The walk from school into town is a short one as the high school sits not far off Main Street. It seems like everything in this town is just off main street. Just as we left the school parking lot, we'd been joined by another girl, Rosie. She has black hair, and freckles spattered across her nose. Apparently, she has been friends with the other three since elementary school, but last year committed blasphemy by taking art cla.s.s instead of drama.

"Lizzie's?" Jen asks once the school is out of sight.

"We always go there," Frank says, but the complaint seems halfhearted like this is a conversation they've had a million times before.

"I'm sorry, what's your issue with free food?" Rosie asks as she kicks a stone out of her path.

I'm following behind the four of them trying to blend, like I'm part of the group and not just some tagalong, but I haven't been able to jump into the conversation yet.

Our destination is impossible to miss as a big sign reading Lizzie's Diner hangs over an older-looking brick building. Rosie pushes the door open and holds it there while everyone else pushes inside. A few other people from school already beat us there and sit cl.u.s.tered around tables, talking and doing homework.

While mostly the interior looks like a cla.s.sic diner, the walls are decorated with hand-painted caricatures. It takes me a minute to recognize the pattern but it's all women, and every single person who's included up there is named Elizabeth. There are a couple of queens, Elizabeth Banks as Effie Trinket. Elizabeth Taylor. That girl from Bewitched. And tons of others I don't recognize, but they're all painted in the same style.

"Well, this place is... Cool?" I'm sure I sound like an idiot as soon as I open my mouth, but the need to say something was too much to ignore.

Even though the sign says to wait to be seated, Rosie leads us to a table in the back. I cast an uncomfortable glance at the sign as we go by, not liking to be the one to break a rule and sure that someone's going to chase us down at any second.

We take our seats, but Rosie deposits her backpack on a chair before disappearing out of sight. She returns a minute later with a stack of gla.s.ses and a pitcher that looks like it's full of cola.

The others are already chatting about some English teacher. Rosie turns to me as she settles the gla.s.ses on the table. "I wasn't sure what you liked, but if you want something different I'll go grab it for you."

I'm about to ask if she works here, but a second later a gray-haired woman who looks to be about my mom's age, wearing a pink polka-dotted ap.r.o.n appears by our table. "Hey, kids. Good day at school?" The woman leans down and plants a kiss on Rosie's head. So she definitely has an in here. The two of them share the same oval face and small chin, plus the older woman even has a few freckles. Rosie's mom, I guess.

Everyone answers at once, filling the woman in on the latest gossip from school before her eyes find me. "Oh my goodness. We have a new addition today." She looks over at Rosie. "You didn't tell me you knew one of the Donovan girls."

"I didn't until about ten minutes ago, she's in drama cla.s.s with these guys."

Kent opens his mouth as though to retort something about drama cla.s.s, but the woman shoots him a warning glance before taking over the empty seat across from me.

"Drama cla.s.s? Bold choice." Before I can say anything back about how it wasn't a choice I should've made, she continues. The way she's watching me is unnerving, like she's studying everything about me. "Let me guess which one you are."

I force myself to smile and nod politely, expecting yet another Fairview Four fan since everyone my mom's age and older seems to have the same interest. "Reagan." She declares after a minute. "Or perhaps Reilly?"

"You got it the first time," I say, smiling. Just keep smiling, I remind myself. This woman doesn't seem to mean any harm, and as long as Rosie's mom is less pushy than Kent's, I can't complain.

"I thought so. Because of the drama cla.s.s, and the way you watch everyone around you. I remember when you were a baby; you were always the most eager for attention. You could do much more than toddle around and babble the last time I saw you, but you would do anything you could to draw attention away from your sisters and back to you."

That puts a stop to all of the a.s.sumptions floating around in my head. "You knew me when I was a baby?"

"Oh yes, your mother and I grew up on the same street. And when she had you girls, I had just had Rosie here. So, tag teaming five babies between all of us, lightened the load a bit. They always appreciated the extra pair of hands." She looks down at Rosie and I as though remembering how much work we had once been. "I still remember those first weeks after you girls had come home from the hospital. Your mother was treating the whole thing like some science experiment, creating formulas and systems to keep you all fed and happy. Meanwhile, your dad was all over the place. He meant well, but he didn't understand the first thing about babies. You girls were a crash course like no other and before you could say quadruplets, your dad was a pro."

Looking over at Rosie, it's weird to think that this girl I thought I'd met for the first time less than an hour ago used to share a crib with my sisters and I long before my earliest memory.

