Something Girl Read online

  Something Girl

  Beth Goobie

  orca soundings

  Copyright © 2005 Beth Goobie

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Goobie, Beth, 1959-

  Something girl / Beth Goobie.

  (Orca soundings)

  ISBN 1-55143-347-8

  I. Title. II. Series.

  PS8563.O8326S64 2005 jC813’.54 C2005-900420-7

  Summary: Will Sophie speak up about the abuse at home?

  First published in the United States, 2005

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2005920478

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Department of Canadian Heritage’s Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP), the Canada Council for the Arts, and the British Columbia Arts Council.

  Edited by: Melanie Jeffs

  Cover design: Lynn O’Rourke

  Cover photography: Firstlight.ca

  Orca Book Publishers

  PO Box 5626, Stn. B.

  Victoria, BC Canada

  V8R 6S4

  Orca Book Publishers

  PO Box 468

  Custer, WA USA

  98240-0468

  08 07 06 05 • 5 4 3 2 1

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  Printed on 30% post-consumer recycled paper,

  processed chlorine free using vegetable, low VOC inks.

  for Otis, Nathan, Doug and Shane

  Chapter One

  My boyfriend, Larry, was driving me back from a dance at a high school across town. He pulled his car up to the curb outside my house. It was past my curfew, so I opened my door and started to get out.

  “Hey,” Larry shouted. As usual his stereo was on loud, the bass booming.

  “What?” I shouted back, keeping my door open. I’d promised my dad I wouldn’t be late. He was going to be mad about this, really mad.

  Larry rolled his eyes and turned down the stereo. “Well, uh, Sophie,” he said, tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. Then he said, “I think I’ll be going out with Wendy from now on. So it’s over between us, okay? I’ll still see you around school, and we can talk if you want, but that’s all. Don’t get your hopes up and try to get me to change my mind, because I won’t.”

  I sat there, just staring at him. The fact that he was breaking up with me wasn’t a surprise. Neither was Wendy — he’d spent all night dancing with her. It was just that I didn’t know what to say. I never do. I’m completely dumb and boring — a waste of time to talk to.

  Stupid, I thought, looking down at my feet. Stupid, no good, nothing girl.

  “So,” said Larry, revving the engine. “See you, I guess.”

  Then he turned the stereo back up, so I got out. Before I’d even closed the door, he took off down the street, tires squealing. For a moment I just stood there, staring after him. We’d been going out for three months, and every day I’d been expecting him to break up with me. I was surprised it had taken him so long, actually.

  I started up the front walk to my house. As I did, the door opened and there was my dad. He didn’t say anything, just stood and watched me. Right away I got a creepy feeling in my back — cold and tingly at the same time. Something was going to happen — I knew it was.

  “Late again?” he said as I got close. “Get in here, now.”

  My knees went weak, and my heart started pounding through my whole body. I squeezed past him in the doorway, trying not to touch him, but he grabbed my arm. Then he closed the door and shut off the porch light.

  There was no light inside the house. Everything was in shadows — just me and my dad and his big dark anger. Before I could move, he grabbed my head with both hands.

  “Coming in late,” he hissed. “Breaking your curfew. Waking me up in the middle of the night. And you’re on probation for stealing. Hanging around with a no-good boyfriend who’ll get you into more trouble. Trouble, trouble, trouble — you’re nothing but trouble.”

  He banged the back of my head against the wall. “Stupid,” he said. Then he banged it again. “No good,” he said. He banged it again. “Nothing,” he said.

  Then he just kept banging my head against the wall. Bang bang bang. My brain was sliding around in waves of blackness. Bang bang bang. There was nothing I could do, nothing I could say. Stupid, no good, nothing girl.

  Finally my dad stopped. He let go of my head and let me slide down the wall to the floor. For a moment we stayed like that. He leaned over me and panted. I sat there holding my head, just to make sure it was still there.

  Then my dad turned and went upstairs. I listened to his footsteps walk up each stair, then into his bedroom. The bed squeaked as he got in and lay down. I could tell he’d left the door open. This meant I was going to have to be extra quiet going past it when I went to my room.

  If I could stand up, that is. When I tried to lift my head, the pain was like a gun going off. It hurt to rest it against the wall, and it hurt to let it just hang. So I sat with my chin in my hands, trying to hold my head steady and away from the pain. This helped, but after a while my arms started to wobble.

  I put my hand in my mouth and bit down on it hard, so it hurt more than my head. Then I made myself stand up and start climbing the stairs. The whole time I kept biting my hand so I wouldn’t think about my head. When I got to the top of the stairs, I stopped and listened. I couldn’t hear my dad snoring, so he had to be awake. Just thinking about this made my head hurt more, so I bit down harder on my hand and started down the hall.

  Quiet, I was being quiet. I was tiptoeing. But when I got to my dad’s door, he was standing in it and watching me.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, not looking at him. Please, please, I thought. Don’t hurt me. Just let me go to bed, please.

  He didn’t say anything, just watched me go past him and down the hall. When he got like this — quiet and staring — it was the worst. Anything could happen — anything.

