siobhan vivian - not that kind of girl (6 page)

I tried to run, but I slipped on the grass and fell hard, right on my back. The whole crowd said Ohhh. I tried to get up, but it was totally impossible. The ground was too slick and the costume stuck to me like a straitjacket. I felt a pair of hands hoist me up to my feet. "Careful there, Devito." I turned and there was Connor. And I swear he looked through the mesh window and saw it was me. "You okay?" he asked quietly. I wanted to say yes. And thank you. But I was also completely mortified by what I'd just overheard. I ripped my arm free and hobbled toward Autumn, off in the rainy distance. Her hair was saturated, stringy, and sticking to her face. I watched her shimmy halfway up the woodpile, trying to get a blue tarp stretched over the top. She was fighting a losing battle to keep the wood dry, an army of one. No one else helped her. I ran up and extended my hand. "Come down. It's not safe." "I've almost got it. Run over on the other side and I'll--" "Autumn, forget it. There's no way we're still having the bonfire." Even though I knew this was the truth, it still hurt to admit it. Autumn tipped her head back and rain splashed off her cheeks. "Are you sure? I think it might be slowing down." Another crack of thunder shook the air. I grabbed Autumn's hand, helped her down, and together we took off running for my car.

The whole ride home, I had the chills. Not because I was soaking wet. Because the bonfire was ruined, because Spencer was an idiot, because I was so upset and disgusted by what I'd heard, because Connor may have caught me eavesdropping. I told Autumn about the terrible things I'd overheard, only leaving out what Connor had said about me, since that wasn't the point. I knew the way the guys talked about the girls would make her upset, but I still wanted her to know. If anything, it would keep something like last weekend's party incident from happening again. These were not the kinds of people we should be associating with. Autumn knew exactly what those girls were in for. It put a heavy silence over the car. But how could I get it through Spencer's thick skull that she was making some really bad choices? And the rest of the freshman girls, too? I wished there was a way I could help them like I'd helped Autumn. "It's too bad we can't take every girl in school to the young women's conference Ms. Bee told me about. But it's all the way in Boston, and it's not until spring break." Autumn turned her head. "What if you held your own women's summit? Like, at school?" It made immediate, total sense to me. "Autumn--you are a genius! I could basically replicate the entire thing. Lectures, discussions. We could run it together." Autumn bit her nails. "I'll help you in any way I can, Natalie. But I really don't want--" That's when I told Autumn about that first day of school. About my ideas for changing freshman orientation. Autumn would be our guest speaker. She'd have a chance to stand out again, this time for something good. For something positive. Autumn looked down at her chewed-up fingernails. And then she said, "Can I ask you something? Without you getting mad?" "Okay." "Did those guys say anything about me?" I shook my head. "No." It was the truth, and I thought that would make Autumn feel good. Except it didn't. She rested her head against the window with a deep sigh, and dragged her finger through the condensation in one long, sad streak. There was something severely wrong with the girls I knew. CHAPTER TWELVE It rained the whole weekend, and by Monday morning, everything felt damp and bloated. The ground shimmered with slick fallen leaves, and thick mist hung in the air like the curtains on my bedroom windows. I pulled my hair back and walked across the lawn, grass squishing underneath my loafers, wetness seeping through the cracks in the leather, soaking the toes of my knee socks. But it didn't even bother me. I couldn't wait to get to school. I was on a mission. After the homeroom bell, I headed straight to the main office and sat on the bench outside Principal Hurley's office. Most of the Rosstitutes were already there, waiting to hear their fate. The secretary called them in one by one. None of the girls made eye contact with me, except for Susan Choi, who managed a meek smile, which I did not return. She hid for the rest of the time behind a hefty paperback of The Lord of the Rings. Susan seemed like a nice girl. Quiet, studious, and obsessed with J. R. R. Tolkien. I noticed she always had her paperback open in her lap during student council meetings. Not the kind of girl you'd expect to be a Rosstitute. Spencer clearly had a strong, magnetic quality about her. I had felt it even when she had approached me in the bathroom. Intervening felt like a necessity. Who knew what this freshman Pied Piper could do if she really hit her stride? Spencer arrived last, seconds before