Page 49

"All? How many brothers and sisters do you have?"

"I have two sisters and a brother, all in elementary school, and my father doesn't make enough money."

"Oh. Your mother doesn't work too?" I asked.

"My mother's dead," she said sharply. "I'm going to get a seat over there," she said nodding toward a table in the rear where other students with dark complexions sat. "But you probably don't want to sit with the bravas."

"Bravas?"

"Half black, half Portuguese," she explained and walked away, leaving me in line.

I looked for Cary and saw him way on the other end sitting with two boys. He was a senior so I knew he wouldn't be in any of my classes, but I was hoping we would at least see each other at lunch. He looked my way, but made no gesture for me to join him. Instead, he continued to talk to his friends.

Alone in a large room full of strangers, most of whom were staring at me, made me feel like the proverbial fish out of water. What better place to feel like that, I thought, than Cape Cod? The idea brought a smile to my face and I turned toward the food counter.

"Hi." A tall, slim, brown-haired girl appeared beside me. She had the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen and a pretty smile. "I'm Lorraine Randolph."

She offered me her hand and we shook. "Melody "Melody Logan," I said.

"I know. This is Janet Parker." Lorraine nodded at a dark brunette who had harder features and dull hazel eyes. She had two prominent pock marks on her fore-head, too, and, being large breasted, was quite a contrast to Lorraine Randolph.

"Hi," she said.

"I'm Betty Hargate." The shortest of the three pushed herself between Janet and Lorraine. She had her dark blond hair cut in a page boy and wore a cap to match her designer blouse and skirt. There was a puffiness under her eyes and a twist in her mouth that made her look as if she were smirking. Her small nose looked as if it had been planted at the last minute of birth between her bloated cheeks. She was the only one of the three who wore earrings. She had a gold necklace and a ring on every other finger, too.

"Hi," I said.

"So you're Grandpa's cousin, huh?" Betty asked. "Grandpa?" I smiled, confused.

"Cary Logan. We call him Grandpa," Lorraine explained.

We moved down the food line.

"Cary? Why?"

"Because he acts like it," Betty explained. "Don't you know your own cousin?"

"We just met, actually," I replied, and chose my lunch. I moved quickly, not comfortable with Betty's tone of voice. They followed and Lorraine asked me to sit at their table. I wanted to walk over to Cary's table even though he hadn't invited me, but I didn't want to turn down any prospective new friends, either.

"How come you just met Cary?" Janet asked before putting half her hot dog into her mouth.

"We lived too far away from each other for our families to see each other." That seemed to satisfy them.

"So you never knew what he was like then," Betty concluded.

"What do you mean: what he's like?" I asked. "I don't understand."

"All he cares about is working with his father and saying his prayers. He doesn't smoke or drink, never goes to any of our parties. He talks to us as if we're all . . ."

"What?" I asked.

"Jezebels," she said. They all laughed.

"'What?"

"Didn't he tell you about Jezebel?" Janet asked. I shook my head.

Betty leaned toward me. "Jezebel was the wife of Ahab and worshiped pagan gods."