"So wait, you figured out who I was because I was an attention hog as a baby?" I'm sure she has me confused with one of my sisters. "Because taking a drama cla.s.s was kind of an accident for me. I'm the Donovan sister least likely to stand in a spotlight for any amount of time."

"Oh, I'm sure. It was like you realized you were the one who had arrived first and deserved to be treated as such." I blush, a little uncomfortable with the unexpected trip down memory lane. "You were adorable, don't you worry about it," she says before standing back up. "So what can I get everyone today?" She glances back at me. "One perk of knowing my daughter, is that the French fries at Lizzie's are always free. But for you, since it's your first time back, and you were always such a nice baby, anything you want, on the house."

After taking everyone's order, Rosie's mom disappears back to the kitchen. Everyone else at the table is watching me like a freak of nature. I shrug, trying to get their attention back off me. "It's weird, because I don't remember ever living here before. But everyone older seems to remember us."

"My mom's got an old picture of me sitting between you and your sisters, right in the middle. We were about nine or ten months old. Beyond that, I don't remember it at all."

"Random question," I say to Rosie. "What's your mom's name? Or what am I supposed to call her." It's kind of weird due to the the fact that this woman knows me on sight but I don't even know enough to report back to my mom about who I met.

"Call her Lizzie, everyone does. Technically, it's her middle name-Lizzie was her mom-but it's always just been easier this way."

Clearly bored with the conversation, Frankie digs through his backpack. A moment later, he produces a stack of a few different graphic novels and hands them over to Rosie. "Thanks. Let me know when you get the next ones in."

"Pshh, do you really think I'd let you go without?" Rosie answers, already fishing something out of her own bag. She hands him another pile of books. "Rat Queens. Only two volumes so far, but it's good."

Frank stares down at the cover. "Are all the characters girls?"

"Yes. Which I'm sure will be no problem for an enlightened human such as yourself." Rosie gives him a hard look.

Frank grumbles but immediately starts reading. It's not long before our food arrives and the conversation dies down as everyone piles burgers and sandwiches into their mouths. The BLT I ordered tastes even better than it looks, and I'm already planning on getting my family to come out here. I wonder if my parents reconnected with Lizzie already.

They had these whole lives here before we were born. How many other friends did they have that they never mentioned? Had they been keeping in touch with anyone? My mom had lived here until she went away to school, and then had come back, my dad in tow after graduation.

"You seem lost in thought," Kent says, leaning toward me as I pop a French fry in my mouth.

"So many people around here knew me as a baby. Or my parents. This place is new for me, but we're old news for everyone else."

"I'm guessing it sucks to be news at all. Have I apologized yet on behalf of my mother? Because she definitely doesn't see you guys as old news."

Well, that doesn't sound promising. I narrow my eyes, trying to figure out if I should read something more into this conversation. "Is there something I should know? Because we like just did the baby pictures in the paper for our birthday thing, and I'm sure there has got to be something more interesting going on around here. I figured she would be over us by now."

"You're clearly new," Rosie interrupts with a sympathetic smile. "Nothing is ever going on in Fairview."

"Ignore her. Fairview is fine. And there is almost always something going on. You need a guide to show you what to avoid and what's worth getting involved in," Kent says, leaning back in his chair.

"Getting involved? I'm not really a joiner."

Kent's eyes stay locked on mine. "Well you didn't think you could be an actor until today, so there you go." I want to point out to him that I still don't think I can be an actor, or that what I did in cla.s.s today could be considered acting, but he carries on. "And unfortunately, getting involved is basically a must here."

Jen nods, knowingly. "There are all sorts of volunteering and community involvement requirements for graduation."

How has n.o.body mentioned this to us already? Or had Mom been waiting to drop the bombsh.e.l.l until we'd already settled in a bit more? I try to swallow back my panic, save it for later.

"How is everything?" Lizzie asks, coming back at the right moment to keep me from getting up and fleeing the table.

I mumble another thank you and eat a French fry for effect. The food is great, but I can't shake the idea of having to get involved in any way shape or form. Group a.s.signments are already torture enough, and those are all with people my age who hate the idea as much as I do.

"Do you all have your costumes sorted out for next week?" Lizzie asks as she and Rosie started clearing away everyone's plates.

I look over at Kent, hoping for an explanation. The costumes part I understood, but Halloween is still a couple weeks away, and while my sisters all decided what they wanted to be a month ago, I hadn't given it much attention yet.

