A Girl by Any Other Name (6 page)

Unfortunately, my class and the one next door let out at the same time. They merged, cramming the

narrow hallway. I only caught a glimpse of her.

She wore that damn cap again, but her hair was that perfect shade of brown highlighted with

strands of honey. She had wide sunglasses on too, shielding her eyes from me, making me more

suspicious. She had a nice figure—slim waist with wide hips and long legs perfectly displayed in her

fitted frayed jeans and white cotton shirt tied in a knot at the front. No Converse, but I loved the high

sandals that capped her feet. She definitely didn’t dress like Sylvie, but there was something in the

graceful way she moved that flooded me with memories.

My heart stammered in my chest so hard that I had to lean against the wall for support.
Is it my

Sylvie? My Lenore?
I restrained myself from grabbing her arm, snatching off those sunglasses and

releasing her hair from the baseball cap. It was a surefire way to get myself canned or grant me a one-

way hall pass to a psychiatric hospital. I sympathized with my old friend Edgar Poe.

I was searching for a dead girl after all.

Chapter Five

Excerpt from
Raven Girl

Age 12

“Come on, Tanner, we have to roll,” Nate yelled, hopping on his Schwinn.

We’d stopped at Walmart to grab a few sodas before heading out to the high school. It was

necessary to get to the football game as early as possible or the good seats would be gone, making it

difficult to study the plays as effectively. We dreamed of owning that field in a few years, so we took

our football very seriously, although some of us were more interested in watching the cheerleaders. I

had to admit there were a few times when I’d gotten a glimpse of what I was sure was pussy, so I

couldn’t say I never looked.

One thing about living in Texas, you always knew what you were doing most weekends. Friday

nights everyone attended the high school football game. Saturdays were chores, barbeques and pick-

up games of football. Sundays were church followed by watching more football, but on television this

time. In the spring, we did the same thing but changed it to baseball.

Nate stared at me impatiently. Typically, all the guys would be following my bike tracks, but I

was loitering, unable to stop staring at
her
. She sat by herself on the bench outside the store,

alternating between playing with the buttons on her black lace dress and twisting a strand of her long

hair.

“I’ll meet up with y’all.”

“You know I can’t save you a seat. It’s gonna be a full house.” Nate wanted to get what we

called the sweet spot. It was three-quarters of the way down the center bleachers, and afforded us an

opportunity to view the cheerleaders and easily observe the game. We weren’t obsessed with girls

yet, but we were very curious.

“Then don’t,” I replied more forcefully.

Nate stood in front of me then followed my gaze to Sylvie. He sighed with clear irritation. “You

don’t want to come so you can hang out with the freak?”

My fists clenched and I fought the urge to kick his ass. My dad was the sheriff and Nate’s dad

was the mayor so it wouldn’t do me or my ass any good to punch him. Plus, he was my best friend.

“You call her that again and you’re going to see just how powerful my throwing arm is.”

Nate stared at me for a few seconds, shaking his acne-ridden face, before riding off with the rest

of our friends. I made my way to the bench and sat next her. As usual, she didn’t acknowledge me

right away. We didn’t need the pretense of conversation to create comfort. It was just there.

“What’s wrong?” I finally asked.

“Nothing,” she replied.

“What happened to you at school?” She hadn’t been in class in the afternoon.

“I had to go to the nurse’s office.”

“Are you sick?”

She laughed. “Not exactly.”

“Then what?”

“I have to buy something and I’m sort of nervous.”

I chuckled. “Is your daddy having you buy his booze now?” It was a mean thing to say, but I’d

decided a long time ago that I didn’t like Mr Cranston very much.

“Very funny.” She turned to me, flashing me with brown eyes, wide and bright with anger.

“Sorry.”

“Just for that, you’re coming with me.”

I didn’t want to, but I nodded. Whatever she had to buy was really upsetting her. I didn’t like

seeing her like this. “Fine, because if we keep sitting out here, we’ll get in trouble for loitering.”

We walked into the store. I stepped aside so she could lead the way. When she stopped in the

middle of an aisle in the back of the store, studying the rows of brightly colored plastic packages and

cardboard boxes, my stomach churned.

“Girl, are you crazy?” I asked, walking away. She grabbed my arm.

“Just stay here.” She said it with a desperate plea in her voice—the one that got me to do the

weirdest things.

“What the hell for?” I demanded, feeling duped into this chore.

“Because I need you to.” That was all she had to say. This was the last place in the world I’d

ever want to be, but here I was…because she needed me.

She stared at all the choices, raising her eyebrows in confusion. How did she not know what to

get? I thought girls just knew this stuff like birds knew how to fly. The queasiness got stronger, and I

worried I might puke at any minute. How would I explain that when they came to clean up the aisle?

“Why are there so many choices?”

“Who cares? Just pick one so we can go.”

“I don’t want to get the wrong thing.”

“Jesus, girl, make up your mind already,” I grumbled in a hushed whisper. The last thing I

wanted was for someone to find me in this particular aisle. My only consolation was that it was

currently devoid of people.

She didn’t make a decision, choosing to torture me instead by reading every label. I shifted

uncomfortably, trying to decide if I should run or stay. I’d never been so uneasy in my life. Finally, I

picked up the largest box that said ‘extra absorbent’ on it and chucked it at her head.

“Ouch, what did you do that for?” she asked, rubbing her face.

“Take that one and let’s go, now!”

She picked it up and I grabbed her hand before she could do any more comparison shopping.

“Wait,” she said, stopping as we almost neared the end of the aisle.

I sighed. “What now?”

“We should buy some more stuff. I don’t want it to be too obvious.” She chewed on her lower

lip, and her hands trembled so much I thought she might drop the package.

