Authors: E. Latimer
Frost (2 page)
Lunch period was interesting. There was no cafeteria at Grande Prairie High; it was too small. Instead, everyone ate near their lockers or lounged on the benches at the end of the hallway. Some of the older students went out for lunch, and I watched them file out with a pang of envy. "Are we not allowed to leave the campus?"
Charlotte leaned halfway into her locker, pushing books and papers around. "Not till we're in grade twelve." She straightened up, holding a lunch bag with pictures of penguins on it, pulling a crushed sandwich out. "Nice. Peanut butter and jelly."
After I put my books in my assigned locker we sat on one of the benches at the end of the hallway, and I took the opportunity to further examine my new classmates. In spite of how small the school was, it still managed a noticeable clique. There was everyone else, and there was
them.
Five girls, all tall and blonde and gorgeous, all talking loudly to one another. One of them was Amy, the girl whose make-out session I’d interrupted earlier. The bizarre thing was that each girl was Amy's height or taller, and they all had perfect, pale skin and the same color white-blond hair.
"What the
hell?
" I muttered. "Are they related?"
Charlotte glanced up from her sandwich and smirked. "What, the Barbie Girls?"
"The what?"
"You know. Malibu Barbie, Hot-Yoga Barbie, Library Barbie, and...I haven't figured out names for the other two." Charlotte gestured at the little clique with one half of her sandwich. "I was thinking Kiss-Your-Boyfriend Barbie for Amy, but it's not as catchy as the rest."
I blinked at her, half amused, half horrified. If those girls heard her talking like that, they'd probably make her life miserable. I'd seen it happen back home. It could get ugly.
Down the hall, Amy was looking straight at me. She waved, and the girls around her stared. I couldn't help feeling a little alarmed. At the same time, I was running through the Barbie names in my head, and I had to fight the urge to laugh.
Sure enough, there was one wearing a tight, white T-shirt, which contrasted sharply with her orange-tan skin—the Malibu girl. The girl next to her was a little taller, in an understated dress shirt and black-framed glasses. She was the librarian one, then. The third was in yoga pants and a cropped sweater that fell off one shoulder. Yoga Barbie all over. The remaining girl was the tallest, and she kept her eyes on the floor. The rest of them stared at Amy, as if waiting for some kind of prompt.
Charlotte turned to me, her eyes narrow. "Crap, I should have known."
"What?"
"You
look
like them." She gave me a wide-eyed look of warning. "They're coming for you."
"Come on. That’s insulting. I
so
do not look like fake-tan girl.” I laughed, but when I looked up, Amy and her group were already approaching. "Shit," I mumbled. "You weren't joking."
They stopped and observed me coolly, and I observed them back—equally coolly, I hoped. The resemblance was strange though. The five of them could have been sisters.
"Hi," Amy said. "Megan, meet my friends: Margaret, Stacy, Alicia, and Becca."
"Hi.” There was no way I was going to keep their names straight. "Nice to meet you."
The four girls behind Amy nodded, and the tallest one on the right gave me a shy smile. I was fairly certain she was Becca, since she was standing on the end.
"We're going to the coffee shop down the street after school. We'd like you to join us." Amy arched one perfect, pale eyebrow at Charlotte. "You can come too, if you’d like."
Charlotte only nodded.
"Uh," I mumbled. "Sure, okay. Sounds good."
Amy turned, and her friends followed her back down the hallway, Becca giving me another small smile before she went.
"Well, that was weird," I said.
Charlotte's brown eyes were round. "They asked me to come. This is, like, the first time they’ve even talked to me."
I glanced over at my new friend, feeling a little worried. It didn’t seem like Amy was really the sincere type. Maybe she'd somehow heard us talking and this was some kind of “mean girl” prank.
"I dunno. Maybe we shouldn't go. They seem...weird."
Charlotte laughed. "Well, they obviously want to be friends with you. I better go with you to make sure they don't make you a member of their weird Barbie cult." She took a bite of her sandwich, darting a look down the hall.
"It would be cool if you came." I was already nervous. "For starters, they didn't even tell me what coffee shop they're going to.”
"Oh, that'll be Fevero," Charlotte said, around a mouthful of peanut butter. "It's the one they always go to after school. It's the trendiest one in town."
I tried not to look amused. "Sounds great."
We both went quiet for a moment, and I snatched my sandwich off the bench and started unwrapping it. It wasn’t like I was really that hungry, but it gave my hands something to do. I was strangely nervous about meeting with Amy after school.
"What's California like?" Charlotte said eagerly. "It must be warm all the time."
I sighed, wishing I could banish all thoughts of sun-kissed beaches and clear, blue skies. "Yup, it's warm."
