"How would you explain it to your mother and father?" Star asked.
"I don't know. Neither of them ever ask me what my T-shirts mean. They pretend not to see them on me. This one won't be any different."
"T-shirts won't be enough to make us sisters," Jade said.
Suddenly she looked different, darker, deeper in thought. "There's something I never told Doctor Marlowe."
"What's that?" Star said.
Jade turned to her right and looked up at the house.
"I have my own private world. It's an attic room with just a small window. I go there when I want to feel like -,"
"What?" Misty asked.
"Away from all this," she said with a sweep of her hands "We'll go up there and perform the ceremony," she added.
"Ceremony? What ceremony?" Misty asked, her eyes wide.
"The ritual that will make us all feel closer, more like sisters." When she gazed at Star, I felt that the two of them might have discussed it beforehand. Star's lips relaxed into a small smile.
"Ritual?" Misty said, her face full of worry.
"You're not afraid, are you?" Jade teased.
"No, no. Of course not. What about you, Cat?" she asked me quickly.
"I don't think even Jade, even Jade and Star together," I added, "could come up with anything that would frighten me more than my own memories," I said.
Everyone grew serious and nodded.
"That's why we need this," Jade said. "It's why I invited you all here. It's why sisters is not really an exaggeration. We're more than friends. We're family."
She gazed out at the beautiful grounds.
"We might be the only real family we have!'
"Then let's get to it," Star said.
"Can't we have dessert first?" Misty cried, eyeing the pies and cookies.
Everyone laughed, but it was different, it was a laugh full of nervousness, thin and as fragile as we all were. Maybe that's-what really makes us sisters, I thought.
After we had finished eating, we reentered the house, all of us speaking more softly, keeping our voices as low as we would if we had just entered a church. Jade led us back to the grand staircase, explaining how she had first discovered the attic room when she was only seven and how she just naturally began bringing her most cherished possessions into it. When her father discovered what she was doing, he thought it was amusing. He had the room fixed up for her, cleaned and wallpapered, and then he found some special furniture.
Suddenly she stopped at the base of the staircase and gave us all an ominous look.
"Let's make another rule right now and let's live by it.
Let's promise each other not to lie to each other and not to avoid saying or doing anything that might be unpleasant if we feel deep in our hearts it is the best thing for our sister. Either we're going to be different from everyone else out there, or we're not. We're either really going to be honest with each other and really become family or not," she emphasized. "Well?" She looked directly into Star's face.
"Fine with me," Star said. "I never lied to you about what's wrong with you yet."
"It goes both ways."
"It should," Star countered.
"Cat?"