the first period bell. I heard her voice before I saw her, laughing and squealing from somewhere down the hall. Then she appeared, running as if danger were in hot pursuit. But she moved like she didn't really want to escape. As soon as she saw me, the smile dropped off her face. "We need to talk," I said. "Don't you have to get to class?" I hoped I could get a pass from the secretary. But even if I couldn't, if I got in trouble for sticking my nose in where it didn't actually belong, it still felt worth it. "For you, Spencer, I've got time." Spencer shrugged and sat on the bench next to me. "I know you're probably mad, but I didn't do anything wrong." The defiance in her voice took me by surprise. I expected remorse, or at least some fear about her impending punishment. "You were in your bra!" I couldn't help but say. "In the middle of the hallway!" "I was not. That was my bathing suit, not my bra. The bathing suit I wear during first period swim class." Her excuse took a little wind from my sail, but I stood strong. "Those shirts were really gross, Spencer. A prostitute? For the football team? Come on." "They were a joke!" She waited for me to be convinced. "Okay. Look. The hallway probably wasn't the best place to change out of my shirt... and for that, I guess I'm sorry. But I still think people are making a big deal over nothing." My stomach tightened. If Spencer tried to explain herself like that to Principal Hurley and Ms. Bee, she might just get expelled. "You should work on a better apology ASAP. One that actually sounds sorry. Do you know how much trouble you're in?" My eyes bounced all over her face. "Big trouble," I hissed. "Humungous trouble!" The office door opened, and Susan Choi exited. Her glasses were up on the top of her head, and she dabbed at her red eyes with a wrinkled- up wad of tissue. I imagined Susan had never so much as gotten a B before, never mind a week's worth of detention. I gave Spencer the eye, like See? This is serious. But Spencer had her compact open and was patting powder on her T-zone. The secretary peered around the doorway and called for her. "You don't have to worry about me," Spencer said sweetly, rising to her feet. "I can take care of myself. I swear." She did not expect me to stand up and follow her, but that's exactly what I did. "Natalie," she whispered over her shoulder, "what are you doing?" "I'm saving your ass," I said, and pushed past her. I had only seen the inside of Principal Hurley's office once before, when I was called in, with the rest of the academic decathlon team, to take a photo for the newspaper with our trophy. Being there, even under positive pretenses, still gave me an uneasy feeling. The air in his office felt like August, thick and uncomfortably warm. The cinderblock wall had been painted a creamy beige, probably in the hopes of making what constituted a prison cell feel slightly more homey. He had no plants, no pictures, no decorations other than a huge vintage Ross Academy banner, made of moth-eaten wool and with hand-stitched, yellowing letters. Ms. Bee stood in the corner, leaning against a set of tall filing cabinets. She looked surprised to see me. "This is a private meeting," Principal Hurley said. "Yes, Natalie," Ms. Bee added. "Stop by my office later. We'll talk then." I ignored them both and sat in one of the overstuffed leather chairs facing Principal Hurley's desk--a gutsy move, for sure, but I needed to appear confident. "Principal Hurley. I have something to say." He laced his fingers and nodded for me to go ahead, probably against his better instincts. "What happened on Friday was terrible. The behavior of these freshmen showed extremely poor judgment. But instead of punishing and isolating the girls involved, I think you're missing the chance to make this into a real learning experience, something every girl in our school could benefit from." Principal Hurley looked over at Ms. Bee, not exactly sure what to make of this. She had the tiniest smile on her face. "Go ahead, Natalie," she said. "The female population of Ross Academy is clearly focused on the wrong things. They value boys' attention over their own accomplishments. They're content with being objectified. The T-shirt incident was exactly that--a desperate attempt to be noticed, to proclaim subservience. It's as if our girls don't understand that they can be recognized for other things--their goals, their brains. Not just their bodies." I feared that I sounded too rehearsed, because I had rehearsed. At least ten times, to my bedroom mirror. But I needed Principal Hurley to take me seriously. I wanted him to know I had thought this through. I pulled the pamphlet Ms. Bee had given me out of my book bag. "I'd like to lead a seminar that would be mandatory for the girls involved in Friday's incident, but also open it up to any other girls at school who might like to participate." Principal