The Poison Apples (9 page)

“Er,” I said, “Yeah. I guess.”

Agnes laughed in her horrible condescending way, and shut the door.

There was a long pause. I glanced in Alice's direction. She was bent over, her chin cupped in her hand, and her hair fell across her face.

“I guess I'll turn the lights out,” I said.

She nodded.

I stood up, flicked off the light switch, and the room was plunged into total darkness.

“Good night,” I said.

“Good night,” Alice whispered, and I groped my way toward my bed, holding my hands out in front of me and trying to see its outline in the darkness. I felt the edge of my mattress with my knee, and touched my pillow with my finger. Then I let my body collapse onto my new, hard, cold, and unfamiliar bed.

I listened to the sound of my breath. I listened to the sound of Alice's breath. Someone had left a single glow-in-the-dark star sticker on the ceiling. I stared at it for a long time.

Then my cell phone rang.

Alice bolted upright.

“Sorry, sorry!” I yelped, and reached down to the floor to fish it out of my purse. Pradeep's name appeared on the screen. I took the phone and burrowed under my covers.

“Hello?” I whispered.

I heard Alice exhale in disgust.

“REEN!” Pradeep yelled into my ear. I could hear music playing and people talking in the background.

“Quieter, please,” I murmured.

“REEN!”

“What?”

“IT'S AWESOME HERE!”

I didn't know what to say. Was he kidding?

“Aren't you in bed?” I asked.

“Aw, no way! Our RA is awesome! He's letting us stay up and party!”

“Oh.”

“Are you okay?” Pradeep asked.

I sighed. “Um. I guess.”

“Do you like your roommate? Mine is awesome. He's from
Nova Scotia
. Isn't that crazy? He, like, goes moose hunting for fun!”

In the background I could hear hooting and laughter.

“I don't know,” I whispered.

“Wait. What? You don't know what?”

I sighed, exasperated.

“What are you talking about?” he asked again.

“Pradeep.”

“What?”

“I have to go.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool, cool.”

“I'll see you tomorrow.”

We hung up. I stared at the ceiling. I had never felt more alone in my life.

And it was all Shanti Shruti's fault.

SIX

Molly

Radicchio.

I couldn't believe it. My first day at boarding school and there was already a
word
I didn't
know.

An unprecedented event.

Right after dinner I ran upstairs to my dorm room and looked up
radicchio
in the OED.

“A variety of chicory,” I whispered out loud.

The door opened and then slammed shut. I looked up from my bed. My new roommate was standing in front of me, hands on her hips. Her violet eyes blazed with anger.

“Is this what it's going to be like?” she demanded.

“Hi, Kristen,” I said.

She pursed her lips and stared at me for a long time.

“Is this what
what's
going to be like?” I finally asked.

“Living together. Are you always going to be in here, like, reading?”

“Um, no. But I do like to read.”

She sighed and flounced down onto her bed. My heart did a terrified little leap. My roommate—Miss Kristen Diamond of Westport, Connecticut—uncannily reminded me of the popular girls at North Forest High. Except with more money. And more rage.

I had sort of thought everyone at Putnam Mount McKinsey was going to be thoughtful and nerdy and quiet and friendly. Like me.

Kristen kicked off her flip-flops and lay on her back. I tried to focus on the OED and listen to the whirring of the window fan.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” she finally asked.

I chortled, not taking my eyes off the dictionary.

“What's so funny?”

“I've never had a boyfriend.”

“Never?”

“Nope.”

“Have you ever been on a date?”

“No.”

“God. That is tragic.”

I stared at the OED entry.
Radicchio. From the Italian.

“I've had, like, ten different boyfriends,” Kristen announced.

“Good for you.”

“Are you being sarcastic or something?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

Normally having reddish purple, white-veined leaves. Not used in the English language until 1978.
So I'd never had a boyfriend. Big deal. Not that I didn't want one. It was just that … no guy had ever really expressed an interest in me. And I'd never met a guy I thought was that great.

