The sun rose that Saturday to reveal a world painted in white; it's light creating a dazzling bright square on the opposite wall. Rising from the bed, Amy looked outside at the scene before her. The Upper Quad looked untouched, no footprints sullying the pristine blanket. She wondered if the other students threw snowballs at each other like she and Victoria had done at home. Getting dressed, Amy grabbed her camera before she headed downstairs into the parlor. Sneaking outside, she managed to grab several shots of the freshly fallen snow. In the back of her mind, she wondered if Victoria was enjoying the snow, too. The campus had begun to stir around her. She was shortly joined by Sarah.

"The snow certainly is pretty. Last winter on the Vineyard was amazing. We had so much snow, my dad closed a few streets, so everyone could go sledding."

"Is your dad the mayor?" Amy asked.

"No, he's the head of the Department of Public Works in my town. He helps keep the streets in good working order." Sarah boasted proudly.

"Are we allowed to be outside this early?" Amy queried.

"Yes. During the week we'd be in the middle of early morning outdoor recreation."

"Why do we still have recess? Back in New York we didn't."

"I don't know, but I'm not complaining. I'd rather be outside all day!" Sarah exclaimed. Both of them didn't know how long they'd been talking when they were joined by Pamela and Alison.

"Wow! It snowed last night. It's getting in my shoes!" Pamela shouted. Amy made a snowball and threw it; it barely missed Pamela. She took notice and shot Amy a look.

"You think you know how to throw a snowball? I'm the best snowball thrower on the North Shore!" Pamela vaunted.

"I'll duel you! I use my mom and sister for target practice, and I've got a good aim." Amy crowed. The last member of the quartet to join them was Alison. Alison hated winter in all its forms. The way the snow seemingly froze her feet made her squirm. Her family was living in Hartford when the Blizzard of '78 buried the area. She was cooped up in the house with her brother, Patrick and he made her miserable.

The cafeteria was buzzing with activity as most of the high school students had cleared out, scurrying back to their respective dormitories. Amy had inadvertently cut ahead to the front of the impromptu line in the entrance, leaving Pam behind.

"Hey, you can't cut in line like that, Amy!" Pamela chastised. A slight pout forming on her face betraying her limited world view. Amy remembered a time when she, too, acted like Pamela; she was in 7th grade, and she was a new student herself at Nyack Junior High.

"Sorry!" Amy called back. The way Pamela had just acted, she would've gotten trampled back at Nyack. She hoped that she hadn't hurt Pamela's feelings too much, then again compared to other people Amy had dealt with recently Pamela was of little concern.

As they entered the food line, Sarah nudged Amy

"The way you pushed past Pamela was awesome. She's been so bossy lately." she whispered. Amy smiled. The French Toast was the only appetizing thing on the tray. The oatmeal, or whatever passed for it sat in a gray glob in a styrofoam bowl. The way it squelched as it was scooped into the bowl made everyone's stomach turn. The sunlight had fully illuminated the cafeteria, the snow cover acting as a mirror made it even brighter inside. 

"Sarah has a new roommate!" Pamela exclaimed.

"She didn't make a sound!" Sarah replied. The previous night had been the first time in Amy's life that she'd slept soundly. No mothers getting sloppy drunk in their room or younger sisters running into her room at all hours. Amy experienced mental clarity the likes of which was all out foreign to her.

"Alison snores. Sometimes it sounds like a freight train." Pamela teased. Her smile seemed outright sinister.

"Says the person who cuts down entire jungles." Alison retorted.

"What do you guys do on Saturdays?" Amy asked. She hoped that she'd be allowed to leave.

"For students that don't have relatives nearby, Saturday is our big social day. We go bowling, to the movies; the convenience store, you know, normal stuff." Pamela explained.

"Next weekend, Amy, you're coming home with me to the Vineyard!" Sarah exclaimed. Amy smiled; she wouldn't be trapped here after all.

"Let's go bowling today." Pamela offered.

"Amy, do you bowl?"

"Sometimes. I usually go with my friend Stacy."

"Pam, we went bowling last time. I say we go downtown." Alison suggested. Pamela had beaten them so soundly, it wasn't fun at all; the way she gloated afterward really turned her classmates off.

The sky had taken on a shade of blue that one typically sees after a snowstorm. Breakfast had concluded. Now they were bored and wondering what they could do to alleviate the situation. Pamela wanted to go bowling, but was struck down by the others; something she wasn't entirely happy with, but had to make due. The entire lower school student body had managed to fit within the parlor as the staff grabbed everyone's attention.

