 It started with a feather. One little white rounded feather resting on her pillow. Ava didn’t think much of it, though, considering that it was a bright Sunday morning and there were only three weeks left of school and in just over a month she would turn thirteen and the whole summer stretched out before her like a long, shimmering gift. She jumped out of bed, letting the feather blow to the ground, where it landed on the dark wood floor and, after skittering a few inches in the faint breeze, came to a stop. Any passerby might have thought it was a bit of fur and indeed the cat, Monique, eyed it suspiciously as she slinked past Ava’s room and to the kitchen.
Ava stepped over it as she rushed to her bathroom, to the big mirror. She’d spent the day before lying in the backyard on a towel and hoped that for once her skin might have turned tan and smooth, like Jennifer Halverson’s, who, with her sun-drenched blond hair and brown skin, looked like she spent her whole life at the beach even though she lived right smack in the middle of Pennsylvania like the rest of them. Ava half expected to have turned blond and dark-skinned herself overnight, but there she was, staring back at herself, the same as ever. Pale, though now more pink than white, and dark-haired, with navy blue eyes. Boring. She sighed and turned away.
Ava Gardner looks, her grandmother called them. Like the old-time movie star. Women used to walk around with umbrellas to have skin as beautiful as yours. Ava would roll her eyes. “That was like a thousand years ago,” she’d say. When she looked in the mirror, it was like a ghost girl looking out.
But this morning was too beautiful for a little paleness to ruin it. Summer was almost here! The windows were wide open and the air smelled like grass and flowers and trees. The white curtains on her windows fluttered in the breeze, which felt warm and wonderful against her skin. Not too hot, just warm enough.
She clicked on her computer and saw that Morgan was already on IM. “Ready to go?” she typed. “We can work on our tans before anyone else gets there!”
“Sure,” MORGANISAWESOME typed back. “Come’n get me!”
“Be there in 10!”
Ava pulled off her nightshirt and shimmied into her new bathing suit, which she’d been saving. It was the first day her friends and classmates would be going to the lake, where they’d spend the rest of the summer hanging out, day after long blissful day. Ava loved it down there: the trees hanging over the water, the canoes and paddleboats whirring in the distance, the long line of beach, and of course the old carousel next to the stands selling flavored ice and lemonade. She could hardly wait. And she knew that Jeff Jackson would be there—she’d heard him and all his friends planning it the week before.
Even thinking about him here, alone in her room, made her blush.
She wondered what Jeff would think when he saw her in her new suit. Nervously, she examined herself in the mirror, twisting this way and that, worrying that he’d think her stomach wasn’t flat enough, that her thighs were too big. She had to admit that the suit looked good on her, that the red was striking against her long dark hair.
Lately, she was sure that Jeff had started noticing her. He’d smiled at her in the hallway last week, and she hadn’t been able to focus on anything for hours after. But of course she was far too shy to talk to him. In her imagination, though, she’d smiled back and leaned on a locker alluringly. “Going to the lake this weekend?” she’d asked, giving him a wink. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”
Now she shook her head and pulled on some shorts and a t-shirt, grabbed her bag and some flip flops. She should be a little more brave, she thought. After all, she was about to be a teenager.
“Dad, I’m ready!” she called out, rushing to the kitchen to grab a banana and a granola bar.
No answer.
“Dad!”
Monique stood by the kitchen window and even she ignored Ava, glancing over her shoulder once and then turning back to the hummingbird fluttering about the birdfeeder outside.
Ava rolled her eyes and stomped down to the basement. Her father would be in his workroom, of course. If he wasn’t teaching or out in the creek fishing, he was there. She couldn’t understand how he could pass hours happily sitting in one spot, making bamboo fishing rods by hand. But he loved it—working with wood, putting together rods and lures that he’d give away or use to fish in the creek. They didn’t even eat the fish he caught! Her dad could spend all day catching fish after fish and then tossing them back into the water. What was the point?
Crazy.
“Dad!”
She rushed down the stairs. Loud jazz was playing behind his shut door. She banged on it, then pushed in.
“Dad!”
His head shot up in surprise, and he looked even more out of sorts than ever, with his wild salt-and-pepper hair and crooked glasses, a mess of bamboo spread out in front of him on the table. The room smelled like wood and varnish.
“Are you trying to give your dad a heart attack?” he asked.
“Your music was on. And you promised to take me and Morgan to the lake.”
“What time is it?”
“Ten am. The sun is shining, and I should be outside. So should you!”
“Ten am already, huh?” He sighed and grabbed the car keys lying on the table. As he stood, his hand reached out to grab something floating down in the air.
