Dawn (6 page)

"You're probably the only one in the school who didn't," I said. "I was even called down to the principal's office and bawled out, even though it wasn't my fault."

"That doesn't surprise me. Mrs. Turnbell thinks she's a prison warden instead of a principal. That's why we call her Mrs. Turnkey."

"Turnkey?" I had to smile. It fit.

"And all this was my bratty sister's fault, huh?" He shook his head. "That figures, too."

"I've tried to make friends, apologize, but . . ." I glared at the girls. "They all turned on me when they found out what my father does."

"What's he do—rob banks?"

"He might as well for all they would care," I shot back. "Especially your sister."

"Forget her," Philip advised. "You can't let my sister get to you. She's a spoiled brat. She deserves whatever she gets. Where are you from?"

"Many places. Before Richmond, Granville, Virginia."

"Granville? I've never been there. Was it nice?"

"No," I said. He laughed, his teeth white and perfect. He looked at my bag and sandwich.

"A bag lunch?"

"Yes," I said, anticipating his ridicule, too. But he surprised me.

"What do you have?"

"Peanut butter and jelly."

"Looks a lot thicker than the peanut butter sandwiches they give you here. Maybe I’ll get you to bag me a lunch, too," he said. He looked serious about it for a moment, and then he laughed at my expression. "My sister is the biggest busybody here. She loves snooping in other people's business and then spreading rumors."

I studied him for a moment. Was he saying these things just to win my confidence or did he really mean it? I couldn't imagine Jimmy speaking so hatefully about me.

"What grade are you in?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Eleventh. I got my driver's license this year and my own car. How would you like to go for a ride with me after school?" he asked quickly.

"A ride?"

"Sure. I'll show you the sights," he added, winking.

"Thank you," I said. "But I can't."

"Why not? I'm a good driver," he pursued.

"I . . . have to meet my father after school."

"Well, maybe tomorrow, then. Hey," he said when I hesitated, searching for another excuse, "I'm perfectly harmless, no matter what you've heard."

"I haven't—" I broke off in confusion and felt my cheeks start to burn.

He laughed.

"You take everything so serious. Your parents gave you the right name. You're definitely as fresh as the birth of a new day," he said. I blushed even harder and looked down at my sandwich.

"So, do you stay in the dorms or live nearby?" he asked.

"I live on Ashland Street."

"Ashland? Don't know it. I'm not from Richmond, though. I'm from Virginia Beach."

"Oh, I've heard of it, but I've never been there. I heard it's very pretty there," I said and bit into my sandwich.

"It is. My family owns a hotel there: the Cutler's Cove Hotel, in Cutler's Cove, which is just a few miles south of Virginia Beach," he said sitting back proudly.

"You have a whole place named after your family?" I asked. No wonder Clara Sue was so swollen with her own importance, I thought.

"Yep. We've been there ever since the Indians gave it up. Or so my grandmother says."

"Your grandmother lives with you?" I asked enviously.

"She and my grandfather used to run the hotel. He died, but she still runs it with my parents. What does your father do, Dawn?"

"He works here," I said and thought, here I go again.

"Here? He's a teacher? And you let me say all those things about Mrs. Turnkey and”"

"No, no. He's a maintenance supervisor," I said quickly.

"Oh." Philip smiled and released a sigh of relief. "I'm glad of that," he said.

"You are?" I couldn't help sounding surprised.

"Yes. The two girls I know here whose fathers are teachers are the biggest snobs—Rebecca Clare Long-street and Stephanie Kay Sumpter. Ignore them at all costs," he advised.

Just then I saw Jimmy come in. He was walking all by himself. He stopped in the doorway and gazed around. When he saw me, he flashed a look of surprise at the sight of Philip as well. Then he headed quickly to my table. He slapped his bag on top and flopped into a seat.

"Hi," Philip said. "How's it going?"

"Stinks," Jimmy said. "Just got bawled out for putting my feet on the rung of the seat ahead of me. I thought she would keep me there right through lunch."

"Gotta watch that around here. If Mrs. Turnbell comes by and sees a student doing something like that, she bawls out the teacher first, and that makes the teacher get even madder," Philip explained.

