The Mary Shelley Club by Goldy Moldavsky (ebook reader for manga TXT) 📕

typical exchange of pleasantries. “Omigawd I legit told you about Rachel.”

Lawrence pulled out his phone, making quick work of producing the text Saundra had sent him the previous night in which she had very clearly written: Thanks for letting me crash! Can’t wait to see you! This trip is going to be awesome!—in which she very clearly neglected to mention me.

The duffel bag in my arms was starting to get heavy, and my Doc Martens, which were apparently not equipped to handle the mountain snow, were getting soggy. I stood there wondering if I’d have to catch a bus back home and how Saundra, who liked to talk so much, could be so bad at communicating.

“Oh,” Saundra said. “Okay, my bad, but Rachel has nowhere to go. You have to let her stay.”

“Can’t she go to one of the other cabins?”

“No, of course not, she doesn’t know anyone at the other cabins.”

Lawrence looked me over again. “You go to our school?”

Sometimes being the mysterious new girl really bit me in the ass.

“Forget about it.” I fumbled with my duffel as I looked for my phone. “I’ll just text someone else and see if they—”

“Lawrence, don’t be a dick,” Saundra said. “I mean, I’m joking—I’m not calling you a dick—but seriously, don’t be a dick.”

“Fine. But you’ll have to share a bed,” Lawrence said. “We’re swamped in here.”

“No worries!” Saundra said.

Finally Lawrence stepped aside to let us through. Someone called his name and he disappeared deep into the house.

“This place is huge!” Saundra spread her arms wide, her overnight bag swinging on its strap and bouncing against her hip.

She was right. This mansion in the woods was big enough to get lost in. Maybe Lawrence really was being a dick. We were only a foot inside but the vastness of it was something I had forgotten existed, living in the city. The living room was actually split into three spaces all separated by sectioned-off couches and coffee tables. I could’ve fit my whole 650-square-foot apartment in the living room. And the ceiling went beyond the main staircase, up to a second floor, opening up to a skylight. A fire was already roaring in the fireplace, and people lounged on the long couches and the fuzzy rugs on the floor.

Freddie was one of them. We locked eyes at the same time, but I was the first to look away.

“Nothing is going to beat this trip,” Saundra said.

“Totally,” I said, and hoped I sounded convincing. So much for a distraction.

All it took was a quick circle around the room for me to realize what kind of people were mooching off Lawrence Pinsky. The misfits. The kids who didn’t really belong to any cliques, either by circumstance or design. Which explained Saundra. And Freddie, too. When even Lawrence Pinsky—infamous for sobbing in class every single time he got a grade lower than a B—couldn’t recognize you, you knew you were a nobody.

I sat on one of the couches, waiting for Saundra to get back from the kitchen, and scrolled through my phone. Or pretended to. I couldn’t get any service here, but staring at my screen beat trying to make conversation with the people around me. As much as the Mary Shelley Club had helped buff the edges of my social anxiety, that discomfort still thrived within me. Plus, I was doing my best to avoid talking to Freddie. My feelings for him jumbled into something I couldn’t make sense of. Bram’s words had gotten under my skin, but I still missed him. He was the only one I wanted to talk all this stuff through with.

But when I glanced up, I spotted Freddie looking at me. He had a drink in hand, and I thought for a moment that he’d come over and say something. But after a beat that stretched too long, he headed in the direction of his Film Club friends, who were sitting on the floor, hunched over a board game called 13 Dead End Drive.

Saundra plopped down beside me on the couch and handed me a beer.

“So what’s the deal with you two?” Saundra took a long sip from her Solo cup.

“What?”

“I was just in the kitchen with Freddie. He was asking about you.”

I sat up straighter. “What did he say?”

“He was surprised to see you here. He seems sad. And you seem kind of sad. So, naturally, I assume something must be up with you two.”

“Nothing,” I said. “Nothing’s up.” I hadn’t expected the pang of guilt that bloomed in my chest. I’d thought it’d get easier to lie to Saundra, but it was only getting harder.

“You sure?” She looked at me suspiciously. “Sometimes I think you’re an open book, but then sometimes … like when I see you exchanging super-loaded looks with Freddie Martinez, or when you suddenly walk up to Bram out of the blue in the lunchroom, I don’t know. You’re hiding something.”

There were two sides to me—one that was desperate to confess all to Saundra, and another that needed to keep things under wraps, afraid that if I told one secret, they’d all come spilling out. Both sides were playing tug-of-war, pulling so tight I might snap in half.

I hadn’t really told Saundra anything about me and Freddie, trying to keep my Mary Shelley Club life apart from my regular life. But now I wondered why. I needed someone to talk to, and even if I couldn’t tell Saundra everything, I could still tell her something. “Freddie and I kinda had a thing…” Reacting to her scandalized look, I quickly amended the statement. “For like a minute. Really, barely worth mentioning. And now—” I shrugged, waved my hand vaguely. “I dunno. Things are weird.”

Saundra pushed out her bottom lip in full sympathy. “Why weird?”

“I just don’t know if he’s the guy I thought he was. Someone told me I couldn’t trust him.”

Saundra snuggled in next to me until we were both perfectly ensconced in the corner of the couch. I didn’t know what she