  But tonight he just watched me. Quiet as anything, I walked past him and into my room. I didn’t close my door because that would make him mad. I got straight into bed without undressing. Then I lay there in the dark, trying to listen past the pounding of my heart.

  I couldn’t hear anything. This meant he could still be standing in his doorway, listening. Or he could have gone back to bed. Or he could be right outside my door, waiting to see if I made any noise. Whatever I did now, I couldn’t make any noise. It was important to be absolutely quiet. I couldn’t roll over. I couldn’t breathe heavily. I had to be quiet, quiet, QUIET.

  I had to pee like crazy. I’d drunk two pops at the dance, which was stupid. Stupid, no good, nothing girl. I should have known better than to drink anything. Now I was going to have to hold it all night.

  Was he out there listening?

  Quiet, I had to be quiet.

  Chapter Two

  When I woke the next morning, my dad was gone for the day. I could tell by the way the house felt, as if there was more space in it. Even on Saturdays my dad went to his office, where he sold real estate. Like he said, he had to bring in the money to take care of my mom and me.

  I was glad he was gone, so I could get up slowly. My head still hurt and my body felt heavy and slow, as if I was getting old. I went downstairs, step by step, really carefully. I tried not to think about what had happened last night. That was over
and done with, and today was another day. Like my dad said, it was important to start each morning completely fresh.

  My mom was sitting in the kitchen when I came in. She didn’t look at me, just stared out the window. It was a nice day outside, but she stared out windows a lot. Too much. It was kind of hard to take sometimes.

  “Your dad told me to tell you to mow the lawn,” she said. “He wants it done before he gets home tonight, and no excuses.”

  I nodded. I had mowed the lawn last weekend and the grass had hardly grown. But my dad liked things to look good. A real estate agent’s house had to look the best on the block.

  After that my mom just stared out the window. I didn’t tell her anything about my date with Larry and she didn’t ask. I used to tell her things and she would ask questions. But now she just stared out the window, so it was like talking to no one.

  I ate some cornflakes, then went outside and mowed the lawn. This made my head hurt worse, so I took some aspirin. Then I biked to the river to visit an old fort that my friend Jujube and I had built. It was made of old boards and a large piece of metal, nothing much. But some trees hid it, and no one knew about it but Jujube and me. This made it a good place to go when things got bad at home.

  When I got to the river, I wheeled my bike into the trees and locked it. Then I lifted the blanket we’d hung over the fort’s doorway and crawled inside. There were more blankets on the floor, and some old sofa pillows. It was a bit hot and smelled like old sofas. But when I lay down, I got really sleepy. It was different here from everywhere else, just lying in the fort with the river making pretty sounds close by. I didn’t have to worry about my dad telling me to keep quiet. I didn’t have to worry about not having my schoolwork done, or other kids laughing at me. I didn’t even have to wonder why my mom stared out the window instead of talking to me. I could just breathe and look at the sun shining through the cracks between the boards. It was so nice, not having to worry.

  I think I fell asleep, because suddenly I heard someone crawling into the fort. Right away fear slammed through me the way it does when I’m surprised. I thought, It’s my dad! But then I saw it was Jujube and relaxed.

  Jujube got her nickname from those bright jelly candies. One of her eyes was blue and the other green. It made her look kind of alien. When I first met her, I wanted to call her E.T. but there was a spaced-out kid down the street who already had that nickname.

  I got to know Jujube because I used to babysit her. Now she was twelve and kind of young for me to be friends with, since I was fifteen. But she was smart, and I liked the way she was always talking. I wasn’t a talker. I mostly just listened — like my mom, I guess.

  “Froggy!” said Jujube, sitting down beside me.

  Froggy was my nickname around the neighborhood. My dad gave it to me when I was little. I’m not sure why. Maybe he thought I looked like a frog or something.

  “Yeah?” The aspirin I’d taken was wearing off. My head was starting to hurt again. I wasn’t really in the mood for Jujube’s talk.

  She poked me in the arm and leaned close. “You won’t believe it,” she said with a grin. “I’ve figured out the next place the aliens are going to land.”

  I rolled my eyes. Aliens again. Jujube was always talking about them. So I just said, “You watch The X-Files too much.”

  “It’s a good show,” she said. Then she handed me a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” I tore open the bag and started eating. As usual, I was starved. It was probably way past lunchtime.

  “Where did you get that bruise?” asked Jujube.

  “What bruise?” I stared at her. How could she see the bruises on the back of my head?

  “There.” She pointed to my arm. When I looked at it, I saw some purple fingermarks. My dad! I thought. Last night. But I shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

  “I bumped into something,” I said.

  Jujube sighed, and it got really quiet. Then she must have decided to change the subject because she said, “I’ve figured something out. Something really interesting.”

  Jujube was smart and liked to show off her brain. She won science awards and got a lot of ideas. I called them her “crazies,” but I was kidding. She really was smart.

  “The aliens visit Planet Earth every 3,594 months.” Jujube talked slowly, as if she was announcing the discovery of a new planet.

