Forever Snow (The Everly Girls Book 1) Page 2

  Coach Woods thought it would be a great idea to start a class on dance that day. I wasn’t happy about that, not because I didn’t like dancing, but because I was good at it. In my first life, I’d taken formal lessons since the time I could walk. All princesses had. It helped that I had been born with poise and grace. I’d learned last year that being good at anything annoyed Mia and Hadley to no end. They tripped me countless times during the soccer unit, and let me land on my tailbone while they were supposed to be spotting me during gymnastics. Both of those incidents occurred only after Coach had praised me. Now I cringed any time she paid me a compliment.

  “Okay, girls. Stretch and give me two laps,” Coach ordered.

  We knew the routine. As we formed six lines. I made sure to stay in the back. I knew better than to make myself an easy target for the Blonde Brigade. Mia, Hadley, and Noelle stood in the front line as usual, where everyone’s eyes would be on them. I watched Mia and Hadley’s almost identical blonde ponytails bob back and forth as we did lunges. I smiled as I imagined tying their ponytails together in a tight knot.

  Coach blew her whistle. “Two laps! Let’s hustle!”

  I fell into the line of girls running. I didn’t mind running laps. It was a mindless activity that helped me blow off steam. I was usually one of the first girls done. I had almost completed one lap when something hard bounced off my shoulder. I knew exactly what it was, but I refused to react to it. A few moments later, another piece of candy hit me on the back of the neck, and another on my head. Who knew small pieces of hard candy could hurt so much when thrown with the right amount of force?

  I looked over at Coach Woods who was scribbling something on her clipboard. With thirty girls running laps, it would be hard to see one jerk throwing candy, especially if she threw it quickly enough. Another candy hit me in the butt, and I stopped running. Enough was enough.

  I spun on my heels. Hadley and Mia stopped, too, wearing satisfied grins. Some girls continued running while others paused to watch the show.

  I narrowed my eyes at Hadley. “Those things hurt, you know.”

  “Clearly you’ve never had a Jolly Rancher before today. I was just helping you out.”

  Coach blew her whistle again. “Keep moving, girls. What’s the hold-up?”

  The spectators returned to running probably figuring the show wasn’t worth the wrath of Coach. Mia tapped Hadley’s arm before taking off. “Come on, Had. She’s just weird.”

  But Hadley didn’t move. We stood there, engaged in a silent war with our eyes, while girls jogged around us.

  “Albano and Fowler! What’s the problem?” Coach yelled.

  I didn’t want to be the first one to look away and let Hadley win the stare-down, but I also didn’t want to get in trouble with Coach.

  I jogged past Hadley, but not before “accidentally” bumping her shoulder to let her know I wasn’t afraid of her.

  “Hey!” she cried, but I offered no apology.

  After class, I slunk into my usual stall and changed as quickly as possible. The less time I spent in that locker room, the better. It took me less than a minute to slip back into my jeans and long-sleeved shirt. When I attempted to open the door to my stall, it wouldn’t budge. Peeking through the crack, I spotted the back of Mia’s ponytail.

  “Open the door,” I ordered.

  “Not until you apologize to me,” Hadley called from somewhere in the room.

  “I will die in here before I apologize to you!” I’d learned from many years of high school that cowering to bullies was the worst mistake I could make. Of course, I was always outnumbered. Mia and Hadley usually had the upper hand, but when I went down, at least I went down fighting.

  “Fine. We can make that happen,” Hadley replied. A round of amused giggling came from her friends.

  “Let her go,” Noelle said, but her voice was so gentle and motherly it didn’t sound like an order. “We’re going to be late for sixth period. Really, all this over a piece of candy?”

  “It’s not the candy,” Hadley argued. “It’s the flat-out disrespect. She stole from me, and I demand an apology.” Then she lowered her voice. “Come on, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

  The locker room emptied as girls hurried to their last classes, not one of them concerned for me. I knew the less witnesses there were, the harsher my punishment would be. I banged my fists against the stall. “Open this door!”

