Girl Squad Read online

  “Don’t wear that out,” Mom said, frowning and pointing to the control button.

  “Why? Does it run down the battery?”

  “I’m sure it could.”

  I made a face at Rachel in the backseat like, “Oh boy, the battery could run down.” She pretended to push her window button up. I laughed so hard I got the hiccups.

  “Stop it, Cal,” Mom said. “That’s so unladylike.”

  She could kill my good mood faster than a lightning strike. I turned away from Rachel and stared out the window at the flat, treeless horizon. Just on the other side of the road, the wheat fields shimmered in the sun, giving the illusion of a watery wave undulating as far as I could see. I stared a little too long and it made me dizzy. We turned on Second Street and cut through block after block of brick, ranch-style houses on identical lots that made up that side of town.

  A few minutes later we hit Main Street. We rolled past a row of one-story shops—a bakery, a drycleaner, a plumbing supply store, a food market, all places I’d grown up with. I had never lived anywhere else. The church rose on the corner at the far end of Main, its heavy façade dominating the block. Mom pulled the Buick into the church parking lot and went to the spot closest to the main door.

  “Privilege of being Volunteer of the Month,” she winked.

  She taught Sunday school to fourth graders. Her regular job was part-time at an accountant’s office where she did bookkeeping.

  “Okay, girls,” she said, giving us both a hug. “Be good.”

  “She’s all happy chappy all of a sudden,” Rachel said as we boarded the bus and got settled in back.

  “That’s how it is these days. One minute she’s mad as hell. The next she can’t stop smiling.”

  I glanced out the window to see if she was going to wave goodbye to us and caught a glimpse of her in the parking lot with a man I hadn’t seen before.

  “I wonder who that is?”

  “Who?” Rachel said, looking over her shoulder.

  “The guy talking to my mom.”

  He was tall and well-built with a shock of red hair.

  “I don’t recognize him,” I said.

  “Who knows?” Rachel said, turning her attention back to the group.

  As the bus pulled out of the parking lot, I gazed at Mom and him for as long as I could. I lost sight of her just as, I could have sworn, it looked like she got into a car with him. And not just any car. It looked the same as the one I’d seen the night she dragged me out of bed to tell me about the divorce. I thought about it for a few miles, but before long, the gossip from school took over and I let it go.

  The hottest story going around was about this new family who had just moved in over the summer. They were all the talk because they bought the biggest house in town. There were two kids—one boy our age and one girl older than us. The boys were all bug-eyed over the girl, Jane. They talked about her like she was some kind of beauty queen. All of us girls were getting worked up about hating her before we’d even seen her. Word was she was coming to camp, but her mom was driving her because she didn’t believe the church bus was safe. How weird, we all thought. Who would want their parents dropping them off like that? She sounded like a horrible spoiled brat.

  Chapter Three

  That first morning, I tiptoed out of the girls’ dorm and into the great room of the church’s cabin. No one else was up yet. I had unsuccessfully tried to drag Rachel out of bed. I walked by the fireplace that dominated the room and out into the New Mexico summer. It was still cool before the sun came up. This was my favorite part of the day. I loved to see the sunrise.

  “Look at that,” I said out loud to myself as I sat on a rock ledge watching it come up that first morning.

  “Hey,” Rachel said, climbing up to sit next to me. “I’m really mad at you.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You ruined my dream. I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

  “What was the dream?”

  “I was an astronaut. I was in Houston and I was about to be the first girl in space.”

  “Don’t be mad at me. I didn’t mean to.”

  “It was so real,” she said, staring out at the desert.

  “Come on, we’ll be late for roll call.”

  As we walked back to the cabin for breakfast, we passed the outdoor amphitheater, the wooden benches rising up against a backdrop chiseled out of the red rocks and red dirt. We walked by buildings with classrooms for study sessions. And there was a canteen where, if you had some spending money, you could buy candy bars and Cokes.

  “How do you get to be an astronaut anyway?” Rachel asked.

  “Hmm. I’m not sure, but I’m guessing you probably need to be good at science.”

  “Shoot. I got a C last year.”

  “That’s because you don’t try. You didn’t turn in your project on time.”

  “Right. But how did I know it was gonna ruin my chance to be an astronaut?”

  “Yep. That was it. The only thing standing between you and a moon shot.”

  It took her a second to realize I was kidding. “You are evil, Carrie Ann.”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  As we walked through the prayer garden, I heard someone coming up from behind and turned to see who it was. I caught my breath. Oh my god. That’s her. Jane. My stomach felt like I’d swallowed one of the nearby cacti. Why was I so nervous all of a sudden? My throat tightened up. I was dying for water.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hi.” My voice sounded strange and I just stood there, staring at her like an idiot.

  “You must be Jane,” Rachel said.

  “And you are?”

  “I’m Rachel. She’s Cal.”

  I noticed her clothes right away. They looked expensive and not like anything you could get in Dumas. I understood why the boys had been so loopy over her. She was different from the rest of us, that’s for sure. She was almost too perfect, even the way she stood there with her purse over her shoulder, her outfit put together just so, like someone you would see on the cover of a magazine.

