This Is Me From Now On (3 page)

When Zane handed it to me, our knuckles sort of banged into each other, and it shocked me just how freezing his hand was. I mean, he was scooping ice cream all day;
of course
his hand would be icy cold. But it made me feel weird, like I wanted to run home and knit him some
gloves. And the crazy thing is, I don't even knit.

So instead I reached into my pocket and gave him every bit of money I had—four dollars and fifty-three cents.

“That's for Francesca too,” I said. Then brilliantly I added, “Uh, sorry, Zane.”

“No problem,” he muttered. I watched him stuff the money in the register without even counting it. Then he did this cool little head-jerk to toss his long, wavy bangs out of his face. “Next?”

“Bye, Evie, see you at school!” Gaby called out

“What school?” I answered. I grabbed a fistful of napkins and walked out into the scorching heat

Francesca was standing right in front of the door, shading her eyes. “What kind did you get? Chocolate chip? I adore that flavor. It's my absolute favorite!”

“You said that before.” Already it was starting to drip down the sides of my cone, so I licked it fast. “Then why didn't you get any?”

“Because . . . well, chocolate chip is always exactly the same.” She did that heart-clutching thing again. “And there were so many other flavors. And they all looked so scrumptious. Evie, don't you ever get
utterly bored
—”

“No.” I wrapped a napkin around the soggy cone. “The thing is, Francesca, I'm pretty sure Zane thought you'd pick a flavor. Eventually. And then pay him for it.”

She looked shocked. “Oh, I would have. But of course I couldn't.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don't have any money.” She pulled out her shorts pockets. They were totally empty. “See?” she said, smiling sweetly.

Okay. Okay. I had
no idea
what I was supposed to say to that. Because what did she think she was doing just now? Ice cream research? And why hadn't she just told me that on the way over? I'd have loaned her some money; I'd pretty much paid for her anyway. I mean, I didn't even know what to
think
about a person who could act the way she just had.

And in front of so many people. Including people I knew. People I'd be going to school with in just a few more days

Gah. It was just too horrible. And embarrassing. And weird. So for the entire walk home I tried really, really hard to tune her out. She was going on and on about some gelato place she went to once in Rome or something, but I
just made myself think about Zane, and whether or not he blamed
me,
and also how much longer I could go without opening my Team Letter. And I concentrated extremely hard on my lopsided ice cream cone, trying to catch the drips before they splattered on the sidewalk

When I walked into the kitchen, Mom was on the phone, sitting in front of a bunch of real estate papers.

“Shirt,” she whispered, pointing to my lemon-yellow tank top. I looked: Right in the middle of my chest was a melted chocolate chip smear, which probably wouldn't even come out in the wash. And this was my best tank too, the only one that made me feel as if I had a right to wear a bra.

“Is that chocolate?” Mom asked in a normal voice, frowning at my chest. “So close to supper?”

“I know, Mom. But I didn't have a choice. Francesca insisted—”

“Go clean up,” she ordered. “Dad's on his way home and we'll be eating at six thirty.” Suddenly her face got all delightful, the way she always looks when she's on the phone with her clients. “Caroline? Great news. I think we finally have an offer!”

I went upstairs to my room, took off my sweaty, smeary tank top, and put on this cute but way-too-enormous San Diego Zoo T-shirt Lily brought me back when she visited her mom a few months ago. Then I opened my desk drawer. Right on top of my Team Letter was the choker I'd bought last week at the mall: a tiny chunk of real amber on a black silk cord.

“You're
buying
that?” Nisha had screeched at me while we were standing at the cash register. “That's how you're blowing your entire Mother's Helper money?”

“It's beautiful,” I'd answered. “Besides, I earned it. You know how many times this summer I had to play Candy Land with Ashley Scavullo?” She was four years old; basically her mom was paying me to come over in the mornings so she could talk on the phone

Nisha grabbed the necklace out of my hand and stared at it. Then she pushed it back at me. “Evie. Listen to me carefully. It has a
bug
in it.”

“That's because it's real amber,” I told her. “It's supposed to be that way.”

She made a face. “Supposed?”

