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I enjoyed my art lessons with Professor Ashbury, who after only two lessons, declared that I had an artistic eye, "The perception that lets you distinguish what is visually significant and what is not."

Once word of my artistic talents spread, I attracted even more attention-at school. Mr. Stegman, who was also the newspaper adviser, talked me into becoming the newspaper's art editor and invited me to produce cartoons to accompany the editorials. Mookie was the editor, so we had more time to spend together. Mr. Divito asked me to join the glee club and the following week, I let myself get talked into

auditioning for the school play. That afternoon, Beau appeared too, and to my surprise and secret delight, both he and I were chosen to play opposite each other. The whole school was buzzing about it. Only Gisselle appeared annoyed, especially at lunch the following day when Beau jokingly suggested that she become my understudy.

"That way if something happens, no one will know the difference," he added, but before anyone could laugh, Gisselle exploded.

"It doesn't surprise me that you would say that, Beau Andreas," she said, wagging her head. "You wouldn't know the difference between pretend and the real thing."

Everyone roared. Beau flushed and I felt like crawling under the table.

"The truth is," she snapped, poking her thumb between her breasts, "Ruby has been my understudy ever since she came wandering back from the swamp." All of her friends smirked and nodded. Satisfied with her results, she continued. "I had to teach her how to bathe, brush her teeth, and wash the mud out of her ears."

"That's not true, Gisselle," I cried, tears suddenly burning behind my eyelids.

"Don't blame me for telling these things. Blame him!" she said, nodding toward Beau. "You're taking advantage of her, Beau, and you know it," she said, now in a more sisterly tone. Then she pulled herself up and

added with a sneer, "Just because she came here thinking it was natural for a boy to put his hands in her clothes."

The gasps around the table drew the attention of everyone in the cafeteria.

"Gisselle, that's a horrible lie!" I cried. I got up, grabbed my books and ran from the cafeteria, my tears streaming down my cheeks. For the remainder of the day, I kept my eyes down and barely spoke a word in class. Every time I looked up, I thought the boys in the room were leering at me and the girls were whispering to each other because of what Gisselle had said. I couldn't wait for the end of the day. I knew Beau would be waiting for me by his car, but I felt horribly self-conscious about being seen with him, so I snuck out another entrance and hurried around the block.

I knew my way around enough not to get lost, but the route I took made the trip back home much longer than I had anticipated, and I felt like running away, even returning to the bayou. I strolled down the wide beautiful streets in the Garden District and paused when I saw two little girls, probably no more than six or seven, playing happily together on their swing set. They looked adorable. I was sure they were sisters; there were so many similarities between them. How wonderful it was to grow up with your sister, to be close and loving, to be sensitive to each other's feelings, to comfort each other in sadness, and to reassure each other when childhood fears invaded your world.

I couldn't help but wonder what sort of sisters Gisselle and I would have been like had we been permitted to grow up together. In my put-away heart of hearts, I was positive now that she would have been a better person growing up with me and Grandmere Catherine. It made me so angry. How unfair it was to rip us apart. Even though he didn't know I existed, my Dumas grandfather had had no right to decide Gisselle's future so cavalierly. He'd had no right to play with peoples' lives as if they were no more than cards in a bourre game or checkers on a checkerboard. I couldn't imagine what it was that Daphne had said to my mother to get her to give up Gisselle, but whatever it was, I was sure it was a dreadful lie.

And as far as my father went, I sympathized with him because of the tragedy involving my uncle Jean, and I understood why he would take one look at my mother and fall head over heels in love, but he should have thought more about the consequences and he shouldn't have let my sister be taken away- from our mother.

Feeling about as low and miserable as I imagined I could, I finally arrived at our front gate. For a long moment, I gazed up at the great house and wondered if all this wealth and all the advantages it would bring to me was really any better than a simpler life in the bayou. What was it Grandmere Catherine saw in my future? Was it just because she wanted me to get away from Grandpere Jack? Wasn't there a way to live in the bayou and not be under his dirty thumb?

Head down, I walked up the steps and entered the house. It was very quiet, Daddy not yet back from his offices, and Daphne either in the study or up in her suite. I went up the stairs and into my room, quickly closing the door behind me. I threw myself on my bed and buried my face in the pillow. Moments later, I heard a lock opened and turned to see the door adjoining my room and Gisselle's opened for the first time. It had been locked from her side; I had never locked it from mine.

"What do you want?" I said, glaring up at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking repentant. It took me by such surprise, I was speechless for a moment. I sat up. "I just lost my temper. I didn't mean to say those terrible things about you, but I lied when I told you I didn't care about Beau anymore and you could have him. All the boys and some of my girlfriends have been teasing me about it."

"I haven't done anything to try and get him to choose me over you," I said.

"I know. It's not your fault and I was stupid to blame you for it. I've already apologized to him for the things I said. He was waiting for you after school" "I know."

"Where were you?" she asked.

"I just walked around."

She nodded with understanding. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I'll make sure no one believes the terrible things I said."

Still surprised, but grateful for her change of heart, I smiled. "Thanks."

"Claudine's having a pajama party at her house tomorrow night. Just a bunch of the girls. I'd like you to come with me," she said.

I nodded. "Sure."

"Great. You wanna study for that stupid math test we're having tomorrow?"

"Okay," I said. Was it possible? I wondered. Was there a way for us truly to become the sisters we were meant to be? I hoped so; I hoped so with all my heart.

That night after dinner we did study math. Then we listened to records and Gisselle told me stories about some of the other boys and girls in our so-called group. It was fun gossiping about other kids and talking about music. She promised she would help me memorize my part in the school play, and then she said the nicest thing she had said since I had arrived.