"This is Philip Cutler," said Dawn. "Philip, my brother, Jimmy."

"Hi," Philip said, extending his hand. Jimmy looked at it suspiciously a moment and then shook quickly.

"What do they think this place is, gold?" Jimmy said, getting back to his problem.

"Did you make any friends yet, Jimmy?" I asked hopefully.

He shook his head.

"I gotta get my milk." He got up quickly and went to the lunch line. The boys in front of him looked nervous when he approached.

"Jimmy's not overjoyed about being here, I gather," Philip said, looking his way.

"No, he's not. Maybe he's right," I added. Philip smiled.

"You've got the clearest, prettiest eyes I've ever seen. The only one whose eyes come close is my mother."

I felt myself blush from my neck to my feet. I was absolutely beguiled by his flattering words, by the admiring look in his eyes. For a moment I couldn't speak. I had to shift my eyes away while I took another bite of my sandwich. I chewed quickly and swallowed, then turned back to him.

Some boys passing by said hello to him and then looked at me curiously. Finally two of his friends flopped down beside him.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your famous new friend, Philip?" asked a tall thin boy with peach-colored hair and brown eyes. He had a crooked smile that brought the corner of his mouth up.

"Not if I can help it," Philip said.

"Aw, come on. Philip likes to keep everything to himself," the tall boy told me. "Very selfish guy."

"My name's Dawn," I said quickly.

"Dawn. You mean like 'it dawned on me'?" He and his companion laughed hard.

"I'm Brandon," the tall boy finally said. "And this idiot beside me is Marshall." The shorter boy beside him only nodded. His eyes were very close together and he had his dark brown hair cut very short. He wore a smirk, rather than a smile. I recalled Momma once telling me never to trust anyone whose eyes were too close together. She said their mommas, just before giving birth, must have been surprised by snakes.

Jimmy returned and Philip introduced him to the other boys, but he sat quietly eating his sandwich. Philip was the only one who would talk to him, but Jimmy obviously didn't care. I saw from the way he looked at Marshall from time to time that he didn't like him much, either.

The bell rang to end the lunch period.

"Going to gym class?" Brandon asked Philip. "Or do you have other plans?" he added, gazing at me and smiling. I knew what he meant, but I tried to look like I didn't understand.

"I'll meet you," Philip said.

"Don't be late," Marshall quipped, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. The two boys went off, laughing.

"Where are you heading, Dawn?" Philip asked.

"Music."

"Good. I'll walk along with you. It's on the way to my gym class," he said. We started away from the table. When I looked to the side, I saw how Clara Sue and her friends were staring at us and whispering. They looked so hateful. Why? I wondered. Why did they have to be this way?

"Where's your next class, Jimmy?" I asked.

"I gotta go the other way," he said and scurried off before I could say a word. He elbowed his way through the crowd of students heading out the doors to the corridors and disappeared quickly.

"Have you been going to this school all your life?" I asked. Philip nodded. As we went along, I noticed many girls and boys nod and say hello to Philip. He was obviously very popular.

"My sister and I even attended the kindergarten associated with it." He leaned toward me. "My parents and my grandmother make sizable contributions to the school," he added, but he didn't sound arrogant about it. It was just a statement of fact.

"Oh." Everyone around me seemed so sophisticated and so wealthy. Jimmy had been right. We were like fish out of water. My daddy only worked here, and what would I wear tomorrow? What would Jimmy wear? If we stood out like sore thumbs now, what would happen tomorrow?

"We both better get a move on before we're thrown to Mrs. Turnkey," he said and smiled. "Think about going for a ride with me tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded. When I looked back, I saw Clara Sue and her friends walking slowly behind us. Clara Sue looked very unhappy about the attention her brother was giving me. Maybe he was sincere. He was so handsome and I felt like doing something to annoy her.

"I'll think about it," I said loud enough for the girls to hear.

"Great?' He squeezed my arm gently and walked off, turning once to smile back. I returned a smile, making sure Clara Sue could see, and then I entered the music suite just as the bell beginning the class rang.

