The other photo showed the same woman smiling into the camera, leaning against a pillow, clutching a small baby. “A rather ugly baby, with a pointy head,” Terra thought to herself, with a frown.
There was a small crumpled note in the envelope, but Terra didn’t open it. She held it in the palm of her hand for a moment, then suddenly shoved everything back in the envelope. Carefully, she slid the envelope back beneath the underwear.
three
Terra could feel her heart pounding against the walls of her chest. She bent over to take a deep breath, just in time to hear Ms. Brown, the gym teacher, bellow: “Keep moving, Terra, you’ve got to keep your heart rate up.”
Terra managed an insincere smile for the teacher and began to run. Finally, she came to the end of the track. Blaine lounged in her gym clothes on the bleachers.
“Hey. You don’t have to run?”
“Naw.” Blaine loudly smacked her gum. “I’ve got terrible cramps.”
Terra looked at her dubiously. The other girl looked cheerful enough.
Blaine grinned. Then, as if to demonstrate the point, she grabbed her stomach and moaned pathetically.
Terra blinked. “Ah. Does that work?”
Blaine shrugged philosophically. “Sorta. They used to make me run anyhow. So I took it up with the vice-principal.” She grinned. “I went crying to his office. He was very uncomfortable . . . Long story short: now I get gym class off once a month.” Blaine took out a little bottle and started painting her nails a bright red.
Ms. Brown frowned at them. “Blaine, are you doing that extra health homework?”
“Yeah, Ms. Brown.” Blaine patted the book on the bleacher beside her. “I’m working on it.”
The teacher looked like she wanted to say more. Instead she clapped her hands together. “Come on, Terra, one more lap!”
Blaine laughed softly. “See ya.”
Terra began running again.
A whistle blew shrilly. “Faster, Terra, faster,” urged Ms. Brown.
Terra thought she could hear the sound of laughter behind her.
The changeroom smelled. But it wasn’t so much the sweat and running shoes as the proliferation of perfumes, deodorants, gels and hairsprays that gave the girls’ changeroom its distinctive odour.
The sound of the girls’ chatter seemed to echo off the high ceiling, doubling its intensity. As the other girls moved out of the changeroom, the sudden silence seemed rather eerie.
Terra stuffed her gym clothes into her bag.
“Hey, there,” said a friendly voice.
Terra looked up, pleased. “Hi, Winter.”
“How’s it going?”
“I’m a bit worn out from running around the track.”
Winter sighed dramatically. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve got to look forward to.” She discarded her bright purple top for the standard gym jersey. “Too bad we’re not in the same class.”
“Ms. Brown is kind of tough, isn’t she?”
Winter pursed her lips. “Ah, I don’t know, she’s not so bad.” She grinned. “Maybe she likes you. Do you have . . .” Winter stressed the word, “potential”?
Terra laughed self-consciously and shook her head. “I’m not very good at sports.”
“Practice makes perfect. Well, sorta.” Winter smiled, wiggled into her purple running shoes. “I’d better get going. See ya around, Terra.” She waved and headed into the gym.
“Yeah, see you,” Terra echoed.
As Terra heaved her books into the bottom of her locker, she was surprised to see Blaine plop down on the floor beside her. “Heya.”
“Hi.” The other girl seemed to have warmed to her a bit, but Terra wasn’t quite sure what to make of her.
“Whatcha doing?”
“Um, just getting ready for home.”
“You gotta go there right away?”
“No-o,” Terra answered slowly. “Not really. Why?”
Blaine shrugged. “I like to hang out in the park.”
“Oh,” said Terra uncertainly. A park sounded nice, didn’t it?
“Well, uh, can I come?”
“Whatever. I don’t care.” And Blaine started off down the hall.
What? Terra stared, perplexed. But she quickly grabbed her homework, shut the locker and ran after Blaine.
“Hey look!” Terra pointed to a small brown animal, standing on its back legs, its head tilted curiously. It watched as the girls approached, then suddenly dashed into a hole.
Blaine gave her an odd look. “Uh . . . yeah? You’ve never seen a gopher before?”
“Oh, is that what it is? Yeah, I’ve seen a few of them since we got to Alberta. They’re really cute.”
“Heh. A lot of people here don’t like them very much.”
“Really? Why not?”
She shrugged. “They make holes and wreck lawns and gardens . . . I don’t know. I don’t care. Didn’t you have gophers in—where did you say you were from?”
“Ottawa. I don’t think so . . . we had a lot of groundhogs, though. I haven’t seen any here . . . do you have them?”
Blaine shrugged. “What do they look like?”
“Well, they’re bigger and fatter. Sort of rabbit-sized. They get hit by cars a lot, on the highway.”
“Oh yeah? Cool,” grinned Blaine.
“Blaine!” exclaimed Terra, indignant.
“Oh. Uh . . . yeah, that’s too bad, I mean.”
“I think your rabbits are bigger, though.”
“Huh?”
“I mean I’ve seen some big . . . well, what we’d call jackrabbits, but not bunnies. Don’t you have bunnies here?”
Blaine chuckled. “Heh, bunnies.”
The two girls tramped through the grass then curled up under a big tree.
Blaine pulled out a bottle of polish and went to work on her nails. She didn’t seem to want to talk much, although Terra tried to start up a conversation.
“Have you lived in Inglewood long?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
Terra tried again. “So . . . do you like it?”
“Uh . . . whatever.”
Terra nodded. “Oh. Um . . . I just moved here.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
Blaine blew on her nails to dry them.
Terra leaned back against the tree, looking around the big park.
A