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Her voice is deep and braying, almost manly, and I instinctively shrink back out of her line of sight.
Helen laughs lightly and leans across Penny toward me. Don t mind Barb, she says, her blue eyes
glittering under the fluorescents. She s not happy unless she s mad about something.
I smile and nod.
Oh, and no need to call me ma am. I m really not that much older than you, she adds with a wink.
Barb makes another harrumphing sound.
Right at this moment the door squeals open and a muscular woman in a red racer-type swimsuit strides
into the room.
All right, ladies! Spread out and get ready for leg lifts! she shouts at near-Barb volume.
For the next half hour, the teacher (she never gives her name or asks me for mine) commands us to do
several reps of lifts, bends, kicks, and side stretches. The movements are tougher than they look and I
find myself straining to keep up at times. Penny is a star student, Mabel whimpers, and Barb, of course,
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complains loudly which makes Helen laugh and shake her head. Occasionally Doris will slip and go
underwater, requiring Barb to stop what she s doing, reach down, and lift her back onto her feet.
Whoopsie! Doris says each time, with a tinkly laugh, followed by various grumblings from Barb.
I can feel some stress working its way out of my body. I can t believe I m here, with these people,
wearing a dorky rubber cap and moving like a marionette. If my cool friends from the past could see this,
they d disown me forever.
Only& they kind of already have. Except maybe Lorraine. And she hasn t replied to any of my
messages since we left Portland three weeks ago.
You re doing really well for your first time, Penny says to me as we stop for a quick breather.
She sure is, Helen remarks. You fit right in, Maggie.
Thanks, I reply.
But her comment makes me feel sad.
By the time I walk back to our shop, my arms and legs feel all loose and floppy. Our upstairs apartment
is completely empty. Judging by the silence, I figure Rosie and Les are probably working in the store. I
head into the kitchen and open the refrigerator, hoping to claim the leftover avocado salad, but it s not
there. I grab a carrot instead, shut the door, and immediately let out a yelp.
Rosie is suddenly standing there. Usually I know she s around by the swishy sounds of her skirts, but not
this time. Probably because I m a little dopey and worn-out from water aerobics, but also because
Rosie s naked.
Rosie! You scared me! I cry, clutching my chest in a mini CPR move.
I m sorry, she says with a giggle, which totally annoys me. I m really tired of being laughed at today.
She slips past me and opens the fridge. I was hoping we had another one of those mango sodas, she
says, scanning the contents.
There s one in the door shelf, I point out.
Oooh yay! she exclaims, doing a jiggly hop for joy. The Universe loves me.
Yeah,youmaybe, I think wearily.
I hope you weren t downstairs like that, I say, sounding more snappish than I mean to.
No, no. Rosie flicks away my comment with a hand flourish. I was on the roof.
What? My hair whips around in a double take.
You should go up there. It s nice. She opens up her bottled soda and sits down in one of the red vinyl
dinette chairs.
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But& but& My head is suddenly throbbing. I press my fingertips to my temples and take a long
breath. What were you doing on the roof completely nude?
Hanging out the clothes, she explains as if the answer should be obvious.
This is one of Rosie s things. She loves doing laundry specifically, hanging it to dry in the open air. This
is why I don t wear a lot of denim. Sunshine-dried blue jeans can practically stand up and walk around
on their own.
Everything takes longer to dry here because of the humidity, she goes on. But at least it hardly ever
rains. There s lots of sunshine. Les wants to fill a washtub with good soil and start an herb garden up
there.
I shake my head. Rosie, we aren t living off the land right now. We re in the middle of the city. You
can t just stroll around naked on rooftops. They probably have laws against it. I mean& what if someone
sees you?
She shrugs. How can they see me all the way up there?
We have neighbors.
Don t be silly. No one else was on their roof.
By now I m totally exasperated. But the building across the street has a third story! All they d have to
do is look out the windows!
She shrugs again and takes a big sip of mango soda.
It s no use. Trying to discuss the rules of society with my parents is like trying to talk about world
economics with a couple of two-year-olds. When I started attending school, I began to realize just how
different my home life is. Even though I agree with my parents on most things, I found myself constantly
wishing that they d try to fit in with the masses a little more if only for me and the sake of my reputation.
But they don t care about things like social rankings and respectability.
I suppose under my new antipopularity plan, it doesn t really matter if I seem like a freak. But I d still
rather notfeel like one.
Oh! Rosie cries out suddenly, leaping to her feet. The vinyl seat sticks to her bare butt for a second
before dropping back to the floor. I make a mental note not to use that chair for a while. I almost forgot.
You got a package today!
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