“Didn’t your mom show you?”
She shook her head.
“What’s your name?”
“It’s Savannah.” He must have grimaced at the long name because she quickly added, “But everybody calls me Van.”
“Van. That’s not so bad. Just a vee then an ay and an en. It’s kinda like my name. I’m Tanner.” He pointed at the paper in front of him. “See?”
“Not really.”
“What color do you want to do your name in?”
“Red.” She nodded, as though it was a given.
He grabbed the red crayon from the pot, along with a fresh piece of paper, and painstakingly traced out the three letters, this time making them as straight as he could. “There,” he said. “Van.”
She took the paper and held it up, admiring it like she would a piece of art. “Van,” she said. “That’s my name.” She grinned again, and he felt the warmth of it. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.” He nodded, his expression serious.
Mrs. Mason was walking around the room, looking at her students’ attempts at their name. When she reached Tanner’s table, she looked down at his paper and smiled. “That’s lovely, Tanner. And how about you, Savannah. Let’s see your name.”
Van pushed her paper forward, still beaming.
“That’s not your full name,” Mrs. Mason said. “Can you write Savannah for me?”
Van shook her head. “Everybody calls me Van,” she said, nodding to emphasize her words.
“But Savannah is such a pretty name,” Mrs. Mason said. “And you’re such a pretty girl.”
“It’s Van,” the girl said again, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need a pretty name.” Tanner had to curl his nails into his palms to stop himself from laughing out loud. Watching the two of them was like a battle of wills. He wasn’t sure who’d win.
“Well, I shall call you Savannah.” Mrs. Mason said, as though she was trying to have the last word the same way Tanner’s dad always did. “Okay, Kindergarteners, well done. Now let’s try our numbers.” She clapped her hands and walked away, shaking her head like his mom did when she was annoyed.
When the teacher had turned her back on them once more, Van elbowed Tanner to get his attention. “Hey, Tanner,” she whispered loudly.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
He smiled. “That’s okay.”
“You wanna play with me at recess?” she asked him. “I know all the good games.” She gave a slow nod, like she was weighing something up. “I’ll even be your best friend if you want me to be,” she told him. He felt warm inside, like she’d just given him a birthday present.
The sun hit her hair again, making her look like the angels in his mom’s illustrated bible, and Tanner found himself nodding at her suggestion.
“Yeah,” he agreed solemnly. “I’d like that a lot.”
Chapter Four
It had taken three days, but her mom’s bungalow was finally clean from top to bottom. Van stepped back, admiring the way the kitchen surfaces shone. Her hair was tied back from her face, her skin glowing from exertion, but she couldn’t help but grin as she took it all in.
“Hey, Zoe!” she called out, turning as her sister walked through the kitchen door. “Take a look at the stove. You ever seen it look that clean?”
Zoe pressed her lips together, staring at Van as though she was crazy. “Um, no.”
Okay, so maybe she was crazy. But since her mom had spent the past few days either laying in bed or moping on the living room sofa, it had given Van something to do.