Nice Try, Jane Sinner Read online

  Contents

  * * *

  Title Page

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Nice Try, Jane Sinner

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Connect with HMH on Social Media

  Clarion Books

  3 Park Avenue

  New York, New York 10016

  Copyright © 2018 by Lianne Oelke

  All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to [email protected] or to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 3 Park Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, New York 10016.

  Clarion Books is an imprint of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company.

  www.hmhco.com

  Cover art and hand-lettering © 2018 by Colin Mercer

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Names: Oelke, Lianne, author.

  Title: Nice try, Jane Sinner / Lianne Oelke.

  Description: Boston ; New York : Clarion Books, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, [2018] | Summary: “Jane Sinner, a 17-year-old dropout, sets out to redefine herself through a series of schemes and stunts, including participating in a low-budget reality TV show at her local community college”—Provided by publisher.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016035569 | ISBN 9780544867857 (hardcover)

  Subjects: | CYAC: High school dropouts—Fiction. | Universities and colleges—Fiction. | Reality television programs—Fiction. | Internet television—Fiction. | Diaries—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.O35 Ni 2018 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016035569

  eISBN 978-1-328-82884-2

  v1.1217

  For Dana and Goose

  NO TRESPASSING

  VIOLATORS WILL BE SHOT

  SURVIVORS WILL BE SHOT AGAIN

  MARCH

  FriMar4

  I’m not a particularly good daughter, but I sat through a month of therapy for my parents’ sake. I’d like to think they got more out of it than I did. Couldn’t have been too hard. Any system that requires the patient’s family to pay someone else to care about her is fundamentally flawed. But I digress. If my decision to stop attending therapy means James Fowler High School no longer welcomes me as a student, I guess that’s on me.

  The novelty of playing hooky has worn off, and I’m desperate to fill my time with something other than introspection, the occasional afternoon stocking groceries, and Mario Kart.

  Bonnie just texted me. She wants me to burst through the clouds like the beautiful ray of sunshine that I am and come to a party tonight where everyone is apparently super super stoked to see me again. I told her it’s too dangerous. I have been known to blind others with my relentlessly sunny disposition. I may be desperate for a change, but I’m not desperate enough to face a party full of ex-classmates. Bonnie is a better person than I will ever be, so she promised to stop by later for whatever garbage I’ll be binge watching on my laptop.

  So that’s nice. It’s also nice to write in here. I haven’t written in this journal for months. It’s kind of funny that the only time I don’t write in here is when a therapist says I should. But I needed a break from myself. Understandably, I think.

  SunMar6

  Ditching school five months before grad isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s too late to catch up now. I dropped the ship, that ball has sailed, Jane Sinner has left the building. Everyone is still a little scared to ask what I’m going to do now because they know I have no fucking clue. The parents certainly didn’t see this coming. They’re still scrambling to find “the window God must have opened, since he closed this particular door.” I’m old enough to close doors on my own, thank you very much. But the parents don’t want to hear that. They want to hear me say, “Why yes, I’d love to come with you to church this morning.” Not “I can’t, I have to catch up on a variety of reality television shows.”

  They thought if Bonnie came over for lunch after the service, it would encourage me to at least shower and put on a bra by the time they got home. It didn’t.

  Apparently, Bonnie’s fashion choices are rubbing off on Carol. They both decided to wear skinny jeans and fluorescent baggy sweaters to church, which annoyed the parents. Carol kept getting her sleeve caught in her lasagna while we ate.

  DAD

  I wish you would have come with us this morning, Jane.

  MOM

  You used to love going to church.

  I also used to love running around half-naked with crayons up my nose because I thought they looked like fangs. I take comfort in knowing people can change.

  DAD

  You know, the best way to move on is to get back in the swing of things. There’s nothing wrong with taking some more classes. You could use more structure in your life. Some order.

  It’s like he didn’t even notice that I had divided my salad into a rainbow of vegetables.

  JS

  You’re meowing up the wrong tree.

  DAD

  [Sigh.]

  Barking, Jane. It’s barking up the wrong tree.

  BONNIE

  Cats chase small animals up trees too, you know.

  DAD

  Yeah, well. You don’t want to end up like your Aunt Gina, Jane. You can’t make a decent living for your kids by sitting at home all day, “being funny” and writing Lord knows what for the internet.