My music teacher, Mr. Moore, was a rosy-faced man with dimples in his cheeks and hair as curly as Harpo Marx's. He had the sweetest disposition of any of my teachers I had met so far, and when he smiled, it was a smile full of warmth and sincerity. I saw that shy students shed their bashfulness when he coaxed them and willingly stood up to sing a few notes solo. He walked around the classroom with his tuning harmonica teaching us the scales, explaining notes, making music more interesting than even I imagined it could be. When he got to me, he paused and twitched his nose like a squirrel. His hazel brown eyes brightened.

"And now for a new voice," he said. "Dawn, can you sing Do re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do? give you a start," he began, bringing his harmonica to his lips, but I started before he had a chance to toot. His eyes widened and his bushy reddish-brown eyebrows lifted. "Well, now, a discovery. That's the best rendition of the scales cold I have heard in years," he said. "Wasn't that perfect, boys and girls?" he asked the class. When I looked around, I saw a sea of faces full of envy. Louise was especially jealous of the compliment Mr. Moore had given me. Her face was lime. "I think we might have found our solo singer for our next concert," Mr. Moore mused aloud, squeezing his round chin between his right forefinger and thumb as he looked at me and nodded. "Have you been in chorus before, Dawn?"

"Yes, sir."

"And do you play an instrument of any kind?" he inquired.

"I have been teaching myself the guitar."

"Teaching yourself?" He looked around the classroom. "Now, that's motivation, boys and girls. Well, we're going to have to see how far along you've come. If you're very good, you can put me out of a job," he said.

"I'm not very good, sir," I said.

He laughed, his cheeks trembling with his chuckles.

"There's something refreshing," he said, speaking to the rest of the class, "modesty. Ever wonder what that was, boys and girls?" He laughed at his own joke and went on with the day's lesson. When the bell ending the period rang, he asked me to remain a moment.

"Bring your guitar in with you tomorrow, Dawn. I'd like to hear you play," he said, his face serious and determined.

"I don't have a very good guitar, sir. It's second-hand and―"

"Now, now. Don't you be ashamed of it, and don't let any of the students here make you feel that way. I have an idea that it's a lot better than you think anyway. Besides, I can supply you with a very good guitar when the time comes."

"Thank you, sir," I said. He sat back in his seat and contemplated me a moment.

"I know the students are supposed to call their teachers sir and ma'am," he said. "But when we're working alone, could you manage to call me Mr. Moore?"

I smiled.

"I'll try."

"Good. I'm glad you're here, Dawn. Welcome to Emerson Peabody. Now you better hurry of to your next class."

"Thank you, Mr. Moore," I said and he smiled.

I started for my next class, but stopped when I saw Louise waiting for me.

"Hi," I said, seeing she wanted to be friends again. But that wasn't her first concern.

"I saw Philip Cutler sitting with you at lunch," she said, unable to hide the note of jealousy. "You'd better be careful. He's got a bad reputation with girls," she said, but her voice was still filled with envy.

"A bad reputation? He seems very nice. A lot different from his sister," I said pointedly. "What do they say that's so bad?"

"It's what he wants to do, even on a first date," she replied, her eyes big.

"What does he want to do?" I asked. She stepped back.

"What do you think?" She looked to the side to be sure no one could overhear. "He wants to go all the way."

"Did you go out with him?"

"No," she said, her eyes wide. "Never."

I shrugged.

"I don't think you should let people decide what you should and should not think about someone. You should decide for yourself. Besides, it's not fair to Philip," I added, his dazzling blue eyes still hovering in my thoughts.

Louise shook her head. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she advised.

"At least he didn't make me sit alone at lunch." My point, like an accurate arrow, hit the bull's eye.

"I'm sorry I left you . . . can we have lunch together tomorrow?" she asked.

"Probably," I said without sounding very definite about it. I was still feeling the scratches she and her catty friends had drawn across my heart. But that satisfied her enough to give me the benefit of another warning.

"If you think Clara Sue Cutler doesn't like you now, wait until she hears what Mr. Moore said."

"What do you mean?"

"She thinks she's going to sing the solo at the concert. She did last year," Louise said and punctured my balloon of happiness just as it was starting to inflate.