Ruby Reinvented (4 page)

“What is it, Bea?” Ellie asks again, pieces of her gray hair falling out of her bun.

“Well,” Mom begins. “It seems Ruby is interested in attending a boarding school in Maine.”

“Maine?” Ellie asks. “So far away, Bea?”

“I want to experience new things,” I say in my most grown-up voice.

“I see,” Ellie says, smoothing her bun with her hands.

“Ellie, would it be too much to ask of you to visit the school with Ruby? Zack has three games on the road, and I'm in the middle of a ten-city audition tour for the show. Ruby is very anxious to learn more about this place.” Mom is talking to Ellie but looking at me, her eyebrows furrowed yet again.

“Of course, Ms. Celestine,” Ellie says. “Of course I will go with her.”

I jump up and down and throw my arms around Ellie. “Thank you! Thank you!”

“Can you ask Kathy to make the call and set up the visit?” Mom asks Ellie.

Ellie jots something down in a notebook she pulls out of her pocket and goes back inside. Mom and Dad are staring at me.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Bea?” Dad asks.

“I'm sure.” I nod so hard I think my head might fall off.

“Okay,” Dad says. “But if you like it, and if Ellie gives
us the thumbs-up, there will be some rules you'll have to follow.”

“Anything,” I say.

“You'll have to keep up with your grades,” Mom says. “And FaceTime us every night, same as now.”

“Of course,” I say. “Of course I will.”

“And one more thing.” Dad's lips form a straight, thin line. “Don't come home talking funny. Remember to say your
r
's.”

I stare at him blankly, and he cracks up. I laugh too, even though I have no idea why.

Ellie opens the door to the deck and steps outside, notebook in hand. “We're all set, Bea. We leave tomorrow afternoon, and we'll tour the school on Friday.”

I bounce up and down for at least a minute, hug my parents, then Ellie, then my parents again—then fly upstairs to my room to pack.

 5 

J
IMMY BRINGS US to the Airport. Mom and Dad join us for the ride, and we have a family good-bye hug on the sidewalk outside the terminal. It has to be quick before someone recognizes us.

There are no tears. This is normal for my family. A series of comings and goings. Even when I used to go on the road with them, we didn't spend much time together. They were busy, and I hung out with Ellie. They probably would have rathered Ellie and I stayed home, but I insisted on going with them. It wasn't until I started middle school that I decided I wanted to go to school instead of being tutored on the road.

Ellie and I board our plane and settle into our first-class seats. Ellie orders a glass of wine the minute we sit down, like she does every time we fly. I must have fallen asleep
immediately, because the next thing I realize, I'm waking up to the sound of the captain's voice.

“We have begun our initial descent into the Portland area, and will be arriving at the Portland International Jetport in approximately twenty minutes. Please make sure your seat belts are fastened, your seats are in their upright position, and your tray tables are secured. It's been a pleasure having you on board today. Thank you for flying with us.”

“That was fast,” I say through a yawn.

“For you, maybe.” Ellie's hands are gripping the seat rests. Even though she flies with us all the time, she hates it.

I laugh. “Relax, Ellie. We're almost there.”

“I will relax when we are on the ground, like human beings belong.” She squeezes her eyes shut.

I stretch and look out the window. It's dark, but I can see that we're getting close to landing. I hear a few dings, and Ellie grabs my hand. Her fingernails are digging into my skin, but I don't say anything. She's doing me a huge favor by taking me here, and I don't want her to feel bad—even though she's leaving crescent-shaped dents in my hand. She loosens her grip when we land and breathes a big sigh of relief as we taxi down the runway.

We're the first ones off the plane, and it's a short walk to the baggage area. There's a driver holding a sign with Ellie's name on it. We always use Ellie's name when we travel because we can't ever use ours. As if it would matter.
My parents are instantly recognizable, even without a sign.

The driver helps us with our bags and takes us to his car, a stretch limo.

I groan.

“Please tell me we're not going to take this to the school tomorrow.”

“You don't like it, Bea? Such a beautiful car.”

“It's not that.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “I just don't think that most of the kids who go to Midcoast Academy ride in limos.”

“Mmmm.” Ellie nods her head. “I see.”

“I just don't want to seem too weird.”

Ellie's still nodding. Even though she doesn't say anything I feel like I should keep talking.

“It's not like at home, Ellie. These kids are normal. Normal kids don't ride to school in limos.”

“You want to be normal, Bea?”

I look down at my hands. “Sometimes.”

“Mmmm.” Ellie nods again. “But remember to be proud of who you are.”

As much as I love Ellie, she doesn't understand. I've grown up hearing the stories of her childhood in Russia. She grew up poor, with eight brothers and sisters in a tiny house. Her mother died when she was five years old, and her father was really mean. She's always telling me how
lucky I am to have parents who love me and can afford to give me nice things.

The car ride is taking forever. I'm not sure if I can't sleep because I slept on the plane or because it feels like there are a million butterflies in my stomach. I stare out the window, amazed that I see nothing but darkness. No streetlights, no cities. I don't even see any other cars on the road.

I'm definitely not in Los Angeles anymore.

The car slows down and pulls into the driveway of what looks like a gigantic house.

“Did we rent a house?” I squint out the window.