“What’s this?” he asked. He opened his palm. One white feather with blood on the tip. He looked at it and then up at her, his face suddenly worried.
Ava shrugged. “How would I know? You’re the one who spends your whole life down here in the dark. Come on Dad, we’re late!”
“Okay, okay,” he said, placing the feather on the table and turning to the door. “Let’s go, earlybird.”
Her heart pounded with excitement as they drove to Morgan’s house. Morgan was waiting outside, her bright pink towel rolled up and sticking out of her tote bag. She ran down to the car, all long red hair and freckles and gangling legs and arms, and bounced into the back seat.
Morgan was Ava’s best friend, even though she could be embarrassing with her loud laugh and sometimes—well, oftentimes—spastic behavior. But they had been best friends since nursery school and there was no turning back now. Plus, Morgan was the funniest girl in school.
The drive to the lake was beautiful, as they left their little college town and headed into the countryside, where the roads turned narrow and windy and everything was bright green and charming little cabins popped up on the side of the road. They crossed mountains that looked over entire valleys coated in a morning mist. Finally, they turned down the gravel lane that led into the lake parking lot.
The girls gathered their things and Ava assured her father that she’d be home by dinnertime, that Morgan’s mother would be picking them up in the afternoon.
“What are you doing today, Dad?” she asked, feeling suddenly guilty for leaving him alone. He was alone so often.
“I think I might head to the creek, do some fishing,” he said. “Get a little sun.” He made a face at her.
“Maybe you should go out with some friends or something,” she said. “I hear some people actually like that kind of thing. Friends and stuff.”
“Ha ha. Now off with you both.”
Ava watched after him as he drove away and then she and Morgan rushed down to the lake. She tried to walk as calmly as she could, aware at every moment that Jeff could be there already. She scanned the beach, which was not yet full of people the way she knew it would be later. She and Morgan were the first ones there from their school. A smattering of other people were setting out towels and picnic baskets.
They set down their bags and towels in a prime spot, close to the water, and stripped down to their bathing suits.
As Ava started rubbing herself with tanning lotion, Morgan pulled out a huge pair of pink, heart-shaped sunglasses and put them on. “I’m sorry, my friend, but you are glowing,” she said.
“I laid out yesterday!”
“You’re supposed to lay out in the sun, dummy.”
“I did, you dork. And look how white you are, too.”
“I’m a redhead, I’m supposed to be the color of porcelain. Like Nicole Kidman.”
“Whatever. Your glasses are stupid. They clash with your hair.”
“Stupid awesome, maybe.”
Ava sighed loudly and lay back on the towel. “Well. Don’t come crying to me when you get heart-shaped tan lines on your face.”
They both broke into giggles. The sun beat down, already making them sweat.
“I wish it could stay summer forever,” Morgan said, after a few minutes.
“Me, too.”
“Let’s move to California.”
“Okay. We can be movie stars there.”
“And have a pool.”
“And a convertible.”
Ava closed her eyes and pictured the two of them riding around in a convertible with scarves around their necks, blowing kisses as people waved at them from the streets. Jennifer Halverson would come running up for an autograph and Ava would push down her sunglasses and ask, “Do I know you?” Of course Jeff Jackson would be in the car with them and he wouldn’t remember her either.
“Let’s swim a little,” Morgan said, after a while.
“Okay,” Ava answered, reluctantly coming out of her reverie. The beach was much more crowded now. Towels and bodies were spread out in every direction.
They headed to the water, and Ava broke into a run. She never felt more happy or free than she did here. It was summer, finally! The lake was a dark, beautiful blue. Morgan dashed ahead of her.
“It’s freezing!” Morgan called as she plunked her foot into the lake.
Ava didn’t care. The cold never bothered her. She dove straight in, and, as always, it was like entering another world. All the sounds went mute, the smells went away, and the world turned hushed and dark. She smiled into the water as she pushed forward. Twisting around, moving onto her back and her sides, coming up for air and then pushing back under. There were people all around and yet she couldn’t have felt more alone than she did then. But in the best possible way.
She pushed her head above water again and swam out to the buoys. In the distance, a line of trees, like fringe, reached up to the sky.
And then behind her, laughter.
She turned.
Morgan was standing in the water laughing, talking to him. Jeff Jackson. Tall and manly. Well, maybe not manly, but surely the only boy in seventh grade who was almost as tall as her father, with broad shoulders, a dimpled chin, and bright blond hair.
He caught her eye and without thinking she immediately ducked her head underwater. Wishing she could hide away.
Then she realized how stupid she looked.
