got to get back,” I say, and my voice trails off. Because, in reality, I’ve got nothing to do. “Guess I need some ‘me’ time.”
“Sure,” Hayes says. “You should get some rest before the party.”
“I told you, I’m not going to—”
“Just come,” Hayes says. “I want to see how you look in your new clothes.”
“And what else do you have to do, anyway?” Madison asks.
She has a point. Besides bonding with Miss Lee’s neurotic cat, all I can think of doing is reading a book. Which is great, of course, but I’ve been doing that a lot lately.
“All right,” I say. “But strictly for sociological reasons. Not, you know, to get drunk and stuff.”
“Of course not,” Madison says. “God forbid you actually have fun like normal people.”
“We’ll drive you back,” Hayes says.
“No, it’s cool. I’ll walk.”
“With those bags?”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, bending over to stuff the new clothes into my backpack.
“Oh my God,” Madison says, turning away. “I feel sick. Please tell me Damien’s not seeing this.”
“It’s okay. See? All gone,” I say.
The sun has moved behind a cloud, and the city lies before me. Ever since my mom died, I get like this sometimes—overcome with the desire to be alone. “Hey, thanks again. That wasn’t so bad, and Doctors Without Borders is probably really grateful.”
“You should have let us spend more money, then,” Madison says, almost merrily. Hard to tell.
“We’ll pick you up at eight thirty,” Hayes calls. I wave, then fade into Savannah’s beckoning maze of one-way streets.
8
Savannah was founded in 1733 by James Oglethorpe, a dashing young colonist from England. According to the book my grandmother gave me, he chose this particular site because it was a little bit inland, on high ground, and it could be easily defended. Basically, that means we’re far enough from the ocean to be mind-blowingly hot but close enough to the coast to be humid enough to suck all the water from your body after a two-block walk. Oh, and then there are the swarms of mosquitoes that come up from the swamp. Smooth move, Ogles.
Still, no matter how grumpy and homesick I may be, I gotta say it’s a pretty freakin’ charming place. The city is laid out in a grid of pretty squares that start at the river and end at Forsyth Park. Each one has its own style and is graced by huge trees and benches where people sit and do nothing. It’s not that people here are lazy, exactly; it’s just literally too hot to move. Unless, that is, it’s early in the morning or late at night. Once I got up super early, and all sorts of people were in the park running around and doing jumping jacks. Trust me, Savannah’s also got its share of crazies. That particular morning I spotted a man in a purple ball gown on roller skates. There’s also a Willie Nelson look-alike who cruises around town with a big radio on his bike. I’ve been here for two and a half weeks, so by now I have my favorite spots: the best place to watch tourists get hustled is Chippewa Square; Whitefield Square has a really nice gazebo; and the back of Colonial Park Cemetery is a safe place to smoke pot, because it’s usually pretty empty.
On days this blazing hot, the best way home is not always the shortest but the route that provides the deepest and most consistent tree coverage. Weaving back and forth between Bull, Barnard, and Whitaker, I pause on Jones, noticing a narrow opening between two old, decrepit houses. I slip down the alley and find a high-walled, untended garden next to what looks to be an abandoned house covered in flowering vines. Weeds and ivy run wild over the ground, and at the end of a path paved with cool old bluestone sit two wrought-iron benches by a weathered brick wall.
I settle on one of the benches and take out my book. This week it’s Jane Eyre, the one novel on the school summer reading list I haven’t already read. Thoughts so far: Edward is hot, but a total nightmare. And what is with this banshee in the attic?
“Alexandria?”
Jumping so high I almost fall off my bench, I turn to see a seriously hot African-American man standing in the entranceway wearing blue sunglasses, Levi’s, Converse All-Stars, and a soft, formfitting T-shirt.
“Yeah?” I say.
When he takes off his glasses, I note that this guy is one of the best-looking people I’ve ever seen. Maybe