Hurley's face curdled. "An assembly? That hardly seems like a fitting punishment." I had to think fast. "I was actually thinking more of an overnight shut-in. We'd do workshops and discussions and get people to sponsor each of the hours we stay awake, which we'd donate to a women's shelter or something. It'd be a Girl Summit, an empowerment symposium." "A what?" Spencer asked. I shot her a look. "I think that, for most of us, this would present an opportunity to discuss the recent events and maybe learn better behaviors and strategies moving forward. Instead of sweeping Friday's incident under the rug, we'd open up a dialogue about it. I want our girls to know that they are more than a sexual commodity, that they should have larger goals and aspirations for themselves." Principal Hurley dropped his head to the side. "And you are willing to take this all on your shoulders? Why?" I had not anticipated this question, and suddenly, I had a hard time organizing my thoughts. I thought of Autumn and all she had gone through. I looked over at Spencer, who was clueless. I cared so much about these girls. And if I could help save them, or anyone else at school, from making a huge mistake, I gladly would. "Because this is important to me, Principal Hurley. And I won't be doing it alone. I'd like to run it with Spencer. For better or worse, Spencer showed real leadership on Friday, and I'd like to give her the opportunity to use that for good. And the extra responsibility, in addition to perhaps a week's detention, would make a fitting punishment, since she was the ringleader of the whole Rosstitute incident." Spencer gazed over at me. Despite everything, she actually looked flattered by my compliments. I saw Principal Hurley working it over in his head as he stared at me. I stared right back. I knew that if I wanted to do this, I'd have to show some strength. Ms. Bee looked like she might explode with pride. "I think this is a wonderful idea, Principal Hurley. Senior year is extremely busy, and yet Natalie's offering to carve out time to help guide the girls of Ross Academy to a more beneficial path." "Fine," Principal Hurley said with a sigh. "This is a little unconventional for my tastes, but so long as Ms. Bee agrees, we'll try your seminar."

Outside the office, Spencer cornered me immediately. "For the record, I still don't think I did anything that bad." "For the record, you were about to be suspended." She put her hands on her hips. "I'm not as stupid as you think I am. I know what I'm doing." I suddenly remembered a few hissy fits Spencer had thrown, in my babysitting days. I'd found that the best way to deal with her tantrums was to turn my back and walk away. So that's exactly what I did. I marched down the hall, and I didn't turn around when she started whining my name. Spencer was worse than a bratty little sister. But that didn't mean I couldn't get her to listen. First period had already started, so I hustled down the hall to the AP Chemistry lab. When I rounded the corner, I saw Connor Hughes leaning into the water fountain. Part of me wanted to backtrack and take another staircase, so I wouldn't have to pass him. A nervous energy buzzed through my chest. I still wasn't sure if Connor realized I'd been inside the Ross the Eagle suit, if he knew I'd heard the things they'd said. But purposefully dodging him would give Connor far too much power over me. So I kept walking, one foot in front of the other. He looked up from the stream of water. I saw this out of the corner of my eye, my senses heightening the way they do when someone's watching you. I became instantly conscious of my gait (borderline scampering), my body temperature (overheated, from Principal Hurley's office), and my breath (cottony and stale). Once I had passed, he said, "Hey, Sterling--aren't you going to thank me?" I couldn't completely ignore him, because that would appear too calculated. So I stopped. The classrooms around us all had their doors closed. We were alone. "For what?" I sounded defensive. Accusatory. More so than I had planned. But even though he'd said some nice things about me at the football game, he had far from earned a free pass. "I got up early and loaded all that wood back into my truck so you wouldn't have to deal with it." He held up his hands. They were rough and slightly dirty. "The logs were really wet and slippery. I got a couple splinters, too. Deep ones. They might just cost me the next football game." So Connor went out of his way to do me favors all of a sudden? I could hardly believe it. I felt myself starting to blush, so I pulled the elastic out of my hair and let it fall like a cloak. "You moved all that wood by yourself?" I asked. "Nah. I forced some of the JV kids to help me." "Well, I didn't ask you to do that." "I know you didn't," he said, a split between annoyed and amused. "I felt bad that your little thing got rained out."

