Riot Girls: Seven Books With Girls Who Don't Need A Hero Read online

  I pulled my English book out of my backpack and stood up to set it on my desk. First day and we already had an assignment. It was just plain cruel. If I didn’t do the homework right then, I would procrastinate until the day it was due. My goal was to do a little better in school that year. The classes weren’t really hard for me, it was more a lack of motivation that kept my grades down.

  I sat down at my desk, my mind still preoccupied, trying to come up with an explanation for the eerie experience in the woods. No matter how I tried to justify what had happened, I kept coming back to the same conclusion: someone or something had followed us, and had chased us when we ran. The thought briefly crossed my mind that predators will chase you if you run. It’s instinct, they simply can’t help themselves. I suppressed a shiver and stared at my English book for several minutes, then got up and went downstairs. Tomorrow, I’d do it tomorrow. Ri-ight.

  My mom was getting home from work just as I reached the living room. My mom is a field biologist. I’m not sure exactly what she does, something to do with birds. I tried having her explain it to me once, but when she got to the part about collecting dead bird bodies to study, I decided I was okay with not really knowing what my mom does. Her job takes her out of town a lot, which can be good and bad. I miss her, but having free range of the house does not suck.

  My mom noticed me and gave me a warm smile that reached her chocolate brown eyes. I get none of my looks from my mom. Her dark, wavy hair and tan skin are in sharp contrast to my blonde paleness. I must look more like my dad, but I never knew him, so I have no proof.

  My mom’s hands were full with what looked like plastic bags of Chinese take-out. Yeah, we don’t have the healthiest eating habits, not that I’m complaining. Our main dinners of choice are pizza and Chinese food. If we get bored we occasionally throw in some Indian or, gasp, have a home-cooked meal. On the rare occasion that we decided on home cooking, the task always fell to me. My mom and cooking apparatus of any kind just do not mix.

  My mom took the bags to the rectangular, pale wood dining table, while I grabbed us each a glass of water. See, we’re not that unhealthy, water is good for you. Plus there’re vegetables in the Chinese food. Don’t judge us.

  My mom pulled out a matching pale wood chair, smoothing the skirt of her burgundy cotton dress as she sat. I followed suit then dug in the bags for the included wooden chopsticks, handing a set to my mom. We took the little cartons of food out of the bags and placed them between us on two woven yellow placemats. My mom watched me with curiosity in her dark eyes.

  “How was your first day?” she asked casually.

  “Eh,” I replied, “same old, same old. I’ve got three classes with Allison, two with Lucy, and one with Brian, so that’s good.”

  My mom smiled. “Any cute boys?”

  Ugh. I replied tiredly, “Must you always ask that question?”

  My mom nodded. “It’s a mom’s duty.”

  I ignored her question and focused on my food.

  “Any interesting classes this year?” she asked.

  “C’mon mom, are there ever any interesting classes in high school?”

  She laughed her usual, full-throated laugh. “It could happen.”

  “When hell freezes over,” I replied with a smile. “How was your day?”

  “Same old, same old,” she mimicked. “I may have to stay a few days in Washington next week.”

  I nodded and turned my attention back to my food. Once we finished eating, I headed back upstairs to my room.

  As I walked in I glanced at my English book sitting forlornly on my desk. I thought about trying to do my homework again for roughly two seconds, then grabbed the worn novel off of my dresser. I spent the rest of the evening re-reading Galapagos, by Kurt Vonnegut, until I was tired enough to go to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  THERE WAS FIRE all around me. Everywhere I looked was a solid wall of flame, bright blue at the bottom fading into orange, then pale yellow. I should have been scared, or at least passing out from lack of oxygen, but I was somehow calm. I looked back at the wall of flame. There were faces in the fire. Faces from my past and present, and some I didn’t know. I saw my mom, Allison, and Lucy amongst them. The faces were all watching me, waiting to see what I would do. A large wolf appeared in the flames, its shaggy gray-black fur immune to the fire. He watched me with his head cocked.