  “Where are you off to?” she asked.

  “It’s time for roll call. Aren’t you coming?”

  “Is that a Bible?” she asked, ignoring my question and pointing to my clutched hand.

  Before I could stop myself, I said, “Good News for Modern Man.” I could see she had no idea what I was talking about. “You know, The New Testament. In modern language?”

  She stepped closer and held my eyes so long I had to look away. “Do you buy all that?”

  I paused, backing up, thinking, maybe for the first time, about whether there was any choice. “Are you asking if I believe in the Bible?”

  She sat down on a stucco bench and motioned for us to join her. She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse and lit one. I gasped and exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Rachel, shocked at how bold she was.

  “Want one?” she asked.

  I shook my head, looking around to see if anyone else was coming, my heart beating rapidly. Rachel just sat there with her mouth hanging open. We sat silently, me worried about her getting caught smoking.

  “I’ve never been to a Bible camp before,” she said.

  “Do you like it?” Why do I care? Don’t be such a geek.

  She raised her eyebrows and leaned back against the bench, crossing her legs. Her thighs flexed at the hem of her skirt and I noticed how muscular her legs were. I must have stared a little too long.

  “Soccer,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I play soccer. That’s why I have these quads.”

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

  “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

  How stuck up.

  “My father thought this camp would be a good way for me to meet some kids before school starts again since we got here so late.”

  “I see,” I said, now just wondering how we could get away from her without being rude.

&n
bsp; “He says these churches are the center of social life in a small town, especially in Texas. And hey, don’t be disappointed.”

  “I’m…what? What do you mean?”

  “I can tell this stuff means a lot to you.” She waved her cigarette hand in a circle.

  I turned red. I could feel it. Is she making fun of me? I wanted to change the subject. It was as though Rachel read my mind when she jumped in.

  “You’re not from Texas, then,” she said, more of a statement than a question.

  “I was born in California. We lived in LA until I was in fifth grade. Then we moved to Houston, now here. My dad’s in the oil business. He’s a petroleum engineer.”

  She said it so matter-of-factly, like it was normal to have an engineer for a father.

  “Wow,” I said, wondering what California was like, or even Houston. “But why here?”

  “He got hired to run some big project. Something about a petroleum reserve. I’m not really sure what it’s about, but it’s a big deal. I guess I’ll be stuck here through high school. Unless I decide on boarding school.”

  She blew a plume of smoke into the air above her head. Boarding school—one more thing I couldn’t imagine. I wasn’t even sure what it was, exactly. But I wasn’t going to show it.

  “Boarding school. That would be cool,” I said, trying hard to sound like I knew what I was talking about.

  “It’s in upstate New York. My mother went there.”

  “What’s it like? Have you ever been there?”

  “I visited last year on spring break. I have to decide soon if I’m going to go there.”

  We sat in silence for a minute or two as she finished her cigarette.

  “So,” she said, “are you doing this Santa Fe thing?”

  “Yeah, we always do. It’s great. You get to bargain with the Native Americans. They have all their stuff laid out on blankets around the square. You should go.”

  “It’s a date,” Jane said, touching my knee as she stood up to leave. “See you later.”

  Don’t go! I watched her walk, her sandals clicking on the stone walkway. Her blouse lifted in the wind and I saw her bare back. A rush went through me, like a flock of birds just took off from the middle of my stomach.

  That night after dinner and cleanup, we all got together in the great room in front of the fireplace. The Youth Minister wanted to do a music talent show and encouraged anyone who could sing or play an instrument to come up to the front. Several kids came forward who could play piano, acoustic guitar, and conga drums.

  I played the clarinet, but this was no place for that. I had taken guitar lessons for a while, until Mom decided she didn’t want to spend the money or time driving to the teacher’s house. I still practiced on an old one I picked up from a pawn shop, but I was too shy to play in front of a crowd. The Youth Minister knew I had been working on it, though, and he called me up.

  “No!” I panicked. “Not by myself.”

  “I’ll play with you,” someone said.

  It was Jane, who was making her way to the guitar stands and looking over the options. My heart was beating so fast and hard that I thought I was going to pass out. I was lightheaded as I walked toward the front of the group.

  “Here,” Jane said, handing me one of the guitars, “you play rhythm.”

  I fumbled with the strap, my hands jittery as I sat in a chair next to her.

  “Just follow my lead,” she whispered into my ear as we set up.

  We played folk songs while the singers, and there were lots of them, took turns leading or going solo. I managed to keep up with Jane, strumming chords and feeling more confident with each song. She would look at me every so often, nodding and smiling like she approved.

  “That was so cool,” I said, stealing glances at her as we put everything away for the night. “How did you learn to play so well?”

  “My mom,” Jane said. “She plays.”

  “Wow. She taught you herself?”

  “She stuck a guitar in my hand when it was bigger than I was.”

  “I’m jealous.”

  “I could teach you…if you want.”