  “Uh-huh,” I said, trying not to laugh. “What about it?”

  Jujube’s voice sped up so fast, I think it got ahead of her brain. “Well,” she said, “aliens always leave a sign to show where they’ve been. I’ve seen it in pictures of their landing sites. You have to look really close, but it’s there. It’s awesome.”

  “What sign?” I asked.

  “It looks like three triangles,” said Jujube. She pulled a notebook and a pencil out of her pocket and drew a picture. It looked like three triangles that had bumped into each other.

  “So?” I asked.

  Jujube’s mouth just kept going. “The first place they landed was in the Middle East,” she said. “I think most aliens land there first. Maybe it’s like a cosmic energy place, or something. Then it was South America, in the Andes. I think they’re going to land here next.”

  This was too much, and I started to laugh. “In Edmonton?” I said. “This is one of your crazies, right?”

  Jujube sucked in her lips, then decided to ignore me. “The way I figure it,” she said, “the aliens will show up in Edmonton about a month from now — summer vacation.”

  I wasn’t looking forward to July. My dad would be home on vacation from his real estate office for a whole month.

  “Do they take people with them?” I asked, half serious.

  “Only one-way tickets,” Jujube grinned.

  I gave a long sigh. To be able to lift up and float away from all my problems …If only life was like that — aliens dropping by to rescue the nothing girl. If only.

  Chapter Three

  Jujube waited while I finished the bag of chips. Then we crawled out of the fort and headed over to her house. She wanted to show me something she’d found in her science books about aliens. It was more of her crazies, but I was still hungry and hoping for some lunch. I could listen to anything as long as I was eating.

  I doubled Jujube on my bike, but we got off and walked when we got to her street. Her mom didn’t like me giving Jujube rides on my bike. She said it wasn’t safe. My mom never said anything about it. Too busy staring out windows, I guess.

  When we got to Jujube’s block, I pulled down my T-shirt sleeve to cover the bruise on my arm. If Jujube’s mom saw it, there would be trouble. She always asked about the littlest things — bruises, a bump on my head, even why I looked tired. She noticed way too much.

  “Did you tell your mom anything about that bump I had on my head?” I asked Jujube.

  Jujube started staring at the ground, as if she thought aliens were going to crawl out of the grass. I tried to get a good look at her eyes. When Jujube was nervous, the green eye got greener.

  The green eye looked very green.

  “Jujube,” I hissed. “You promised you wouldn’t tell.”

  Jujube didn’t look at me. Instead she took off, running down the sidewalk toward her house. This meant trouble — big trouble. My head started pounding like crazy.

  “What did you tell her?” I shouted.

  “Nothing,” Jujube called back at me. “I didn’t tell her anything.”

  “How come you won’t look at me then?” I yelled. What if Jujube’s mom noticed the new bruise on my arm? She would ask questions for sure. Then another social worker would come to my house. After he left, my dad would beat me up worse than last time. He told me it was my fault social workers kept showing up and making him look bad with the neighbors. And he said it was my job to make sure no one asked any more questions.

  I dropped my bike and took off after Jujube. When I caught up to her, I grabbed her arm.

  Juju
be tried to pull away. “She kept asking, Froggy,” she said. “That was an awesome bump you had.”

  “You didn’t have to tell her!” I shook her a little. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely think.

  “I didn’t tell her that much.” Jujube started to cry. This made me feel bad, so I dropped her arm. “I told her you fell, just like you wanted me to,” she said.

  I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I let it go. What could I do? I would just have to be extra careful and make sure I covered the bruise on my arm. And I would have to make sure no one could tell how bad my head hurt. It sure was pounding. With a groan, I locked my bike to a street sign and followed Jujube into her front yard.

  Just then Jujube’s neighbor, Rick, came around the side of his house. He was sixteen and in the drama club at my high school, Scona High. Lots of girls liked him.

  “Hi, Jujube,” he called. “Hi, Sophie.”

  I could feel myself going red, so I stared at the ground. Jujube waved back and called, “Hi, Rick.” She was in her first year at McKernan Junior High, and she wasn’t into guys yet. She was into aliens.

  “Hey, Sophie, you going to the end-of-the-year school dance?” Rick started walking toward us.

  “Maybe.” I kept looking at the ground. I was getting redder — I could feel it. I hated it when I did that. Most girls didn’t go radioactive just because a guy talked to them. Why couldn’t I be normal? Stupid, no good, nothing girl.

  Rick stopped on the other side of the fence and smiled at me. All I could do was stare at my feet. I wished he would go away. If he stuck around, he would find out how dumb and stupid I was — just like Larry had. Thinking about this made my head pound even harder.

  “Maybe I’ll see you there,” Rick said.

  “Maybe.” I tried to think of something else to say, but my head hurt too much. Fortunately, Jujube started going into her house. As I turned to follow, my right foot stepped on my left and I almost tripped. Stupid, no good, nothing girl. My dad was right — I couldn’t even walk properly.