  JS

  I don’t have kids, Dad.

  MOM

  Oh, please. Can’t we all just get along for one meal? Bonnie, how have you been lately? Is school going well for you?

  I guess that’s why they invited her over. Not only is she a conversational buffer, she’s also a reminder that even bisexual girls with tattoos can have their shit together, so why don’t I?

  BONNIE

  Yeah, school is going okay, I guess. We all miss Jane.

  CAROL

  Janie’s gonna go to community college instead. That’s what the guidance counselor thinks she should do, anyway.

  BONNIE

  Oh really? She didn’t mention that to me.

  JS

  That’s because I’m not going.

  CAROL

  [rolling her eyes]

  Well, you can’t just not go back to school!

  JS

  Thanks, Obvious McObviouspants.

  DAD

  Well. You can at least go to the information session tomorrow. It’ll be good for you to explore your options.

  MOM

  We talked to Pastor Ron this morning, and he thinks that finishing your diploma at Elbow River is a good idea.

  The parents are Pastor Ron’s biggest fans, so if he thinks an idea is good, my parents think it’s great. I think he’s all right (for a pastor), but I’m not convinced he’s the most qualified authority figure in my life, considering that my apathy toward his church was the domino that broke the camel’s back. I’d tell the parents that, but they get frustrated when I use idioms incorrectly.

  MonMar7

  Carol told me I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I told her to bite me.

  CAROL

  No one says that anymore, Janie! And stop tagging embarrassing pics of me on Facebook. Mom always has to comment on each one. She’s on a roll this morning.

  JS

  I can do what I want.

  I took Carol’s Pop-Tart out of the toaster and ate it in front of her to drive the lesson home.

  JS

  Respect your elders.

  I’d like to say I’m going to the info meeting because I care about my parents’ happiness. But really it’s because I’ve racked my b
rain trying to answer the question Well, what else are you going to do with yourself, Jane? and I’ve got nothing. Just restlessness and understimulation and this constant hum in my body from energy wasted on Netflix. I need to run a marathon or something. I hate living in limbo.

  From a distance, Elbow River Community College looked half-decent. Up close, it was just a fresh paint job and decorative glass designed to look like windows. I distrusted it already. It was bigger than I had imagined. Not that my imagination has been getting a chance to shine lately.

  I stopped in the bathroom on my way to room 213. You can tell a lot about an establishment from its bathroom maintenance. This bathroom looked like it was recently renovated as cheaply as possible. Small, but cleanish. No GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN! Or JAKE S. IS FULL OF CHLAMYDIA N LIES! scrawled on the stalls. I did find a pamphlet tucked behind the tampon dispenser, featuring a girl with a perm and a turtleneck holding a pregnancy pee stick too close to her face. It was called Tracy’s in Trouble! I would have stayed and learned a thing or two, but I was late as it was.

  The classroom had twenty other potential students in it, all of whom looked even less excited to be there than I was. A middle-aged man leaned awkwardly on the teacher’s desk. His ass barely grazed the wooden surface, the same way cautious girls hover over public toilets. Maybe it was the stiffness of his pressed slacks that wouldn’t allow his legs to bend. He was the kind of tall that constantly invites strangers to comment on how tall he is.

  TALL GUY

  The weather is fine up here, thank you.

  JS

  I wasn’t going to say anything.

  TALL GUY

  Cool.

  He’s also the kind of guy that makes me cringe every time he says something remotely modern. Even “cool.”

  TALL GUY

  As I was explaining to everyone else here, when we started at three—​

  Yes, I know I’m late. Thanks for the reminder, though.

  TALL GUY

  —​you can call me Mr. Dubs. That’s short for Mr. W, which is short for Mr. Wickershnitzel.

  That’s probably for sure not his real name, but he didn’t expect me to remember it anyway.

  JS

  Nice to meet you.

  MR. DUBS

  Likewise, Ms. . . .

  JS

  Sinner. Jane Sinner.

  Anyone who addresses me as “Ms.” or “Miss” is automatically someone I would rather not talk to. I resisted the urge to check my phone to see if the hour was up yet.

  Mr. Dubs explained that he’s the Youth Reengagement Program Admissions Coordinator and High School Integration Adviser. Or something to that effect.