  I woke up drenched in sweat. I wiped my brow with the back of my hand. I’d had dreams of fire a lot lately, some involving friends and family, and some where I was all alone. The wolf was new though. All of the dreams involved fire. The fire never burned me. I couldn’t even feel the heat. I had no idea what they meant, or if they meant anything at all. The eerie part was that I always woke up with a fever that subsided after an hour or so.

  I struggled out of the tangled mess I had made of my sheets and padded into my purple-themed bathroom to shower. I turned on the water in my marble tiled shower and waited patiently for it to heat up. Once the water began to steam, I added a little bit of cold to the mix, stripped off my still-damp t-shirt and boxers that I used as pajamas, and stepped in. As the hot water washed over my face, I thought more about my recent slew of dreams. I couldn’t understand being surrounded by fire, and not being afraid. I mean, I’ve never been particularly afraid of fire or anything, but I’m sure if I were surrounded by it in the waking world, I’d be more than a little scared.

  My mom, who likes to interpret dreams, had quite a few theories on the dreams, but nothing that really made sense to me. She told me that fire could symbolize change, life and death, re-growth, or a myriad of other things; it could be different for each person. I had no idea what fire was to me, but I knew there was more meaning to my dreams than simple interpretations could foretell. I’ve always had a strong sense of intuition. Something bad was coming. Now if I only knew what the bad thing was.

  My train of thought had led me to forget whether or not I’d shampooed my hair yet, so I did it again, just in case. I’d been doing that a lot lately.

  When I was done, I turned off the water and slid open the glass shower door. Steam seeped out into my small, but beloved, bathroom. I grabbed a fluffy purple towel from the wall rack and wrapped it around me. I walked to look into the round mirror above my sink, clearing a circle in the condensation with my palm. I wiped my moist hand on my towel and peered at my reflection.

  I looked like I’d seen a ghost. My face was even paler than usual and I had dark circles under my bright green eyes. The row of big, round light bulbs above my mirror made the dark circles look severe. The dreams were not only weirding me out, they were interfering with me getting a good night’s sleep, and causing me to run out of shampoo. Sighing, I ran a comb through my wet hair and left it as that. I dressed in jeans and a dark green t-shirt that emphasized my eyes, and went to school.

  When I got to Biology, Allison didn’t even bother to tell me her thoughts on my outfit of choice. She simply straightened her satiny burgundy tank-top that went with her designer jeans and dark-brown suede boots. It seemed Allison was beginning to view me as a lost cause. Okay by me. Mrs. Sanders had decided that the second day of class was a perfect day for dissection. Earthworm guts in the morning. Yum. Ms. Sanders waddled from table to table, letting us choose our earthworms with long tweezers from an industrial size jar. The worms had turned a sickly gray from the preservatives.

  “Why Xoe? Why worms?” Allison whined.

  “Look at it this way Al, it could be way, way worse. In Advanced Bio they have to dissect cats and baby pigs,” I said, turning Allison a lovely shade of green.

  Allison was basically the worst lab partner in existence. She refused to touch anything slimy, stinky, or otherwise, even with gloves. I tried not to breathe in the odor as I pinned the poor departed earthworm to the blue foam inside the metal dissection tray. I then poised my scalpel to cut along his underside, following the diagram in our Biology books. Some sort of fluid squirted towards Allison as I punctured
the worm, causing her to jump out of her chair and emit a girly scream. I practically fell over laughing, as did anyone seated near us. I hadn’t squirted her on purpose, total accident. Scout’s honor.

  Few others were having much success with their worms either. By the time class was reaching its end, most of the worms had been annihilated into unrecognizable bits of goo. The bell rang before anyone had cleaned his or her tray, so we all had to rush to do it before Ms. Sanders would let us leave. We were gonna be late for our next classes. Things were looking up.

  My following two classes were uneventful, as expected. Afterward, Lucy and I walked together to the cafeteria to find that Dan was already at our table waiting for us. I sat down as far away from him as possible. Lucy sat down right beside him, pretending she was doing nothing out of the ordinary. Dan scooted a little closer to her after she sat down, being horribly obvious. Lucy’s pale green, lightweight sweater and khaki pants looked out of place against Dan’s charcoal colored t-shirt and dark-wash jeans. Dan met my observant gaze almost territorially. My pulse sped up just a bit. What was with him?

