My Cousin's Keeper (3 page)

They arrived in a rush, and it seemed that a private conversation hadn't quite been finished, because the mom was whispering something to the new girl, who looked annoyed and embarrassed. The two of them went to the reception desk, and I heard Mrs. Reilly, who ran the office, ask, “Yes, how can I help you?”

It was the girl who began to answer first. “I'd like to enroll, please —”

Her mom interrupted her. “I'd like to enroll my daughter, please.”

I stopped rummaging and turned around. The girl had spoken as though she could hardly wait to be in a classroom full of kids she'd never met. The mom had sounded as if this were the very last place she wanted to be, and the sunglasses she wore didn't exactly make her look friendly. I realized that I was probably staring and went back to my clothing search, as the mom and girl sat down on the seats beside the front door. I could hear paper being rustled and the busy scratching of a pen on a page. I heard the mom say in a whispered hiss, “I'm
not
happy about this.”

“Well, I am,” the girl replied quietly. “It's nearly the happiest day of my life.”

I found one, but not both, of my sister's lost sweaters, and I was about to go back out to the playground to find Gina when Mrs. Reilly called to me. “Kieran Beck, just the person. This is Julia, and she'll be joining Miss McLennan's class. Can you take her outside and show her where her classroom is?”

The girl's good-bye to her mom was short and strange. “See you.”

Her mom's arms were folded, and she had not once taken off her sunglasses. “Yes,” she replied in a tight voice, before walking straight outside and down the path that led to the street.

“This way,” I said to the new girl, shaking off my surprise at how things could be for other kids and their parents. “I'll show you where you can leave your bag. The bell won't go off until five to nine. I'm in Mr. Garcia's class. Your room is right next to ours —” I stopped then, thinking that I might sound too weirdly friendly.

We walked onto the playground before she spoke. “Kieran,” she said. “So
you're
Kieran.”

“Yes,” I replied, shrugging it off, “that's me.”

“Kieran,” she repeated, more to herself than to me.

I let myself look at her properly. The new girl was tall and wore jeans, a checked shirt, and riding boots instead of a school uniform. Her blond hair was unusual, long in the front and cut into a short upward curve in the back. When she turned and I could see her pale-blue eyes clearly, it was as though she had traveled from somewhere foreign and quite different from our town and this school. Afterward, as we lined up for morning class, she seemed to be looking at each of us in turn. It was not in the worried way that some new kids did, but with a confidence I found fascinating and different. If she heard Mason and Lucas talking their usual silly stuff, she took no notice. It was the same with the girls in the lines close to mine. I could see them staring at the new girl and whispering comments to one another. Someone laughed loudly. I thought that Julia seemed to already know us all — the boys who could bully anyone who seemed the tiniest bit different, the girls whose friendships could turn mean and unpredictable, and the rest of us who filled the classrooms and playground.

I wondered how long it would take for the competition to start, where everyone wanted to be her new best friend.

But there was someone else new. They had also been put into Miss McLennan's class, so at morning assembly time two unfamiliar kids were standing just a little in front of our class. The comments, whispering, and laughter began again.

“Hey, there's another new girl.”

“No, it's not; it's a boy.”

“It's a girl, idiot. She's got a braid.”

“Well, how come she's wearing a boy's top?”

I couldn't tell right away, either. The new kid stood beside Julia and stared straight ahead. I could see then that kids were inching away from this other new person, making faces and maybe saying the sorts of things Mason, Lucas, and the other boys in my class were saying.

“But she's got a braid.”

“Like in the fairy tale.
Rapunzel
.”

“Hey, Rapunzel! Let down your hair.”

“Let me kiss you.”

“Hey, is it a girl or a boy?”

“A girl, stupid. Look at the hair.”

“What about that jacket, though? Doesn't look very girly.”

“Dare you to go and ask her if she's a girl.”

“Dare you to go grab his nuts. We'll know if it's a boy, then!”

“Lucas, that's disgusting!”

I honestly still couldn't tell. This other new kid wore fleece track pants and a blue jacket with a motorcycle graphic on the back. They had mousy-blond hair, the same as mine, except theirs was bound into a long braid that trailed down toward the bottom edge of the jacket.

While the boys around me joked and talked, I found myself looking as intently at this second new kid as I had gazed at Julia. And suddenly, the kid with the braid seemed to know that I was staring, because
he
turned around very slowly and met my gaze.

It was Bon.

“It's a boy,” I said to Mason, Lucas, and the others.

“How do you know?” Lucas asked.

Bon and I hadn't taken our eyes off each other. “He's got a boy's face.” My voice was flat, but my head raced with questions and disbelief. What was he doing here? His hair was much longer, though his clothes still looked as faded and ratty as I remembered from ages before.

At that moment, Bon raised his hand as if to say hello to me, but I turned quickly away. I didn't want anyone to know that we knew each other, much less that we were related.

Mason and Lucas were hitting each other's shoulders and laughing. “Check out his hair!” Even though, three hours' drive from a beach, Mason had a mop of blond surfer curls. And even though Lucas was always fussy about how his hair was combed and flicked, always checking it whenever he walked past his reflection in classroom windows. I thought that was a bit much, but said nothing because I had tried for months to work my way into the middle of Lucas and Mason's circle of friends. Laughing at the same things and saying the right thing at the right time was important.

I was itching uncomfortably at the thought of sharing school with Bon. I wanted to know why he was here and, most importantly, when he was going away again.