"So, why did you get hauled out here?"
I wasn’t going to tell her the real reason. It probably would have sent my one and only friend screaming out into the snowy countryside. "My uncle got a job," I said. "The pay is way better."
"Right." Charlotte nodded and stared down at her crumpled lunch bag. "That sucks. I moved here from Vancouver. It was still sort of cold there, but nothing like here."
"Here sucks."
The Barbie Girls were sitting at the back of the room, taking up a booth beside the gas fireplace. Amy waved as we came in. To her credit, she included Charlotte in the greeting.
"Hey, girls. Come have a seat."
I slid onto the white, plastic bench and found myself sandwiched between Becca and Charlotte.
"Hi,” I said. This was already super awkward.
"So..." Amy folded her hands on the tabletop and leaned forward like she was interviewing me. "You just moved here?"
"Yup." Was I about to be inducted into some weirdo Ya-Ya Secret Pants Club? Maybe they had some kind of creepy sorority.
"Your parents. Let's see... Foster parents, adoptive parents, uncles or aunts?"
I blinked. "Uncle and aunt.”
Charlotte’s eyes went wide. “I’m adopted. How did you guys know that?”
Amy gestured at the other girls. "We're all the same. I was adopted. Margaret too. Stacy has foster parents, and Alicia lives with an uncle."
My palms were starting to get sweaty. "I don't get it."
She shrugged, studying me with blue eyes that had been heavily outlined with black liner. "We're just trying to figure out the connection here."
Confusion and the beginnings of panic fluttered in my belly. Things I didn’t understand kept happening. Like when Uncle Dave had taken it into his head to move in under a week, or when I’d frozen a boy just by kissing him.
I pushed the memory back down, determined not to think about it.
“I moved here two years ago.” Amy set her coffee mug down and placed her palms on the table. “Shortly after that, Margaret did, and then Becca. Then Stacy and Alicia. Most of our guardians happened to get that big raise they’d hoped for, providing they moved to the ends of the Earth. All of us ended up at Grande Prairie High. How does that happen?"
I gave her a blank look. "Coincidence? What are you saying?"
“Why don’t you tell me?” Amy shrugged, almost too casual.
I sat back in my seat, a little alarmed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
One of the girls—Margaret, I think—gave Amy an even look before turning back to me. "It's no coincidence that we look like we could be related. Come on. I'm six feet tall, and I reached this height by the time I was fourteen. I thought I would never meet a girl as tall as I am." She glanced over at Becca. "Then I met her. She's
taller
."
Becca's cheeks flushed, and she nodded. She didn't seem to talk much.
Amy spread her hands as if I couldn't possibly disagree with her reasoning. "See? What are the chances of all of us ending up here? It just doesn't make sense." She glanced over at Charlotte. "Even you, as much as you might think we don’t notice you. I mean, you're super short, but your features are similar. Blond hair, pale skin..."
Charlotte glared at her. "I've been going to school with you for two years and you haven't so much as
spoken
to me until now."
Amy shrugged. "You may or may not be one of us."
"Well,
thanks
." Charlotte sounded scornful, but she was also fidgeting in her seat like she was barely containing her excitement. "One of what, exactly?"
"Whatever we are." Amy gestured at all of us. "We have to stick together. I think maybe we
are
related."
Right
. And maybe I was having coffee with a crazy person. "Then how did we all end up here? Where's the logic in that one? Someone magicked up a bunch of jobs to bring us out here?"
"Maybe our real parents." Margaret leaned forward, her eyes shining. "Maybe they're going to meet with us."
"This all sounds creepy." I slid sideways, nudging Charlotte. That familiar feeling was fluttering in my chest again. Things were happening too fast, getting too weird. I had to get out. “Listen, Dave is picking me up in five minutes. I have to walk back to the school."
Amy nodded, still cool and in charge. It didn't seem to bother her that I thought she was crazy. "All right. We'll see you tomorrow."
Charlotte stood up, letting me slide out of the booth. "I'll walk over with you."
We said our goodbyes and walked back to the school, our shoulders hunched against the cold.
"What did you think of that?" Charlotte asked, her teeth chattering.
"Weird," I muttered. "I don't know what I think. Maybe they're pulling a fast one on us. It does seem like something that Amy girl would do."
"I could see that," Charlotte admitted. She waved as a beat up minivan rumbled into the lot, exhaust pumping out into the crisp air. "There's my dad. I'll see you tomorrow."
I watched as Charlotte climbed in, sliding over sticky looking vinyl seats, and I waved to her as the van drove away. All the while my thoughts buzzed frantically, going over everything Amy had said.
Things were still just as weird. Apparently moving here hadn’t solved anything.