  Allison arrived with her lunch and sat down next to me, frowning at Dan and Lucy’s closeness. I pulled my oh-so nutritious lunch, a granola bar, out of my backpack and started munching on it, maintaining eye contact with Dan defensively, trying to ignore the feeling of my hair standing on end. The granola felt like cardboard as it reached my stomach.

  “Don’t you have a lunch?” Dan asked Lucy, turning away from my glare.

  “Oh, um, I forgot,” Lucy answered.

  Forgot? She never forgot. I had the sneaking suspicion that she simply did not want to eat in front of Dan. I would never understand the way girls act around guys. Missing lunch just so he wouldn’t see you eat? Sorry, but I wasn’t missing lunch for anything short of Brad Pitt.

  “Do you want me to get you something?” Dan asked Lucy.

  Lucy’s skin darkened with a blush and she looked down at the table. “Oh, no thanks, I’m good.” After a moment of silence, she quickly added, “Thank you for the offer though.”

  “You’re really not hungry?” I prodded Lucy.

  “No,” Lucy replied, her skin somehow going even darker.

  “I can’t remember the last time I saw you skip lunch,” I went on. “It just seems kinda weird.” Ok, so I was being cruel, but Dan’s presence had me in a bad mood.

  Brian came trotting up to our table wearing a football jersey and jeans to squeeze in between Allison and me, saving Lucy from further prodding. Brian set his lunch tray on the table and smiled mockingly when Allison looked down her nose at him.

  Dan watched Brian like a hawk, scooting even closer to Lucy. Brian stared back at Dan, mouth screwed up in confusion, then his brow furrowed over his suddenly defensive glare. Uh oh, I could feel the testosterone rising. Dan and Brian continued to stare at each other. Dan was intimidating, and Brian, well, he tried. Something that sounded like a low growl trickled from Dan’s throat. Brian blinked, the defensive look on his face slipping back into a confused one.

  “Did you just growl at me?” Brian asked Dan, almost laughing.

  Dan just continued to stare. Brian frowned, but held his ground. What the heck was going on? I mean, it’s not like masculinity contests are uncommon among teenage boys, but this was just plain odd. Lucy was practically cowering. Allison was looking back and forth between the two boys like they had just sprouted second heads.

  “What is with you?” I asked Dan, exasperated.

  He turned his icy glare to me, making me wish I hadn’t spoken. Brian seemed relieved to have the attention off of him. Dan just stared at me.

  Mustering up my courage I raised my eyebrows. “Well?” I asked, a little more shakily than I would have liked.

  Dan suddenly snapped out of it and started laughing. “I totally had you guys going,” he said, laughter tinting his words.

  Brian laughed hesitantly and soon Allison and Lucy joined him, brushing off the awkward moment. I didn’t get the joke.

  The bell rang.

  Brian slowly rose with his tray, eyes never leaving Dan. “I’ll see you guys later,”

  Apparently Brian was unsure of the “joke” as well. I watched Brian walk to the trashcan and dump his mostly uneaten food. Dan stayed seated, practically pressed against Lucy, until Brian was out of sight. He then insisted on walking Lucy to class. She seemed to be deciding between being pleased or maybe just a little creeped out. They walked out, leaving Allison and me alone.

  “What on earth was that about?” Allison asked.

  I raised my eyebrows at her. “I told you he was a creep.”

  “But he growled at Brian, like a dog or something. Was he seriously just kidding around?” She asked

  “I don’t know, but I don’t get the joke. Maybe we should cancel on Saturday.”

  Allison sighed, “I don’t know if Lucy will go for it. Besides, he really could have just been joking.”

  “He sure has a weird sense of humor,” I replied with a scowl.

  Allison gave me a weak, humoring smile and we headed for gym. The rest of the day went by as usual, but Lucy and I had Allison give us a ride home, just in case.

