The first floor parlor of the salt box was deserted as the four of them made their way inside. The light reflected off of the brightly painted pastel walls. Someone like Pamela would never approve these colors in her house. 

"The colors in here are way too cheerful." She'd often complain.

They moved to the Naugahide living room set. They agreed to go back to the cafeteria if they got hungry again.

"When did you get here, Amy?" Pamela asked, feeling like a detective.

"I flew in last night. My mom, sister, and I stayed on Cape Cod."

"The Cape's nice, especially Falmouth." Sarah replied.

"I have a cousin who goes to Mystic River in Stonington." Amy offered.

"That's one of our rival schools. They're more snobby there. We always beat them at Field Hockey. Sore losers." Alison remarked.

The four of them had fully occupied the couches now. Alison mentioned that she was still starving, as did Sarah.

"Go get yourselves more food. I want to talk to Amy!" Pamela ordered. Sending them away, it was down to Pamela and Amy.

"No funny business. We've been burned before." Pamela pleaded.

"I don't do people like that. You're the first people here that have talked to me all day." Amy replied. Her firm voice unwavering.

"With that out of the way, Amy, what do you do for fun?"

"I'm into photography and Medieval art. I also hang out with my little sister."

"So you're an artsy type?" Pamela interrogated.

"I love the arts. My mom takes me to see the Met in the city."

"New York City? I've been there with my parents." Pamela continued.

"It's so lame." Amy replied; this seemed to take Pamela aback.

"How can you think New York is lame? It's so much cooler than Boston!"

"When you live there it's different. My mom won't let me go into the city with my friends."

"Your mom sounds gross already." Pamela remarked. She had no idea of the floodgates she'd just opened.

"You have no idea, Pam. She treats my sister and I like we're babies. I always have to babysit my sister while mom and dad go out every evening. I like cooking for my sister, but I never get to have time to myself. Sometimes I wish I were an only child." Amy vented.

"Being an only child isn't all it's cracked up to be, Amy." Pamela sighed.

"I can't wait to show you my photos, Pam. I can draw you." Amy uttered, changing the subject. The mention of her mother made Amy tense.

"No need to be uptight Amy, we're all friends here."

A moment later, Alison and Sarah had returned from the cafeteria. The looks on their faces meant that a message came along with their arrival.

"Pam, Amy if you're still hungry they have a bit of pizza left." Sarah warned.

"Want to go grab a slice?" Amy asked Pamela. She nodded.

It was a race against time.

Amy and Pamela had barely made it back to the cafeteria. Running up to the table, they grabbed the last two slices of pepperoni and cheese. As they took the last pieces, the freshman that served them alerted the other staff members present they were out of pizza, throwing her hands up.

"Fucking Lower School scum." She hissed.

Beating a retreat back to the salt box, Pamela and Amy laughed the entire way.

"Did you see the way she looked at you, Amy?"

"I was more focused on getting out of there, to be honest, Pam."

"You already have a rival, and you haven't been here more than a day. Even better, it's Tammy Nye!" Pamela cooed, as though she were jealous of Amy.

"Is she the resident mean girl?"

"Worse. She's so miserable because her parents are so old. They never go anywhere with her. When they go cruising around the world, they leave her home. Technically, Tammy should go to Briarwood." Pamela continued.

They continued along past the school building. The rain had become a fine mist at this point; the breeze cold and raw coming in off Cape Cod Bay.

"Is it always this cold here?" Amy wondered. Back home in the Hudson Valley it was never this raw even on rainy days.

"There's something you should know." Pamela uttered.

"Lights out is 11:30 on Friday and Saturday. All other nights it's at 10. The staff is supposed to check in on us every two hours."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I know you smoke. I can see the outline of the pack in your pocket. If you want to sneak out, there's a pathway called 'Smoker's Highway' a bunch of the high schoolers go over there. Just don't make too much noise." Pamela instructed. Amy thought she'd concealed the pack well enough for nobody to notice. She was wrong. They continued to walk along the path. Ahead was the safety of the salt box. Pamela quickly turned to Amy.

"One other thing" Pamela began, a serious look on her face; the light reflecting off her braces in a menacing way.

