Wishing Pearl (20 page)

So if the bottom bunk belonged to Tricia, the cutesy stuff above must be Skye’s. Which meant …
Oh no
. Olivia pivoted in slow motion toward the other side of the room, afraid to look at the bed. The top bunk sat untouched. Her eyes roved to the bottom, and dread sank like an anchor in her stomach.

“You can just set your things down here.” Ben pointed to the space in front of the bed. “Your bunk mate, Julia—Ju-Ju—can show you what to do with it later.”

Olivia’s mouth hung open as she stared at Ben. Surely he was joking. He couldn’t possibly mean that of every possible roommate in the whole place, Olivia had to share a bunk bed with a girl who already hated her. What had begun to look like a bleak existence of rules and dress codes was rapidly graduating to impossible. Were things going to work out after all? Could she live under those conditions?

Yes. She could. No matter what Ju-Ju or any of the other girls threw at her, she could handle it. After all, she’d endured living with Charles for years.

“You’re awfully quiet, Olivia.” Ben leaned back against the wall. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’d like to know, too.” Mom stared at Olivia’s face.

Feeling her eyes stinging and her chin about to quiver—quiver? She wasn’t four years old. Olivia tried to keep her composure. It wouldn’t help at all if Mom saw her cry. And what if the girls came up here? No tears. “I … I just don’t know.

It’s so different than what I’m used to.” Olivia bit her lip. “There are so many rules and so many girls. What if they all hate me?”
One already does
.

Ben nodded. “Some might.”

Mom gasped and stared at Ben with her mouth hanging open.

“Listen. This is the real world. When you put twenty to thirty girls under one roof, there are going to be personality clashes. That’s just the way it is. We’ll help you cope with those things.”

This is insane
.

“However, you’ll forge some friendships here, maybe even some unlikely ones, that will stick with you for the rest of your life.” Ben paced the room. “Time and time again I get letters and calls from girls who share with me that in some ways their time here was the hardest time of their lives.”

Oh? How comforting
. Olivia rubbed at a snag in the berber carpet with the toe of her shoe.

“But they also say it was the absolute best time of their lives in the most important ways.” Ben placed his hands on her shoulders and stared into her face. “You see, it’s the contrast of God’s hand reaching out to you and finding you against the backdrop of life’s pain and struggles that makes the experience so rich. Since you and the other girls are being honed in similar fashion, you come out of the refinement process united in a special way.”

He dropped his hands and shrugged. “The choice is yours. You might as well give it a chance. What have you got to lose?”

He’s right
. The alternative held no greater promise. If she left Diamond Estates before at least giving it a try, her life would be in shambles. At least here she had some hope. Olivia nodded. “I’ll stay.”
For now anyway
.

“Okay. This is it, then. Time to say good-bye to Mom.” Ben gave a brisk nod. “It’s best to make a clean break—like pulling off a Band-Aid—rather than a long, drawn-out farewell.”

Mom paled, and her eyes filled with tears.

Ben strode to the door. “I’ll step outside for a moment, and then I’ll walk you out, Mrs. Whitford.” He pulled the door almost closed behind him.

“Are you sure, Livvie?” Mom grasped Olivia’s hands and searched deep into her eyes. “This is what you want?”

Not what she
wanted
, but what she needed. “I’ll be okay.” Hopefully Olivia sounded more confident than she felt.

“All right. I’ll be in Denver for three days—my flight is on Monday morning. If you need me, you call me and I’ll come get you.”

Olivia nodded and held her gaze.
What else, Mom? Tell me you’re sorry. Tell me you’ll fix it all and make life right for us. Please
.

Gulping back a sob, Mom rushed through the doorway without looking back.

Olivia stood in the center of her new room and waited for tears, but none came. The time for crying had passed. It was time to square her shoulders and face the unknown like a big girl. Should she unpack? But that would mean looking for empty drawers, and the last thing she wanted was for someone to come in and think she was snooping around in her things. She could at least make up her bed.