"Today is Social Day. I need you all to be quiet now. Please raise your hand. We will call on you and take your name and activity down." She boomed. The lower grades devolved into a murmur. The staff member looked at them with a glance that bordered on contempt.

"I can't understand why the 6th and 7th grade is still talking. They were told to be quiet!" She boomed again. Full silence was achieved.

"Since the two lower grades didn't get the memo, I'll start with the 8th grade. Since they have a new student, she goes first."

Amy sheepishly raised her hand.

"Amy. I'd like to go downtown and see the place." Amy suggested.

"Amy what?" They demanded.

"Morrow."

The staff had moved on, leaving Amy to collect her thoughts. She was becoming anxious and began to tap her foot. Pamela took notice; as if she'd recently discovered an uncontacted tribe somewhere in South America. The only member of their group not attending any social activities this weekend was Alison; she was going to her aunt's house in Holbrook, a Boston suburb. This left Pamela and Sarah. Pamela looked dejected at first, but then she remembered that she wanted to go into town to pick something up. Her right arm could rest up for the weekend.

The walk into downtown Plymouth was serene. The neighborhood next to the school was rather lively on this sunny and bright Saturday morning. The residents greeting the large group of students with smiles.

"Welcome back!" They shouted. The neighborhood had always seemed to watch over the area surrounding the school, often reporting students who littered or caused problems. The stretch along Dillingham Street proved to be the quietest; as though the entire block was in a deep-frozen state. They were approaching Main Street now, the low rumble of the traffic became audible.

"Downtown Plymouth has everything you need. There's a nifty pharmacy that serves ice cream and sells other stuff." Pamela noted. They burst onto Main Street and seemingly into another world. The traffic was rather heavy this Saturday morning. Luckily for them, the sidewalks were clear. 

"Are there interesting places in downtown Plymouth?" Amy asked; she wasn't expecting anything to be open on this winter's day, judging by several “Closed” signs she saw. She pointed her camera and shot a photo. Amy had received a brand-new camera for Christmas, but wasn't allowed to bring it to Massachusetts; as a compromise, she was allowed to pack her older camera. They continued down Main Street for a few more minutes before stopping in front of Benny's Department Store. Pamela and Sarah waited for Amy to catch up.

"Come on, slow poke! You can have your Kodak moment later." Pamela shouted over the din of the traffic. She still couldn't understand that up until last Thursday, Amy hadn't really set foot out of New York. She'd never been more than fifty miles from Blauvelt.

"She's acting like a tourist." Pamela whispered to Sarah.

"Pam, this is her first time ever being away from home. Her town is like the Vineyard. I just left home for the first time ever. Cut her some slack." Sarah replied, she knew Pamela meant well; even if it made her sound like a brat.

Benny's was packed on this Saturday. The jostling crowd made it nearly impossible to make it down the aisles. Somewhere in the store, a child was screaming.

"Shut that kid up!" Pamela whined.

They walked through the electronics aisle. Amy found the film she was looking for. Grabbing at least two boxes of film, she made her getaway.

"You needed film?" Sarah asked Amy.

"I love photography. I got a new camera for Christmas, but I wasn't allowed to bring it to school. Instead, my mom allowed me to bring my older camera." Amy boasted.

"That's cool that your mom allows you to do that. She must be nice sometimes."

"Eh, it's more like she expects something in return. I have to call my sister once a week." Amy whined.

"At least you have a sister!" Pam and Sarah exclaimed in unison. In a way, they were jealous of Amy; mostly because Amy had someone to talk to at home.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be." Amy sighed.

"I always have to babysit her while our parents go out every night. Currently, she's going to Briarwood. She's no baby, though." She sighed again. They'd walked back out into the parking lot; the sun nearly blinding them in the process. The smell of the ocean hung over and clung to them like a blanket. Suddenly, an acrid scent familiar to Sarah wafted over them as they neared a house

"Somebody's having heating problems judging by the smell of the oil." Sarah said proudly. She remembered when their neighbors in Oak Bluffs had a heating oil spill seven years ago; how sharp and acrid the oil smelled. Forever burned into her memory.

"What do you mean by 'oil?'" Amy asked.

"Heating oil. My house is heated by it. Every couple months, a big truck pulls up, connects a hose to our oil tank and fills it with oil for our furnace. My dad hates dealing with the fuel guy; he's so impatient."

Across the street was Stephens Field; during the warmer months the park would be filled with people. Today however the park was deserted; the only noise coming from an outboard motor droning somewhere out in the harbor.

"Let's go to Dunkin' Donuts." Pamela encouraged. "It's next to the convenience store I was telling you about last night, Amy."

