I woke to the sound of rain assaulting the two windows in my
room. Groaning, I rolled over and blinked at the neon-green display of my alarm
clock. 4:32AM. Brilliant. One of those magical hours of the early morning that
left you just short of a perfect night’s sleep, but unable to fall asleep
again. I knew right then that it would be a long day.
I rolled over and tried in vain to fall asleep again. After
another half hour, I sighed and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of my
bed. Yawning and stretching, I stood up and padded out of my bedroom and into
the bathroom.
Through the thin walls of our new home I could hear my mom
shifting restlessly in her sleep and my dad’s incessant snoring. It was as I’d
figured it would be, the morning of my first day at a new school. Although a
part of me had been hoping that my mom might actually get up and maybe make me
some breakfast or wish me good luck, I knew that was pushing it.
Mom had been laid off shortly before we moved, following my
dad’s layoff two months previous. That had been what sparked the move; $1500
per month was too much for my mom’s salary combined with the unemployment
insurance. It was definitely too much once mom lost her job as well.
So now we lived on the wrong side of the tracks in Fridley,
just 10 miles from Uptown Minneapolis, where I grew up. Ten miles from all of
my friends. In some ways it was a good thing that we only moved that far, but
in others it was terrible. I could still see my friends, sure, but I knew they
wouldn’t come to Fridley.
And, of course, it meant I had to change schools. It was
September 5th, the first day of my Senior Year of high school. It
was the year that I was supposed to come out on top. My friends and I had been
set to rule Benilde, in a way, where I’d gone from Seventh Grade on, but even
my grandma’s generosity didn’t extend to transportation for that great a
distance just for school, when I’d lived pretty far from school to begin with.
I sighed as I caught a glance of my face in the bathroom
mirror. There was no way I’d fit in at Fridley High. At Benilde St. Margaret,
I’d been Gwynnie, the girl with a ton of friends. The girl that everyone liked,
or at the very least, the girl that nobody outright hated.
I showered quickly, the building’s ancient plumbing groaning
and knocking in staunch protest. It was nice to find that, if nothing else, the
building had a decent water heater.
Wrapped in my favorite fluffy bathrobe, I exited the
bathroom, absently drying my hair with a hand towel. Dad wasn’t snoring
anymore, but their light was still off, door still closed. I went into my room
to finish getting ready for school, firmly closing the door behind me.
I opted for the simplest possible option in just about every
aspect of my life. My parents thought it was because I was lazy, but really it
was because I didn’t want to waste my money on what was trendy. So I stuck to
tees, tanks, and jeans.
I finished toweling dry my hair, leaving it just slightly
damp and a bit more cooperative. I pulled on a pair of new jeans and undid my
robe. I shrugged it off my shoulders as I ran a brush through my hair, fluffing
it out just a bit. As I began to rummage through my half-unpacked boxes in
search of a shirt, there was a knock at my door.
“You’re up early,” I heard my dad say. The remark held no
emotion, it was a simple statement of fact. “Nervous?”
“Nah,” I replied, finding one of my plain tank tops and
slipping it on. My dad opened the door a crack.
“You sure?”
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, a little more harshly than
I’d intended, as I sat down at my vanity to apply the small amount of makeup I
wore and finish my hair.
“Gwyneth, I know it wasn’t your idea to change schools, but
this could be really good for you. You’ve got a clean slate here.”
“Dad, can we not?” I asked, scowling at him. He sighed.
“I’ll have breakfast ready for you in about ten minutes.
Eggs and bacon.” With that, he closed the door, leaving me a bit shocked. I
shook my head, turning back to my mirror to apply my eyeliner. I wondered
briefly if my dad had suddenly acquired mind-reading powers. I put on some
tinted lip balm and loosely braided my hair, tying it off with a rainbow hair
tie. It was nice to be able to wear what I wanted.
“Come get your food before it gets cold, Gwyn!” my dad
hollered. I rolled my eyes, grabbed my backpack, and left my bedroom, closing
the door behind me. No need to make it easier for them to snoop.
I found a heaping pile of scrambled eggs and a formidable
amount of bacon waiting for me on the kitchen table. “Thanks, Dad,” I said. He
grunted in response. He was at his desk, getting ready to look for a job all
day. At least, that’s what he said he was doing. He erased all of the browser
history whenever he left the computer.
I sat down and dug in, devouring the entire plateful. My
friends had always been envious of my metabolism. I was naturally underweight.
No matter what I ate or how much of it, I was stuck at 94 pounds. At almost
5’5, I hated it.
My parents hated it, too. In a desperate bid to gain weight,
I would gorge myself on anything I could get my hands on. When they weren’t
around, of course. I was limited to two snacks when my parents were around,
three if I could be sneaky. There were never leftovers; I was never limited
when it came to mealtime.
I walked into the main of the kitchen and grabbed my lunch
box, which was one of my dad’s old briefcases. Mom packed it full of snacks and
sandwiches, along with a quart of chocolate milk. I also had $500 in my lunch
account, and would have more deposited by my grandma as I needed it. She knew
how my need to constantly eat hurt my family’s budget.