Later that morning, as the bell rang for recess to finish, I found my chance. I could see Bon over near where kids were beginning to line up for class time. I could see him looking around a bit helplessly, as though he were trying to recognize some faces or figure out which group he needed to be with. I wasn't about to help him.

“I was looking for you,” he said suddenly. “But I couldn't see you.”

“How come you're here?” I demanded.

“I found Gina, and she remembered me,” he added, ignoring my question.

“What are you doing at my school?”

“We came here.”

After two years, I had forgotten what his voice sounded like. It was odd and precise, as though he weren't used to talking with other kids. I was already finding it annoying. “What do you mean?”

He blinked and looked a bit dazed. “We drove here. In my mom's car.”

“Another surprise visit,” I said. “Just like last time. Have you told anyone you're here? Nan? My parents?”

“My mom is visiting Nan this morning,” Bon replied. “Telling her that we are here and that I'm going to stay.” It was as though he weren't hearing the anger in my voice. “I'm going to be here at school with you.”

My mouth dropped open at the word
stay
, before I quickly said, “Well, don't hang around me. And don't tell anyone we're cousins.”

“But we
are
cousins.”

I took a step toward him. “Not here we're not.” Our noses were nearly touching, and I was close enough to smell Bon's faint scent of sweat and pee. At least this time he hadn't said that strange thing about us being brothers. “Do you still have the toys you stole from my room?” I asked. “Bet you don't.
Thief
.”

I realized a few kids had stopped to look at us, and I stepped back from him. As I walked away, I turned just once to glance back. Bon hadn't taken a step, and the look on his face was as though I'd given him a slap. I felt unhappy and guilty, knowing that I'd spoken to Bon in a way I never would to anyone else.

I'm going to stay. I'm going to be here at school with you.

Everything suddenly seemed out of balance. I wondered how I was going to manage having my strange cousin here at school, all the while pretending that we didn't know each other. I
knew
he would tell. I
knew
that I was going to be putting up with other kids making smart-aleck comments about the two of us being related.

The teachers had only just begun to emerge from the staff room to take us back to class. Whenever they were a bit late, the class lines got noisier and noisier, with kids talking and joking around, sometimes until the noise became deafening.

Beside me, Mason and Lucas began a mock fight. Mason pretended to pummel Lucas in the stomach. Lucas flung himself around with loud, comic groans, before getting Mason in a headlock. Mason yelled out, “Rapunzel! Rapunzel! Come and save me!” Kids laughed and began looking around for Bon.

“Rapunzel!” Lucas shouted. “Don't kiss Mason. He'll turn into a frog!”

Then Mrs. Gallagher's voice sounded through the playground microphone, and gradually all the noise faded. Lucas released Mason from the headlock and the two of them stood as though they'd been behaving beautifully the whole time.

I could see Bon standing a few rows ahead of me with the rest of the kids in Miss McLennan's class. He was easy to spot, with his braid and blue jacket, but so was Julia, because she and Bon were standing beside each other again.

As Mrs. Gallagher reminded everyone about waiting politely for their teachers, I could see Bon and Julia talking quietly — about what? Were they friends already?

I felt a pang of jealousy. There was something about Julia, something that I really liked about her difference from everyone else at school.
So you're Kieran.
When she had said that, it was as though she already knew me.

At that moment, she turned around, her eyes finding mine. I couldn't read her gaze or the expression her face held. She looked back to Bon and whispered something to him.

They were talking about me.

Of course they would visit us sooner or later, Bon and Aunt Renee.

In fact, I was counting the hours and minutes down from the moment Gina and I arrived home from school.

“I saw that boy,” Gina announced. “That boy who's our cousin. He was at school.”

“Bon,” Mom replied. “I know. He's in town with his mother. Did he talk to you?” she asked Gina, and then looked at me. “Did you see Bon?”

“I saw him,” I replied in a voice I hoped sounded uninterested.

Mom wanted more detail. “
And
. . . what did he have to say?”

“Not much. That he was here with his mom.” I dropped my bag beside the doorway to the living room and started thinking about snacks.

“Is that all?” Mom asked.

“Bon has a braid,” Gina interrupted. “It's longer than mine!”

“He said he was going to stay,” I replied. “That he was going to school with me.”

“Stay?” Gina interrupted again. “Stay with us?” She looked pleased at that thought.

“What did he mean, going to stay?” I asked.

“Kieran, I don't quite know. Not yet.”

I thought of Nan talking about all the times she had left messages on my aunt's phone and had no reply, and the months of not knowing where my aunt and cousin were. I knew Nan worried about Bon.

“He said Aunt Renee was visiting Nan today,” I said.

Mom nodded. “She did. And we're probably next.”

Dad came home from work, tired and unimpressed. “So they're at the trailer park?” he said, leaning against the doorway as Mom assembled dinner ingredients on the kitchen island. He was still in his work clothes. “It's pretty grim down there, you know. Not much of a place for an eleven-year-old to call home.”

Mom replied carefully. “I'm not sure that the trailer park is going to be a permanent arrangement.”

I had positioned myself at the dining table, along with homework that I usually did in my own room. Nearby, I could hear Gina singing along to her favorite music show.

“Nothing is a permanent arrangement as far as your sister goes, Megan. Is Renee taking her medication?”

The word sounded like an alarm in my head. “What medication?” I asked.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Mom answered quickly. Then she added, “To help Renee think straight. To help her look after Bon.” She frowned a little. “Do you
really
need to be doing schoolwork out here in the kitchen?”