The Suburban Strange Read Online Free PDF Page A

of hands, torsos, dancers in motion, but Celia spent most of her time drawing faces. Her greatest talent was in capturing the life in someone’s eyes, the subtleties of a facial expression.
    “These are brilliant.” Regine looked up at her. She spoke carefully, as though she had rehearsed what she said next. “You know, when I look at these and then I look at you, it’s hard to imagine them coming from you. You take such care with them, and your attention to detail is so perfect. Do you ever think of doing the same thing for yourself?”
    That had been Regine’s coded invitation to make Celia her project, and Celia had deciphered it easily and accepted it gratefully. She was completely enthralled with Regine, who offered answers to questions Celia hadn’t been quite able to articulate. Regine made it clear she wasn’t out to clone herself. She gave Celia all sorts of options and let Celia choose. Had Celia ever thought about bangs, or wearing a ribbon as a headband? Had she ever considered wearing deep colors against her fair skin? Had she ever worn jewelry? In the weeks before school started Celia found a new sense of herself by investing more in her appearance. She thought she was developing a new style, then admitted that perhaps she was developing a style for the first time. It was a dark style, probably inevitable with Regine as her mentor. It felt sophisticated. And, Celia realized with pleasant surprise, it was somewhat bold. Clothes stopped being something in which to hide. Now they were something in which to be seen.
    “I told my friends about you,” Regine said as she worked systematically through Celia’s closet and drawers, rejecting almost all of Celia’s clothes as too big, too worn, too bright, or too boring. “I think they’ll like you, too, and maybe you can be a part of our group.”
    “What kind of group?” Celia watched her vagabond wardrobe pile up on the bed. She was not sorry to see any of it go and only wondered what she was going to wear once it was all gone. Already she was living almost exclusively in a black T-shirt and the one pair of jeans Regine had deemed acceptable. Celia felt practically naked in the little cap-sleeved tee she had worn only as an undershirt before then. But one of the first things Regine made clear was that no matter what Celia wore, it had to fit her properly, not envelop her like a cocoon. Slowly Celia was becoming more comfortable revealing the shape of her long, slender body.
    “There are five of us who like a lot of the same music and the same style. During school we do almost everything together. This is nice.” Regine examined a black pencil skirt she pulled from the closet. Celia didn’t recognize it. She guessed it was her mother’s, put there by accident. The moment Regine left, she would try it on. “And this”—Regine set aside an orange floral dress Celia had worn to a party under duress from her mother—“this we’ll keep for a special occasion.” Celia couldn’t guess why such a garish dress had made it through Regine’s harsh triage. “We are definitely going to have to go shopping, and I’ll lend you some things until we get your wardrobe in order.” Regine smiled at her. “We’re all juniors or seniors, but I think we’ll enjoy having a protégé.”
    Celia hadn’t needed to hear any more. She just hoped Regine’s friends would be as nice to her. It was a risk she was willing to take, regardless. No one ever had made such an offer to Celia, and for all she knew, such an offer might never come again. The summer class had ended, and Celia’s steadfast drawing habit relaxed its grip on her life just a little as the school year approached. Her initiation into Regine’s music and dark sense of style was the new focus of her days and her new dream at night.
     
    THE HOMEROOM TEACHER ARRIVED , bells rang, and the room became a focused hive of activity. There was no more time for Celia to reminisce, avoiding the reality of the