The Hard Kind of Promise by Gina Willner-Pardo Read Free Book Online Page A

want eyestalks, right?"
    "Yes. Four. No, six," Marjorie said. "And they should be different lengths. We can attach them all over her head."
    "I was thinking pipe cleaners, but with fabric covering them, so it doesn't look tacky," Louellen said.
    They were talking as though Sarah weren't even
there. She didn't mind, really. She noticed how Louellen treated Marjorie as someone who knew what she was talking about. To listen to Louellen, you would think that Marjorie had directed hundreds of movies. You would have no idea that they were just sisters, that Louellen had changed her diapers and had once cried when Marjorie spilled a jar of spaghetti sauce on Louellen's ninth grade geometry homework.
    Sarah tried to imagine what it must be like to have sisters, and couldn't. To her, family was always just parents and grandparents.
    Trying to think about how different Marjorie's life was from hers made her even hotter.
    "Come on, you guys," she moaned. "I'm sweating in here."
    Immediately Louellen pulled the costume over her head. It made a silky, whooshing sound over Sarah's ears.
    "We don't want you fainting," Louellen said soothingly, like a teacher or a mom, like someone used to being the oldest.
    Was Louellen weird? Sarah wondered. It was hard to tell. She didn't talk in funny voices or know everything about old movie stars. She had a boyfriend. She was on her college's badminton team. She sewed all her own clothes, which would be considered very weird in seventh grade but maybe was allowed in college.
    Bea, the other sister, was a sophomore in high school. Around the house, she pretty much ignored everyone else, which she had been doing since Sarah had known her. She was on the crew team and was vice president of her class. "Is she popular?" Sarah had asked Marjorie once. Marjorie had shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "I just wish she wouldn't leave her towel on the bathroom floor."
    Was weirdness something you were born with, like blue eyes or curly hair? If your sister was popular, wouldn't you be, too? Or was it just an accident that had nothing to do with your family or your looks? Was it something that just
happened?
    Sarah really wanted to figure it out. If you could just turn out weird for no reason, then maybe you could become weird out of the blue.
    The idea absolutely terrified her.

    At dinner, Roxie set an elegantly engraved envelope next to Marjorie's plate.
    "An invitation to Cotillion. I'm sure you got one, too, Sarah," Roxie said. "Oh, you girls will have a blast. Remember how much fun Louellen and Bea had when they did Cotillion?"
    "What is it, anyway?" Marjorie asked.
    Sarah took another bite of her chicken mole and
tried not to sigh too loudly. She didn't even have older sisters, and she knew what Cotillion was. "A social dance class. Boys and girls get dressed up and learn how to dance with each other. Old-fashioned dances like the fox trot and the waltz." Sarah swallowed. "It's not like a regular class. You don't have to take it if you don't want to."
    But to Sarah's utter astonishment, Marjorie had perked up.
    "Really?" she asked. "Can we wear costumes?"
    "No," Louellen said. "You have to wear dresses and high heels, though."
    "I can't walk in high heels," Marjorie said.
    "Not
high
high heels," Bea said wearily. "Kitten heels."
    Before Marjorie could ask what kitten heels were, Sarah asked, "What do the boys wear?"
    "Suits. And hard shoes," Louellen said.
    "They end up wearing their fathers' clothes," Roxie said. "They all look adorable."
    Mr. Fingerhut shook his head. "Those poor guys," he said. "I cannot think of anything more miserable for a twelve-year-old boy than having to get dressed in a suit and touch a girl."
    "They wear suits to school?" Marjorie shrieked.
    "No, honey," Roxie said. "Cotillion meets on Tuesday nights for six weeks. In the gym."
    Marjorie shoveled a forkful of rice into her mouth. A few grains got stuck in her hair.
    "It sounds like fun," she said.
    "Really?" Sarah asked.