  Finally, it swung open. Noelle held it for me. I grabbed my backpack and stepped out. “Thanks,” I muttered.

  I had walked a few steps before someone grabbed my backpack and pulled me back.

  “Hadley!” Noelle snapped.

  Hadley came close to my ear, speaking through clenched teeth. “You think this is a game? You better stop playing with me, freak.” She shoved me away, sending me crashing into a girl named Tasha from my science class. Tasha was the only thing keeping me from hitting the ground. She gave me a sympathetic look as I followed her into the sea of students hurrying to their next class.

  How much more could I take of mean girls, repetitive classes, and fantasies of love that could never happen? This wasn’t a way to live. I had to find a way to end this curse. Never growing up? What the hell was Peter Pan thinking?

  2

  I couldn’t get away from school fast enough. I wasn’t waiting for Aubrey to walk home with me, because she would ask how PE went, and I didn’t want to talk about it.

  As I rushed to leave the school grounds, I glimpsed something from the corner of my eye that stopped me dead in my tracks. Stacia Walters. She sat hunched over on a bench holding her phone in her trembling hands. Half of me wanted to keep moving and focus on my own problems, but my better half wouldn’t let me. I hurried over to see if she was okay.

  “Hey, Stacia.” I sat beside her on the bench. “You okay?”

  She gave me a weak smile as she pushed her short white-blonde hair behind her ears. “Hey, Neva. Sure, I’m good.” Her voice cracked.

  “Stacia, you don’t seem good.”

  A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I hate this school. I hate everyone here, and they hate me.”

  I wrapped my arm around her as the courtyard emptied and kids eagerly left the school grounds. Stacia was a tiny thing—she almost reminded me of a bird. Most of the time she wore long skirts, heavy sweaters, and shoes that looked like moccasins.

  I’d met Stacia the first week of school—well, rescued her, actually. I’d lost my bracelet and thought I’d left it in the locker room during PE. I went to check for it right after school. The freshman girls were in there changing, and a group had gathered around the showers, laughing hysterically and chanting, “Stanky Stacia. Stanky Stacia.”

  I went in for a closer look. Two girls wrapped in towels crouched over another girl who was fully dressed. They were lathering the girl with soap who lay in the fetal position covering her head with her hands. I waited, wanting the girl to do something—to shove them away and stick up for herself—but she did nothing. She lay there covered in soap, choking on the water pouring down on her, probably just hoping to escape the situation alive.

  After shoving my way through the crowd of girls, I turned off the shower and pushed the girls away from Stacia. The one with the wet red hair frowned at me. “Who the hell are you? Mind your own business.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I shouted.

  The other girl, a blonde, looked down on Stacia, who was still shaking and cowering on the cold shower tile. “We’re doing her a favor. You have no idea what this girl smells like. Vomit and month-old garbage. None of us should be subjected to that smell, so we’re giving her a bath. Back off!”

  I pulled Stacia up. She looked so pathetic, and I couldn’t take another second of it. I narrowed my eyes at the two girls and the others watching on. “Listen, I know you freshmen are new to Rock Canyon and you have a lot to learn, but the one thing you’d better remember is that I’m not the one to mess with. You touch this girl again, a
nd I will ruin your lives before they even start.”

  They rolled their eyes at me, but looked just the tiniest bit afraid. Even now, when I passed them in the hallways, they avoided eye contact.

  I knew exactly how Stacia felt, but I also knew this wouldn’t last for her. Unlike me, Stacia had an escape from the horrors of high school. In four years, she wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. I couldn’t say the same for myself. Ever since that day, I’ve made sure to check in on her from time to time.