"Every year, the week before Halloween, the town puts on a costume party. Pretty much an excuse for everyone older than ten to eat candy and dress up too. The town square gets decked out in all sorts of Halloween gear, usually someone nearby offers up their house for a maze or spooky house. You should come!"

I mumble an answer but don't commit to anything, pleased that they thought to invite me but not convinced this is the kind of thing I'd like... at all.

We spend another hour sitting around Lizzie's and eating free French fries, and since drink refills are also on the house, I more than take my fill. Hopefully dad wasn't planning anything good for dinner.

As we're leaving, all set to go our separate ways, Jen and Kent turn back toward me. "Are you usually in the library for lunch?" Jen asks I shrug, not eager to confess anything.

Kent takes a step back toward me. "We probably only have a couple weeks left of decent weather before we start eating inside, so if you wanted to come hang out with us during your lunch, you should. I promise, we are not all as insane as we seem."

"Umm, I..." I have no idea what to say. I want this. So badly. But I don't want to accept in a way that makes them rethink inviting me. Jen has already seen me sitting alone and reading during lunch, so it's not like I can pretend I have better plans. But I also don't want to sound like I'm taking some sort of pity invite, if they don't actually want me around.

"No pressure," Kent adds. "You can find us around the side of the building by the portables if you're up for it. And Lizzie sometimes sends cookies, so there's that to consider."

"I'll definitely keep that in mind." I end the conversation with a wave. Did that come up too b.i.t.c.hy? Do I sound like I think I'm too good for them? They must've heard about the debacle with the note in science cla.s.s, but they still offered to hang out with me anyway. So I guess that something. It's not like they needed to bring it up. And they didn't have to invite me out after school. Our presentation today didn't even come up.

As I walk along Oakridge I attempt to find the best way to tell my sisters I may have found a group of friends to hang out with without sounding lame. My mom's car is already in the driveway, home from work early, as I approach the house.

Before I even step inside, I can already hear raised voices coming from somewhere inside. The front door glides open as I lean against it and try to sneak in without making too much noise. From the sounds of it, at least half my family is p.i.s.sed off at one another and the last thing I want is to get involved.

I drop my bag in the front hall on top of Reese's and head for the kitchen. So far, there's no sign of anybody else down here, meaning they are all upstairs arguing about something or other. "You're such a hypocrite sometimes," someone shouts from upstairs, and I'm guessing it's Rhiannon.

Do not get involved. Do not get involved.

I've only poured myself a gla.s.s of orange juice before my curiosity gets the better of me. If Rhiannon is the one yelling, this could go from bad to nuclear level family drama in a matter of minutes. I make my way upstairs and see Riley leaning against a wall at the top of the landing. She's silent and watchful, keeping an eye on something that's going on at the other end of the hall. Once I make it up, I realize what's happening. Mom and Rhiannon are going at it. Reece and Dad seem to hover on the periphery, ready to jump in or try to calm things down respectively.

"You knew I didn't even want to come here in the first place, you should give me a little of slack. I'm adjusting."

"Drop the att.i.tude. I've already given you plenty of slack. But skipping cla.s.ses is just unacceptable, it's completely unlike you."

"So what, because it is like Reece, that makes it okay. She's allowed to skip cla.s.s and I'm not? How fair is that?"

I can see Reece deflate, stepping away from Rhiannon. "Don't bring me into this. I've gone to every single one of my cla.s.ses so far this year."

"And that is an accomplishment?" Dad asks. "We should take a breather here. Feelings are running hot. And Rhiannon has been nothing but a model student, if she needs to blow off a little steam from time to time, it's not the worst thing."

"So much for our united front," Mom snaps. "Saying we're okay with this now sets a precedent for everyone. We are not okay with this," she finishes, looking over at all of us. I'm already wishing I'd stayed downstairs. No one ever mentioned my missing a cla.s.s on the very first day of school but since everyone knew what had happened, I guessed that they were taking pity on me.

"Why are you even here?" Rhiannon asks, not willing to back down. "Aren't you supposed to be at your stupid job? The one that was so d.a.m.n crucial for you to take that you had to uproot your family."

"Rhiannon, don't. Just don't go there. We've had this discussion so many times already."

"No, you had this discussion. You tell us what you think we need to know, you don't bother answering any of our questions though. And then you just make declarations for our entire family. Newsflash, that's not a discussion."

Before anyone can say anything else, Rhiannon backs into our bedroom and slams the door. The rest of us stare at one another for a long minute before Reece slips into her own room, leaving the door open but making it clear she's not looking to continue the conversation either.

As our parents start talking to one another, Reilly turns towards me. "So, how was it? Was everyone awesome?"

