Upstander by James Preller (free ereaders .TXT) 📕

through Mary’s bedroom window, bringing the room to a low simmer. Mary felt muzzy, the sharp edge of a headache pressing behind her eyes. The air-conditioning had never worked right in the upstairs part of the house, and she’d forgotten to pull the shade. So hot and stuffy and gross. These were the days Mary was grateful for her budding friendship with Alexis Brown and Chrissie Saraynan. It had been the summer of lounging by Chrissie’s pool, wearing cute bikinis, eating carrot sticks and chips, relaxing in the sun. And if just sitting around ever got boring for Mary, if the conversation ever felt tedious, she’d simply lower herself into the water by the side of the pool. What else were you going to do in the hazy days of global warming? If the planet’s going to cook, if we’re all gonna burn anyway—might as well get a killer tan.

Chrissie had one of the nicest houses in town, three stories with two white columns. The backyard was deep, with a grassy area fenced off for the dogs—they owned two huge Irish wolfhounds, Ani and Aram—backed by a large area for the pool, bluestone patio, and curtained pool house, complete with bathroom, outdoor shower, and full-size refrigerator. Once the girls settled back there, they never needed to enter the main house, which Mary guessed was probably the idea. So in sequence: sidewalk, house, dogs, pool. Beyond the pool there was a six-foot stockade fence that separated private property from the playing fields of the local elementary school. Yeah, Chrissie’s family had money.

Chrissie and Alexis came conjoined as a perfect pair, so it had been a surprise for Mary to find herself invited into their inner circle. Thanks to Mary, the third point on the plane, the girls now formed a triangle. Mary knew from math that there were different types of triangles: isosceles, equilateral, scalene, obtuse, others. It had to do with distances and angles, where the points sat on the plane in relation to one another. In a perfect triangle, there would be three congruent sides with three angles of sixty degrees each. Human triangles were never, ever perfect. Mary’s relationship with Alexis and Chrissie, she decided, formed an acute triangle. Their points were close together, tightly connected by a short line, whereas Mary’s point floated off into space like a flickering star. This didn’t bother Mary in the slightest. The reality simply matched the way she felt inside. Alone and shining in the distance.

Throughout elementary school, Chrissie had been unremarkable. Generally unnoticed. Well-dressed and wealthy with nice stuff but never, at least to Mary’s mind, particularly interesting. She’d been gangly and awkward, arms and elbows jutting out at pointy angles. Nobody ever looked twice. Until, suddenly, in the autumn of sixth grade, they did. Boys and girls both. And it was widely agreed that Chrissie Saraynan had blossomed into a rare flower. Her eyes were dark and heavy-lidded, only ever half-open, giving off a sleepy expression, as if she’d just woken up or was about to doze off. If anyone asked, Chrissie would say with startling certainty that she planned on becoming an actress after getting a nose job and dropping out of college. No one doubted it would come true.

Alexis had come from a different elementary school, so her history was less known to Mary. Where Chrissie could be aloof, almost regal, Alexis was the girl everyone wanted to be. Athletic, smart, confident, and pretty in a non-boring way. Alexis had, it must be said, the most amazing mouth. It was a little too big for her face, too wide, too full, giving her an almost alien quality. But also, undeniably, it was a mouth made for kissing. Sensuous, soft. Judging herself against Alexis, Mary hated her own thin upper lip and felt like the dullest dishwater in the world.

On this particular afternoon, a fourth girl, Chantel Williams, was also present, altering the group’s geometric shape. Mary wondered whether it turned this afternoon’s group into a trapezoid. A rhombus? Certainly not a parallelogram, with equal parts. Or maybe that was it: Chantel and Mary were the equal, short, slanted lines. Supporting players. In any event, that might be how the trouble between them started. Bad math. The numbers weren’t right. Chantel was dark-skinned and solidly built, though people often stressed the point, when Chantel was not in earshot, of saying how pretty she could be if only.

If only she’d figured out what do with her hair.

Or lost ten pounds. Okay, fifteen.

And got some new clothes. Something less last year.

Or just tried harder.

Because, again, she had such a pretty face!

Great eyebrows! Amazing eyebrows!

If only.

3[interlopers]

Chantel had the idea that they should play something, not just sit around, so she brought along a game of Whoonu. Despite Chantel’s enthusiasm, and the fact that Whoonu was actually a decent game in Mary’s (unspoken) opinion, Alexis wasn’t much interested. She had veto power, able to alter a day’s plans with a stifled yawn. After some desultory discussion, they decided on Monopoly. As far as Mary could tell, Monopoly was the default game after everyone had run out of actual good ideas. The compromise that nobody wanted. So they got out the board and started the game. Everyone understood that they’d never finish and nobody cared who won anyway. It was just something to do until something better came along.

“This feels so BC—Before Computers,” Alexis groaned, giving the die a half-hearted roll.

“Park Place! Want to buy it?” Chantel, the banker, offered.

“I suppose I should,” Alexis said, counting out the hundreds. She picked up her phone, tapped a few times, smiled, and showed it to Chrissie.

“Oh God, what a dork!” Chrissie laughed.

Mary observed it all with mild irritation, still tired from her interrupted sleep the night before. “Let’s take a break from the game,” she suggested. “Anybody want some chips? They’re onion ranch.”

At that moment Mary noticed three heads peering over the fence. Three boys, wide-eyed and grinning like hyenas. “Hey!” she shouted