  I’d begged Father to forget school, to let me just stay home or be homeschooled, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He said being out of school would draw attention to me, and there was no way the homeschooling thing would work, because he had to go to work, and I’d be holed up in the house alone all day. My father had no idea what I dealt with at school each day, because I never told him. He thought I was merely bored. He didn’t know anything about the mean girls.

  Several times we’d tried to forget school all together, figuring if I got a fake ID and put on some heavy makeup, I could pass for older and get a job, but then mysteriously, a social worker would show up, because some concerned citizen was worried about my not being in school. We both knew it was the work of the evil queen, which meant she had to be somewhere nearby, watching me. That’s what made my life the most terrifying. She wasn’t about to let this be an easy curse. I had to suffer its complete wrath.

  I leaned in close to Stacia. “I know it seems hard right now, but soon, before you know it, this will be over, and none of these people will matter. You’ll find your place and your tribe and live a good life. Right now, you have to be made of rubber. Let what they do bounce off you. But never be a sitting duck. Fight back.”

  This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation. When I complained to my father about school being a monotonous, mundane experience, he told me it would help to find my purpose. I wouldn’t be bored if I were doing something useful that I enjoyed. I’d tried volleyball, chorus, and the drama club, but none of those things were for me. Helping Stacia and kids like her was my purpose. Dad was right—it made this whole curse thing more bearable.

  Stacia’s smile brightened. “Will you meet my other friends? We started an afterschool club just for us, but we’re not exclusive or anything. Anyone can join as long as they’re nice. I keep telling them how cool you are, and they want to meet you.”

  I took her hand and squeezed it. “Sure. Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

  “Awesome.” Stacia squeezed my hand back before rising and slipping her earbuds in. I watched her lumber away with her long skirt trailing behind her, fluttering in the wind. I imagined it being a superhero’s cape. That’s what Stacia needed to be to get through the next few years, and I hoped she would be okay after I was gone.

  ***

  At home, I dropped my backpack on the kitchen table, breathing a sigh of relief. I took in the scent of fresh apples and pine air freshener. Home was my sanctuary—the only place where all my secrets were safe.

  Our home was small and cozy. The walls were painted in Father’s favorite color, a deep rustic green. Our furniture was antique, carved from an array of different woods. The mossy greens and caramel browns almost made our house look like a forest. Everything was neat and tidy and in its place, because Father couldn’t stand clutter.

  My room however was my own space. The walls were a light, airy blue. It looked like the sky. My curtains and furniture were a crisp white. Paintings of blood-red apples hung from each wall.

  The house was still and quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator.

  I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen island and glanced at the clock. Father wouldn’t be home from work for a few hours.

  I opened the back door and headed for my favorite spot in the whole world—our picket fence. I walked to the back of the yard and settled down in the corner, the part where the two fences intersected.

  Sighing, I took a huge bite of my apple. Juice dribbled down my chin, but I didn’t bother to wipe it away.

  “Rough day?” asked a voice from the other side of the fence.

  “Yeah,” I answered with a mouthful of apple.

  Something lime-green slid between the slats of the fence. A Green Apple Airhead. I took the candy gratefully. “Thanks. How did you know?”

  “It’s Monday. Mondays are always hard for you.”

  I sighed again. “You’re so lucky you don’t have to go to school.”

  Over the years, plenty of friends had come and gone, but Henry was the best one I’d ever had, even though I’d never really seen him. He was a year younger than me and homeschooled. Henry said it was because he had issues, and the kids picked on him. Even the teachers couldn’t bear the sight of him. I’d begged him countless times to let me look at him, but he refused. The last time I asked, he got angry and stormed inside his house, so I’d decided I wouldn’t ask again. As much as I loved Henry, it was tough having a best friend I had never seen.

  Sometimes I would peek through the slats, but I could only catch flashes of his clothing, and he always wore a hoodie covering his head. Whatever was wrong with him had to be awful, because he never left his house.

  “What are you reading?” I asked.

  “The Hobbit.”

  “Again?”

  “It’s my favorite book.”