“It's a mosquito fossil. It could be, like, a billion years old.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied. “Cute. And would you wear some gross woolly mammoth tusk around your neck too?”

Now I held up the necklace to my desk lamp. I examined the floating mosquito, which actually
was
kind of gross, I had to admit. But the amber around it reminded me of Zane's eyes in a certain kind of light, so it was worth every single penny. I fastened the silk cord around my neck and snuck into the bathroom to look at myself. The amber glowed; amazingly, so did I. For the first time all day I felt happy and calm and unweird

Then I took off the necklace and opened my Team Letter. Fast.

Okay, so maybe that's not what it actually said. But I knew what it meant: Of the two academic teams for seventh grade, I was placed on the tougher one, the one that got assigned all the work, the one that had Espee for U.S. History. I tried not to freak out too badly, even though under Stephanie Pierce's name it said we needed to buy ten spiral notebooks. (TEN SPIRAL NOTEBOOKS?
TEN???
) Plus, we needed ten packs of index cards, and twelve different folders in twelve different colors. As soon as I read all that, I speed-dialed Lily so she could try to calm me down. But her line was busy, so then I called Nisha. First she screamed into her cell when I told her I was on the Hard Team. And then even
she
admitted: Just from the supplies list alone, you could tell this was going to be a nightmare year in U.S. History

And now that I'd finally opened the Team Letter, summer was officially over. Which meant that the Espee nightmare had already begun

Around nine the next morning, Nisha's mom drove up to take us to Staples. I knew they were here because Nisha started beeping the horn.

“Not so loud,” I muttered to Nisha as soon as I got into the car. “Hi, Mrs. Guptil.”

“Good morning, Evie,” Mrs. Guptil said. “I told Nisha not to beep, but you know she never, never listens.”

“Sorry,” Nisha said. “Did I just wake your entire family, Evie?”

Mrs. Guptil turned around. “That's exactly what I told her:
You'll wake the entire family.
And it's Saturday; Evie's parents work very hard all week and need to sleep as late as possible.”

I smiled. “Actually, they've been up for hours. I just meant, don't wake the neighbors.”

Nisha raised her eyebrows at me. “Really? Why not?”

“No reason. I'll tell you later.”

She shrugged. But I was positive she knew what I was thinking; I mean, we'd talked about it a million times. Nisha's mom was incredibly nice to be taking us out for school supplies, but you had to watch every single word you said in front of her, because she gossiped like crazy. (Actually, the truth was, she just about never stopped
talking
.) That was definitely the bad side of hanging out at Nisha's, but of course, everybody's house had Pros and Cons. Even mine, I told myself, although right then the
only Pro I could think of was Freezing Air Conditioning

And now we were driving up to Lily's house, which was the farthest away from town (definitely a Con). Mrs. Guptil was going on and on about how unfair it was that we had to buy our own pencils, when I noticed Lily standing in her driveway with her dog, Jimmy. I poked Nisha

Lily came running up to the car. “Is it okay if I bring Jimmy? His stomach is a little funny, and I really don't want to leave him alone.”

“Lily, my darling,” said Mrs. Guptil, “I'm really very sorry, but I can't have that stinky old dog in my car.” She made a bad-smell face and waved her hand in front of her nose.

“Oh, I thought of that,” Lily said quickly. She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a travel-size bottle of spray detangler. Then, before anybody could stop her, she sprayed Jimmy's butt

“Omigod, I can't believe you did that!” Nisha cried. She looked at me in shock, and then we both started laughing

“See?” Lily said to Mrs. Guptil. “Now Jimmy smells like—what's it called? Jasmine Orange Blossom. Isn't that so much better?” She opened the car door, and Jimmy hopped in beside her, smelling so jasminey and orange blossomy, he made my eyes tear

Mrs. Guptil fanned the car air, but I could see in the rearview mirror that she was smiling. She always spoiled Lily, probably because Lily's parents were divorced and Lily hardly ever saw her mother. That was another nice thing about Mrs. Guptil, I had to admit

