Chapter 7

“Knock knock knock!”

            Violet groans. She rolls out of bed, where she was lying with an open chemistry textbook, and pads towards the bedroom door. Violet and I have a silent agreement that whenever someone knocks on the door, she’ll get it. I still feel uncomfortable around most people at Valley Academy, besides Violet and Pearson. And sometimes Hudson. He spends a lot of time with us, and it’s obvious that Violet doesn’t mind it too much.

            But tonight Pearson is standing in the doorway. I’m not surprised. It’s Monday, the first day of our tutoring. It’s snowing outside, the fat white flakes I’m used to by now, and Pearson’s black curls are sprinkled with snow. It’s the evening, so we’re allowed to wear our own clothing. Pearson has on a pair of corduroys and a thick green plaid shirt.

            “Hello ladies,” he says. Technically, boys aren’t allowed in girls rooms, but Pearson takes a step inside anyways. Then back outside, and inside again. In, out, in, out. “I’ve come to escort you to the land of the fourth graders.”

            “How gentlemanly of you,” I tell him. I sit up, grab my knapsack, and walk out of the room. Violet follows me, shutting the door softly behind us.

            “This is so stupid,” grumbles Violet. We start to descend the winding staircase, down to the ground level. The fourth graders are in the smaller, junior building across from the main school, so we have to cross the courtyard to get there. Soon my hair is covered in flakes just like Pearson’s. “I mean, I didn’t want to do this. I just skipped class one time because-”

“C’est la vie,” says Pearson. Since he’s lived in Switzerland for so long, Pearson has picked up French fluently. C’est la vie is his particular favorite saying, meaning that’s life.        

   We step inside the junior building and wipe our shoes on the mat in the doorway. Violet guides us towards the library, a massive room with bookshelves stretching from the floor to the ceiling. A group of small students are crowded in the middle of the room, sitting in beanbags or lying on the carpet.

            “I love the library,” whispers Violet. “It’s the only place in Valley Academy where you can just relax. You know, enjoy a good book.”

            “Its official, Violet,” says Pearson. “You’ve out-cooled yourself.”

            Violet shoves him. We’re approaching the students now, and have gotten the attention of three pairs of eyes. One of them shouts out Pearson’s name. He’s well known around the younger grades because of his work as a prefect.

            “Hey, you three,” says Pearson. Always the one to take center stage. “These are my friends, Holly and Violet. We’re helping you with your reading today.”

            A little girl with red pigtails and a splatter of freckles walks straight towards me. The other two go and line up beside Pearson and Violet, and we quickly drift apart. “Uh, why don’t we go sit over here?” I suggest, pointing towards a cozy-looking table in the corner of the room. The girl shrugs, and I take that as my cue. We take a seat and she pulls out a thick notebook.

            “What’s your name?” I ask her. I’ve never been good with children- the few I babysat in Long Island always thought I was boring and complained to their parents once I left- but I’m determined to get on the right foot with this one. “I’m Holly.”

            “Madeleine,” says the girl.

            “That’s a nice name,” I tell her. “Where are you from?”
            “Seattle.”

            I think of Brighton, Pearson’s friend with the carrot hair and infinite amount of freckles. He was from Seattle, wasn’t he? “Hey, do you know a boy named Brighton?” I’m not sure why she would, but I’m jumping on this conversation opportunity like a lifeboat.

            “Yes,” Madeleine says slowly. “He’s my brother.”

            “Really?” I look a little closer at her, and realize I can see the resemblance almost immediately. They have the same dimples, big smiles, and ginger hair. “Oh. That’s funny. I’m friends with him.”

            “Yes. He has a lot of those.” Madeleine cradles her hands underneath her chin, and I’m struck with an unfamiliar pang in my chest. Maybe it’s her cuteness, or her youngness, but here I am acting like a regular therapist.

            “So, what about you?” I gesture around the library. Pearson is lying on the carpet with a book in front of him, his skinny legs spread out behind him, and Violet is sitting at one of the empty desks in the other end of the room. Their tutor subjects stand or sit awkwardly next to the two, like they’re not sure what to make of these ninth graders. “Are you friends with any of them?”
            Madeleine shrugged. “No. I just came this year, so I could be with Brighton. I haven’t met many people- yet, anyway.”

            “Huh.” It’s the third week of September, but I don’t comment on it any further. “Well, we should probably get started on your homework.” I point at her spelling book, a red notebook with MADELEINE RYNA written on it in messy printing, and we get started.

            But for the rest of the session, I can’t shake the image of Madeleine sitting alone. At lunch, in the courtyard, in the common room. All alone, with no one to talk with. I make a silent promise to myself that tomorrow, I’ll bring a friend for Madeleine.

            Pearson catches my eye and gives me a worried expression, his eyebrows shooting to the top of his head. “You okay?” he mouths. I can tell what he’s trying to say, even from twenty meters away, because of the way he exaggerates every word.

           And I nod back, because I am. 

Reviews

[BillyGirl]

Holly is such a sweet person, I liked the interaction between her and Madaleine. Keep up the great work!

[T. Logan]

I love this story. And the chapters are always up so quickly. Keep up the good work!