  MR. DUBS

  You should have all received an email with links to our new website, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Tumblr, and Instagram accounts. Here at Elbow River we believe in building a sustainable community, materially and mentally, so I’m excited to let you know we’ve recently committed to a paperless future!

  The students broke into scattered applause. Just kidding. They didn’t.

  MR. DUBS

  However, we still have a ways to go, and for now I’m required to hand you this piece of paper. I apologize.

  The girl in front of me passed the paper back. Under the Elbow River logo the hashtags #COMMUNITY #SUSTAINABILITY and #FREEDOM were printed. I couldn’t wait to make fun of this place to Bonnie. Mr. Dubs spent the next hour going over the school philosophy (“We believe in philosophy, not policy”). I started a tally of how many times Mr. Dubs used the word sustainability in his talk but gave up after sixteen. He also reviewed the logistics of completing a certain number of high school credits over the spring term. He said it’s possible to study through the summer term as well, if we’re interested in earning college credits too. But if I attend community college, I’ll want to get out as quickly as possible.

  After the talk came the application form, which was broken down into three sections: name, address, and credit card information. I didn’t fill it out. I got the feeling Elbow River was the Venus flytrap of last-resort education and it would clamp down on any student with a pulse. Even students like me. I was half-afraid Mr. Dubs would pull me aside to discuss my “history.” But I can’t be the only one with a “history” here. The other prospective students seem normal enough, but they’re all here for a reason, too.

  The required aptitude test came last. Maybe I’d discover a hidden talent for Sustainable Basket Weaving or Intergenerational Social Media Communications. A girl can dream. It took Mr. Dubs more than twenty minutes to troubleshoot the Wi-Fi so we could do the test online. I browsed the bulletin board outside the classroom while we waited.

  Three flyers for Recreational Ceramics. Four for a car share with a picture of a man holding a cat under each arm. One handwritten Post-it note saying “smile, ur beautiful!” I can’t stand that sort of senseless optimism. And one flyer for Optimism Club. I might have trouble fitting in here. The only notice that caught my interest was for a reality show:

  ARE YOU A STUDENT LOOKING FOR CHEAP RENT AND A FREE CAR???

  My name is Alexander Park and I’m a film student. I’m looking for new and returning Elbow River students to compete in my YouTube reality show: House of Orange!

  Three guys and three girls live in a Big Brother type house and compete to win my five-year-old VW Golf (perfect condition)! The house is located near the campus and has separate bedrooms. Rent is only $200 a month (utilities and internet included). Meet some new people, do some crazy things, win yourself a car! For details and to fill out an application, go to www.houseoforangeshow.com.

  Students must be over 18 and enrolled in full-time studies for both the Spring and Summer terms.

  Maybe Bonnie and I can fit House of Orange in with America’s Next Top Model and The Bachelorette this spring. I stuffed the flyer into my bra because these jeggings don’t have pockets. The ladies also made room for the Tracy’s in Trouble! pamphlet. Maybe community college could teach me something after all.

  I spent the bus ride home trying to figure out how to tell the parents what I’m going to do. I have to play my cards right, or it won’t work.

  As soon as I walked into the kitchen, Mom turned toward the stove and began rapidly stirring a pot.

  MOM

  How’d it go, then?

  She is really quite terrible at pretending to be casual about things she cares about.

  JS

  All right. Not great. I don’t know.

  DAD

  Well, don’t-a-worry, we’re making-a-curry!

  JS

  Curry is not Italian, Dad.

  DAD

  You think you’re so smart, don’t you?

  I opened a cupboard and grabbed some clean plates for the table.

  MOM

  So, Jane? Do you think it’s . . . a possibility?

  DAD

  You know, Jane, when God closes a door, he—​

  JS

  He opens a window, I know.

  DAD

  No need for that tone, Jane.

  JS

  I just don’t know if it will work.

  MOM

  If you decide that education is no longer a priority for you, we could discuss other options. Like pitching in more around the house. Maybe paying rent.

  I set down four shiny glasses next to four shiny plates. Hiccups of doubt followed me around the table, but I said it anyway:

  JS

  I’ll go to Elbow River. But only if I move out.

  Mom set her spoon on the counter with a sharp click.

  DAD

  That’s not happening.

  MOM

  You could go back to James Fowler in the fall.

  JS

  But all my friends will have graduated already.

  MOM