Part 6 (1/2)

Savannah was nervous when her father drove her to Bishop England High School the next day. Daisy had already left on her school bus when Tom and Savannah drove away. Luisa was still in her room, and as she always did, Savannah had gobbled a quick bowl of cereal, and had been ready for her father promptly at eight a.m.

She said little on the drive north on Mark Clark Expressway. And she was obviously worried about it, as he tried to rea.s.sure her. Once they reached Daniel Island and the sprawling fifty-acre campus on Seven Farms Drive, he put his Jaguar in a s.p.a.ce in the parking lot and walked her into the princ.i.p.al's office, where they congratulated her on her good grades in New York and welcomed her to the school. The a.s.sistant princ.i.p.al handed her a schedule, which looked reasonable to Savannah, and offered to take her to her cla.s.sroom for her first cla.s.s, and Savannah quickly kissed her father goodbye.

The school was much larger than the one she'd gone to in New York, and looked like the schools she'd seen in movies, with miles of lockers lining every hall. There were students congregating in little cl.u.s.ters, with books in their arms, laughing, and then hurrying to cla.s.s. A few of the boys glanced at her with her lithe figure and long blond hair. She had worn jeans because they said it was allowed, Converse sneakers, and a plaid blouse that hung out of her jeans, with a sweats.h.i.+rt from her volleyball team in New York. She knew it was too late to join the team here, but she was hoping to play intramural sports if she had the chance.

The first cla.s.s on her schedule was French. She took AP French cla.s.ses in New York and had gotten good grades for her boards. The teacher was reading a paragraph from a book as Savannah slipped into her seat. She glanced up, looking slightly annoyed by the distraction, nodded, and went on. There were thirty students in the cla.s.s, and most of them looked bored. The cla.s.s lasted for fifty-two minutes, and when the bell rang, after the teacher had given them their a.s.signment, everyone bolted for the door. The teacher smiled at her as she left, and Savannah wandered down the hall. She had been given a map, but everything was confusing and she had no idea where she was. She was turning the map around and around, with her books still in her arms, when a girl with bright red hair in a pony-tail and freckles came over to her with a smile.

”Looks like you're lost. Can I help?” Like everyone else except Savannah, she had a heavy South Carolina drawl.

”I think I have history next. Thanks,” she said as she handed the pretty redhead the map.

”You're on the wrong floor,” the girl explained. ”The cla.s.s is straight up, right over our heads where we're standing, and Mr. Armstrong sucks. He gives too much homework and has bad breath. Where're you from?” She was still smiling and Savannah was grateful for the help. No one else had asked, although several boys were staring at her from their lockers across the hall, and Savannah thought they were cute. She hadn't had a boyfriend since the end of junior year. She just hung out with friends. And she knew that if she'd had to leave a boyfriend in New York to come here, it would have been worse.

”I was from here originally. I was born here. But I've been living in New York for ten years.”

”Welcome back.” The girl smiled broadly. ”I have to go upstairs anyway. I'll walk you up. I have chemistry. I always flunk. I can't wait to get out of school. I'm taking a year off.” Savannah nodded as they hurried up the stairs. The girl was wearing a sweats.h.i.+rt and jeans, and so were most of the boys. It was no different than New York, although she felt out of place here somehow, as though there were a sign over her head, ”I'm new.” ”Why'd you come back?” the girl asked her.

”I came to stay with my dad till the end of school. I live with my mom in New York.” She didn't want to say that she was there because her life was at risk. That was too heavy to share with other kids, particularly one she didn't know.

”If you've been fighting with your mama, I know alllllll about that,” the girl said with a grin. ”My mama and I fight like cats and dogs, but I love her to pieces anyway, bless her heart. I can get around my daddy, but my mama is a b.i.t.c.h,” the girl said, and Savannah couldn't help but laugh. ”Yours too?”

”No, mine is pretty good. Great actually. We just thought it was a good idea if I visited my dad for a while.” It sounded suspicious even to her, but she didn't know what else to say.