Except for that one guy in the pink shirt, the one I'd seen years before in my father's diner. The Putnam Mount McKinsey student with the book of Emily Dickinson poems sticking out of his pocket. He was perfect.

That guy had probably already graduated.

Kristen snapped me out of my reverie. “… sex,” she was saying. “I've only had sex four times. But I plan to get a lot more practice here.”

I nodded numbly.

“I've already seen a bunch of really cute guys.”

There was no way I was going to be able to focus on my reading. I put down the OED and lay on my back while Kristen chattered away about her ex-boyfriends. My heart thumping quietly, I stared at the ceiling and thought about my new life. Everything had changed so quickly. Putnam Mount McKinsey was nothing like what I thought it would be, and my memories from that very morning—Spencer standing in the driveway in those terrible high heels—seemed incredibly far away. I didn't miss North Forest yet, not at all, and yet I couldn't really comprehend the fact that I didn't live there anymore. It was kind of hard to believe that I could climb in a car and just
drive away
from the place I'd hated my whole life.

But could I?

Because I was still thinking about it. I was thinking about my mom at Silverwood, sitting by the window in her rocking chair, staring out at the sinking sun. I was thinking about Candy kissing my father good night and making another snide comment about my skirt. I was thinking about Sandie and Randie squatting together under a tree and digging for earthworms.

I was just … living somewhere else now.

Kristen kept chattering away, and I kept nodding and saying, “Mmhm,” even though I'd stopped listening.

Where were the people who were going to become part of My New and Better Life?

I wanted to meet them. As soon as possible.

*   *   *

Early the next morning,
I stood outside the student union with my fellow transfer classmates and listened to a psychotically cheerful junior scream into a megaphone.

“STUDENT LIFE AT PUTNAM MOUNT MCKINSEY IS ALL ABOUT TRUST!” she yelled.

A couple of people snickered. Kristen, who had made a point of standing as far away from me as possible, nudged a beautiful Indian girl who was standing next to her and winked at her.

Even though Kristen was my new Least Favorite Person Ever, I felt a twinge of jealousy. I wanted someone to wink at me.

“YOU HAVE TO TRULY TRUST YOUR FELLOW CLASSMATES TO CREATE A PRODUCTIVE AND HARMONIOUS ENVIRONMENT,” the girl bellowed. “SO WE'RE GOING TO DO A FEW EXERCISES TO GET EVERYONE FEELING COMFORTABLE AND OPEN!”

At least fifteen kids groaned.

“COUNT OFF IN TENS!”

A halfhearted muttering passed through the crowd. I barely heard the girl next to me whisper, “Five.”

“Six!” I said loudly.

Someone nearby burst out laughing.

“OKAY,” the junior announced. “ONES, OVER THERE. TWOS, OVER THERE. THREES, OVER THERE…”

When she got to the sixes, she pointed vaguely at a patch of shady grass off in the distance, and I trudged toward it. Kristen was already standing there, tapping her foot impatiently. She looked at me in horror.

“Oh, God,” she said. “You're kidding me.”

“Nope,” I said.

“Is it just the two of us?” she asked. “Because if it is—”

I never found out what she was going to say. A smiling boy had suddenly stepped into our little patch of shade. Kristen and I fell silent.

“Hey,” he said, his hand outstretched, “I'm Pradeep.”

Kristen and I both stared at him, speechless. Then, for some miraculous reason, I recovered my composure.

“I'm Molly,” I said, and shook his hand. He grinned at me.

“What up, Molly?” he said.

He had thick black hair and skin the color of maple syrup. He had a gap between his two front teeth. He had hazel eyes. He had a crooked grin. He had ears that were just a little too big for his head. He had a gorgeous lips. He had the tiniest bit of chest hair poking out from underneath the neck of his V-neck T-shirt. He had bony wrists. He had a pronounced Adam's Apple that throbbed slightly when he smiled. He had—

“I'm Kristen,” said Kristen. She stepped forward, her red hair falling across half of her face, and delicately offered him her hand.

The boy blinked. I watched his hazel eyes take in Kristen's perfect skin, her perfect hair, her perfect dress, her perfect body.
No!
I tried to telepathically communicate to him,
don't!