Thankful Mom had insisted she pack her favorite blankets and pillows, Olivia opened the duffel bag that held the vacuum-sealed packages. She unzipped the one that held the squished comforter. It let out a big
swoosh
as it took in air and puffed up to full size while she tried to tuck her luxury king-sized sheets around her twin-sized mattress. The extra material bunched in clumps under the mattress and made it too lumpy, so she pulled the sheet off and folded it in half. That was better. Sheet in place, Olivia flapped her comforter in the air and watched it sail into place over the bed.

The door opened and Ju-Ju stepped inside with her arms folded across her chest. “Well, well. Looky here.” She snapped her gum.

Skye followed her inside. “We told ya you’d be back ree-ul soon.”

Why hadn’t Olivia noticed Skye’s Southern drawl before? Must have been too nervous. So she’d be living with a Southern belle, a beauty queen, and a bulldog? Fun times.

“Hi, Skye. Hi, Tricia.” Olivia nodded at the shy but beautiful black girl hiding behind Skye.

“What? No hello to me? I’m the welcome wagon.” Ju-Ju popped her gum again.

“I wouldn’t say hi to you either, if I were her. You’re not being friendly at all.” Skye put her arm around Olivia’s shoulders. “Don’t mind Ju-Ju. She acts tough, but she’s really an old softy once you get to know her.”

Ju-Ju snorted. “You’d be hard as nails, too, if you’d raised yourself living on the streets of New York. Kinda hafta be.”

Tricia narrowed her eyes behind the longest eyelashes Olivia had ever seen. “These aren’t the streets though. You can cut the act and get real for once.”

“Anyway …” Skye glared at them. “We have a new roommate, and Ben asked us to show her the ropes. So let’s quit the bickering.” She surveyed Olivia’s stuff.

“These are yours.” Tricia pulled open the top three drawers of the dresser and then shot Ju-Ju a look. “If
someone
would get her junk out of them.”

“They weren’t being used. So what?” Ju-Ju scooped up some paperback books, a few framed photographs, a pair of fingerless leather gloves, and some other items Olivia didn’t recognize and shoved them under her bed, then turned and pointed her finger in Olivia’s face. “Listen. You need to get one thing straight.” The tiny little spitfire put her hands on her hips and bobbed her dark curls from side to side as she talked. “Don’t you even think about touching my stuff. Got it?”

Or what?
“Yeah. I get it. I’m not going to touch your stuff or anyone else’s. But not because
you
said so.” Olivia pointed her finger at Ju-Ju. “Now
you
get one thing straight. Don’t ever point that finger at me again. I’ll treat you with respect if you do the same. Simple as that.”

“So it
is
true—you got that nasty scar in a knife brawl like the other girls said.” Ju-Ju closed her mouth, spun around, and huffed out of the room. No one said anything until the sound of her stomps had faded into the distance.

Olivia exhaled.
That went well
. “What’s her problem?”

“Oh, go easy on Ju-Ju. She’s really had it rough.” Skye’s smile wavered at the corners.

Tricia nodded and sat on her bed. “Yep. She might be tough to get along with at first, but once you break through, she’s the most loyal friend you could want.”

“Why should I go easy on her? She’s plain rude. That thing about the knife brawl … uncalled for.” Olivia shook her head. “How old is she anyway?” Olivia dropped to her knees beside her suitcase and began to unzip it.

Skye bent to help Olivia get the bag open. “She’s about to turn sixteen, but she’s been on her own since she was twelve. Her mom and brother got killed in a drive-by shooting by a rival Mexican gang.” Skye’s eyes teared up. “She’ll tell you stories about how she survived the past three and a half years. You’ll understand more about her then.”

“Well, I don’t see her opening up to me about her deep, dark secrets anytime soon. But I’ll give her a chance. I just hope she lightens up—soon.”

“What’s in this little case?” Skye held up the black plastic box and turned it over in her hands.

“Oh, that’s my oboe.” Olivia wondered if she’d ever get to practice. Ju-Ju would probably hate the sound as much as Charles did. Good-bye scholarship if that turned out to be the case.