  The next few days of the school-week were uneventful. Dan sat with us at lunch, with no more shows of male dominance, joking or otherwise. He continued to stare at me during English, but never tried to speak to me alone again. When Friday finally came, the elation I usually felt at the weekend was tainted by the fact that Dan was still included in our Saturday plans.

  Lucy and Allison had seemingly forgotten about his weird moment, or else they simply chose to ignore it. I, on the other hand, had not forgotten, and was dreading Saturday. In addition to the evidence I had suggesting that Dan was a weirdo, I also just had a bad gut feeling about him. My intuition was still screaming that something bad was coming . . . or maybe it was already here.

  Chapter Four

  ALLISON HAD DECIDED that the shopping couldn’t wait until next weekend, so we were going Friday afternoon. Lucy and I waited outside my house for Allison to come pick us up. Not that we couldn’t drive, we both had our licenses, but sadly, no cars. Allison’s parents bought her car for her on her 16th birthday.

  Lucy and I were waiting, sitting on the swinging redwood and wrought iron bench that dominates the left side of my front porch, when Allison’s dark blue Nissan Sentra pulled into my driveway. I matched Lucy’s resigned sigh with one of my own. Neither of us enjoys shopping, but Allison has a tendency to beat at your resistance until you finally just give in to whatever she wants.

  “You ready for this?” I asked Lucy.

  Lucy nodded her head with a look of determination. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  I stood and straightened my jeans and lightweight navy sweater, then turned to wave goodbye to my mom, who I could see through the kitchen window. Lucy and I strode towards Allison’s car to meet our fate. I stole the front seat, forcing Lucy to slide into the back. Some generic girly pop music was blasting from Allison’s car speakers. I immediately grabbed the volume knob and turned the music down to a bearable (or at least as bearable as girly pop can be) volume.

  “Remind me why we’re friends with you?” I asked Allison playfully.

  “It’s because I have a car,” she replied with a smile. She glanced back still smiling to acknowledge Lucy, but her smile slipped a little as she noticed Lucy’s sweater, which was practically the twin of mine. Allison looked back at me, then at Lucy again. “What are you, the Bobbsey Twins?”

  I sighed. “It wasn’t on purpose, don’t judge, you’re not exactly looking your usual self today.”

  Allison looked down at her plain white t-shirt and torn, faded jeans. She shrugged. “Laundry day.”

  I smiled and said jokingly, “I knew there must be some valid excuse.”

  “Of course,” Allison replied as she mimicked a royal bow from the waist up. She put the car in gear and began to maneuver out of my driveway. She glanced at me as we rea
ched the road. “Did your mom give you any shopping money?”

  “Yeah,” I replied, “she was so shocked that I was actually going back-to-school shopping that I didn’t even have to ask her, she just excitedly ran for her wallet.” I held up my mom’s gray and gold credit card as evidence.

  “Lucy?” Allison asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

  “Yep.” Lucy’s hand appeared between Allison and me, holding a silver credit card.

  Within a few minutes we were driving past the Shelby cemetery. Cemeteries give me the creeps, especially the one in Shelby. Lucy and I visited it when Lucy’s grandma had died. We had walked among the rows of graves, all the way to the back where the oldest tombstones loomed, some of them dating back to the early 1800’s. I could feel the age of the place, like the spirits of the long-dead corpses were surrounding me, trying to push me out. I know logically that ghosts don’t exist, but the sudden feeling of panic that scraped across my skin while I was among the dead begged to differ.

  Once the cemetery was out of sight, I let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding and turned my attention back to the road ahead of us. We soon approached what Shelby calls a “mall.” It was more of a hallway according to Allison. We parked in the partially full lot and stepped out of the car to be met by a cool breeze. We went straight inside the mall to its fluorescent-lit corridor. It was the stuff of nightmares. Salespeople called to us from little kiosks in the middle of the hallway, asking us what cell phone service we had or if we had ever heard of the Dead Sea. Groups of people from our high school were clustered together, laughing and ignoring the fact that they were totally clogging the sporadic flow of foot-traffic. Lucy and I followed Allison as she veered into one of the chaotic, brightly colored stores.