"Whatever you do, do NOT go over to the high school dorm. They'll kick your ass. The freshmen watch us every evening and treat us like their personal slaves." Pamela finished, clearly bothered by the injustice of it all. A gust of wind nearly blew the door out of Amy's hands. Turning, they came face to face with Sarah and Alison; stunned looks on both their faces.

Sitting down on the Naugahide couch once more, the group soon became thoroughly engrossed in meeting Amy.

"If you're not from New York City, then where are you from?"

"The suburbs of Rockland County. A little village called Blauvelt. Nothing ever happens there."

"That you know of." Pamela assuaged. In her time in Wakefield she'd heard many neighborhood secrets; an open window in the summer is often a portal to a household's soul.

"What's your favorite TV show?" Sarah asked.

"I have a few favorite shows. I watch Mack Tavish with my dad, Cheers with my mom, and Wonder Cats with my sister. My absolute favorite shows are Whiz Kids and Chad Owen." Amy replied, a smile growing on her face.

"Nice, Chad Owen!" Replied Pam.

"Do you watch it, too??"

"Yeah. I also know the guy who plays Chad. He grew up in Reading, the next town over."

"You know James Davis? Oh my god, that's neat! That's so neat!" Amy squealed.

"Eh, he's kind of a jerk. He can act, but off set he's like cardboard; there's just nothing up there in that blond skull of his."

This disappointed Amy, but still she thought it was cool. 

"I want to ask a question!" Alison proclaimed.

"You mentioned that you have a younger sister. Is she a pain in the ass?"

"Sometimes, especially when mom has to take her to an appointment. We watch cartoons on Saturday morning. She loves Alison and The Wonder Cats."

"The person who created that show is a former Plymouth Rock Student. Her name is Helen Farnsworth. Back in Doylestown I get teased because my name is Alison."

"Do you guys want soda?" Amy offered.

"You have some?"

"It's upstairs. I'll run and get it. Sarah, can you help me?"

Without hesitation, Sarah followed Amy.

Amy and Sarah ascended the staircase to the third floor. To Amy, the staircase reminded her of an English manor house. To Sarah, it was just another obstacle.

"I can't wait to show you our room, Amy." Sarah nearly squealed. A simple trip upstairs to retrieve some Foxon Park Kola turned into a sightseeing trip.

"As you can see, this is my half of the room. I was worried you weren't going to come. I'm glad you're here. Now it won't be so lonely; according to our homeroom teacher, Ms. Durfee we're a complete class now. We won't have to listen to her whine anymore. Be careful with her, though. She likes to write us up."

Amy took note as she grabbed a six-pack of Foxon Park Kola. She wanted to share in the good mood being spread around in the parlor downstairs. She could hear other voices in the downstairs parlor; Pamela fending them off, frustration in her voice.

"Hey, these couches are occupied, keep moving!" Making a break for it, Sarah and Amy headed down the stairs. Seconds later, they were back in the parlor, soda in tow.

Alison saw the Foxon Park Kola in Amy's hand. She knew it was the real deal. She hadn't had the beverage since she left Connecticut two years ago.

The parlor had quieted down again as Amy dished out the bottles. 

"Fresh from the factory." Amy said proudly.

"I haven't had this soda since I lived in Hartford. We don't have it in Doylestown." Alison sighed, having to contend with Frank's and A-Treat in the corner stores back home.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Alison asked.

"The Exorcist." Amy laughed; she'd never found the movie scary, if anything she found the photography done rather well.

"You didn't find it scary at all?" Pamela asked, curious as to why the film had the opposite effect on Amy; when the movie had scared her for weeks. The film was banned in the Cordis household.

"If anything, it was more cheesy than scary. Even my sister, Victoria laughs at it." That was the truth. Whenever her mother had seen the two watching it, she would panic, but when no adverse effects had shown themselves she continued to let them watch it.

"What about Texas Chainsaw Massacre?" Pamela inquired. Sarah blanched.

"That's the only movie that's terrifying." Amy replied.

"My brother watches slasher films, he loves The New York Ripper."

"Is that the one where the guy calls his victims, quacking like a duck? If so, that movie's okay." Amy replied.