  Henry was always reading something. The fence was also his favorite spot. That was how we’d met a year before.

  I’d just come home from one of the worst days of school ever. During PE, Mia and Hadley had stolen my clothes from my locker and shoved each separate piece into different trash bins around the school. Not wanting to dig through garbage cans, I considered the clothes a loss and went to my next class in my PE uniform, because I had no choice. Principal Weaver, who was monitoring the hallways, yelled at me like a lunatic in front of everyone for being in shorts and violating the dress code. Being screamed at by Principal Weaver with that booming, bass voice of his was humiliating, especially when I wasn’t used to being reprimanded. Kids laughing at me as they walked by made it worse.

  I wanted to punch Mia’s and Hadley’s faces in, but instead I came home and kicked our picket fence over and over as hard as I could.

  “Hey, do you mind? I’m trying to read here,” called a voice from the other side.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Henry, and I’m trying to read, so knock it off.”

  My cheeks warmed. “Sorry,” I muttered before turning to head inside.

  “What’s wrong with you anyway?” Henry asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You weren’t kicking the fence like that for nothing.”

  Because it had been such a long time since I’d had anyone I could confide in, I spilled my guts and told him everything, even though at the time he was a complete stranger. After he listened to my problems, Henry told me he knew we were going to be best friends. He’d been right about that.

  “Hello? Earth to Neva.”

  “Huh?” I asked, shaking memories from my head.

  “I asked you what happened today?”

  I told him everything. He was quiet for a few moments.

  “Why do you like apples so much?” he asked finally. “I mean, I get that you like them, but to not be able to control yourself when it comes to anything apple-flavored—”

  “I don’t know, Henry, all right?” But I knew exactly why I had this obsessive appetite for apples. It was part of my curse. Being without apples too long turned me into some sort of apple-devouring animal, which often led to embarrassing moments like what happened in Mrs. Davenport’s class.

  Even though Henry was my best friend, I could never tell him or anyone about my curse.

  We were quiet for a long time as Henry returned to his book, and I finished my apple. We did that sometimes—just sat there not speaking. Sometimes I just needed to know he was there.

  I set the apple core in the grass and unwrapped the A
irhead.

  More coughing came from the other side of the fence. Henry had asthma and other respiratory problems. “I have to go in,” he said. “My mom’s calling me. I’ll turn the porch light on if I can come back out tonight.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice. We usually hung out longer than this. Henry always said that his mother was calling him, although I’d never once heard her. I figured either his hearing was better than mine, or he was just tired of talking to me.

  Inside, I settled down on the living room couch to start my homework. I would scream if I had to diagram one more sentence, solve one more equation, or look at another periodic table. Although I’d become good at all those things and doing them was a breeze, it was boring and monotonous. The other kids only had to take these courses once. Me? I’d have to take them for the rest of my life.

  The purr of Father’s pick-up truck as he pulled into the driveway brought a smile to my face. He blew the horn, which usually meant he needed help bringing in the groceries. I dashed out and wrapped my arms around his neck as he stepped down from the truck. He gave off the faint smell of tar—one downside to working for a roofing company.

  “Hello, my love,” he said softly. “How was your day?”

  “It was great,” I said. He had so much to worry about. I didn’t need him worrying about my school life, too.

  I followed him to the bed of the truck, where he lifted the covering, handed me the lightest bag, and took the other two himself.

  “Yoo-hoo!”

  I gagged at the syrupy-sweet voice coming from the other side of the street. We turned to see Dorothy Hodges, who everyone called “Dot,” heading toward us. I noticed how she put extra effort into swinging her ample hips as she crossed the street. Her attempts to impress my father were desperate and pathetic.

  “Hi, Trent, how’s it going?” she asked, completely ignoring me.

  Father swallowed hard. “Fine. Thanks.” He wanted nothing to do with anybody in the neighborhood, but he would never be blatantly rude.