"I want some coffee, anyway. Our school's coffee is muddy water." Sarah complained.

"Sarah, you could drink an entire pot of coffee and go to bed afterward." Pamela teased.

"I'm proud of it, too. It scares my mom and dad. 'How can you drink all that coffee and go to sleep after?'" Sarah continued. Even Pamela thought that was impressive.

"When I drink lots of coffee, I read a lot afterward. Sometimes I get really, really hyper." Pamela remarked.

"Pam, you'd devour War and Peace before Monday if you could." It was now Sarah's turn to land a jab. Pamela took it in stride, after all it was true that she loved to read; even if her mother sent her to school with the latest in young adult literature and not the classics.

"My cousin, Nora loves Nancy Drew. She's read the entire series." Amy added.

"Read it." Pamela announced. She didn't like Nancy Drew very much. She found it way too predictable; the same with the Hardy Boys. When it came to detective novels, she preferred Christie's Poirot.

"Pam, what's Wakefield like?" Amy asked, curious as to wonder if the rest of her town was like Pam; her stuck up facade betrayed by numerous cracks.

"Nothing ever happens there. There's a huge lake just down the street called Lake Quanapowwit. People love to throw their trash there; one time, I saw couple making out in the bushes over by the graveyard. It was gross. You've probably seen worse things because you live in New York." Pam explained.

"The grossest thing I've ever seen at school was someone doing ear-piercing in the bathroom by the cafeteria." Amy bragged; Pamela turned her nose up in disgust. There was a student last semester

"I just lost my appetite!" Pamela replied; her curiosity however was about to get the better of her.

"How did they do it, though?" She nervously asked.

"Sewing needle." Amy replied. Sarah seemed impressed, whereas Pamela looked physically ill.

"That happened at my old school, too." Sarah said. They approached Dunkin' Donuts; in a rare moment of serenity, the counter was silent. Ordering large coffees, they paid and left.

"We don't have this on Martha's Vineyard, I always come to Dunk's when I'm away during the week." Sarah said.

"I hope you guys have some form of coffee out there; or do you guys drink seawater?" Amy pondered. Sarah let out a deep laugh that emanated from the depths of her soul.

They began the walk back to campus. Dillingham Street offering its solitude and serenity. The rest of the neighborhood had come alive by now; the homeowners going about with their daily lives. Ahead of them lay the impressive administration building and its stately entrance. Walking up to the front doors, they entered; Amy felt more at home now. A receptionist greeted them.

"Amy Morrow? Your mother called, she's coming to pick you up tomorrow morning. Did you enjoy your outing?"

"It was nice. Plymouth seems like a cool town."

"That was fun!" Sarah said as she and Amy walked into their room. Walking over to her bed, Amy set her coffee down on the bureau and continued decorating.

"Is it true that you can drink an entire pot of coffee then go to sleep afterward?"

"Yup. Something in the caffeine helps me concentrate. Before I go to bed though, I always drink chamomile tea. My mom makes me some in the evenings." She plainly said. Amy had heard that chamomile helps people go to sleep; she wanted to test this theory, but at 3:30 in the afternoon, she felt it to be too early.

"You didn't make any noise last night, Amy. I almost thought you were dead." Sarah laughed. Judging by the way her eyes lit up, Sarah herself was at ease.

"Why does Pamela act like that?" Amy asked, hoping not to cause a rift within her newfound home.

"That's just how she is. She's gotten better since the first day of school, however. She and Alison used to be mortal enemies, but then the school made them be roommates in order to help them solve their problems. Pamela is one of the nicest people in this building." This seemed to placate Amy.

"Is it true I'll get my ass kicked if I go over to the high school dorm?" Amy asked; remembering Pamela's warning from last night.

"I've been over there several times. I've never gotten my ass kicked. Who told you they'd kick your ass over there?"

"Pam."

"She got into a fight over there, once with Tammy. It happened last October. She'd kill me if she heard me telling you."

"I see. I didn't mean anything by it."

"I know, but just know that it isn't personal. Sometimes Pamela doesn't think before she speaks and she finds out the hard way. She was so mad afterward, she'd have blown up if she were an engine."

Amy had moved to her bed and sat on it. The mattress was a lot comfier than her bed at home in New York. If this was how things were going to be at Plymouth Rock, then Amy could stand to be here. True, there were a couple of people and a few places that rubbed Amy the wrong way, but compared to her previous environment she'd take it. At least here she didn't have to contend with her mother's prying questions or her sister's tantrums. She wondered what her own mother would think of Sarah; Victoria would become jealous, because she viewed her older sister as her best friend.