She wanted to disappear at the bottom of the lake. Why did she always have to be so dorky? Why couldn’t she act like the girl in her fantasies?
She squeezed her eyes shut and played a movie in her head of what she should have done: smiled at him elegantly, tossing her hair like Jennifer Halverson was always doing. Doesn’t the water feel divine, Jeffrey, she might have asked as she walked toward him, shaking her hips back and forth like an old-time movie actress.
Then she imagined what was happening right now. Lord knows what embarrassing things Morgan was telling him while she hid in the lake.
Suddenly she desperately needed more air. She shot her head above the water and immediately started to cough and heave.
Jeff and Morgan were standing right there watching her.
“Smooth move, ex-lax,” Morgan said, as if Ava wasn’t horrified enough.
But Jeff was just smiling at her. The sun shining behind his head made his hair glow, as if he’d dropped straight down from heaven.
“Hey do you want to get a lemonade with me?” he asked.
Before she could stop herself, she turned around to make sure he was really asking her, Ava Lewis, to go and get a lemonade with him.
“He means you,” Morgan hissed.
Ava stared at him, stunned. He’d never spoken to her before. For a moment she thought this might be some kind of practical joke. A few months before a few of the popular kids had gotten together and told poor Beth Martin that Ian Fraser wanted to “go with her.” Everyone knew that Beth was madly in love with Ian. Beth said yes right away and went up to Ian, who actually laughed when Beth called him her boyfriend. Beth had cried and gone home early. It was awful.
But this was Jeff Jackson in the flesh and he didn’t seem to be joking.
She stared at him so long he started to smile, then break into laughter. “Come on, it’s just a lemonade,” he said. “I won’t kidnap you, I promise.”
“Okay,” she croaked. Her face burned with embarrassment. She was such a dork.
She glanced back at Morgan as they walked away together, who smiled and gave her the thumbs up sign. Ava quickly looked away.
Jeff was as smooth and relaxed as ever, striding beside her. They passed a group of the popular girls, who must have all just arrived, and she could feel them eyeing her. Especially Jennifer Halverson, who did not look at all happy. Ava walked with her chin up, trying not to think about them all staring at her—not only walking with Jeff Jackson but in a bathing suit no less. She sucked in her stomach.
“I never really talked to Morgan before,” Jeff said. “She’s pretty funny.”
“Yeah,” she said. She tried to think of something to add but her mind went pathetically blank. It always went blank when she needed to say something important.
“She says you live alone with your dad, who’s some kind of professor?”
“Yeah.”
“My dad is, too. That’s what I want to be, a professor.”
“Of what?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe bugs.”
“Bugs?”
“Yeah, I love them. I collect beetles.”
“Oh.”
Fortunately, they walked up to the lemonade stand right then, so Ava didn’t have to say anything about his gross collecting habits.
“Two lemonades,” Jeff said, pulling out a five-dollar bill.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the drink. She took a sip, and it was like drinking candy. She smiled at him happily.
“You want to walk over to the carousel?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said, wondering if he was going to start looking for beetles. She thought if he did, she might die.
The music from the ride, old-timey and tinny, was blaring from the old wooden structure. It was one of Ava’s favorite places in the world. Even with all the disgusting bug talk, she couldn’t imagine anything better than this moment, right now. Summer was here, and she was drinking a lemonade by the carousel with the cutest boy in school.
That is when she noticed a weird kind of itching on her arms. She tried to scratch them nonchalantly as they walked over to the multi-colored carousel animals bobbing up and down.
“My favorite is the deer with the antlers and jewel eyes,” she said, to distract him.
“Where?”
She turned, shifting her back to him and furiously scratching her arm, and pointed. “That one.”
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I like that one. But my favorite is the lion.” And then he gave her a funny look. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Like what?” she asked, dropping her arms and turning back to him with wide eyes. It was a look she’d practiced in the mirror. Wide eyes, like Marilyn Monroe.
“Um, I think you’re like bleeding or something. In back.”
The carousel spun around and around, flashing its lights. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jennifer and her friends approaching.
Bleeding? She felt the oddest sensation then, a prickling across her arms and shoulders, down her back. As if she’d gotten tangled up in brambles in the forest. And then she started to itch all over.
“Are you okay?”
She tried to stammer an answer, but just made a strange strangled sound instead. She wanted to scratch herself everywhere. What was happening to her? She thought about Lucy Spiegel, how she’d spent a whole day last year walking around school with her skirt tucked into her underwear. And now here Ava was, standing in front of everyone in her new bathing suit, with some hideous thing happening to her body that she couldn’t even see. Her mind spun in horror.