  “Really? But you don’t have to.”

  “I want to. You’ve got potential,” she laughed.

  “Oh, yeah, right,” I laughed. “We could go on the road and sell out shows.”

  “You never know…” She tweaked my nose, sending stars swimming in front of my eyes.

  “Hey,” Rachel said, joining us. “Do you want to do s’mores out by the firepit?”

  “You go ahead,” Jane said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Hey!” I called.

  She turned to look at me.

  “Thanks. Thanks again.”

  She winked and walked away.

  “Cal,” Rachel said as we sat roasting marshmallows by the fire. “What’s going on?”

  “Going on?”

  “With that girl. Jane.”

  I might have paused for half a second before I said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re acting all…googly or something.”

  “Just because I’m being nice to a new girl doesn’t mean I’m googly.”

  She gave me a look that said you’re full of it.

  “Stop,” I said.

  Rachel didn’t say anything else, but I knew she was right. Something about Jane made me feel…shaky, off balance. Not like my normal self. I’d only known her for a day, but I got a weird hollow feeling when I thought about her. I didn’t want to talk to Rachel about it. I didn’t understand it. I wanted to push it away and pull it back at the same time.

  Chapter Four

  The Santa Fe trip had always been my favorite part of the New Mexico visit. We loaded up on the coach bus for the twenty-five-minute ride into town. Everyone spilled into the street with orders to report back to the bus in four hours. That was enough time to wander, have lunch, and shop for trinkets the Native Americans sold on the square. I grabbed my sunglasses out of my bag. It was so bright I couldn’t open my eyes without them. The locals set up shop on the sidewalks, mostly under awnings or roofs, to stay out of the sun. I counted my spending money. Just enough to buy one or two souvenirs.

  “What do you think?” Rachel asked as we surveyed the possibilities.

  “I’ve got my eye on this,” I said, picking out a beaded leather coin purse with a zipper. The cream-colored leather felt soft in my hands. The beads, sewn in the shape of a headdress, were typical Indian colors—red, yellow, turquoise, orange.

  “How much?” I asked the old woman seated in a wooden chair at the edge of the blanket.

  “Five dollars,” she said, without looking up at me.

  “I have three.”

  The woman turned away, silent.

  Jane joined us on the sidewalk.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “I’m bargaining,” I whispered. I put the purse back down on the blanket and started to walk away.

  “Cal’s good at this,” Rachel said proudly to Jane.

  “Four-fifty,” the woman said.

  “I’ll pay four. That’s it,” I said as I glanced over at the same selection of purses on the blanket next to hers.

  The woman wrapped the purse in tissue and took the four dollars.

  “Nice job,” Jane said.

  We walked down the row of blankets, looking over the trinkets, jewelry, clothes, scarves, toys, and games. Jane picked out a turquoise ring for her mother and a peace pipe for her younger brother.

  “I hope he doesn’t use this as a bowl,” Jane laughed.

  I didn’t get the joke and looked at Rachel, who shrugged and started laughing anyway.

  “How about lunch?” Jane suggested. “I’ll buy.”

  “Sure,” I said, thinking how easy it was to get used to a friend who had money.

  “No thanks,” Rachel said. “I’ll just get something from the grocery store…like we always do.”

  She said always loud and in my face, and
then she glared at me.

  “Really?” I said. “What’s wrong with doing something different for a change?” I said different loud and in her face.

  “I don’t want to do something different. I want to do it the way we always do.”

  “Well, fine. I’m going with Jane.”

  “Fine,” Rachel said and turned away.

  “I didn’t mean to cause a problem,” Jane said as we watched Rachel go.

  “Don’t worry about her. She’ll get over it.”

  “Are you sure? Seems like you two have a routine going. I don’t want to mess that up.”

  “You’re not messing anything up. It’s fine. Really. Let’s go.”

  We found a small Mexican café on a side street and sat at an outdoor table in the courtyard. I wasn’t used to ordering in restaurants since my family almost never ate out. And if we did, it was either a cafeteria or a drive-thru. I started to sweat a little as I looked over the menu. I worried that I’d look like a doofus in front of Jane if I didn’t order the right way.

  I glanced at her and she looked back with a playful smile. How hard could it be? I settled on tacos since I was pretty sure I knew what would appear on the plate.

  “Was it hard leaving your friends in Houston and moving up here?” I asked.

  “Oh, not that hard. With my father’s job, we know we can move on short notice. So I guess I never get that attached to one place.”

  She lit a cigarette and smoked while we waited for our food.

  “Still, you must have friends who you miss. I can’t imagine moving away and not seeing Rachel almost every day.”

  She paused, drawing on the cigarette. “There was one girl… We got really close. But…” She crushed her cigarette in the ashtray. “It didn’t really work out in the end.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My parents didn’t approve of her.”

  “Why? What didn’t they like?”

  Jane looked away from me, away from the table.

  “They said we spent too much time together and it wasn’t healthy. That people were starting to talk about me and her.”

  “That’s terrible.”