I frowned, realisation striking me that if I wasn’t a townie, then that put me in the so-called “foreigner” camp, and they weren’t treated like everyone else. I took back the C.V. with more force than I’d intended, unbalancing the barista. “You mean you want somebody you know from birth because you’re a judgemental shithead.”
“That’s not what I said.” But he sneered nonetheless.
I left, muttering every insulting term I had ever heard in my life. I had gotten to a very Scottish bawbag when I realised I was standing outside the community centre during the drama club’s allotted time. Maybe I could sign up.
Or I could call Dorian and ask him a million questions he wouldn’t answer while wishing he would just kiss me again.
Yeah, no.
I let myself into the community centre and asked at reception about the drama club.
“Oh.” The woman adjusted her glasses, her eyes wary. “It’s through that door. A rehearsal is about to start, so you’ll have to make sure you don’t disturb anyone.”
“Okay, thanks.” I walked through the door and along a crowded hallway. People, mostly young girls, started whispering as I passed them.
I kept my head up, avoided anyone’s gaze, and almost made it to the end of the hallway.
Then Chloe and a couple of other girls blocked the door.
“What are you doing here?” Chloe asked.
“Hey,” I said, forcing a cheerful tone to my words. “I was coming by to see about joining up.”
“There’s no room,” one of the girls said.
I looked at Chloe. “Really?”
She glanced at her friends then shrugged.
I rolled my shoulders back. “One more person won’t make much of a difference.
The girl who had spoken stepped forward, folding her arms over her chest. “There’s no room foryou,” she said coldly. “The people you associate with aren’t welcome here, and we don’t need you spying for them.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I demanded.
Chloe gripped my arm and ushered me away from the group. “We don’t want any trouble.” She looked over her shoulder. Everyone was staring at us. Chloe sighed. “Why don’t you go home, Margo? This isn’t for you. You’re not one of us.”
“As if I’d want to be like you,” I snapped then turned away. If I didn’t fit in anywhere in town, then that meant a pretty lonely future was coming my way, but I was sick to death of people trying to put me down.
I headed toward home but found myself standing next to that old field again. I wasn’t even sure if it had been a conscious decision. Maybe I was losing my mind. Maybe that’s why my birth mother gave me up. I really had to snap out of it before I drowned in the well of self-pity that had been filling up since we moved.
“Margo!” a voice called.
It was so good to hear my name in a tone that wasn’t accusing or hateful or distrustful. I turned to see Ms. Rivers walking toward me with Dorian’s other guardian. Their hands were full of leads—dogs of all sizes walked next to them.
One of the dogs lunged forward, a low growl coming from its throat. I automatically stepped back warily.
“Sit,” Nathan said, and all of the dogs obeyed. I sort of wanted to obey, too.
I kept my distance from the dogs, waiting for one to attack. It was that kind of day.
“Are you afraid of dogs?” Ms. Rivers asked.
“Not really,” I said. “Dogs just don’t seem to like me much.” And the only one who had liked me ended up dead next to me. My stomach flipped over.
“They just have to get used to you,” she said gently. “These dogs won’t hurt you.”
“Are they all yours?” I asked my teacher, a little concerned.