“You should take something for the afternoon, too,” Penny said. “Most teachers let you eat in their rooms, as long as you clean up after yourself. The only one who’s real…witchy about it is Mrs. Gaillaro. She’s a witch about everything.”
“Penny!” Aunt Mary said in a sing-song warning voice. Misti took an extra bag of chips and added it to her pile. She watched as Penny dumped a large portion of cereal into a sandwich bag.
“Easy to eat during class.”
Misti nodded as if that made perfect sense.
“Is there a paper bag somewhere?”
“Don’t be silly.” Penny opened one of the island cupboards and produced two lunch bags with pretty designs on them. “Everyone has one of these now.”
Misti accepted the bag without hesitation. Heading into a new high school was not something unusual for her, but anything she could do to avoid being a target would be helpful. She just wanted the next eight months to go by quickly with her playing her usual role as an unnamed background character.
“We’re going to watch a new show on Netflix, a baking show. Do you girls want to join us?” Aunt Mary asked after their lunches were safely stored.
“I have spreads to look over,” Penny said.
“I think I’m going to go read for a bit,” Misti said. Penny mouthed “good choice” to her. Uncle Bill looked about ready to fall asleep.
“Okay, just remember, lights out at 10.”
Misti followed her cousin up to their rooms.
“Is it okay if I shower?” Misti asked before Penny closed her door.
“Of course; it’s your shower too. I prefer to shower in the morning. Are you a night showerer? Dad is. He says it helps him relax.”
“I guess,” Misti said. She didn’t want to tell her that in the past she had to shower whenever she could. There was never really a schedule.
“That’s terrific! We don’t have to fight over the bathroom! I have to be honest, I was worried about that. Silly of me but, like, I am not a morning person!” Penny came back out into the hallway and opened a closet in the bathroom, getting out two towels.
“You can use my shampoo and conditioner. They have coconut oil and remind me of the beach! Supposed to be good for waves.” Penny had straight-as-a-board hair. But Misti was intrigued. She had a natural wave that some girls had told her was nice and even envied.
“Thanks.”
Penny grinned.
“I mean, thanks for everything. For being so nice. I realize having me here is an inconvenience. But I promise it is just until after high school.” Misti blurted it all out.
Penny stared at her, her eyebrows raised. “You’re not an inconvenience, Misti. We absolutely wanted you here once we heard about what had happened. My mom cried, and I overheard her telling my dad that we should have tried to take you years ago.” Penny crossed her arms and glanced behind her, checking for the prying ears of her parents. “I don’t know if you remember coming here, like, maybe ten years ago?” Misti nodded. The princess party flashed through her mind again. “I remember you and I had so much fun for, like, two weeks. It was summertime, and we had a pool out back and we rode bikes. We stayed up in my room reading scary stories. It was like having a sister!”
Misti felt herself smile genuinely for the first time.
“I woke up one morning and you were gone. I guess your mom just packed up and took you and left in the middle of the night. No goodbyes. It was the first time I saw my mom cry.”
Disappearing in the middle of the night was not something unusual to Misti either.
“I’m sorry,” Misti apologized. Not that it was her crime. But she had spent her life atoning for her mother.
“It’s not your fault,” Penny said. “I just know that my mom was worried about you then. And I think she has regretted not trying to find you earlier.”
Misti’s throat tightened. She had assumed, had been informed by her mother, that they were alone in this world. She did remember leaving that night. She recalled crying in the back of a taxi. And her mother telling her it was better, that her aunt was an evil witch who was going to boil her alive if they stayed. That her aunt was resentful of how pretty Misti was compared to Penny.
“Go shower!” Penny said. “Just unwind. The high school hasn’t had a new student in two years. You’ll be the star of the show tomorrow!”
A different kind of anxiety gripped Misti’s heart.
Misti showered, loving the warm water and taking a deep whiff of the shampoo. It smelled like the beach. Misti thought about the few weeks she and her mom camped on the beach when she was in middle school. It was one of the few good memories she had.
She brushed her hair and dressed in the pjs she had grabbed from her room. When she emerged, Penny’s door was ajar. Misti peeked in and saw her on the computer, her eyebrows scrunched together.
Misti went to her room and discovered a couple shirts and a pair of jeans lying on the bed.
“Thought you might prefer something fresh for your new school,” the note read, signed “Penny.”
The shirts were nothing special. One was a simple T-shirt with stripes. The other was a sweater with a cable knit pattern. The sweater was not long enough for Misti’s comfort so she chose the T-shirt. The jeans were newer, never even worn. They had fashionable tears in them and a slight roll at the ankle.
Misti had just finished pulling on the clothes when there was a gentle tap at the door. Misti opened it and Penny grinned.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I always prefer having a brand new outfit to wear to school on my first day! You know, the first impression is what counts! You look so cute!”
“Thanks!” Misti wanted to appear displeased that her cousin had deemed her clothes not good enough, but she was glad that she had.
“I have just the thing to finish that off!” Penny skipped back to her room and appeared with a cranberry-colored sweater. Misti put it on.
“This will look fantastic with your boots!” Penny said, clapping her hands in approval.
“Thanks again,” Misti whispered.
“Any time!” Penny said. “I already told Dad we’ll need his credit card this weekend. No offense, but you need a new wardrobe.”
“None taken.” Misti had promised herself that she would not become attached. She was an expert at not becoming attached. But now, the first day, she could feel herself breaking that pledge.
After she had switched back to her pjs and Penny had returned to revising her yearbook, Misti propped her pillows against her bed and took out a battered book from her bag. She opened its crisp pages to the next blank one.
She had started keeping a journal during an eighth grade English class. The teacher had forced them to have one during her class, allowing them ten minutes to scribble in it. She vowed to never read it unless they had requested, assuring them that their lives would be better if they got their feelings out on paper. Misti had been uncertain initially, just writing out song lyrics. One day, she opened up with little events and then moved on to bigger moments: her concerns about her mom, her latest living condition. And although she moved after being at that school for only six weeks, she had continued with the journaling.