After we left my house that night, Elise never brought up what she’d witnessed. She didn’t ask about my parents, or look at me the way Melody would whenever I deflected questions about my family, like she was worried about me, like maybe she pitied me.
That’s what I loved the most about Elise from those first days. She made me feel safe. She understood what it was like, having to keep part of yourself hidden.
At school, we discovered we only had two classes together. I gravitated toward her in both and sat next to her, sharing small, secret smiles. We walked to lunch together after fourth period World History and I tugged her along to Melody’s table.
“This is Elise,” I said, sitting down and dropping my backpack onto the floor. “She just moved here.” I introduced Elise to Melody and two other friends, Danielle and Anjali. They were really Melody’s friends, and the three of them did almost everything together—all honors and APs, Speech and Debate, soccer team, National Honor Society.
“Hey,” Melody said. Danielle and Anjali glanced up with polite smiles.
They were nice, always trying to include me in everything they did, but I wasn’t really like them. I didn’t get straight As, or give up my Saturdays to teach little kids how to read. No one ever said it, but we all knew they kept me around because of Melody, and Melody kept me around because of how long we’d known each other.
The only two Asians in kindergarten, we glommed onto each other and became best friends. But over the years, our interests diverged. Melody had still never been kissed; Cameron was my third boyfriend. Melody got special permission to take AP Chemistry early; I was in only two honors classes and had racked up a grand total of zero APs.
Even though our school system grew more diverse over the years and we were no longer the only Asians in class, Melody was loyal and stubborn, as persistent in her friendships as she was with building her resume, and that, along with our shared history as outsiders, was why I liked her.
“So where are you from?” Mel asked Elise.
“Chattanooga,” she answered.
“Oh, I think I’ve been once,” Danielle said. “The Tennessee Aquarium’s there, right?”
“Yep,” Elise said, biting into an apple.
“Do you miss it? Your old school, your friends?” Anjali asked, and Elise just shrugged.
“Did your parents get transferred for work?” Danielle said.
“Something like that.”
It went on for a while—polite questions and short answers. I grew nervous, unsure why Elise was so reserved. She wasn’t rude, just quiet, like she didn’t like all this attention on her. She only seemed to relax when the others moved on, shooting me a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes as Melody, Anjali, and Danielle talked about a bake sale they were organizing for that Thursday.
By the end of lunch, Melody had pushed me into baking muffin tops and asked Elise to contribute too.
“I’m not really good at that kind of stuff,” Elise said.
“Oh, I’m not good at that kind of stuff either,” Melody said, even though that was a lie. For each of our birthdays she’d bake our favorites: coconut cake for me, brownies for Anjali, and red velvet cupcakes for Danielle. And she’d do it all from scratch.
“I just get mix or frozen cookie dough,” she continued, waving Elise’s concerns aside.
“I’d burn them,” Elise said with a forced laugh. I looked between the two of them, just trying to think of a way to prevent a fight over some stupid cookies.
“I could come over and help Wednesday after school if you want,” Melody offered, still oblivious. I knew they were different, but I still wanted Elise to like her, or at least give her a chance. Though I think I was also secretly impressed—most people had a hard time saying no to Melody when she was this determined, but not Elise.
“No, thank you,” Elise said firmly, not making an excuse this time. Melody frowned in confusion.
“But—” she began to protest.
“I can do cookies too,” I said, trying to defuse the situation. “If you want.”
Melody stared at Elise’s stoic expression and answered me without looking over. “Sure, I guess.”
After lunch, as Melody and I walked to honors language arts, the one class we still shared, she asked how I’d met Elise.
“Why?” I said.
“Just wondering.” She adjusted her backpack straps.
“At homecoming.” Cameron had broken up with me only a couple days ago and I hadn’t had a chance to tell her yet, so I didn’t elaborate.
“So that’s where you were,” she said. “I texted but you never got back to me.”
“Sorry,” I said. “She gave me a ride home.” That was technically true. There were just a few detours.
Melody paused outside of our classroom, tapping her chin as she considered this.
“Why?” I asked.
“No reason. She’s just a little weird.”
“Because she didn’t want to help with the bake sale? Come on, Mel,” I said. Elise hadn’t acted weird, she just didn’t want to give in to Melody’s demands.
“No, it’s not that,” she said. “I don’t know, I tried so hard to talk to her and she just seemed so . . .”
“Yes?” I said as the one-minute warning bell went off.
Melody finally settled on a word: “Cold.”
“What?” Maybe she’d been a little standoffish at lunch, but Elise wasn’t cold. She’d been there for me even though we were just strangers.
“Yeah, that’s it. She seemed cold.”
“Okay, so not wanting to bake cookies makes her cold?” I said, my irritation growing.
“No, it’s not about the cookies.”
“Miss Tsai, Miss Moon,” Mr. Hunter called out to us in the hall. “Are you planning on joining us today?”
“Sorry,” Melody said, rushing inside.
Even after class, Melody didn’t want to let it go. She seemed genuinely confused, like she’d never encountered anyone like Elise.
“Why didn’t she want to answer any of our questions?” she asked as we walked to our lockers. “It was just weird. That’s all I’m saying.”
I didn’t know what to say because I wondered the same thing. Elise hadn’t minded the attention two days ago when we were setting off firecrackers outside Cameron’s window.
Elise was a mystery, but I liked that about her.
I liked that she didn’t care about fitting in, that she kept parts of herself locked away. That she made being different look so easy.