"Jimmy was weird," she insisted. "Everyone said so."
"He was shy and gentle and loving. He wasn't weird. He was just afraid, that's all. Afraid of not being accepted by a school full of snobs." I couldn't stand talking about Jimmy this way, acting as if he were dead. That made me more angry than the things she was saying.
"Why are you defending him so strongly? He wasn't really your brother," she retorted. Then she embraced herself and shook her head. "It must have been horrible and disgusting, like being forced to live with strangers."
"No, it wasn't. Momma and Daddy were always—"
"They weren't your momma and daddy," she snapped. "Don't call them that. Call them wh
at they were—kidnappers, baby snatchers!"
I looked away, the tears stinging behind my eyes. I wouldn't let her see me cry, but what could I say? She was right, and she enjoyed driving the nails of ridicule into me.
"The worst thing of all was you and Philip," she said grimacing and twisting her mouth as if she had gulped castor oil. "No wonder he sat alone, sulking. He felt so dirty and stupid wanting to be his sister's boyfriend. And everybody knew!" She grimaced again, her face much chubbier than mine, ballooning in the cheeks. We shared hair color and eyes, but our mouths and our figures were so different.
"He can't be blamed for something he didn't know," I said softly. How long would we have to make excuses and defend our actions? I wondered. Who else would bring it up here?
"So what? It was still disgusting. How far did you two go?" she asked, stepping closer again. "You might as well tell me. Besides, I warned you about Philip, so I won't be surprised by anything you say. I'm your sister now, and you don't have anyone else you can trust," she added and swung her eyes to me. They were full of expectation.
I stared at her. Could I ever trust her? Did she mean it? She saw the hesitation in my face.
"I'm glad Mrs. Boston brought you all my old clothing," she said. "I'd much rather you have it than throw it out or give it to the help. And I'm sorry about the things I did to you," she added quietly, "but I didn't know who you were, and I didn't think it was right then that Philip should like you so much. I must have had a prem . . . prem . . ."
"Premonition?"
"Yes," she said. "Thank you. I know you're smart and I'm glad." She pushed aside some of the clothing and sat on my bed. "So, you can tell me," she said, her face lighting with anticipation. "I know he took you to his favorite spot. You must have kissed and kissed, right?"
"Not exactly, no," I said, sitting down beside her. Maybe it would be wonderful to have a sister close to my age, I thought. Maybe I could forgive her for all the terrible things she had done, and we could learn to really get to like each other and share thoughts and dreams as well as clothes and other things. I had always wanted a sister near my age. Girls needed other girls to confide in.
She looked at me with inquisitive eyes, urging me on with her soft, sympathetic look.
"Was Philip your first boyfriend?" she asked.
I nodded.
"I haven't had a real boyfriend yet," she said.
"Oh, you will. You're a very pretty girl."
"I know that," she said, shaking her head. "It's not that I couldn't have a boyfriend. There have been a number who have wanted to be, but I didn't like any one enough, And none of them were as nice as Philip or as good-looking as he is. All my friends have crushes on him and were jealous of you."
"I thought so," I said.
"You know Louise had a terrible crush on Jimmy." She laughed. "I found this love letter she wrote to him but never had the nerve to mail. It was full of 'I love you' and 'You're the nicest boy I have ever met and the best-looking.' And she even wrote love words in French! I stole it and showed it to all the other girls."
"You shouldn't have done that. It must have been painful for her," I said. She blinked her eyes quickly and sat back on her hands.
"She's a freak anyway. You were the only one who ever paid her any attention. And anyway," she said, sitting up, "I used the letter to make her do things, like spy on you and get her to cooperate when we sprayed you with that stuff,"
"It was a horrible trick, Clara Sue, no matter how much you didn't like me."
She shrugged.
"I said I was sorry. Look, you ruined one of my best coats," she retorted. "I had to throw it out."
"You threw it out? Why didn't you just clean it?"
"What for?" She smiled slyly. "It's easier to get Daddy to buy me a new one. I just told him someone stole it, and he sent me money for a new one." She sat forward eagerly. "But let's forget about all that and talk about Philip and you. What else did you two do besides kiss?"