“Thinking deep thoughts?” Cody slides in next to me on the bench, mocking me with a sculpture-like “Thinker” pose.
“Nah. Just stressing about holiday family stuff.”
“I know all about that,” he says. Then he abruptly changes the subject. “Hey, I need some food. Come with me?”
“I already ate,” I say, poking my half-eaten turkey sandwich. “But I’ll keep you company.” I don’t want to seem over-eager, but I’m intrigued by Cody. Maybe even more so after finding out about his nasty little habits. I haven’t forgotten that Spike warned me about him, but somehow it just makes him more compelling. Something completely different than what I’m used to.
We walk over to the cafeteria and I wait in line with him while he buys a Viking burger and fries. He grabs four tiny paper cups of ketchup, then we leave the crowded line and make our way outside again, threading through the sea of tables under the awning.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Cody says finally, toying with his burger, taking out the pickles and throwing them in the first garbage can we pass. He seems almost nervous. That must be a first for him. I get a little edgy, too, and look at the picnic tables, the groups of people, anywhere but at him. As we walk, I catch a glimpse of Cassie over by the pizza cart. I feel a twinge, and I’m not sure if it’s anger or sadness. I hope she sees me with Cody. I hope she sees how I don’t need her.
We’re heading back toward the art-building patio, but before we turn the corner, Cody stops and looks at me.
“I don’t know if you’re into this kind of thing, but I have this group of Wiccan friends who are having a celebration for the winter solstice on Saturday.” He looks at me kind of weird.
“What’s a winter solstice celebration?” I refrain from adding that it sounds like something my mom would go to.
“Well, it’s really just a regular meeting of the local Wiccan group, but with food,” he admits. “They’re into like, nature and being in touch with your inner energy. There’s nobody too freaky, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Who said I was worried?” I feel like he’s issued a challenge. What’s with him and Mikaela thinking I’m so innocent, so easily shocked? “Sure, I’ll go. Whatever.”
“Mikaela already said she’s up for it, so you guys can hang out if you’re nervous.” The funny thing is, he’s the one who looks nervous. He’s being all ADD, eating fries one at a time and pacing back and forth in front of me, tugging on his eyebrow ring.
His fidgeting is kind of cute, though. Is he really that anxious about asking me to a party? I can’t help a tiny smile. For once, I feel like the one who has the advantage.
“I said I’ll go, jeez. Just stop doing that,” I say.
“Okay, cool.” He stops pacing and gives me a lopsided grin. It makes me a little wobbly, so I duck my head and start walking back to the picnic table.
“Wait a sec,” Cody says mushily, his mouth full of fries. “I just wanted to say … it’s cool you can make it. I think you’ll really enjoy it. “ He gives me another odd smile.
I’ll get a kick out of the Wiccan winter solstice? I did tell him about our interfaith tree, but it still seems like a weird thing to say. He doesn’t even really know me that well.
But then, he did ask me to a party. Maybe he wants to know me better.
I can live with that. Even if I do kind of wish we were going to be alone together instead.
From Shiri Langford’s journal, April 20th
I called Mom on Thursday and started crying over the phone. I felt so stupid, but I couldn’t help telling her everything, not about THAT but about my mediocre grades, about how I feel like such a failure and how I’m never going to be able to get into law school, about Brendan and how I’m confused about him and how I just don’t know what I’m going to do.
She was giving me advice, and telling me I needed to do this, do that, keep taking my medication and just try to ride it out, that it’ll all work out somehow. I wanted to laugh and weep at the same time, because she really doesn’t understand that all I want is for all of it to just GO AWAY.
twelve
The pile of clothes on my bed is about a foot high and growing, but I have yet to find the perfect combination.
“So, what does one wear to a winter solstice party?” I hold the phone to my ear with my shoulder as I toss possible shirts onto my bed from the dresser drawer.
“Black,” Mikaela says. I hear her switch on a faucet on the other end of the phone line, her voice muffled by running water. “With black shoes.”
“Figured.”
“And a pointy little witch hat.”
“Riiiight.” I smile. “Plus green makeup. You can’t forget the green makeup.”
“I think I’ve got some of that green facial goop.” We both laugh. My mom walks up and stops just outside my open doorway.
“Sunny, honey, you’re going to put those away before you go, right?” She glances pointedly at the pile of clothes on my bed, then sighs. She’s still moping, but I don’t want to spend every second of my seventeenth birthday hanging out with her and Dad. “I don’t know why you can’t just wear that nice blue blouse you had on at dinner.”
I resist groaning with disgust. “Mom! It’s a party. I’m not wearing a ‘blouse’ to a party.” I roll my eyes, then relent. “Yes, I’ll put it all away.” Once she clears the doorway, I toss the clothes into the back of the closet.
“Sunny honey … ” Mikaela teases in a syrupy voice. “Sunny honey, can you please help me make a yoga scrapbook?”
“Shush,” I tell her with an embarrassed laugh. I switch the phone to my other ear. “It could be worse.”
“Sunny honey, you should wear something long and flowing, the better to dance euphorically around a bonfire with.”
“Okay, do you know something I don’t?” I dig around in the closet, pushing some of my old trendy duds to the back. “Seriously. I hope there’s not a bonfire. I’m not doing any naked frolicking in the forest.”
“Oh, jeez, can you imagine? Cody frolicking naked in the forest with a bunch of witch wanna-be’s?”
“Hmm.” Take out the witch wanna-be’s and it’s not an entirely unappealing image. “Hey, I’ve got a long skirt here. It’s black with a lacy edge at the bottom.”
“Sounds perfect,” Mikaela says. “Really. It’s just a party. They aren’t going to cavort around in capes or anything. Hurry up and put it on so you can pick me up. I have to go finish my eyeliner.”
It only takes me a few minutes to finish getting ready. I put on the black skirt, a tight dark-green sweater, and my black Converse hi-tops, and I leave my hair down except for a black beaded clip on one side. I check my phone. It’s seven thirty, fifteen minutes before I’m supposed to pick up Mikaela. I put on dark-red lip gloss and a quick spritz of vanilla body spray, grab her Christmas present and Cody’s—a snowman ornament that I “goth-ified” with black marker—and rush out the door.
The air is cool and perfect; the sky is clear and full of stars. Happy birthday to me—and it’s my first night of being able to drive Mikaela around without technically breaking the law. No more worrying about every passing cop car whenever I have friends in the car. I’d always pictured this moment differently—Cassie in the front, maybe, with the rest of the swim crew in the back—but I’m glad it’s not like that.