I take a second to realize what she's talking about. In all the chaos here, everything else has already been pushed aside. Kent, his friends, Lizzie having known us as babies. All of it. In less than five minutes, my family has ruined my mood. And I'm not even surprised.

Chapter 10.

We are having roast beef for dinner, which is a family favorite. Tonight, everyone is only picking at their plates and barely speaking. No one has forgotten the argument a few hours earlier.

"He was gorgeous," Mom says, continuing to ramble on about the baby she got to help deliver that morning. "It's been so long since I've been this hands on with medicine, getting to know my patients and being involved in their lives."

Beside me, Rhiannon mumbles, "well hopefully they'll put that kid's picture in the paper instead next time."

Everyone pretends they didn't hear her. No one has the energy to get into it all over again.

"I've only met a fraction of the people from Doctor William's practice so far. And I know some people have their own doctors elsewhere, but this role has made me feel like I'm part of a community again."

I'm happy for my mom, in a way. But I'm not sure why she chose this moment to announce just how thrilled she is with her life in Fairview. It's like she doesn't get when to quit.

The room falls silent all over again and I shovel a spoonful of mashed potatoes into my mouth. French fries and now this. It's been a fantastic day for me and potatoes in all their forms. n.o.body says anything and we're all probably counting down the seconds until dinner is finished and we can go to our own corners of the house to get a break from one another.

"Well, I have an announcement," Reece says putting down her fork, clinking it against her plate. "Since I can't do the soccer thing this year, I'm going to start volunteering. Some people at school were telling me that there's a small animal shelter in town. Fairview isn't really big enough to have one, but some millionaire or something founded it like twenty years ago, and now it serves a bunch of the towns in the areas. So they always have a few dogs and cats in there, all looking for homes. It's something I might do after school." She casts a quick glance to each of my parents. "If that's okay, I mean." I don't think anyone of us expects my parents to argue with Reece volunteering since it wasn't something any of us could ever expected to happen. It's not that she selfish, it's just that Reese's world exists in a tiny bubble around her. But the fact that she asked permission at all hints at just how badly she wants this, even if she's playing it off like it's not a big deal.

"That's great, sweetheart." Dad shoots a thumbs-up to her from across the table, and I stifle a groan. "Do you need anything from us? Permission slip?"

"No idea, I'm going in tomorrow to see if they even need any help. Who would say no to extra volunteers though, right?"

"That reminds me of something I learned today," I speak up. "Apparently to graduate high school here there are volunteering requirements. And some community involvement stuff. I didn't get the details, but n.o.body mentioned it to us when we enrolled."

"I forgot about that," Mom says, a glint of nostalgia in her eyes. "They did that when I was a teenager here too. By the time you graduated you needed to have at least forty hours of community service and have volunteered for at least two town festivals."

"Wait, there are festivals?" Reilly asks, looking weirdly excited by the whole idea.

"I'm not sure if there are festivals anymore," Mom answers. "But the town does a lot of events through the year. And a lot of fundraising. I'm sure you can each find something you're interested in. It's all part of the sense of community."

"I'm really not sure how anyone can call it volunteering when it's mandatory," I say, still not in love with any of this. As if moving to a new town and having to deal with cla.s.ses isn't enough, now I'm going to have to volunteer somewhere? The idea alone stresses me out. What kind of volunteering would involve the least amount of interacting with people? Reading to old people? Sorting donations somewhere?

"Why didn't anyone tell us but this earlier?" Rhiannon asks. She's already back on her phone, and I can only imagine that she was looking for the most prestigious volunteer opportunities available.

"I'm sure they're going to make allowances for the fact you girls came in late. At the very least, cutting down your community service hours by ten seems fair. One of you should talk to a guidance counselor at school, see what you can learn and if it's an issue, I'll give the school call and see what we can figure out."

"So is it ten hours a year, or just forty hours before we graduate?" Reilly asks. She was always the one getting involved in causes back in Virginia, even when she didn't have to. Somehow, she's excited about this. She'll probably do more like sixty hours if she can.

n.o.body knows the answer but I'm already convinced that if I don't have to do anything this year, then I'm going to put it off until Junior year at the earliest. The very earliest. This year is already spoken for on every level. And while I try to convince myself that I'll be putting this off because I want to better tailor my volunteer experiences to whatever field I decided I want to end up in, I know it has nothing to do with that. I'm just not interested right now. Which probably makes me a terrible person, but for now I'm going to avoid this issue and hope it goes away.