I grabbed a banana from the counter, peeled it and ate it in
three bites, trying to destroy the evidence before my dad could realize I was
done with breakfast. Almost as if I’d called his name he appeared on the step
into the kitchen area, an eyebrow raised. “Not enough eggs?” he asked. I
sighed. Busted.
“I guess I am kinda nervous.”
“It’s a nice enough day out,” he commented, “maybe nice
enough for you to bike to school?”
“Are you kidding me?” I scoffed, gesturing at the window,
“It’s raining to beat the band out there and you’d have me bike?”
He held out his phone, a picture of a shiny blue bike pulled
up. “Grams thought you should have that. For good luck.”
“Grams bought me a bike? Really?” I exclaimed, my eyes huge.
“Oh my god, that’s so cool! I love Grams!”
“This rain’s supposed to clear up in another twenty minutes
or so, just wear your poncho until it stops. And make sure you call her after
school, okay? And don’t go riding in the middle of the road. That’s not how it
works up here in the suburbs. Stick to the sides. And I want you home right
after school, don’t go wandering off.”
“I’m almost 18! When are you guys gonna stop being so
protective of me?” I demanded. How was I supposed to make friends if I had to
come home right after school?
“Yes, almost 18.
Not quite yet. And until you’re out of our home, you’ll listen to your mother
and me.”
I sighed, vowing silently to find my own place as soon as I
turned 18. Time to start looking for a job. I glanced at the clock that hung on
the wall above the family computer. It was just past 6:00AM. I had about two
hours before I really needed to be to school, but I knew it would be a good
idea to get there early, even if it meant biking in the rain. I had a brand new
bike! I could dance the entire way to school in the rain and it wouldn’t bother
me now!
“I’ll be home right after school,” I said quietly, pushing
past him. I stopped at the front door to slip on my shoes and shrug into my
backpack. I slung the strap to the briefcase across my chest and wiggled into
my rain poncho. Thank god my bags were waterproof. I’d hate to find a soggy
sandwich in my lunch.
“Have a good day Gwynnie,” my dad called after me.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered as I slipped out, not bothering to
lock the door behind me. My dad was in his underwear. Any person who just
walked in without knocking would see far more than any reasonable human being
would want to.
Once I was outside, I had to stop and think and try to
remember what garage was ours. It wasn’t the same number as our apartment,
which was 113. I decided to just walk along until something felt familiar. It
was raining so hard that I wasn’t sure I would find it.
It turned out to be the very last garage on the second
building I walked past. I eagerly opened the garage door, practically jumping
up and down with excitement. My old bike had been decent, but the one my
grandma had bought for me was even better. Top of the line, flawless… I
couldn’t wait to test it out.
After I had the garage locked back up, I mounted my beauty
and tested it out. It rode so smoothly I thought I was riding on a cloud. The
parking lot of the complex I lived in was filled with small cracks and holes in
the pavement. It was hell to maneuver walking, and even in Mom’s Lexus it felt like we were driving over
those weird spots in the shoulder of a highway to alert drivers that they’re
about to go off the road. Constantly.
I hopped the curb onto the bike path that ran the length of
the complex and followed it as it continued alongside the neighboring complex
and a park. I hopped off the trail as it began to wind past an elementary
school and made for the playground on the other end of the parking lot. I
brought my bike up into the sand with me and I leaned against a jungle gym,
opening my lunch to find my first snack of the day.
It felt a bit strange, eating a cupcake at a playground at
six in the morning. I didn’t much care for the spot. I’d have to find a
different spot to stop the next morning.
Once my snack was finished, I looked at the sky. The rain
was starting to let up, so I got back on my bike and rode up and across the
street, following traffic. I turned right at Mississippi Street and pedaled
hard until I hit University Avenue and had to stop. The intersection was
insane. I pulled off my poncho and jammed it into the cupholder.
When the light finally changed and I could cross, I heard
someone honking their horn rather desperately off to my right. I turned and saw
someone I’d never expected to see again.
His name was Vincent. Vincent Montagna. He had been my best
friend from second grade until the beginning of high school… But he’d just
disappeared that summer. And I’d never heard from him again. Until now.
“Oh my god!” I squealed, abandoning my plan to cross and
jogged over to where he’d pulled off with my bike in tow.
He drove a bright red late model Ford pickup. He threw on
his hazard lights and climbed out through the passenger seat. “Gwyn! Is it
really you?”
“Vincie!” I squealed happily, dropping my bike and throwing
my arms around him. “When did you move to Fridley?” I demanded.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Didn’t you hear? My mom… My mom
passed away. I had to move in with my grandparents. I didn’t get to say goodbye
to anybody and I lost my list of phone numbers in the move.”
“All these years…” I murmured. “You hardly look any
different.”
“Hey, where you heading? I could drive you and we could
catch up.”
“Oh, just the high school.”
“Totino Grace?” He asked, scrunching up his nose at the
thought. I shook my head.
“No. FHS. My parents both lost their jobs. We’re kinda broke
now.”
