Swimming Sideways book cover won the Indie Reader Best Fiction Cover award for 2020!

EXCERPT

 Chapter One: Wishing for the Awesome Power of Invisibility

Good Abby has the job of keeping Bad Abby in place on her first day at a new school. I’m hopeful Bad Abby will stay in her cage, though at times, keeping her caged is more work than it’s worth. It’s important, however, and Good Abby knows this more than anyone. This is a chance to start fresh.

When the teacher says my name, “Abby Kaiāulu?” I cringe, wishing I could throw that in the cage too. My Hawaiian name doesn’t allow for anonymity and that is a rule of Good Abby: remain anonymous.

“Here,” I say. I’ve chosen a tone to communicate indifference. Not too loud to express exuberance, but not too quiet to raise any flags of social concern. Instead, an even tone to express, maybe, boredom but without an edge should be neutral enough to be forgettable.

Another rule by Good Abby: Don’t draw attention.

The teacher looks at me. She’s cute with wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of an upturned nose. Her white skin is dotted with freckles and her auburn hair cut short and fluffy around her face. “Did I pronounce your last name correctly?” She smiles. Classic teacher move: disarm with a smile.

I nod - even though she’s butchered my name - in an effort to steer the center-stage light onto whatever awaits us in US History. While being at a new school is a positive thing, Good Abby knows how important it is to make a good first impression. It is imperative to hide the truth of what I did, to keep what happened at my last school from happening here too.

Next rule established by Good Abby: Stay under the radar.

Freckle-nose teacher says, “Would you say it please?”

I sigh. “Abby Kaw-ee-aaawww-oo-loo."

Teacher makes a note on her clipboard.

I return to doodling waves in the margin of my clean notebook wishing I was in the waves at Makaha with perfect sets of four to six faces rolling in on a clear and calm, sunny day. I imagine the azure water stretching toward the horizon, the kai wrapped around my body like a hug. Sitting inside a school room for lessons about US History would be pointless.

But pixie-teacher isn’t thinking about waves at Makaha Beach like I am when she says, “Such a pretty name, Abby. What is the ethnicity? It’s so unique.”

I blink and force myself not to roll my eyes, keeping Bad Abby in check. Every pair of eyes in the room, at least twenty of them, are now on me at this third, pointed question. I sink a little lower in my desk chair and answer her. “It’s Hawaiian.”

“Hawaiian. Wow!” Her eyes grow to nearly the same circumference as her glasses, and her smile is extra bright. “I want to travel to Hawaii,” she adds. Bad Abby offers the following snide observation: you and a majority of the rest of the world. Good Abby is able to keep Bad Abby’s snarky comment internal, however, and focuses on Tinker Bell teacher’s words. “We’ll study the overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy later this year, the imprisonment of the Queen, and the annexation,” she says. Guilt bubbles up a little at Bad Abby’s ill-manners, and I wonder if Perky Teacher will teach that annexation was illegal? “Welcome to Cantos, Abby,” Good Fairy Teacher finishes.

I force a slight smile to acknowledge her comments, but not too flashy. I don’t want to encourage this interrogation any further.

Even though the teacher finally moves on to today’s lesson about how to take notes for the lecture, I can still feel the eyes of the other students in the class boring into me, trying to mine me for secrets. Everyone else has had nearly two weeks to acclimate to the school year, and for many of them a lifetime of knowing one another. It’s my first day as a junior at Cantos High School. Right now, I’m wishing that CHS stood for Camouflage High School, a place where I can blend into everything around me due to my awesome power of invisibility.