“This is a bed-and-breakfast,” Ellie explains. “Only a few blocks from the school.”

“You mean we could walk there?” I practically squeal since that means I won't have to show up in a stretch limo.

“I suppose so. Let us see what the weather is like tomorrow.”

I'm not sure what the big deal is until I get out of the car. The wind cuts through my jacket and bites my skin. Nope. This is definitely
not
LA.

Ellie checks us into the bed-and-breakfast, which is toasty warm thanks to a big stone fireplace in the middle of the house.

A woman with short gray hair takes us up to our rooms.

“So you're here to look at Midcoast Academy?” she says,
even though it sounds like she says
So you a heeya to look at Midcoast Academy?

“Yes,” I answer politely. “We're going to tour the school tomorrow.”

“Well isn't that nice.” She pulls a key off a giant key ring and unlocks the door. “The school is wonderful.” Which sounds like
wondah-full
.

My room is attached to Ellie's, with a bathroom in between. Ellie's room is decorated in moose paraphernalia. There's a lamp with a moose base, framed pictures of moose on the wall, and a red bedspread with moose in different poses. My room is a sea theme, with pictures of lobsters, starfish, and sailboats lining the walls.

I glance at the clock on the wall, which has lighthouses where the numbers should be. It's almost midnight, and we have to be at school at eight thirty. I yawn. After a quick shower, I pull on the warmest nightgown I own, white flannel with pink tulips, and crawl into bed.

The next thing I know, Ellie is knocking on my door.

“Bea, time to get up, sweetheart.”

I open my eyes, barely, blinking until I get used to the light.

“Okay, okay. I'm up.” I throw the blankets off me and stretch my arms above my head. I manage to get myself into a seated position and rub my eyes.

“You have half an hour to get ready,” Ellie says.

I drag myself out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. My hair's
way too curly and crazy for a comb, so I add some gel and fluff it up with my fingers. I have no idea what kids wear at Midcoast Academy, so I play it safe with a pair of jeans and a bright orange hoodie with shiny silver zippers up the sleeves. The jeans show that I'm approachable, while the hoodie makes the look uniquely “me.” I add the ruby necklace my parents gave me, then brush my lips with the strawberry lip gloss that Sophie got me for my birthday. Even though Sophie's a horrible friend, at least she has excellent taste in lip gloss.

Ellie and I find breakfast waiting for us in the formal dining room. My stomach gets more gurgly by the minute, but I manage to stuff my face with the most mouthwatering blueberry pancakes I've ever tasted.

Thank goodness Ellie decides the weather's decent enough to walk to the school. The air is super cold, but the sky is bright blue and sunny.

“Button up your coat,” Ellie says as we step onto the sidewalk. “It's cold here in Maine.”

I breathe in deeply. When I let it out, I can see my breath. “I think it's refreshing.”

Ellie chuckles. “You have a young person's bones.”

We follow the sidewalk as it passes by Victorian houses with giant front porches. Most of the trees are still bare, but there are
tons
of them. I recognize the pines and oaks and maples from my science class. Huge evergreens line the
yards. I take a deep breath—it smells like Christmas—and there's not a palm tree in sight.

Soon the houses disappear and are replaced by little shops. We pass a chocolate store, a coffee shop, a bookstore, too many restaurants to count, and about three ice cream places. I'm in love already.

And just when I think things couldn't get any better, we turn the corner and find ourselves in front of a quaint park overlooking a marina crowded with boats of all shapes and sizes. The water beyond glimmers like diamonds. Sure, we have tons of marinas in Southern California, but this is different somehow—like an old-fashioned painting. There's nothing old-fashioned back home.

The wind whips at my hair so it stands straight up, and I pull my hood onto my head. Ellie is wearing a wool hat, scarf, and gloves, and she's still complaining about the cold. I think Ellie's been in Southern California too long.

I see the sign before she does. The gold letters glisten in the sunlight.
MIDCOAST ACADEMY.

“We're here, Ellie, we're here!” I jump up and down and pull her arm so she'll walk faster.

I practically skip down the sidewalk as Ellie shuffles along behind me. The campus is made up of what looks like a bunch of big houses with winding pathways between them. Kids with backpacks stroll along the pathways, talking and laughing. I spot a building that says
MAIN OFFICE
above the door. I glance back at Ellie, and she nods for me to go inside.

A tall lady with bright red hair peeks up from behind a desk in an office to our right and stands when she sees us.

“Hello.” She walks over and extends her hand, which I shake politely. “You must be Ruby.”

“Hello,” I say.

“I'm Mrs. Kearney,” she says. “I'm the admissions director here at Midcoast.”

I think it's funny that Mrs. Kearney is dressed in a fancy business suit, but she has purple duck boots on her feet. Nobody in Hollywood wears purple duck boots, and I decide right then and there that I must get a pair.

“Come sit down.” She ushers us into the office she just came out of and closes the door behind her. “Can I get you some coffee, tea?”

I almost agree to coffee when I notice she's looking at Ellie and not me. I wonder if kids around here don't drink coffee.

“How about you, Ruby? Would you like some water, or hot chocolate?”

There's my answer.

“No thank you,” I say, deciding not to ask for coffee.