole of nothing.”

“Well. If that’s the way you’re going to be!” my mom snapped. Clearly, she was hurt. Oh well, I thought.

Images of Em flooded back at that moment, distorted pictures now, from the dream. I had to talk to her, if she would let me.

* * *

I felt like I was moving outside the margins. I always kept everything in the lines, neat and ordered. Until I moved here. It felt as though my whole life would be completely different in a blink. One blink. Everyday things were changing. I was not who I was back at home in North Jersey. And I did not want to go back, anyway. I was more myself somehow. I did not have to live up to the same expectations, the same rules and regulations. Mom, of course, had the same plans for me, but the people around her did not have the same identical roles, careers and lifestyles. They hadn’t mapped out their children’s lives. It was an ice cold, refreshing shock. I was growing. Inside my head, my heart. I was more concerned with the paintings on the wall, not the Coach bags of my peers.

Where did I stand? I was Arnold Rissler’s daughter, of course. James’ sister, my mom’s little girl. But things were not clicking the way they used to and I found myself wondering about new sorts of challenges and ideas. It didn’t seem possible but I wondered, one night as I went to bed, could one person find me? Change me? Free me? It was going okay with Mackenzie, but she kept her distance whenever Jamie, Val, or another classmate was around. She chatted often with a smart boy named Mark. Maybe there were going out, I mused. They seemed to have a special chemistry between one another. I asked her about him once, as we walked to my house after school.

“Mark? And me?” She asked incredulously. It was as though I had come up with a ridiculous accusation. Then, she started giggling. “Not exactly each other’s types, Car. He’s nice, don’t get me wrong..”

I stared at Em and half-believed her. They had something. Surely it would blossom into some sort of romance before the year was over.

You like him though? As a friend?”

“Oh, of course. He’s a bit pretentious. And super talented. He knows it. But he does have a sweetness about him. He really would do anything for his close friends.”

Mark, to me, seemed like a good guy. Dorky as all get out. Liked to sing, even though his voice was going through those puberty changes guys have to endure. I was in after school choice with him and so many guys were cracking. He always knew all the answers in English and history, the two classes he had together. Em, of course, knew them too. I always felt stupid around her. During school hours, at the very least.

I still had not broached the rumors about last year with her. I usually was no the most confrontal person.

“Sure he seems pretty cool. In an awkward.com sort of way,” I replied.

“Aww. He is just finding out who he is.”

“Aren’t we all,” I said.

“You are not really much a searching soul, though, are you?” Em asked.

She always put things in such a unique way. But at that moment, her way with words offended me.

“What do you mean?” I said, defensively. Didn’t she realized my whole life seemed flipped out recently?

“I don’t know. You seem pretty sure of where you are. Where you want to be, anyway.



“No, Em. That’s really not the case.”

“I guess the pop psychologist in me isn’t very accurate?” she asked with a playful grin.

“Absolutely not, Em. Guess ya don’t know me very well,” I replied, smiling.

“Guess not, Car. You just seem more sure of your life than I am…” she reflected, drifting.

“Em?”

“What?”

“Ah, nothing. You just…are you sad? Isn’t high school supposed to be the time of our lives or something. Even if we are on the bottom of the totem pole.”

“Ha. I guess you’re right. I just don’t really fit in. You have to have noticed,” she said, as we reached my front porch. We were going to hang out in my room, watching TV and maybe studying for an English quiz of “grammar gaffes”-the English boo-boos we make when we are writing or speaking.

“Yeah I guess. I don’t get it though…”

“No, Carly, I guess you wouldn’t. It’s kind of a long story that I’m still dealing with..”

“I’m not going to press you for details. But if you ever feel like it, I’m a pretty good listener. Or so I hear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Car. I’m just not quite ready to unload, ya know?”

“Sure. But I’m here.”

“I know, Car. And I appreciate that more than you can imagine.”

The strange part of my friend Em was that I knew so little about her. Her family, where exactly she lived, her goals, her crushes. Heck, I didn’t even know her favorite foods! Why did she know so much about me then? I was going to figure one mystery this afternoon, I thought.

“Em..I know you just met me a month ago. But…do you trust me?”

“Sure, I do. Carly, if I didn’t I wouldn’t really talk to you, honestly…”

“Then how come I don’t know much about you or your life? Seriously…your just a big mystery, sometimes.”

“Force of bad habits. That’s why I don’t talk too much about personal stuff. And there are some parts of my life I just can’t talk about too much. I guess I could be a little more open.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just wondered.”

