But I was kind of shocked that I’d never Googled for his girlfriend before.
Well, no, not totally shocked.
It would never have been in my realm of thought that I should. To me, he was the author of the book that changed my life. I hadn’t thought of him in terms of even having a personal life. I’d only wanted to read about him as it related toGangster’s Folly.
Until now.
Until I’d sat in front of him three days a week and felt this deep connection that no doubt every other female in his classroom did.
Until I lay on the floor of his office and knew he liked that image, that it made him uncomfortable.
I hadn’t come to Bribury because Montrose was to be a guest instructor for a year. I hadn’t even known that when I’d applied. But by the time I got the offer of a scholarship to Bribury and a few other schools (one of them a legit Ivy League school, not just a wannabe), I’d found out that Montrose would be at Bribury.
I took it as a sign, and sent in my acceptance of their offer that same day.
My alarm went off, interrupting my Google frenzy and I was glad that I wasn’t being paid by the hour or I would have felt terribly guilty, or not counted the past two hours or something.
Funny, I never felt that guilt in my admin job. There, I was happy to have nothing to do and get some studying in on their time.
I packed up and, with reluctance, left his office.
Taking the bus to the Schoolport mall, I thought about where I would start back in tomorrow, even though I’d have to put in my eight-hour shift at the admin building first.
I went to the shoe department of Macy’s looking for the combat boots I’d travelled across town for, cursing the fact that I’d have to spend some of my precious discretionary funds on something I didn’t even particularly like.
I mean, I’d been to this mall too many times over the semester, spending too much of my precious money, making sure I had what would make me blend in with the other Bribury girls. It seemed like Lily had known exactly what to bring—I don’t think she had gone shopping even once since we’d arrived.
And Jane couldn’t be bothered with things like trends and fashions. I swear she got most of her clothes at thrift stores and Navy surplus places. She always looked cool and funky, but Jane was the type of personality that could carry that off. I wasn’t.
It was a struggle for me, never having been one that cared that much about clothes, mainly because we couldn’t afford latest trends when the boys’ feet were growing so fast.
But I didn’t want any of the girls at Bribury to know that, and so I came to school with what I thought was a good start, but every time a trend shifted—even slightly—I was back at the mall.
I had purchased a few pairs of Lulus in September, and had worn them with running shoes at first, then Uggs when it got colder, and depending on what I was wearing on top. But just before break I saw three different girls wearing them with combat boots and knew I’d be spending the money I’d set aside for Christmas gifts for the boys on new boots for myself.
Which made me feel like shit, but wouldn’t keep me away from the mall.
But now, with Montrose’s money coming in, I could afford both.
I stood in front of the rack and two different styles—two different brand names—of the boots commanded my attention.
Oh, God. I hadn’t taken a close enough look at which type those girls were wearing. What if I got the wrong brand?
I’d just told a National Book Award winner that he had to change his protagonist’s name without batting an eye. But now, thinking I might get the wrong kind of boot? Absolutely terrified.
“Most of the Bribury girls we see in here are going for this kind,” a sales lady said to me, handing over the—naturally—more expensive brand.
“Are you sure?” I asked. It probably sounded to her like I was hoping it was the cheaper kind, and I was, but more importantly, I really just wanted to make sure I got the right kind.
I knew it was stupid, and I ultimately didn’t evenlikethe Bribury Basic look, but I just…couldn’t stand out as the Queens white trash that I was.
That I had been. Because I’d vowed to leavethatSydney O’Brien back in Queens.
The sales lady murmured her confirmation and I bought the boots.
I went to Old Navy and got some cheap shirts and jeans for the boys. I found some perfume on sale, which I purchased for my mother. Picking up some wrapping paper, I figured I could run to the Post Office on my lunch hour tomorrow and get it all shipped to arrive by Christmas Eve on Wednesday. Shipping would probably cost me as much as the gifts themselves at this last moment, but that’s what I got for putting it off.
On the bus ride home, I thought about the combat boots and battled with feelings of self-loathing for yet again caving to the feeling of wanting to fit in, and also a feeling of jubilation that, come January, Iwouldfit in with those girls.
