Free The Dolls by Kiki Sullivan Page B

embarrassed.
    “I’ve always wanted to go,” Caleb says a few seconds later, as if I haven’t just sounded like a rambling idiot. “To New York, I mean. It looks like it would be a pretty cool place. Millions of people. More restaurants than you could visit in a lifetime. Something for everyone.”
    I’m hit with a pang of longing. “You’d love it there.”
    “You miss it, I take it?”
    “I do. It’s home.”
    Caleb doesn’t reply right away. Finally, he turns to look at me. “I thought you’d be back in Carrefour sooner, to be honest.”
    The change of topic catches me off guard. “What do you mean? You knew who I was before I got here?”
    He half smiles at me but doesn’t elaborate. “Anyway, happy birthday,” he adds after a pause. “Seventeen’s the big one.”
    “Well, not as big as eighteen,” I say.
    “Not around here.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
    HarperCollins Publishers
    ..................................................................
8
    C aleb sits across the classroom and doesn’t acknowledge me once during the entire fifty-minute period. When the bell rings, he strides out without looking back, and by the time I make it into the hallway, he’s completely gone. I hate that this leaves me feeling so disappointed.
    I’m relieved to find Liv, the girl from this morning, saving a seat for me in physics, my last class.
    “How was your first day?” she asks as I sit down beside her.
    “Honestly? Kind of weird.”
    “That’s pretty much every day at Pointe Laveau. I found that out last year when I transferred from Carrefour Secondary. You might as well know I’m from the Périphérie.”
    “Cool. My friend Drew lives there too. Actually, I was just out there last night with him for a crawfish boil.”
    “Drew Grady? How do you know him?”
    “Our moms were friends when we were kids.”
    She stares at me oddly as the bell rings. The middle-aged, bespectacled Mr. Cronin welcomes me to class and launches into a lecture about action and reaction. When he finishes and assigns us to review chapters six and seven with a partner, Liv and I resume our conversation.
    “I’m sorry, you said you went to the Périphérie last night?” Liv asks.
    “Right,” I say. I don’t get why she’s reacting like I’ve told her I went to Mars.
    “But you live on this side of town, don’t you?”
    “Yes,” I say slowly.
    “It’s just that usually people from this side of town don’t spend much time on the other side of the bayou.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, Drew’s a cool guy. Did he tell you about his band?”
    “I think I heard the term ‘bayou fusion rock’ fifty times last night.”
    She smiles. “He’s a little obsessed. He kind of considers music his ticket out of this town. I’ve got to say, I think he’s kind of onto something.”
    “His band’s good?”
    “They’re awesome. I’m planning to go to school for music production someday, and I think it would be pretty cool to work with a group like that.” She pauses. “Anyway, I know how you must feel, being new and all. I started at the beginning of sophomore year, and it was like no one wanted anything to do with me. Newcomers aren’t exactly welcomed with open arms.”
    “I’m noticing that,” I tell her. “So how did you wind up here?”
    “The kid with the scholarship before me flunked out. When the spot was offered to me, my dad wouldn’t even listen.” Her tone is bitter, but only a little. “Switching to this school, it’s like crossing a line. People expect you to be different, so it’s harder to hang out with everyone back home. But I don’t fit at Pointe Laveau because I’m from the Périphérie.”
    “People really judge you for that?” I ask.
    She looks at me like I’m nuts. “Dude, it’s the poor side of town. That means everything in this place.” She pauses. “So what brought you to Carrefour anyhow? We never get new people.”
    “I’m not exactly new.” I tell her what