About ten minutes later we were at Staples. The parking lot was mobbed, not surprising for the Saturday before school. Lily gave a few private instructions to Jimmy, who she left curled up on her car seat with a still-flower-smelling butt and a half-eaten chew toy. Then we grabbed a shopping cart and did our annual mad dash through the store, yanking supplies off the shelves and tossing them into the cart while Mrs. Guptil checked things off the Team F Supplies List and scolded us for making her lose track

Aisle Six, Notebooks & Binders, was where I nearly crashed into Francesca. She was standing there with a completely empty shopping cart, studying her supplies list as if it were some kind of treasure map. Today she was wearing a halter sundress the color of those traffic cones you see on the highway, and gold chandelier earrings like the kind you wear to the Oscars, but at least she was wearing normal-looking flip-flops. Well, okay, semi-normal: They had ginormous patent-leather daisies on the toe-dividers

She was just about to turn in my direction when Samantha Pattison came racing down the aisle with a huge stack of loose-leaf paper.

“Found it,” she sang out. “Aisle Three, next to Index Cards. Oh, look, sugarpie, is that our neighbor Evie?”

“Hi, Ms. Pattison,” I called politely. “Hi, Francesca.”

Francesca looked up, obviously thrilled to see me. “Oh, Evie. Did your plans fall through?”

“What plans?”

“Your mother said you had plans today. With old friends.”

I felt myself blushing. “Right. No, we ended up here. Like everybody else. So do you need any help?”

She looked surprised. “With what?”

“Your supplies list. I know it probably looks sort of overwhelming.”

“Oh,
no
thanks—I've decided not to buy all that stuff. I'm really fine with just paper and pens.”

“Actually, you aren't.” I tried to catch Samantha Pattison's eye as she inspected the binders. “They're incredibly strict about supplies.”

Francesca laughed loudly, as if I'd just said something hilarious. “Oh, help, I'm absolutely terrified. What do you
think will happen—I'll get arrested by the Spiral Notebook Police?”

“It's not a joke, Francesca.” Suddenly something occurred to me. “Okay if I see your list?”

She handed me her Team Letter. WELCOME TO TEAM F, it said. FOR THE NEXT TEN MONTHS—

I smiled vaguely and handed it back.

Just then Nisha came running over. “There you are,” she said, panting. “I
might
have just seen Zane in Aisle Five, Mom's going completely nuts, and Lily thought she heard barking, so she went back to the car.” She suddenly realized I'd been talking to Francesca. “Hi, I'm Nisha,” she said, smiling. “Evie sucks at introductions.”

“This is Francesca,” I said, giving Nisha a look. “She's on Team F and she's also my
neighbor.
”

The word “neighbor” must have rung a bell, because Nisha blinked at me. “Well, nice to meet you, Francesca. I'm sure I'll see you around. Evie, we have, like, two minutes before Mom totally loses it.”

“Okay,” I said loudly. “We'd better find those Post-its, then. See you, Francesca.”

Francesca gave us a dazzling smile, which for some reason made me feel guilty again, and we ran off

“Why were you so weird just now?” Nisha asked as she grabbed a bunch of Post-its

I gave her the sound bite of the whole ice cream store disaster. “And now she's standing in the middle of Staples refusing to buy school supplies. Does that even seem normal to you?”

“Maybe she's just cheap.”

“She couldn't be. Her family's in the oil business.”

“You mean like cooking oil?”

“No. I think like
oil
oil.” I checked behind us to make sure she wasn't following. And also that Zane wasn't anywhere nearby. “That's why I didn't want you to beep before: so I wouldn't have to deal with her today.”

“Well, anyway, she's not your problem,” Nisha said distractedly. “Try not to obsess about her, okay? Look, there's Mom.”

Mrs. Guptil was scolding some poor stock boy about the way they'd arranged the packs of subject dividers. We managed to drag her away and pay for our stuff, then cram it all into the car on the seat next to Jimmy. I couldn't help noticing he smelled even more like Jasmine Orange Blossom than before. Lily denied it, but I'm pretty positive she'd detangled his butt for the ride home. Anyway, I
unrolled my window as far down as I could so at least my supplies wouldn't also stink for the entire school year.