Alison Cherry - Shes the Liar

The minute my parents leave me alone in my empty dorm room, I stand very still, close my eyes, and let myself disappear.

Just like Ive been practicing, I concentrate on my top layer of anxiety first, willing it to waft away like campfire smoke. I force myself to forget that Ive never been away from home for more than two nights in a row, that I dont even know where the bathrooms are, let alone the dining hall or any of my classrooms. I let go of the fact that after dinner, my parents are leaving me here at Brookside Academy and driving two whole hours home, across the Vermont state line and back into Massachusetts. I tell myself Im not nervous to share this room with a complete stranger, a mysterious sixth grader named Christina who has literally five times as many shoes as I do.

When all the surface-level jitters are gone, I reach down deeper and focus on the shyness that has spent so many years wrapped around my bones. I unwind the tendrils that keep me from raising my hand in class even when I know the answers. I find the Abby who sits alone at lunch, nose buried in a book so no one will talk to her, and I let her wither away to ashes. I breathe out the impossibility of making friends with any of my brand-new classmates and breathe in clean, fresh air.

And when Abby is nothing more than a light, empty shell, I let Abbi climb inside me and make herself at home in my skin.

When I open my eyes, I am an entirely different person. Abbi pulls Abbys hunched shoulders back and weaves her tangled hair into a neat side-braid, leaving her face exposed. When I look in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door, I see Abbis straight spine, the lift of her chin, the way her hands tuck casually into her pockets like theyre resting, not hiding. For all anyone at Brookside knows, Ive always been Abbi, confident and relaxed. Theyll never know theyre looking at the girl who cried in front of the whole school during the third-grade talent show, who accepted zeroes on presentations after that because she couldnt bear to stand in front of a class and face the pity in twenty-five pairs of eyes.

Im ready to begin my brand-new life.

Turning into Abbi gives me energy, and I start unpacking. Before my parents went to drop Sydney off at her dorm, Mom helped me make my bed with my new green sheets and duvet with the leaf pattern, but all my clothes are still in boxes. I rip open the top one and start unloading my Abbi outfits and Brookside uniforms. Abbi wears colorful shirts printed with stripes and polka dots and stars when shes not in her kilt and blazer. Shes not trying to hide. She even has a few dresses. I stuff all my too-big Abby sweatshirts with the stretched-out sleeves into the back of my bottom drawer, behind my pajama pants. I like knowing theyre here, but I dont ever plan on bringing them out.

Theres a corkboard hanging over my bed, a group of clear pushpins clustered in the corner. Christinas board is already covered in picturesa few family photos, a couple of shots of little kids, and a whole bunch of pictures of girls holding tennis rackets, their arms slung casually around one anothers shoulders. I dont have any photos to hang, so I tack up a few of the paintings I did this summer: one abstract with swirls of red and orange and gold, another of stark winter trees and flying birds. I hope people will think Im artistic and mysterious when they see them and not realize I just dont have any friends to photograph.

A key clicks in the lock, and the way my heart jumps into my throat makes my Abbi facade waver like water rippling around a skipped stone. But I breathe slowly and remind myself that Christina doesnt know a single thing about me. She wont ever know anything besides what I choose to tell her. I can be whoever I want here.

The door swings open, and a short girl with a heart-shaped face, light brown skin, and curly black hair takes one step into the room, then freezes at the sight of me. All those shoes made me think shed be super glamorous, way too cool for me, but she looks totally normal. Actually, to be honest, she looks kind of terrified.

Oh! she says. I didnt know you were I guess youre my Are you Abby? She immediately starts blushing. I mean, I guess you must be, or why would you be in here, right?

Her deer-in-the-headlights expression makes me feel calmer. The more flustered she is, the more collected Ill seem. Yes, Im Abbi. Hi. I hold out my hand to her, which feels totally weirdIve never shaken hands with someone my age, or maybe anyone at all. But it seems like something Abbi would do, so I commit to it and force my arm not to tremble.

The girl stares at me, then rushes over and grips my fingers for a second. Her hands are freezing cold and slightly damp. Im Christina, she says. Ha, I guess you knew that already. I hope you dont care that I took the right side? I share with my sister at home and I mean, I was hoping She lets the sentence trail off and finishes with a shrug.

I like the left side, I say.

Oh good, she says, obviously relieved. She plops down on her bed, picks up the stuffed octopus by her pillow like shes considering hiding it, then puts it down again. Are your parents still here? Mine had to Um, my grandparents came with us, and they had to They left already. She digs the toes of her bright blue sandals into the nubbly industrial carpet.

Mine are still here, I say. Theyre helping my sister move in across campus. Shes in eighth grade.

Christinas eyes widen. You have a sister here? Oh wow. Did she You probably know how everything works here already.

I dont know how anything worksSydney has never offered any information, and I dont intend to ask her for it. Actually I plan to make sure our paths cross as little as possible. First of all, shes the only one at Brookside who knows the old me, and I refuse to let Abby crop up and ruin all my plans. And second of all, Syds not exactly the friendliest person in the world, so I dont want my name attached to hers before people get to know me. Im pretty sure Mom and Dad thought sending us to the same boarding school would make us closer, but if I have anything to say about it, that is definitely not going to happen. Considering the fact that Sydney barely talked to me even when we lived at home, I think shed agree.

But Christina doesnt need to know any of that, so I shrug one shoulder and smile. Hopefully it looks modest.

Youre so lucky, Christina says. She pulls the octopus into her lap and winds one of the tentacles around her hand. Are you guys, like, best friends?

No, I say. Were into different stuff. I dont know how Syd spends her time at Brookside, but before she went, she mostly hid in her bedroom, reading about space and doing a million extra-credit assignments even though she was getting all As. For a long time, her only friends were her Dungeons & Dragons group, and then I guess she had a falling out with them when she was in sixth grade, and Mom and Dad decided boarding school might be a healthier environment for her for seventh and eighth grades. I still dont know exactly what happened; when I asked, Syd told me to leave her alone.

Christina nods. So, do you think youll do any clubs or sports or anything?

At my old school I was in Art Club, a safe, quiet place where I could work on my own projects and never speak to anyone. But I feel like maybe I could do something bigger now that Im here. Im not sure yet, I say. Ill go to the activities fair and see what I think. Im not ready to commit to anything yet. How about you?