“Oboe? Cool!” Tricia pulled out a longer black instrument case from under her bed. “I play the flute. Hey, maybe we can practice together sometime.”

Had there ever been an oboe-flute duo before? Was the world ready for something like that? Was Olivia?

“New girl. What’s your name?” A large aproned woman in a white chef’s hat held a bag of potatoes in her chapped hands.

“I’m Olivia.” She stepped forward hesitantly into the sea of teenage sous-chefs, most of whom she hadn’t even met yet.

“Okay, Olivia. I’m Marilyn, the cook. You’ll be on potatoes tonight.” She set the bag down next to three others just like it. “They need to be washed well. Poke a few holes in them with this.” She held up a meat fork. “Then place them on the rack in the oven. Turn them after twenty minutes. Can you handle that?” She winked—the first sign of personality from her ruddy face.

“Sounds easy enough.” Olivia shrugged and pulled a potato from the bag. At least she didn’t have to peel them.

“So, my girls are on cooking detail tonight?” A thin woman in an amethyst velour warm-up suit walked into the kitchen signing her words as she spoke. She approached Olivia with her hand outstretched. “I’m Tammy.” She shook Olivia’s hand then laid one hand flat and brushed the other one across the top of it. Then she put two fingers upright and parallel to each other. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Olivia had turned to put some potatoes in the oven but set them down instead and adjusted her stance to make sure Tammy could see her lips. “Nice to meet you, too.” She spoke clearly and enunciated every word while she brushed the palms of her hands together and pointed at Tammy.

Tammy’s eyes opened wide. She probably wasn’t used to people, especially teenage girls, using sign language when they met her. “I’m your counselor. I take care of the girls in your room and the room right across the hall from you. You and I will get together once a week for a counseling session, and I’m here if you have any problems or concerns anytime at all. I’m really glad you’re here, Olivia.” She touched Olivia’s hand and smiled then took a cart loaded with dishes and pushed it out to the dining room, where another group of girls bustled around setting up for dinner.

“Tammy’s awesome. You’ll love her,” Skye whispered as she stepped behind Olivia at the worktable.

Tricia nodded. “She’s my favorite of all the counselors.”

“Where are the other two?”

“Patty’s out in the dining room.” She steered Olivia to the little porthole window on the swinging door. “She’s the supershort one with the curly red hair. Her group is on setup and teardown this week. Donna’s girls have laundry duty.” Tricia grimaced.

“What? You don’t like Donna or laundry?”

“Both, I guess. Donna is stunning—like
America’s Next Top Model
gorgeous—so people think she’s going to be cool. But she’s so moody.”

“Yep. I used to be in Donna’s group when I first got here.” Skye nodded. “She can be tough to read. Sometimes she’s great, but you never know when she’s going to get crabby. But she has a good heart deep down. You just have to work hard to see it.”

Tricia lifted a giant colander of green beans into the sink to be rinsed. “She’s a perfect example of how beauty can be more of a curse than a blessing. Sometimes it’s better to be unattractive than to be beautiful and have to fight hard to stay that way.”

Olivia chuckled. “Well, if anyone would know about that, it would be you. But I wouldn’t mind the chance to find out for myself.”

“You say that. But you have no idea …” Tricia shook her head. “Besides, you
are
beautiful.”

“Not like you.”

“Trust me. It’s caused me more problems than anything in my life. Still does to this day. Gaining weight like I have recently is the kiss of death for someone like me. I mean, everything good about myself is wrapped up in how I look … and now …” Her eyes welled up with tears.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Tricia, get a grip. You’ve gained what? Five pounds?” Ju-Ju looked her up and down.

“Eight!”

“I love ya, but you’re just fishing for compliments now. Talk it out with Tammy, and let’s pick a different subject. One not quite so pink and girlie.”

Tricia’s eyes clouded over just before the smile lit up her face. She gave a swift nod. “You’re right.”

Notes to self: no girl talk with Ju-Ju, and steer clear of Donna
.