Deep Betrayal

blossomed under my cap band. The back of my neck prickled, and I was sure I was being watched. There was no mistaking the burn. I turned in my chair, expecting to see Calder White standing there, his shockingly beautiful face mocking my exhibition. But still there was nothing.
    “Elizabeth Marie Smith,
    Sandra Ellen Smith,
    Zachary David So-beach … Sobee-eck … Sobee-ack.”
    Our beleaguered and weighted-down principal looked two inches shorter than when we started. When the superintendent finally called Yousef and Zinn, Principal Landsem slunk to the back table and emptied both pockets of our goodwill offering while the band struck up the school anthem. No one knew the words.
    Caps flew into the air. I got up and walked to the back of the auditorium, toward my parents. At least, that was where I tried to go. My body bounced off my classmates as I battled against the stream of people. The blare of air horns ricocheted off the ceiling and into my ears, along with the girls’ woot-woots and the boys’ loud guffaws. I couldn’t believe I’d grown up among these faces. Everyone was a stranger.
    “Lily!”
    A hand clasped my arm and snagged me from the crowd. Dad pulled me against his chest and whispered something in my ear. I wrapped my arms around him, and held on tight. Having him here, intact, standing on two legs … I wasn’t prepared for the rush of relief.
    He led me to a corner at the back of the gym where Mom swiveled her wheelchair in an excited dance at the bottom of the ramp. Sophie stood with one hand on a handle.
    “Oooooh, Bay! Bee!” Mom cried, her hands waving in the air. “How do you feel? Tell me. How do you feel ?”
    She didn’t give me the chance to put together an answer, or to beg to come home, or to even say hello.
    “You look so much older,” she gushed. “Doesn’t she look all grown up, Jason?”
    I glanced nervously at my dad, wondering if I could find the answer to a different question in his eyes, like “Yes, you can come home now.”
    “Oh, honey,” Mom continued, “I’ve missed you, but I’m so glad you got to walk with your class. Now bend down, we’ve got a present for you.”
    I knelt in front of her chair and she fixed a fine silver chain around my neck. “It’s a family heirloom from your dad’s side. The original chain was broken, so this one’s new, but the pendant … I think it must be very old. Isn’t it beautiful?”
    “Grandpa gave it to me before he died,” Dad said. “He wanted you to have it.”
    “A real keepsake,” Mom said as I studied the beach-glass pendant hanging from its copper fob. Softened by sand and water, the glass was the same green as Calder’s eyes, and it lay strangely hot against my chest.
    “I’m glad you made it, Mom. You too, Dad.”
    He said, “We’ve missed you, too, kiddo. It hasn’t been the same since you left.”
    I didn’t correct him by saying that I hadn’t left, I’d been sent . I didn’t want to pick a fight; it felt too good to have them here.
    An hour later, we arrived at the Badzins’ house. Inside, the air conditioner hummed and aromatic candles laced the air. Mrs. Badzin had brought out her white linens and good silver service. Several parents hovered around the buffet table where a platter of sushi and sashimi had center stage. I dunked a spicy tuna roll into soy sauce and shoved it in my mouth whole, bending over the table so the drips rolling down my chin wouldn’t stain my lace minidress.
    Rob grabbed me as I came around the corner, and he pulled me into a bear hug. “Congratulations, beautiful,” he said, stumbling a little.
    I pried myself free and shook my head. My mouth still full, I mumbled, “Knock it off, Wobby.”
    He laughed, saying, “C’mon. Everyone’s in the basement.” He pulled me by the arm, down the steps to where our friends were hanging out.
    Jules announced my arrival ceremoniously as I tripped in my vinyl platform shoes and fell awkwardly onto the futon with a self-deprecating “Ta-da!”
    I lay my head on Jules’s shoulder. “I’m so glad it’s over.”
    “Over?” Zach asked as he aimed a dart toward a small plastic target hanging on the wall. “It’s just beginning.” He let the dart fly, but it glanced sideways off the bottom rim and barely missed Jules’s foot.
    “Careful! You nearly killed me,” Jules said, pulling her feet up and under her. Zach shrugged.
    “So what’s up for tomorrow?” Phillip asked.
    Colleen Gilligan lounged on