Before it got any worse, she turned and ran. Past the lemonade stand, past Jennifer and her friends, past the beginning of the beach line and over to the bathrooms. Her skin prickling and itching. She touched her arms as she ran, and felt little bumps that hadn’t been there before. Thankfully, the girl’s room was empty and she rushed inside and slammed the door shut.
Scratching furiously, she peered into the mirror at her own horrified face and then at her arms and shoulders, the strange bumps she’d felt under her fingers. As if… something was growing from her skin.
Just then, another feather drifted into the air. Bright white, like the one in her father’s workroom.
Was it coming from… her? It seemed her body was always playing tricks on her nowadays. Everything growing, changing, becoming monstrous and gross and strange…
Outside, someone started banging on the door. “Are you okay, Ava?” It was Morgan. “Ava, what’s going on? Why’d you run away like that? He’s gonna think you’re crazy.”
She moved right next to the door and pressed her lips to the crack.
“Morgan,” she said, whispering as loudly as she could. “Can you bring me my cell and my clothes?”
“What’s going on? Ava you’re being crazy!”
“Just bring them! Please!”
“Okay, okay. You know, other people need to get in here.”
“Then hurry! Run!!”
All she wanted now was to get out of there. Get back to her pretty white room and shut the door. Then she could cry as much as she wanted to. All she had to do was hold herself together till then.
A few minutes later, Morgan was back, yelling for Ava to open the door.
Ava opened it a crack, grabbed her clothes and phone, and then pushed it shut again. “Just give me a minute!” she yelled, slipping back into her clothes and trying to dial her father at the same time.
He answered on the first ring. “What is it?”
“Dad,” she said. “Please come get me. Right away.”
To her surprise, he didn’t ask any questions. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes,” he said. “Will you be okay until then?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Then wait for me in the parking lot.”
They hung up, and she looked once more into the mirror, ignoring Morgan and other voices now, just outside the door.
Other than her watery, terrified eyes, she looked normal.
A normal almost-thirteen-year-old who couldn’t stop scratching her weird, pale, not-even-slightly-tan skin.
She slipped on her t-shirt and shorts, then opened the door and left the bathroom. An angry woman pushed past her inside.
“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, her face pained. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Ava said. She felt bad for her friend, who was so worried, but what could she say to her? She had no idea what was wrong. All she wanted to do was curl up and die. “I just want to go home.”
“Okay.” Morgan reached out and hugged her, and Ava hugged her back. “I’ll tell Jeff you only freak out like a loonytunes on Sundays.”
Ava smiled. Morgan was a good best friend even if she was a huge dork. “I’ll text you later.”
Her father raced into the parking lot like an ambulance driver, looking visibly relieved to find Ava all in one piece.
“What’s going on?” he asked, as she slipped into the car. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine!” she said, folding her arms and turning to the window.
“You’re fine?”
She held back tears. “Dad, please! I just need to go home!”
He looked at her and sighed. “Ava, don’t you find this behavior a little odd? Are you trying to give your old dad a heart attack?”
“You’re not that old,” she lied, leaning her forehead against the glass. In the distance, she could see Jeff and his friends. They were probably all talking about what a complete spazz she was. “Dad, can we just go, please?”
“We’re going, we’re going,” he said, pulling back onto the country road that led to the lake.
After an excruciating ride with her nosy father, Ava ran into her room and closed the door, then pulled off her t-shirt and shorts and bathing suit. A cluster of feathers—tiny ones, little baby feathers—fell to the floor, bloody at the tips.
She looked down at it, then turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder.
Her skin looked strange and jagged and bumpy, but soft, too. Kind of magical. She looked more closely and gasped. There were tiny little feathers all across her back, as if she were some kind of winged animal. They were sprouting all over her back now, across her shoulders and down her upper arms. Some were fully formed feathers, some just the tips, pressing out. And all over, she tingled and itched.
And Jeff had seen!
She pressed started rubbing her palms down her arms, trying to find some relief.
It was too much. Ava moved away from the mirror, lay on her side on the bed.
Monique was curled up by the pillow and Ava pulled her to her chest, but the cat wriggled out of her arms just as another feather wafted into the air. Monique leapt up and swatted at it, watching with fascination as it drifted to the floor.
For a few minutes Ava just lay there. Then she reached out and picked up the photo of her mother that she kept on the nightstand. A black and white photo of her staring into the camera. Impossibly beautiful, with inky black eyes and long pale hair.
“Mama,” Ava whispered, letting go, letting tears roll down her face. “Please. Come back.”
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