Sarah sipped her coffee and contemplated the rest of the afternoon's plans. The trio would be hard-pressed to find decent company in the cafeteria tonight; with Alison being up in Holbrook and the other two boarding students not getting along well with Pamela. The day students also had a hard time getting along with her, too. 

"I'll be so glad when next weekend rolls around." Sarah began.

"Why?" Amy replied, she liked Plymouth, but Sarah seemed to hint at something else.

"Because we'll be on the Vineyard, plus mom's making shake n' bake pork chops and mashed potatoes." Sarah smiled from ear to ear.

"You really want me to meet your mom, don't you?"

"Amy, the thought of you staying here all alone every weekend doesn't feel right. My family is hosting you every weekend. What kind of things do you eat at home?"

"I do the cooking for my sister and I. I like to make grilled cheese, but I'm most famous, according to my sister for my French Toast. We both like it a specific way that mom doesn't know how to do: almost crispy. I also make a tasty cheeseburger." Amy proudly boasted. Sarah, an only child herself stared back in slight amazement.

"You seem to do a lot for your sister, how old is she?"

"Thirteen, but she has some problems. She's going to Briarwood despite not being a baby. Sometimes she's too smart for her own good. That drives my mom insane, so mom gets back at her by dragging a brush through her hair, which is messy. I can't take her crying when mom does it, because she hits her. Don't get me started on the tantrums."

"Oh, no. What happens then?"

"She rips her braid out and bashes her head into the floor. I don't like it when she does that; it kind of scares me." Amy replied, looking down at her bed, somewhat ashamed.

A knock on the door snapped them to attention. Sarah answered the door; a member of the school staff entered followed by Pamela.

"Here is the dinner menu for this evening. Circle your entrée, side, and beverage; then hand the form back, please." the staff member commanded. Handing them their menus, Amy and Sarah then turned their attention to Pamela.

"Hey Pam." Amy said first. Pamela's face wore a frown. She crossed her arms, and looked down at the floor.

"What's wrong, Pam?" Amy said, noticing her upset demeanor.

"Don't tell anybody, but I'm worried about my mom!" She wailed.

"What happened to your mom?" Sarah asked.

"She's in the hospital, but not just any hospital." She blubbered.

"The day after Christmas, she started the day normally. By the end, she was in the back of an ambulance going to the loony bin. I just want her to be well again." Pamela sniffled.

"Pam, that's horrible! Can you visit her at least?"

"Dad says we're going to see her next Saturday. I was making a get well card for her."

"Do you have any friends up there to distract you from thinking about your mom?"

"No. All the other kids hate me up there. They make fun of me, calling me 'stupid' and a 'snobby brat.'" Pamela snivelled. From what Amy could gather, Pamela felt alone and adrift. Her mom must've meant a lot to Pamela for her to act like this. In a way, she deduced that Pamela's only true best friend was her mother.

"Your mom's your best friend, isn't she?" Amy inquired. The question hit Pamela like an ingot of lead. All Pamela could do was nod.

"It's not fair that she has to be sick! I don't want her to be locked away." Pamela sobbed. Sarah lent some Kleenex.

"When she feels well, she's awesome. We do a lot of outdoor activities during the summer." She continued, an occasional sniffle making its way into the conversation.

"My favorite part of summer break is when we go to Salisbury Beach for a week. Dad rents a cottage nearby. Mom and I went canoeing in the marshes behind the beach. We saw lots of cool things."

"Do you ride the go-karts?" Sarah asked.

"You bet we do. Last summer was the first year I could drive one myself,

"Salisbury Beach sounds like Playland back in Rye." Amy noted. She ran over to her bureau, opened a drawer and came back with a pair of red heart-shaped sunglasses. Pamela smiled at the sight of them; she had a pair that looked exactly like Amy's.

"I found these on the ground at Playland. Mom thinks they're obnoxious. I think they're funny."

"Do you go there with your friends?"

"No. Usually my mom takes my sister and I. They have the best pizza in any amusement park. A slice of pepperoni and a large Coke is an excellent lunch.."

"Do you only eat pizza?"

"It's my favorite food. Every Friday and Saturday night, we order from Village Pizza in Piermont. On Friday night, my sister and I sit in our TV room upstairs. We watch Whiz Kids and then switch over to MTV. Technically, Victoria isn't allowed to watch MTV, but I allow her to."

"I love Whiz Kids, by the way." Pamela babbled.

"What do you do on Saturday night, Amy?"

"We also have pizza and watch TV. My parents go out all the time. Saturday night pizza is the best because it's almost extra crispy. The pepperoni cup and hold in the grease. If it were art, I'd still eat it. I hope our cafeteria's Saturday night pizza is just as good."