She was embarrassed about this too. I nodded at her. “Yeah, you owe me some candy or

something after this shit.”

I went to grab a basket. By the time I returned, she was in the candy aisle, clutching the box

against her chest. I held out the basket for her. She carefully placed the item with the picture of pearls

on it inside as if she was handling a live grenade. Why did it have pearls on it? I didn’t want to know.

I flung bags of Laffy Taffy, gummy worms, Snickers and licorice rope, concealing it. She added a bag

of chocolate kisses, gingerly placing them on top of my pile like she was building a house of cards.

“This is why you went to the nurse, right?” I asked as we headed to the checkout.

“Yeah, I got my period.”

I pressed my hand against her mouth. “Jesus, girl, don’t say it out loud.”

She laughed against my palm, tickling me with her breath. I dropped my arm, surprised how soft

her lips felt. “Well, it’s what happened. The nurse gave me some stuff, but I need to buy more.”

“Why didn’t you tell your dad?”

“He would have freaked out.” Somehow, I couldn’t imagine Mr Cranston freaking out, but I also

doubted he would have helped her. He seemed content to ignore her existence.

“Cal, will you check us out?” she asked timidly, staring at the lines.

“You want me to buy this?” I asked as if it was an illegal item. I thought it might be in this case.

She smiled coyly. “Let’s do it together.” I shook my head in disbelief, even though she was

completely serious. “It’s just that it’s all boys cashiering or Mona Simms, and you know she’s super

nosy. I don’t want her to ask me questions.”

She was right. Mona Simms’ other part-time job was local gossip collector. Sylvie and her

father were curious inhabitants of our small town, which peaked Miss Simms’ insatiable prying. Hell,

when they’d first moved here, Miss Simms had made public pleas for any information about them,

reasoning that it was good for all of us to know who are neighbors were.

I scanned the checkout. Mike Turner was manning one and Stan Watkins the other. This was no

good. Mike’s parents played poker with mine. Stan Watkins was a senior at the high school, and the

last thing I wanted was to be a product of Prairie Marsh High’s rumor factory before I even got there.

Therefore, I had to settle for the lesser of three evils and go for the only viable choice…Mona Simms.

I threw our items on the conveyer belt, strategically hiding that blue and white box under a

mountain of sugary sweets. It was a dumb idea, because it only made it more obvious. Sylvie stood

close behind me, trying to be invisible as she always was. It was funny how she managed to do that

while wearing ill-fitting clothes and white powder, but she was typically successful.

I’d heard adults trying to rationalize her reasoning with false tones of concern. They’d assumed

she was on drugs or craving attention. I’d even heard some suggest her daddy knew her more

intimately than a father should. My mother and father always defended the Cranstons. A stern warning

from my parents carried enough weight so that the loud voices became hushed slithering murmurs, but

they were no less hurtful.

I knew better, though. Sylvie dressed oddly because she was trying to avoid people. It worked.

People talked about her, but not to her, and she preferred it that way. That was everyone but Mandy

and me. I knew we were Sylvie’s only friends, and for some reason, it made me feel special. I hadn’t

chosen her. She’d chosen me. We never talked in school, but I spent just about every day with her in

some capacity.

Miss Simms scanned our purchases and held a bag of licorice mid-air, pausing to stare at the

box of maxi pads. “Cal, why are you buying this?”

Shit. Most people used their personalities to attract friendship and acceptance, but Mona Simms

relied on gossip. She bartered it like currency, often using it to garner favor with the community. I

suddenly wished I’d picked another checkout line.

“I’m shopping for my mother,” I replied quickly.

Mona arched one of her drawn-on eyebrows at me. I noticed the mole on her right cheek moved

independently from the rest of her features. She smacked her lips together, which looked clownish

since her chosen lipstick shade of glittery orange drooped outside of her actual lips. “What about all

this candy? Surely your mother doesn’t have this much of a sweet tooth.”

“It’s for Mandy,” I stammered, wanting to shut her up quickly. I could have just said it was for

me, but I wasn’t thinking too clearly at that point.

“Does your momma know that you’re buying all this for your sister? Mandy’s already heavy for

her age. I don’t think it’s wise to encourage her with candy.”

What?
Was this woman calling my sister fat? I knew Mandy was a little plump, but hell, that

was baby fat. It was ironic as hell, since Mona Simms looked like a cow in woman’s clothing.

“Miss Simms, I’m in a hurry. My momma’s waiting for me.”

She laughed, looking down at the maxi pads. “Of course she is. You’re a good boy for doing this

for her, Cal. Not every boy would do this.”

No shit. To my relief, she finished scanning our items. Sylvie stuck a twenty in my hand, which I

held out to Miss Simms before she even gave us the total. “Now, it’s this girl who could use some

candy,” she remarked, gesturing toward Sylvie. I suddenly wished the store were more crowded, and

there were people behind us. I doubted Mona would stop this opinionated conversation, though, even

if it was to do her job. “We sell clothes here, dear. You should find something that actually fits you.

Doesn’t your father feed you?”

Sylvie didn’t respond, which wasn’t surprising. There were actually some people in our town

who swore she was mute.

“If money is a problem, I could talk to the pastor about getting you some church donations from

our clothing drive. You don’t have to be a member. We Christians want to help everyone.”

Oh, hell no.

“Is that where you get your clothes from?” I was surprised by how even my voice sounded,

especially since my fists were clenched so tight it actually hurt. Mona’s sugary smile shriveled into a

deep frown, causing the wrinkles in the corners of her eyes to intensify. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid

thing to say,” I added quickly. She nodded and opened her mouth to respond, but I cut her off. “You’re

the biggest woman in town. They’d have to sew all the donated clothes together to get an outfit to fit