“Well, I want to talk to you. About everything. It is just tough for me. Maybe if you asked me questions. Starting with simple stuff,” she said, sinking into my plush recliner. That was her usual spot. I always sat on my bed.

“I could do that… Like, could you tell me about your family?”

“My family. Well, you know I live with my mom. She’s getting remarried. I have a younger sister. She’s twelve and is the prissiest, most spoiled little thing. Rachel is her name.”

“And…your dad?”

“Umm… Well…he passed away in a car accident when I was seven.”

“Oh my god, Em! I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed. I had no idea, whatsoever.

“It’s okay. Obviously Rachel barely remembers him. But I do. We used to always go to the park and swing and go on the slide for hours. He loved to play around.”

“Aww, Em. It has to be so difficult. For you, your mom.”

“I guess. And my mom and I aren’t the closest.”

“Oh?”

“We just see things a little differently. Far from eye to eye.”

“Like?” I asked, prodding.

“”Raising Rachel, politics, social issues, music, art, pretty much anything.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“I guess I can relate. In one respect. My mom and me are kind of opposites in a lot of ways. Or maybe I’m just finally breaking away from her plans.”

Mackenzie’s eye brow rose, looking surprised.

“And this astonishes you?” I laughed.

“Well, it’s just that you guys always seem fine together when I see you two.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you looks can be deceiving, Em?”

“Actually that’s a motto I live by,” Em replied with a crooked smile.

“Well consider that Rissler family dogma, then.”

“So I shouldn’t be trusting you, then?” Em replied.

“Oh no! I mean, I try to follow what you see is what you get. You’re the one who says you live by the motto!”

Em just smiled. I couldn’t even begin to figure out what she was thinking.

“But back to you…” I began again.

Em half-groaned, but I could tell she was easing up and that the tension wasn’t so bad anymore for her.

“Ok?”

“Where do you live?”

“A small summer cottage on the other side of town. No AC. Two bedrooms.”

“You share with Rachel?”

“Yup, me and Miss Priss have bunk beds. In a very small room.”

This new information didn’t shock me but it made me realize again how I was changing. I never would have been friends with someone from “the other side of town” back home. Hell, there wasn’t even another side of town where I came from.

“So I guess you prefer my spacious room for studying?”

“Haha, I guess that is an added bonus. Mainly, I like spending time with you,” she said openly. “Being friends with you,” she added.

She was being so honest and sweet, she really made me forget about the rumors and the other girls. I just wanted to spend time getting to know her.

“Thanks, Em! You are like no one else I know, but in a good way. I’m so glad we are friends!” I got up, then, and embraced her warmly.

She stiffened immediately in my grasp so I released my grip..

“I’m sorry…” I mumbled. I was confused. To say the least.

“No, Car. I’m sorry. It’s just umm…well, nothing,” she trailed. “I guess we aren’t the most touchy feeling family in the world,” she said, recovering. “I guess I’m not used to it. I wish I was.”

“Well I won’t do it again,” I said, trying to sound understanding, hoping my hurt wasn’t vocalized in my tone.

“Don’t…Don’t say that,” she said cryptically. She stared deeply into my eyes for a few moments and then glanced at the sunset photo she loved so much.

It was in that moment that things really began to unravel. I saw a few tears running down Em’s porcelain, pale face. I froze for a second and then knelt beside her, by the recliner. I touched her arm gently and I saw her shut her auburn eyes as I did, trying to hide. I began stroking her arm, as my mom always had done when I was scared or upset.

“The walls are crumbling down,” She whispered, as I now sat on the arm of the chair beside her, her head slumped, now drifting toward my lap. I began plaing with her glossy, dark locks between my fingers. She let me. I wanted to hold her in an embrace again, but that was why she was a mess right now anyway. Still, I wanted to and had to resist the urge. Her body was trembling. I could feel it in my lap and hands as I tried to calm her.

“I just…I just can’t…” she said, trying to tell me something.

“Shhh…everything will be okay, I responded encouragingly, trying to sooth her.

Unexpectedly she lifted her head from my lap and pulled me gently onto the spacious recliner with her. I immediately wrapped my arms around her and continued stroking her hair. She quietly let me comfort her, saying nothing, shutting her eyes again. I extended the recliner, lying with her there as she drifted in and out of sleep. My legs became entangled in hers and something felt normal, comfortable. Her deep breathing felt good against my chest and I fell asleep insider her arms.

By the time I awoke, Mackenize was gone. There was, however, a note on the lamp table next to the chair.