”What's your name, by the way?” She was curious about the girl from New York. She had style even in her sweats.h.i.+rt and jeans, and a spark in her eye.

”Savannah Beaumont. What's yours?”

”Julianne Pettigrew. My great-grandfather was a general or something like that. Sounds pretty boring to me. I get so tired of all that c.r.a.p. My grandmother's in the United Daughters of the Confederacy, and goes to tea parties all the time.” She was tired of it but had mentioned it anyway. It made Savannah think of her father's mother.

Julianne had gotten Savannah to her cla.s.sroom by then, and promised to catch up with her later. She said she'd be in the cafeteria for second seating at twelve-thirty and invited Savannah to join her. Savannah glanced at her schedule and saw that she was free then too and said she'd try to find it.

”Thanks for the help. See you later,” Savannah said, and disappeared into her cla.s.sroom. There were twice as many students in history as in French, and she got the last seat in the back row, behind a wall of boys who pa.s.sed notes to each other and ignored the teacher completely, who did exactly what Julianne had said he would, and gave them too much homework.

She had two more cla.s.ses after that, English Comp and a social studies cla.s.s, and a break. And then it was lunchtime, and she found her way to the cafeteria, but didn't see her new friend. Two boys asked her to sit with them, but she felt awkward since she didn't know them. She was helping herself to a yogurt and fruit salad and a bottle of orange juice, when Julianne found her.

”You were right,” Savannah said, happy to see her. Finding someone in the cafeteria was like looking for a lost sock at the airport. There were hundreds of kids milling around and sitting at large and small tables, and the noise level was tremendous. ”Armstrong gives too much homework.”

”I told you. I just got a D in chemistry again. My mama's gonna kill me. She's got this thing about good grades, but she never went to college herself. She just goes to lunch and plays bridge with her friends. You don't need to go to college for that.” Savannah nodded. She didn't volunteer that her mother was a lawyer, it would have sounded too stuck up. ”My daddy's a doctor. A pediatrician.” Savannah nodded again.

They found a table and sat down, and a flock of girls and boys joined them. Apparently, Julianne was popular and seemed to know everyone in the school. Halfway through lunch she admitted to Savannah that she had a boyfriend. He was the captain of the football team, which was a big deal.

Everyone at the table was making plans for the weekend, talking about the basketball game on Friday night, asking about friends, exchanging phone numbers and trading gossip. It was a lively group, and Savannah felt a little out of it, so she listened. She had been totally confident in New York, but she felt overwhelmed here, with so many new names and faces, and such a big school.

She was feeling somewhat dazed by the time her father picked her up at three o'clock. Julianne and two other girls had given her their phone numbers, which was a good beginning, but she felt too shy to call them.

”How was it?” her father asked as she got in. He thought she looked tired and ill at ease.

”Kind of overwhelming, but okay. I met some nice people. There are just a lot of them, and it's hard having all new cla.s.ses and new teachers. Most of the material is familiar, and not much different from what I've been doing in New York, except for the civics cla.s.s, which talks only about the south and southern history. The Confederacy is definitely still alive and well in Charleston. I guess it wasn't bad for a first day,” she said fairly, and he nodded, as they headed home.

”A lot of homework?” he asked with interest. He was being very attentive to her, far more than she had expected, and it touched her.

”About the same as at home. We're all kind of in the homestretch, waiting to hear from college. You've got to screw up pretty badly to blow it in the last term. It's pretty much coasting from here.”

He laughed as she said it.

”I'm sure they'd be happy to hear that.”

”They know it. We don't even have final exams at the end of senior year at home. You just have to get pa.s.sing grades in your cla.s.ses.” She wasn't going to hear about her acceptances till the end of March, some of them even April, so she wasn't worried about it yet.

They were at the house five minutes later, and her father dropped her off and went back to the bank. He said he'd see her later. She went out to the kitchen for a snack, and there was no one there. The two ladies who usually sat in the kitchen had left a note that they'd gone grocery shopping. And there was no sign of Daisy or Luisa. Savannah went upstairs to her room with an apple in her hand and a can of c.o.ke, just as Daisy bounded out of her room with a broad grin. She knew her mother was out, so it was safe to throw her arms around Savannah.