“It's weird that you shake people's hands,” Kristen said to him, raising one eyebrow.

He tilted his head to one side and stared at her, mock serious. “You got a problem with that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, her lips thrumming with a half-concealed smile. “I do.”

They grinned at each other.

Great. Just great.

“OKAY, EVERYONE!” screamed the megaphone girl. “I WANT TWO PEOPLE IN EVERY GROUP TO PAIR OFF!”

“Well, I'm definitely not pairing off with you,” Pradeep said to Kristen.

“You neither,” she giggled, and they moved toward each other as if by magnetic force.

“Oookay,” I said. “I guess you guys are the pair.”

They ignored me.

“NOW!” the girl said. “THIRD PERSON, FACE AWAY FROM THE PAIR!”

I sighed and faced away from Kristen and Pradeep. I could see a Japanese-style pond in the distance, with tall reeds and stone benches. I pictured sitting on one of the benches with Pradeep and whispering word origins in his ear.
You're so smart,
he'd murmur, and then our fingers would touch.

“FALL BACK!” the girl yelled into the megaphone, interrupting my fantasy.

My heart froze. I turned around to face Kristen and Pradeep.

“What'd she say?” I asked.

Kristen stared at me, already annoyed. “She said fall back. Fall back and we'll catch you.”

“Um,” I said. “I don't want to.”

“It's okay,” said Pradeep. “You can trust us.”

I looked at him for a long time. He smiled reassuringly at me, and I watched his amazing Adam's apple bob up and down. What would it be like to touch his neck?

“For God's sakes, Molly,” Kristen said. “Fall.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, and turned back to face the Japanese garden. I paused. I didn't want to fall. Why was this a necessary part of boarding school orientation? What did this have to do with math and English class?

“FALL!” I heard through the megaphone. “FALL!”

I closed my eyes. The sun shone through my closed lids and made everything a pulsing orange color. I smelled the new-cut grass and the sunscreen on people's skin. Okay. I had to do it. I had to take risks. This was my new life. Everything was different now.

I took a deep breath. I rocked back on my ankles. Once. Twice. A third time. And then, my body rigid, my hands pressed against my side, I fell.

For a while everything went black.

*   *   *

I woke to find
a bright buzzing light shining into my eyes. I squinted. My head hurt.

“She's awake!” someone whispered, and then a head floated into my line of vision.

It was Pradeep. I smiled groggily at him and assumed I was dreaming.

“Uh, hey,” he said. “Molly? That's your name, right?”

“Mmhm,” I murmured, and his beautiful eyes swam in and out of focus.

“I'm really sorry, dude,” he whispered.

Unable to help myself, I kept grinning at him.

“Can you understand me?” he asked.

I bobbled my head around, trying to nod.

“It was really lame, what happened,” he said. “We just … we were talking, and we forgot, and it was a total accident, but it was…”

I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but I didn't like the words he was using. Lame. Accident.
We.

“Where am I?” I whispered.

“Oh, dude,” he said. “You must be really out of it. You're at the nurse's office.”

A stern-looking woman's face appeared above me. “You have to leave now,” the face told Pradeep.

He nodded, and his head floated away.

My forehead suddenly throbbed with pain. I winced. I heard the door click as Pradeep left the room. The woman stared down at me.

“You, my dear,” she said, “have a concussion.”

“Nope,” I said. “That's impossible.”

“It is the very opposite of impossible,” she said. “It's fact. Your friends forgot to catch you and your head hit the concrete.”

I felt a stinging sensation in the back of my eyes.

Of course.

This was the kind of thing that could only, only happen to me. This particular brand of pathetic humiliation was Classic Molly Miller.

“They're not my friends,” I whispered.

“What did you say, sweetheart?” she asked.

“They're not my friends!” I said, and then burst into hot, burning tears.

*   *   *

I drifted in and out of sleep.
A day passed. Maybe two. I awoke to a ray of midafternoon sun streaming in through the window and falling across my legs. I could see thousands of dust particles in the air, fluttering in the beam of light like little insects.