The group didn't know whether to be in awe of Amy's fearless movie viewing or afraid of it. The wind had found a gap in the window, causing it to moan; the noise startling Sarah. Amy looked up at the clock; it was 8:30 PM. She knew what that meant. She leaned in towards Pam.

"Where's this 'smokers highway' you were telling me about?" Amy whispered.

"Go out of here to the right. At the school buildings, turn right. You'll hear the high schoolers."

Amy quickly left.

The path was right where Pamela said it was. Luckily for Amy, the place was deserted. Lighting up her Marlboro, she stood in quiet contemplation. The drizzle had picked up again; she swore she could see snowflakes in the faint light. She'd made it this far, she couldn't stop now; Victoria wouldn't allow it. She wanted to call over to Briarwood and talk to her sister, but Pamela's words echoed in her head. Amy could feel her mother's presence weakening with every second. Taking another drag off her cigarette, she began to think of her newfound friends. She liked Pamela, but she reminded her of another student at Nyack Junior High: Ellen Alanby. Ellen could be trusted, but sometimes she'd get caught up in the drama. Alison had seemed to be a decent person, too. The person who Amy felt she could make inroads with was Sarah. Amy had picked up on Sarah's anxiety when they were in the cafeteria.

A voice was heard coming up the path now. Amy grew tense. Before she knew it the person was standing next to her. They fumbled with their pocket.

"Do you have a lighter?"

"Here." Amy said, offering up the BIC. The young woman lit the cigarette. Amy couldn't get a glance at the other persons features even if she wanted to. The young woman lit up her cigarette.

"They'll let babies smoke these days." The person uttered; catching a glimpse of Amy in the firelight.

"Who are you?"

"Who wants to know?" They replied, a slight edge to their voice.

"I do. My name is Amy."

"My name is Morgan. I'm one of the freshmen that have to watch you guys during the evening." She articulated, a slight drawl to her voice.

"Are you from the south?" Amy asked, the cold starting to get to her.

"St. Louis, Missouri, but I have cousins who live up here." She replied. Morgan had put her Walkman on and was listening to Quiet Riot's latest album, enjoying her cigarette in peace. By now the raindrops had been replaced by snowflakes. Taking off her headphones, Morgan asked Amy a question

"Aren't you a little too young to smoke?"

"Maybe. Who wants to know?" She replied, her guard going up. After all, this freshman could cause her trouble and she could ill afford it.

"My mom buys me cigarettes back home in New York. When you have a younger sibling who annoys you, you have to take things into your own hands."

"I'm sorry." Morgan replied.

Amy stubbed out her cigarette and began to walk back to the salt box. The snow came down harder, now. She hoped her newfound friends wouldn't spread rumors of her vice. Running back inside, she hoped she hadn't missed out on the fun.

"Do you feel better, Amy?" Pamela asked.

"Yes."

As Amy was making her way back to the couch, a vote was taking place. Pamela, Alison, and Sarah had been talking about Amy, comparing mental notes and feeling her out.

"I think she's a nice person, and she drinks Foxon Park!." Alison commented. She'd had no qualms allowing Amy into the friends group.

"Without us, she's going to get into trouble. She almost fell into Tammy's clutches earlier." Pamela noted. She too, found no fault with Amy. Some time in the salt box would make Amy more confident; someone that a person like Pamela aspired to be.

"She hasn't stolen anything. She seems fine to me." Sarah piped up. 

"All those in favor of admitting Amy into the group, say 'I.'" The three of them agreed and with that, Amy had ascended into their circle. Amy smiled from ear to ear. She just might like Plymouth Rock even more than when she visited it. The blanket felt further away than it ever had from Amy now; she became more relaxed. Their celebration was abruptly cut short when a member of staff approached them.

"Pamela Cordis and Alison Courtwell! Make sure you pick up your trash. You always leave your rubbish behind for us to pick up after you!" the middle-aged woman steamed. Amy and Sarah sat in silence.

"Lights out is in an hour and a half. Start picking up after yourselves!" She commanded. Pamela looked embarrassed and singled out. She wanted to protest, but the look on the woman's face told her otherwise.

"It sucks we can't stay up all night." Alison sighed. She'd been used to staying up all night during the Christmas break.

They ascended the stairs. For three of them, this was old hat by now. For Amy, this was the beginning of something else entirely.