~Chapter 3~

Wednesday

THE VOICE WAS MUSICAL AND sounded like chimes tingling gently in the wind. “Rose, Rose! Over here!” It called.

I whipped around. No one was there. I looked left and right. No one. I looked down at the concrete and up to the sky. No one.

“Ew, get away!” Michelle shouted, waving her head wildly at a flying bug. “Annoying bug,” Michelle murmured. We walked the rest of the way. By the time I got home, I was quite convinced I just made the voice up. After all, it didn’t sound like Michelle or Ricky heard it either.

I closed the door quietly behind me and walked to the kitchen. On the island, there stood a plate full of apple wedges. Kara was standing behind them scribbling something down on a notepad.

“Hey, Michelle, Ricky and Rose!” Kara said enthusiastically, waving her free arm. She put the notepad and pen down and looked up at us.

“Kara!” Michelle replied, running to her. Michelle and Kara have also been very close to each other. Actually, Michelle has been very close to everyone. She wrapped her petite arms around Kara’s waist and hugged her tightly.

“How was your first day of school?” Kara asked kindly, pushing the plate closer to us.

Michelle immediately let go one of her arms and snatched an apple. “It was fantastic! Wasn’t it, Ricky?” She said through a mouthful of apples.

Ricky just nodded and shoved an apple slice into his mouth.

“How was your’s, Rose?”

I froze with my hand wrapped around an apple, inches from my mouth. I swallowed and put the apple down. How was I supposed to answer? Tell the truth? Or lie? Telling the truth would obviously be better—Kara could help me. But I didn’t want to say it in front of Michelle and Ricky. Kara stared at me, her elegant face screwed up in a confused expression.

“Um, it was…okay.” This wasn’t exactly a lie, and it was partly true. My day wasn’t that bad. I saw Kara’s eyes flicker with confusion before she understood. She nodded once and I knew she would give me some advice when we had time.

I didn’t hear the voice anymore the rest of the day and I was sure I made it up. I walked downstairs to Kara’s room after I put a book cover over each textbook. She told me not to worry and that first days were always the worst. She also advised me to not be self-conscious and be myself. I thanked her and walked upstairs to write a first draft for my essay.

Mrs. Mann told us we could do it on anything and I chose the Civil War. To me, that was the only interesting thing I ever learned in history. I was researching the end of the war when I heard the garage door open. There was a loud bang that followed and I knew my mom was home.

She checked on Michelle and Ricky’s homework first, to make sure they knew what they were doing. She was clanging around in the kitchen when I walked downstairs.

“Hey, Rose. How was school?” She asked as she stirred some soup. She put the spoon down and wiped her hands on the white apron she was wearing and walked over by me.

I didn’t reply to her question and just asked, “Can I help you with anything?”

“Yes, you can. But first, I want to know how school went.” This was how my mom was. If I didn’t tell her about something, she would just keep asking me about it until I answered.

“It was okay.” There was nothing else to say.

“Just okay?” She seemed surprised by my answer. Maybe she expected school to go better for me, although it never did, not even when we lived in Kansas.

“Just okay.” I answered. “So, what can I help you with?” I asked in a lighter tone.

“Um, well…the vegetables need to be cut and the meat needs to be seasoned. You sure you’re okay?” She eyed me anxiously and I nodded quickly.

“You don’t look so well to me.” I assured her it was nothing and she said, “Okay, well wash your hands and get started. Dad will be home soon.”

I washed my hands thoroughly and then started on the veggies. I wasn’t really concentrating on cutting, I was mostly just letting my thoughts float around and think about random things. Most of these things I thought about had something to do with school. Like bullies—and how I hadn’t bumped into any yet—, buses—and that horrible smell; I shivered at the thought—history, math, stuff like that.

I was thinking quite absent-mindedly too, so I didn’t realize I wasn’t moving my hand until I felt a stinging in my left index finger. I held it up to the light to examine the cut. It wasn’t very deep or long, it just hurt a lot, like a paper cut.

Mom almost dropped her knife when I walked past her to get a Band-Aid. Luckily, it didn’t fly out of her hand. I cleaned it up and stuck a Care Bears Band-Aid on it. Unfortunately, Michelle only used Care Bears Band-Aids and mom always thinks it’s unnecessary to buy more than one pack at a time.

My mom, Nancy, stopped letting me help her so I just started playing piano. I was the only one who played piano. David played guitar and Kara plays the flute. I also swim every day, but this week, my swim team was taking a break. I just started a Mozart Sonatina when the garage door opened again.

“It’s dad, it’s dad!” Michelle shouted, running to the garage door. One of the things I loved about Michelle was that if you were gone even for half-an-hour, she would still welcome you back like you’ve been gone for half a day.

“Michelle-bear!” My dad’s gruff voice boomed through the house as he bent down to pick her up. “Michelle-bear” is Michelle’s favorite nickname and only my dad, Henry Walkman, gets to use it. “How was your first day of school, sweet pea?” He asked in a gushy voice. I continued playing, so it wouldn’t sound like I was eavesdropping.

“It was great, daddy! Ricky and I got to sit next to each other!”

“Oh, really? Well, make sure Mr. Ricky doesn’t talk too much.”

“He didn’t, daddy.” She smiled and my dad put her down.

“Ricky Mickey!” My dad always made up nicknames for everyone—everyone that is, except for me. He called me Rosalie. My mom said it was because he picked the name for me and liked the name Rosalie, not Rose. “How was your day?” He asked, bending down so his face was level with Ricky’s.

“Horrible.” Typical Ricky. Even though it was only one tiny thing, it mattered a huge amount to him.

My dad frowned. “Why horrible?”

“They didn’t let me into chess club.” Ricky crossed his arms in front of his chest. “It’s not fair!”

“It’s okay, Rick, we can make our own chess club. You can be president. Why don’t we start tomorrow evening? Get everything set up, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll do it right after dinner!”

“Wait!” I shouted. “Do I have to join too?”

“Of course you do, Rosalie.” My dad answered.

“But I suck at chess! I suck.” I put a huge emphasis on “suck”.

“But Ricky here will teach you how to not suck. Right, Rick?”

Ricky nodded his head excitedly. “We can start right after school tomorrow!”

“After homework,” My dad corrected.

“After homework.” Ricky agreed.

Dad stood up then, and walked over to me.

“Well, enough about chess. How was your day Rosalie?” He asked me.

“It was okay.” The same reply I gave to everyone.

“Oh,” was all he could say. He shrugged and walked to the kitchen to say hi to mom and Kara. I went back to the piano and started on that Mozart piece.

Dinner was finished a couple minutes after that, and I didn’t talk much. I just chewed, swallowed, and listened. Simple enough. It was working perfectly well until mom asked for details on my day. I simply shrugged and told her how the bus ride was fast—I left out the bumpy part—and how my teachers just lectured about nonsense—to me. Mom didn’t ask about my day anymore and I was happy about that.

After dinner, I helped wash the dishes before I started on Ricky’s cookies. I didn’t realize the batter made fifteen cookies, so I placed them too close to each other and most of them stuck together to become one big cookie. Ricky didn’t seem so upset about it, though.

While he was eating, I went upstairs to revise my essay. I had a lot of work to do. I even spelled Abraham Lincoln’s name wrong once! I finished revising and before I knew it, it was bedtime.