I couldn't help thinking about Ethan on the drive home. He'd seemed like a nice guy (hot helped too), and Mr. Charles said he was a good kid, so on what grounds could all of Cheshire not like him?
To ask him point-blank would be awful. Hey, Ethan! Why does Cheshire hate you? No, I couldn't do that. And I didn't want to ask around. What if he found out about that and decided I was like everyone else? What if he believed that I was fueled by gossip and judgmental tendencies?
I didn't want to be like everyone else. Was that so wrong?
Maybe in a town like Cheshire it was.
I spent half of dinner wondering whether I should bring up the Walkers and discuss them. And when I did, she laughed. Mom was above all the small-town narrow-mindedness, and I thought I was too. Her laughing at me made me think twice.
"I actually ran into Mrs. Walker around lunch today," she said. "After writing for three straight hours, I went out for a quick jog. They live just down the street."
I nodded. "And…?"
"We got to talking. Well—I did the talking. She kept looking around like she was afraid someone would see us. I thought I was the problem, but I guess it was the other way around…."
"What'd you talk about?"
She gave me a 'look.'
"I'm just curious. Is that a crime now?"
"It'd be better if you didn't get involved in gossip. You never told me how your day went."
"Just watch Mean Girls again. You'll get it."
"So you have cool artsy friends?"
"I wish. I think I can count one friend… maybe two."
"Who's the first?"
"Charlie Jones."
She grew serious. "And where did you meet this 'Charlie Jones'?"
"In the administration office. She'd gotten into a fight." Or started it, but the look on Mom's face suggested I leave that part out. I should've left the whole fight out.
"Wait—first, Charlie's a girl?" I nodded. "And you say she was in a fight?" I nodded again. "Bella, I said to make friends, but I think you—"
"Charlie wasn't the bad guy. Cynthia Connor was."
"Oh…." It was safe to say Mom knew who that was. "Well, if this fighting thing isn't a weekly or monthly occurrence, I see no harm in your friendship with her. At least she has good taste. But just be careful. I know loyalty is important, but try to avoid physical altercations. So, who's the second?"
"… Ethan Walker."
Mom smiled. "Do you like this Ethan Walker?"
"No…. I mean, I think he's nice, that's all."
She raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know what you're implying."
"I was thinking in the 'boyfriend' area."
"Well, I wasn't thinking in the 'boyfriend' area." Though I didn't reject the idea. "But Cynthia pointed out to me that everyone avoids the Walkers, but she didn't explain why."
"Did you ask him?"
"I can't do that. It's rude."
"Last time I checked you didn't care about being rude."
"I may not like most of the people here, but I'm not going to feed them something to hate me with. Ethan was pretty nice to me." Pretty to look at too. "And if we become friends I don't want drama hanging over us like a stuck-up cloud."
"Wow. Only you could become friends with the only two outcasts in Cheshire."
"Is that good or bad?"
Mom played with her vegetables. "I don't know. Only time will tell."
*
While I got ready for bed, I was waiting for Mom to turn on the heater. The house was big and old, but Mom had been assured that the heating and cooling system worked perfectly—so why was everything cold?
Instead of getting into bed, I went out into the hallway to see what was up.
Yeah, it was still a little scary at night, so I moved pretty quickly and knocked on her door before walking in.
She was in bed, on her laptop. "What?"
"Can I turn on the heater?" By the time I'd asked, though, I could feel that her room was noticeably warmer than mine, but not by much. "I think something's wrong with my vents. It's cold in my room."
Mom set her laptop aside and got up. "Just when I was comfortable… sweetie." She patted my head as she left her room.
She walked into the middle of my room, around my bed, a confused look on her face. "I've had the heater on for the past half hour. It's just as warm in here as my room."
"What? No it isn't. Look at my arm." My goosebumps had returned by then.
She frowned before putting a hand on my head. "You're not getting sick, are you?"
"I feel fine. It's just cold in here."
"The heating isn't the problem. It must be you. Are you sure you're feeling okay? Cold? Flu?"
"Nothing's wrong. I feel fine."
Mom still wasn't reassured. "Maybe we should see a doctor. We're supposed to anyway, seeing as how our insurance already kicked in."
"Do we have to see the doctors here?" There were only two: one for kids and the other for adults. If everyone was gossip-hungry, I wondered if that breached doctor-patient confidentiality.
"Well, I believe you if you're feeling okay. But if this cold business persists, I'm making an appointment. Keep using the extra blankets. Do you need others?"
"No, I think they're good enough."
"Okay, then." She kissed my forehead, wiping off the Chapstick. "I'm only keeping the heating on for a few more minutes or I'll roast. There're more blankets in the first linen closet near the stairs. Goodnight, sweetie." She closed the door behind her.
I sighed, continuing to arrange my blankets, which were heavy and bulky. It was bad enough that I already disliked cold weather. Maybe I did have the flu or something, but I felt completely fine! Being sick was the worst, and I was a demanding monster whenever I was sick.
By the time I was all set, I wasn't sleepy anymore. So, lying in my three heavy blankets and still feeling a chill, I got my phone and went on Facebook.
My 'friends' seemed to be doing just fine without me. No messages to me whatsoever as they did school activities and hung out at the mall like we used to. I unFriended them. They weren't going to notice. They seemed completely fine cutting me out, so I cut them out.
I found Charlie Jones on there, surprisingly enough. I sent her a Friend Request.