The sound of someone laughing drew our attention to the first door on the right.

"Well, we might as well start our introductions here," Mrs. Penny said. "Jacqueline . . . Kathleen."

A girl at least five foot eleven, if not six feet tall, stepped out first. I saw by the way she slouched when she walked that she was conscious of her height. She had a narrow face with a long, pinched nose above a small mouth with thin lips that became pale rubber bands, especially when she smirked. I was soon to learn that smirking was her favorite expression. Her bitterness was centered in her disapproving brown eyes that more than not were merely slits. She looked like someone spying on the world, an uninvited guest who attended a party for people much happier than herself.

"This is Jacqueline Gidot. Jacqueline, meet Gisselle and Ruby Dumas and their father."

"Hello," Jacqueline said, looking quickly from me to Gisselle. I imagined that the girls in our quad had been warned that Gisselle was in a wheelchair, but of course, actually confronting her in it was more impressive.

"Hi," I replied. Gisselle just nodded, but she looked up with new interest when Jacqueline's roommate stepped up beside her.

"And this is Kathleen Norton."

Kathleen had a warmer smile. She was a dirty blonde about our height, but much wider in the hips and shoulders.

"Everybody calls me Kate," she told us quickly and followed that with a quick giggle.

"Or Chubs," Jacqueline inserted dryly. Kate just laughed. It looked to me like she laughed after most everything she said or everything and anything said about her. It was more of a nervous reaction. Her blue eyes were wide as if in awe when she looked at Gisselle, and I knew Gisselle wasn't going to like that.

"Chubs?" Gisselle snorted.

"She eats everything in sight and hoards candy all over our room like a gray-tail squirrel," Jacqueline added disdainfully. Kate laughed. Like a sponge she absorbed Jacqueline's sarcasm, smiled, and went on as if nothing had been said.

"Welcome to Greenwood."

"Thank you," I said.

"Which room is ours?" Gisselle demanded impatiently.

"Right across the way," Mrs. Penny said. When we turned, we confronted an adorable doll-like strawberry blonde with a face full of dimples standing in the doorway of the room adjacent to ours.

"This is Samantha," Mrs. Penny announced.

"Hi," Samantha said. She looked years younger than us. "You're a senior?" Gisselle asked. The tiny Samantha nodded.

"Samantha's actually from Mississippi," Mrs. Penny explained, as if Mississippi wasn't just the adjacent state but another country too. "Samantha, this is Gisselle and Ruby Dumas and their father."

"Hi," she said.

The sound of someone coming down the hallway behind us returned our attention to the corridor. A studious-looking girl hurriedly entered the quad. She wore her dark brown hair just below her ears and a pair of thick-lensed black-frame glasses, which made her brown eyes seem so much larger. She had large, hard features and was pale to the point of looking sickly, but she had a large bosom, almost as large as Mrs. Penny's, and a figure Jacqueline would tell us later was wasted on that horsey face.

"Victoria. Just in time to meet the new residents, Ruby and Gisselle Dumas," Mrs. Penny said. "This is Samantha's roommate," she explained to us.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Ruby."

Victoria took off her glasses before extending her long-fingered hand. I shook it.

"I just came from the library," she said in a quick breath. "Mr. Warden posted his outside reading assignments for European history already."

"Vicki is determined to be the class valedictorian," Jacqueline declared from her doorway. "Or else she'll commit suicide."

"I will not," Vicki retorted. "It's just smart to get a head start," she told me. And then she looked down at Gisselle, who wore a smirk almost as disdainful as the one on Jacqueline's face. "Welcome."

"Thank you."

"Which is our room already?" Gisselle moaned.

"Right this way, dear," Mrs. Penny said and directed us to the open doorway. The moment Daddy wheeled Gisselle in she wailed.

Two single beds were side by side separated by a night table. There was a closet on the right and a closet on the left. Adjacent to the beds, with just enough room between the bed and them for Gisselle's wheelchair, were two dark wood dressers, the wood matching the bed frames and headboards. At the right of the doorway was a small vanity table with a mirror a quarter of the size of the one we had in our rooms in New Orleans. The windows were above the headboard and had the same plain cotton curtains. The walls were covered with a simple flower-pattern wallpaper and otherwise unadorned. The floors were uncovered hardwood.

"This is too small! How are we going to share this?

There's not enough room in here for my things, let alone Ruby's too."