”How was school?” she asked, following Savannah into her room, where she put her books down and bit into the apple.

”Kind of scary,” she admitted. It was easier saying it to her than her father. ”Lots of new people.”

”Mean teachers?” Daisy asked sympathetically, as she tossed herself onto Savannah's bed and watched her.

”No. Just different.” And then she remembered something she had wanted to ask Daisy, who was now her official counselor on local customs. ”What's this 'bless her heart' thing everyone says? They're always saying 'bless her heart.'” It had seemed a little weird to her, and Daisy laughed out loud when Savannah said it.

”That means they hate them. First, you say something really mean about someone, and then you say 'bless her heart' right after. My mama does it all the time. So does my grandma. We call that 'nasty-nice' here.” Savannah laughed then too. Julianne had said it about her mother. ”If you say 'bless your heart' to someone's face, that means you really, really really, really hate them. My mama does that too.” It was easy for Savannah to believe now that she would. hate them. My mama does that too.” It was easy for Savannah to believe now that she would.

They heard the front door slam right after that, and Daisy ran back to her room, in case it was her mother. They didn't want to get caught together. Savannah heard Luisa's bedroom door close right after that, so she was glad that Daisy had left. Luisa would have had a total fit if she knew they were so friendly and sleeping in Savannah's room at night.

Alexa called Savannah shortly after that and asked her how school was, and Savannah told her all about it. She said she had made a friend, more or less. And just out of habit, her mother asked her what her name was, and Savannah told her. There was a silence at the other end as Alexa digested what her daughter had said.

”That's strange,” she finally said, and sitting at her desk in New York, she had an odd look on her face. Savannah could hear it in her voice.

”What's strange?”

”There must be a thousand kids in that school, and you found the daughter of the woman who was my best friend for all the years I was in Charleston. She did the same thing, she sought me out as soon as I moved there, helped me with everything, showed me the ropes. She was like my sister.” Alexa's voice drifted off as Savannah listened. She could tell there was more to the story. She knew her mother.

”And? So?”

”She claimed undying loyalty when your father told me he was divorcing me, and we'd be friends forever. I never heard from her again when I left. She stopped writing to me. She didn't return my calls. And last I heard, she and Luisa were best friends. Very southern. Watch out you don't get your heart broken there too. It's all a lot of phony bulls.h.i.+t.”

”Don't be like that, Mom.” Savannah scolded her. ”There are people like that in New York too. People are friendly down here, some of them.” She was thinking about Luisa then, who was anything but friendly and certainly hadn't shown any southern hospitality to Savannah. ”There are real people and fake people everywhere. That's not southern or northern.” She was right, but Alexa didn't want to hear it.

”Not one of those people stuck by me when I came back to New York. I never heard from them again, after seven years of thinking they were my best friends. I don't have anything to show for those years, except you.” Alexa smiled sadly. ”And I miss you so G.o.dd.a.m.n much. You've been gone for two days, and I can hardly stand it.”

”Yeah, I know. Me too. It feels like it's going to be forever. When are you coming?”

”Not this weekend. The next one. It's the best I can do. This case is a killer.” She was exhausted and Savannah could hear it. ”How were your cla.s.ses?”

”Boring. I'll get through it,” she tried to rea.s.sure her. Her mother sounded stressed. And she knew that her mother was dreading coming to Charleston, but she would have gone to h.e.l.l and back for her daughter. Savannah was thrilled she was coming.

Julianne called her on her cell phone before dinner, and had discovered the same thing Savannah had, that their mothers had been best friends when they were little. ”My mama said to send yours her love, bless her heart,” Julianne said, and Savannah had to fight to keep from laughing. She wanted to say she knew that meant Julianne's mother hated hers. But Alexa would have said the same thing if it were one of her idioms. Being from New York, she was more direct and had called Julianne's mother a traitor.