Such a Tease

Last teaser from this WIP, I promise! But I'm heading out of town for a few weeks, and my mind has been so busy making lists of what to pack (cannot forget essential items such as passport, camera, contact lens solution, new sexy combat boots, tight leopard-print leggings... what? those are essential!), that I haven't had time to compose a real blog post in a while.

So in the meantime, as I stuff 5 different cell phones into my bags in the hopes that at least one of them will still work in Europe, here's your tease of the week! From early on in the Criss-Cross, when the main character comes home to talk to her little sister after sis's first Move-Up Day* visit to the big bad land of high school:

Stacked on the kitchen table are high school assignments. Booklists, suggested reading lists, essay topics. Even a periodic table of the elements. I don’t remember having mounds this big freshman year. And Amy hates homework – she never does any extra work if she can help it, which she usually can. Amy’s smart – smarter than me, honestly. But that means she can usually do the bare minimum and still coast through her classes with a B average easy.

“Getting a head-start on next year?” I ask.

“Yeah, well, when everyone expects you to be mentally challenged, you sort of have to work overtime to make up for it,” she mutters.

I frown, not sure I heard her right. Maybe she didn’t find out after all. Maybe something else went wrong today. “You okay? You’re acting kind of weird, Ames.”

She rounds on me, wooden stirring spoon in hand, her whole body cocked, one hand on her hip and the other raised. A stance she copied from me. Like she copies everything – my nail polish color, my hairstyle, my clothes. My boy-band crushes.

The scowl on her face is all Amy, though. “I’m acting weird? Oh yeah. Because I’m the freak of the family.” Her lips part for a second, like she’s going to continue. Instead she whirls to the stove and stirs furiously.

Ramen doesn’t take that much concentration. I stare at her backside, try to come up with a response. What happened today?

That’s when a scrap of paper, stuck between the pages of a Bio lab manual, catches my eye. I slide it out carefully. Stare at the handwritten message on its surface.

Can’t wait to see more of your hard work next year.

No need to check the signature. I recognize the slanted scrawl instantly. His.

The room starts to swirl. I shove my chair back so hard it cracks against the floral wallpaper. Amy glances at me, still glowering. “What the hell is this?” I practically growl.

She drops the spoon and makes a grab for the paper. I yank my hand away. Not fast enough. The note tears in two, straight down the middle. She crumples her half in her palm as tears appear in the corners of her eyes. “That? That’s the only good thing that happened to me today, Vi. No thanks to you.”

I stare at the half of the note I came away with. Next year. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why the hell didn’t you warn me that everyone thinks you’re a psycho? I know you’re not the most social person in the universe, but you made it sound like you at least had some friends. People you talked to. Whatever.”

“I do!”

“Not according to them,” she snaps. “And did you ever think how it’d impact me?” She drops her voice an octave, imitating some football player I’m sure. “Hey look, it’s the nutjob’s little sister. Hey sister, are you crazy too?” Then her voice shoots up three registers to cheerleader level. “Like, ohmigod, tell us all about the mental asylum they sent her to. Is it true she’s got a knife fetish? Nono, I heard she hallucinates. Does she like, own a gun? Should we be worried? Poor Jessica drew the short straw last week, so she had to sit with that girl on the volleyball bus. I don’t know how she stands it.”

The last one hits like a physical punch. Jessica’s one of the few people on the squad who voluntarily talks to me. Or so I thought. “Well gee, I’m so sorry that I ruined high school for you. How inconsiderate of me to get made fun of. Good to know my sister defends me, at least.”

“I tried!” she shouts. “But it’s pretty fucking hard when you haven’t told me anything about what’s happening.”

I gape at her. Amy never swears.

“You made it sound like you had some friends,” she continues. “Where the hell do you go after school when you aren’t at track or volleyball? The girls at lunch said you skip practice all the time anyway.”

“The girls at lunch had a lot to say, apparently.”

* Also, as a footnote, did other people have Move-Up Days? You know, where at the end of the year you go on a "trial run" of the next grade up? Or was that just my crazy school? Cause my writer's group didn't seem to know what it was...

Of course, their schools do mad things like have a February break, so... Guess every state is different! ;)