A glance out the window revealed the approaching golden hour. The sun reflected off the windows on the administration building. The grove of pine trees had become something darker now, almost sinister compared to their inviting embrace just hours before. Something in Pamela made her want to stay close by her friends this evening.

The waxing crescent moon shone brightly in the evening sky above the cafeteria. Amy led the way to the front door; the breeze making her pick up the pace. The trees making a low rushing sound in the wind. Sarah looked up at the sky, Venus stood out for her.

"Venus is out tonight!" Sarah exclaimed. Amy and Pamela both looked up.

"That's Venus? I thought it was something else entirely." Amy marveled.

"It's the brightest thing in the sky." Sarah proudly said.

The entered the cafeteria and the line. Each of them received two slices of pizza and a cup. The soda fountain was operating tonight. The machine dispensed Coca-Cola products, Dr. Pepper included. Amy took a look at her slices. The way the pepperoni cupped reminded her of Village Pizza back home.

"Sarah, are there any good pizzas on the Vineyard?"

"Giordano's in Oak Bluffs, but that's a summer only thing. In Vineyard Haven, there's Port Pizza. The owner is from New York. The owner's two sons work with my dad during the summer. One's kind of cute." Sarah replied.

"I'm sorry about earlier." Pam uttered.

"Don't be sorry. According to my therapist back in New York, it's okay to be human."

"You see a therapist?" Pamela asked incredulously.

"My sister and I see the same therapist. Her name is Jane. Our mom makes us go, then she wants Jane to tell her everything we said. More often than not, Jane doesn't tell my mom anything."

"I love my therapist. She's like my mom. They go biking and canoeing in their spare time." Pamela replied.

"Speaking of therapy, I see Gwen on Tuesday." Sarah spoke up. Gwen Burgess was one of Plymouth Rock's therapists. She was quite good at what she did. Gwen answered to Dr. Whitney only if things weren't going right; like last October when Pamela got into trouble with Tammy. Pamela received a detention. Alison and Sarah never heard the end of it.

The cafeteria was buzzing with the sounds of the entire school as they ate. The lighting in the cafeteria wasn't the best by long shot and the way it reflected off of some tiles on the wall created dazzling patterns. As the students ate, one of the teachers stood at the head of everything.

"Good evening. Welcome back to Plymouth Rock for the spring semester. We're going to continue building upon the great progress that we made in the fall. We have a new student joining us all the way from upstate New York. As a student body, you must show her that she's got what it takes to thrive here. Remember, one of Plymouth Rock's main principles is mutual respect for one another and mutual respect is key to how we interact in the community." They announced. A few students clapped, but they were seniors. The teacher shot them a look.

"You aren't supposed to clap after announcements like this." Pamela whispered.

"That's weird. At my old school they made you clap. The staff could've killed your dog, and you still had to clap." Amy whispered back.

"Was the name of your old school Hell Junior High?" Pamela inquired. She remembered when she went to school in Wakefield. The experience terrified her; every sense under attack.

"Close, it's Nyack Junior High."

"I went to public school in Wakefield. My elementary school was a terrifying place. At least you made it through 7th grade." Pam shuddered.

"Barely. I was able to make a few friends, though."

"At least you had friends. Nobody liked me up in Wakefield."

Pamela shook her head. Sarah came to save the day by lightening the mood.

"Have you ever been to the top of the Empire State Building?"

"Yes, as well as the World Trade Center. A lot of tourists go there. It's overrated."

"I agree." Pamela replied.

Amy was finishing her second slice of pizza, when a familiar face appeared standing above her; it was Morgan. She leaned in close to Amy and whispered

"8:30 out on the path?"

Amy nodded. Pamela silently watched the exchange. She had doubts about Morgan. While not the worst freshman at Plymouth Rock, she was far from the best. Worst of all, in Pamela's mind was that Morgan was friends with that rude clerk at the convenience store. Morgan walked away.

"Amy, do you know who that is?"

"Morgan. Why?"

"She's a 'bad kid.' Her family in St. Louis sent her up here. Apparently she beat the shit out of somebody out there. She's friends with the clerk at the convenience store next to the Dunkin' Donuts."

"I'm not going to fight her, obviously." Amy replied, she couldn't care less if Morgan was what Pamela had called a "bad kid." She'd heard that phrase thrown around enough by her own mother whenever she'd manage to make a friend; she'd gotten tired of hearing it. As dinner wound down around them, they made the decision to head back to the salt box and to Sarah and Amy's room.