* * *

Dear Car,

So tonight…was an emotional rollercoaster for me. I won’t apologize for opening up to you or falling apart like I did. I needed to and you needed to be there. If it was too much for you, I am very sorry. I know it was a lot to take in. For me, anyway. Thank you for everything…seriously, everything. We’ll talk more, I hope, but I have to leave before my mom freaks. I want to stay but I don’t want to wake you when I do leave. See you tomorrow morning?

, Em

* * *

That night, the events of Em confiding and then breaking down kept running and bubbling over and over in my thoughts. Images of holding and consoling her, seeing her tearing, feeling her deep breathes of sleep against my body; these thoughts and more overwhelmed my memory. She had been so vulnerable and just needed someone to fall into and trust. Why did I feel so emotionally charged? She was gone now, afterall.

I felt like scrambled eggs, soft, sloppy, hot, raw parts of me still cooking. Why did she lay it all out there? Maybe it was too much for me to handle, I thought. Was it too much for a 15 year old? I knew, though, I wanted her to tell me more, cry more, whatever she needed.

I went downstairs later to grab a snack. My mom was reading a sappy chick-lit novel at the table. She seemed to be ready for me to distract her. I was not in the mood to talk.

“Honey? You’re white as a ghost! Are you feeling ok? Get the thermometer out from the first aid drawer, dear.”

“No, I’m fine. Just tired. A lot tired.”

“Hon, it is only 8:30. Come, sit down with me.”

Ugh. The last thing I wanted tonight was for my mom to prod and poke through random details of my personal and academic life. But I knew this is where she was heading and I knew I couldn’t stop her.

“So how are things at school, Carly?”

“Fine. An English quiz tomorrow.”

Oh, you’ll ace it, dear. How’s that friend of yours, Emily? She left early tonight.”

“Mackenzie. Em’s not short for Emily.” Leave it to mom to still not know the name of my best friend after a month living in this town, seeing her at least ten times. Grr.

“Oh that’s right,” she said lightly, “Always coming over on that bike of hers.”

“Well not today. We just walked. But I was meaning to ask you. Could I get one?” I asked, genuinely serious.

“A bike?” my mom laughed, surprised. “What in God’s name do you need one for? Daddy, James and I all can drive you anywhere you need to go.” To her, getting a bike to get around was simply a preposterous idea. Bikes, for her, were for stationary exercising.

“Nevermind, Mom. You’re right.” I did not want to fight with her after this draining evening.

“Of course I am, baby. The fact that she needs that to get around troubles me.”

“Maybe she just likes to ride.”

“Maybe..” My mom’s tone indicated she thought there was more to it. In her defense, of course, there was. I gather that Em’s mom did not (maybe never had) drive. Em, as always, had to fend for herself.

I thought about her thin, tall frame, wracked with trembling sobs. I wondered, suddenly, when exactly she left and cursed myself for not waking up when she was.

“She seems, babe, just a little attached to you. She’s never here when your other friends are. She always just one-on-one with you. Why’s that?”

“Mom, she just isn’t friends with them. I like them, she doesn’t have to…”

“Well of course not, Carly. But maybe those other friends know something you don’t.”

“Are you being perceptive, Mom, or do you have some dirt on her that you want to divulge ever so discretely?” I asked sarcastically. My weariness was making me snappy and I could care less. My mom loved to play games and was notorious for being a town gossip in my old home.

“Miss Carly Rissler! I will not have that attitude!” my mom screeched in her shrill tone. Then she stopped a moment, thinking. “Sometimes I just get a feeling. Something’s a little off with your friend, dear,” she said in a matter of fact way.

“Well, Mom, feel what you want to about her but she is my best friend here. I like this stupid place because of her. I don’t miss North Jersey anymore.”

“Carly, be careful. You never know what sort of history this girl has.”

“Mom, maybe I know more that you think. Maybe she is not from as privileged of a background but she is a good, smart person who is going to make something of her life.”

“Those are pretty thoughts, dear, but sometimes plans do not become reality.”

“May I be excused from the table, Mom? I have to study for my grammar quiz,” I said through clenched teeth. I simply could not take her advice one minute longer.

“Think about what I said, Carly. Good luck on your quiz,” my mom replied curtly, dismissing me.

All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. As much as I hated the way my mom said it, I too had questions of my own about Em’s past. How was it that no one would speak up and tell me the rumors? I doubted they were protecting her, that’s for sure. I knew, in the long run, I would have to hear whatever happened from Em herself. I would not take other people’s words without her verifying it. Whenever that would be, I thought, frustrated at the situation.