My little thing? "I didn't need your help," I barked. "I would have handled it." He pulled both hands through his hair. It still looked wet from his morning shower. "Geez. I was only looking for a thank you." "Well, you know what, Connor? Here's an important lesson. You can't always get what you want. Even boys like you." I left him standing there, as baffled as he probably was in his remedial math class, and grinned at the empty hallway stretching in front of me. I was sure Connor had never been treated that way by a girl before. As with most things in life, it felt extremely good to be the first. CHAPTER THIRTEEN At the end of the week, Ms. Bee called me into her office to discuss my progress on the girls' night. I wondered if Spencer should be part of the conversation, too, but ultimately I decided against it. There was something important, something personal, I needed to ask Ms. Bee. We'd just finished a student council meeting. There were a lot of big projects on the horizon, like the fall flower sale and the Halloween dance, for which I would need a costume. I hadn't worn one since I was twelve and dressed as double helix. Ms. Bee hung up her red cashmere sweater on her coat rack. I sat down in the chair across from her desk and looked around. A picture album sat on her desk, the kind that had a photo in the front--in this case Ms. Bee sitting on a sandy-colored rock wall, overlooking the most beautiful ocean I'd ever seen. "Barcelona," she told me. Her summer vacation. I was surprised when she opened the book and let me flip through, as she narrated her trip. Suddenly, Ms. Bee became less like a teacher, and more like the kind of cool aunt who could talk your mother into letting you order a glass of red wine at a fancy restaurant. She pushed her hair back and fingered a pair of dangly, hammered gold earrings. She told me she'd haggled a man from ten euros down to three at an outdoor bazaar. And when rain moved in, evidenced by a sky that grew dark then black in the photos, she fled to Milan on a whim. "When you travel alone," she explained with a wink, "you are free to be unpredictable." I bounced up and down in my chair and told Ms. Bee that's exactly how I planned to backpack through Europe next summer, before college started. Ms. Bee nodded, and her approval felt as good as a hug. We talked countries, possible stops along the way. I took out my notebook and took diligent notes. It was also the perfect segue. "Ms. Bee, I was wondering if you'd consider writing me a recommendation letter for my college applications. I know it's only October, but I wanted to get a jump on things." She smiled. "Of course, Natalie. In fact, this helps me a great deal. I can't tell you how inundated I get with these kinds of requests come March. Some students give me only a week's notice. If everyone could be as responsible and considerate as you, my job would be a lot easier. Not to mention that it's been a complete pleasure having you in my classes and working with you in student council. So yes, I would be honored to write you the most glowing recommendation in the history of recommendations." "Ms. Bee. I can't thank you enough for all the help and attention you've given me this year. Really." She leaned back in her chair, and her eyes drifted off my face to just over my shoulder. A big, expectant smile bloomed on her face shortly thereafter. "So, tell me. How are things coming with your girls' night?" Truth was, it was slow. I'd had a ton of homework that week, not to mention cramming in as much SAT prep as I could. But I tried to dress it up. I had figured out which charity the donations would go to, and made a list of the food and snacks I'd have to buy.