"I'm glad someone else thinks so," Jacqueline chorused from behind us.

"Now don't you fret, dear," Mrs. Penny said. "I have storage space you can have."

"I didn't bring my things to put them into storage. I brought them to use."

"Oh dear," Mrs. Penny said, turning to Daddy.

"It'll be all right," he assured her. "We'll bring in what is most necessary first, and then—"

"Everything is most necessary," Gisselle declared unrelentingly.

"Maybe she can put some of her things in Abby's room too," Mrs. Penny suggested. "Abby's by herself," she added.

"Who's Abby? Where is she?" Gisselle demanded.

"She hasn't arrived yet. She's our other new girl," Mrs. Penny said, directing herself to Daddy, who nodded. "Whatever, don't you worry your little heart, dear. Mrs. Penny is here to make things work and keep her girls happy. I have been doing it for a long time," she said, smiling. Gisselle turned away and pouted.

"Let me start bringing their things in," Daddy said. "Do you want me to help, Daddy?" I asked.

"No. Stay with your sister," he said, raising his eyebrows. I nodded, and he left with Mrs. Penny.

Jacqueline, Kate, Samantha, and Vicki gathered in our doorway.

"Why did you bring so much?" Vicki asked. "Didn't you know you don't need a big wardrobe? We wear uniforms."

"I will not wear a uniform!" Gisselle screamed.

"You have to," Kate said and followed it with a short laugh.

"I don't have to. I can't. I have special problems," Gisselle declared. "I'm sure my father will arrange for my wearing my own clothing, and there just isn't enough closet space in here for all my things. They'll have to remain in the trunks, taking up the little space we have."

Vicki shrugged. "You don't spend all that much time in your room anyway," she pointed out. "Most of the time we're out here doing our work."

"Most of the time you are," Jacqueline said. "Not us. So what part of Louisiana are you girls from?"

"New Orleans," I said. "The Garden District."

"That's beautiful," the doll-like Samantha said. "My daddy took me there last year when we visited New Orleans. Maybe I walked right past your house."

Gisselle turned her wheelchair so she could look more directly at the girls.

"And where are you all from?"

"I'm from Shreveport," Jacqueline said. "Chubs is from Pineville, and Vicki is from Lafayette."

"My father and I live in Natchez," Samantha said. "What happened to your mother?" Gisselle asked. "She was killed two years ago in a car accident," she replied and bit down on her lower lip quickly, all of her dimples evaporating.

"That's how I got crippled," Gisselle said angrily. It was as if she believed all the accidents were the fault of cars and not people. "If you're from Mississippi, how come you're going to school here?" Gisselle asked.

"My father's family is from Baton Rouge."

"Everyone's room is this small?" Gisselle asked, looking around.

"Yes," Jacqueline said.

"How come this Abby gets her own room?" Gisselle demanded.

"It's the way it worked out," Kate said and laughed. "The luck of the draw, maybe."

"Or maybe no one wants to room with her. We haven't met her yet either," Jacqueline said.

"You don't think she's . . ." Kate began.

"No," Jacqueline said. "They don't let them into Greenwood, no matter who protests. This is a private school," she added with some pride.

"Well, she'd better get here soon," Vicki said. "We've got to go to the orientation assembly in an hour."

"What orientation assembly?" Gisselle asked quickly.

"Didn't you read the first page in your packet? The Iron Lady always has a getting-to-know-you and getting-to-know-her assembly."

"Where she reads us the riot act," Jacqueline added. "Fire and brimstone."

"Iron Lady?" I said.

"When you hear and see her, you'll know why we call her that," Jacqueline replied.

"They're not serious about all these stupid rules listed in here, are they?" Gisselle asked, holding up the packet.

"She is, and you had better pay attention to the demerits. Chubs can tell you about that," Jacqueline said, nodding at Kate.

"Why?" I asked.

"I got ten last year and had to wash out the bathrooms for a whole month," she complained. "And don't let anyone tell you girls are neater than boys. They leave the bathrooms disgusting," she said,

"You won't ever see me washing any bathrooms," Gisselle said.

"I doubt she would punish you that way," Vicki said.

"Why?" Gisselle demanded sharply. "Because I'm in a wheelchair?"

"Of course," Vicki said, undaunted. Gisselle considered a moment and then smiled. "Maybe this isn't so bad then. Maybe I can get away with a lot more than the rest of you."