Average Jane |Lesbian Story|

Chapter 13

Jane had collected ten different balls to test, and she had found a library book on balls in the children's section at the public library. It was actually a book for little kids, full of pictures, but it had lots of information on balls.

After A Tale of Two Cities, it was a relief to be reading a book with only 64 pages and a lot of pictures. She was still reading her daily quota of Dickens. She would be finished easily by the time she had to give her book report on Monday, though she still had to come up with something to say in front of the class. Jane didn't feel comfortable to stand up there and speak, but Ms. Reeds would expect more than just reading books, she wanted people to talk about them, and she would not accept just, "I read this whole book. It has 422 pages."

Somewhere in her report, Jane was going to work in a casual, offhand way, the number of pages. She couldn't wait to see Ms. Reeds' face when she did. The thought made her excited. Jane had never been excited about a schoolwork like this before.

At the same time, she felt guilty, because her best friend was going to read only some book with one hundred pages and here she was out-doing her. Jane wondered if Emily felt left out. They hardly hang out together again after the whole stalking Ms. Anderson gone wrong. Well, it hadn't actually gone wrong, but it might as well be.

Now Ms. Anderson would probably think of her as a creep. It made her feel disappointed in herself because she wanted Ms. Anderson to always look at her like she was wonderful all the time—like someone who is going to have a bright future in science, not someone who creeps around other people's house.

When Jane came downstairs for breakfast, she had A Tale of Two Cities in her hand. Caroline was up already, back from an early morning run, even though she had been out late last night with her friends. Caroline and their mother were morning people, Jane and their father weren't. Morning people must have some sort of superpower to help them fight off bed gravity so easily. Jane couldn't imagine waking up at five or six to run. Why would you have to torment yourself like that every day? Why?

"What's the book?" Caroline asked her. "Every time I see you now, you've got your nose in some book."

Jane held it up, keeping her finger on page 369. Caroline looked impressed. Jane made a mental note: On Friday, February 8, at 10:07 a.m, Caroline saw the book her sister, Jane, was reading and looked genuinely impressed.

"How'd you get started on Dickens?" Caroline said.

"I don't know. I just thought I'd try a long book for a change."

"Hey, I just remembered something," Caroline said. "This is funny. When I was in sixth grade, one time I read a really long book, the longest one in the class. Is this for one of Ms. Reeds' famous book reports? Mine was, too. What was it? That's right, The Yearling. It was a great book. A really great book. If you do another long book, read The Yearling."

Caroline read The Yearling in sixth grade? Jane hadn't heard of the book until she was in high school.

"How long was it?" For some reason, Jane had to know.

"I don't remember. Three hundred, four hundred pages. And sad. It's the saddest book I ever read."

"A Tale of Two Cities is sad, too." Were all long books sad? You'd think that after someone had read four hundred pages, the least he or she'd deserve was a happy ending. "Do you have it here? The Yearling?"

"No. It was from the library. What do you want to make for dinner tonight? Maybe burgers, salsa, and guacamole? Tell Mom I'm going over to Sarah's house to study for the math test. What about you? What are you doing?"

"I guess I'll go to the library. There's something I need to look up," she said.

At the library, Jane found The Yearling listed in the computer catalog. It was by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, shelved upstairs with the adult books.

But she found Lucy there, browsing through the same section. It wasn't their Peer-Teaching day, Jane thought about turning away and sneaking out of there before Lucy saw her, but she heard Lucy's voice calling her name.

"Jane!" she said in an excited voice. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you come to the library on Friday, too."

Jane turned around with an awkward smile.

"Well, I just want to check out some books," she said.

"Oh nice," Lucy said and walked towards her. "I can help you look for them. I might know where they might be. What is the title?"

"The Yearling?"

"I love The Yearling!" Lucy gasped.

Of course, you do, Jane thought to herself. You practically finished most of this section —twice.

"Well, I want to see how long it's gonna be," Jane said with a shrug.

"You really do have great taste in literature. I never know that," Lucy told her with a sweet smile. Her eyes flickered in admiration at Jane. "Oh, and by the way, I found the contest you told me about. It's a poetry contest! I was so surprised to see that they have one this year."

Jane felt awful. She wanted to say something about it.

Oh, Lucy? I was going to talk to you about that last time. The contest you said I was so nice to tell you about? Well, it was all part of a mean joke that Jonas, Charlie, and Mary were trying to play on you. Don't join it!

How could Jane say that? She had been the one who kept silent and did nothing to stop those three. Now she felt as if she was part of their awful plan. But if she told Lucy, the others would know that she spilled the secret and they would think she actually did like Lucy Adams.

Jane tried to smile, but her lips felt like rubber bands trying to stretch.

"Um, good news," she said. "There must be a lot of people entering it."

"Yeah, that's true," Lucy said, but she still didn't sound so hopeless either. "Anyway, let's find The Yearling."

Jane had to make herself follow Lucy. Her feet felt heavy with guilt.

There it was. The book looked long, all right, longer than A Tale of Two Cities. It was definitely a thicker book, but maybe it was just printed on thicker paper.

Jane made herself flip to the last page to check the page number: 400. Twenty-two pages shorter than A Tale of Two Cities.

Jane grinned like a fool. Caroline had read a shorter book than her.