“Oh, hon, I’m sorry!” He looked me up and down, “Don’t
worry. We’ll do something about that wardrobe. Just because you’re poor doesn’t
mean you can’t dress fabulous. And with your figure! But at least there’s one
good thing in all the bad.” I raised an eyebrow. “We’re classmates again!”
“Oh my god you’re stuck in public school too?”
“Yeah, unfortunately,” he said as he slid my bike into the
bed of his truck, being careful not to scratch the paint. “It’s been kinda
interesting though. Some of the girls in our grade have children. Multiple children.” He waggled his
eyebrows at this and I shoved him playfully.
“You’re kidding. That’s disgusting.” He gave me a boost into
the cab of his truck and then climbed over me. “Thanks for the ride,” I said
once his butt was no longer in my face.
“How could I let you keep going in this rain?” He asked. I
looked out the window.
“The sun’s coming out,” I pointed out.
“Can’t let you get sunburn,” he replied. “So, dish, what’s
been new and big since we last saw each other? I mean aside from you being a
total babe now.”
I blushed, rolling my eyes. “Oh, not much. Francie and
Shelly came out last year, shock right?”
“Because it needed to be said,” he said, stifling a chuckle.
“They’ve been cute together since fourth grade.”
“Wait, remember Clint? Yeah, he dumped me right before prom
last year.”
“You two were together for six years. I’d think you both
would’ve wanted to see other people after six months. I never did like him with you, Gwynnie.”
“Well what about you? You’ve sure gotten… big,” I said,
eyeing his nicely toned arms. He flashed me a toothy grin.
“One class I like. Strength Training. I’ve taken it every
year. I’ve still got more credits than I need.”
We sat a long moment in silence at a red light. “It’s gonna
be nice to know at least one person going into this.”
“Think of me as your own personal guide into this hell
called a high school.”
“You know, it would be a better idea on your part to tell me
the good aspects of the school instead of focusing on the fact that it
inevitably sucks?”
“Well you already know the good part. Me. No use
sugarcoating the rest of it.” I laughed.
It was a pretty short drive. “So what’re you going into
school so early for?” I asked.
“I’m supposed to help out the freshmen and other new
students. Sweet gig. Get to add community service to my letter jacket and I get free breakfast all this week.
Not the crap they serve the kids that come off the buses, oh no. I’m talkin’
breakfast burritos and pancakes and bacon.”
“But you’re only doing it for the warm feeling of giving
back to your fellow students, right?” I teased, batting my eyelashes at him.
“Of course. And since I found one of you newbies before I
even got here, I consider my giving back for the day to be complete, and I
invite you to share my feast,” he said as we pulled into a parking space near
the main door.
“Well then, I accept. But only if we can go get my schedule
first.”
“Good, then I can laugh at you for getting stuck with
teachers that suck!” I rolled my eyes at him.
We walked in and he led me to the cafeteria, which I could
have found on my own, I’m sure. It was directly in the center of the school. We
located my schedule with no trouble and hunted down my locker.
“Ugh, lucky, your locker’s right by the door. And your last
class is Chem? You’ll be out the building before anyone else is even at their
lockers!”
“Well lucky me,” I replied as I put my stuff away. I kept
the briefcase secured across my chest.
“You know you can’t have something that big as a purse,
right? They won’t let you bring that around the school.”
“Yeah they will. We came in a few days ago. Had to talk to
the principal and a bunch of office types about it. It’s got my food in. I get
cranky if I don’t have a snack just about constantly, so yeah. Plus if my
weight drops too much lower I’ll be stuck in a hospital and monitored.”
“Are you anorexic?” he asked, concerned. I shook my head.
“Are you kidding me? I love food too much. My metabolism’s
just crazy.” I stuffed a notebook into the back pocket of the briefcase and
followed Vince back to the cafeteria. True to his word, there was a feast to be
had. All the volunteers (and a few of us lucky newbies) got McDonalds breakfast
burritos.
That was when I first saw him. Across the cafeteria from
where Vince and I decided to sit stood a boy that was simply beautiful. His
skin was flawless milky white, his hair a tangle of jet-black hair pulled back
in a low, tight ponytail. Vince noticed that my attention was no longer on him
or his conversation and quickly moved to become the center of my attention
again.
“Wonder who he thinks he’s fooling with that wig,” he said,
tugging on my arm. “Anyway, looks like we’ve got mostly the same classes. I’ll
show you where my locker is and you can come wait for me after school, huh?
I’ll drive you home. It’d be nice to see your parents again.”
I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great.” When
did Vince get so clingy? I glanced back over to where the other boy had been
and sighed when I found that he was no longer there.
We finished our breakfast and I felt absolutely too full to
do anything, but Vince pulled me along, dragging me to our first class, Studio
Art.
There were only six other people in the class, at least
that’s what Vince insisted. We were the only ones in the classroom at first, so
we had our pick of what table to sit at. We decided on the one closest to the
sink at the back of the room.
As the first warning bell rang, the teacher, Mrs.
Scammahorn, finally entered the room, looking rather confused. “Oh! Didn’t see
you there. Hello Vince,” she said as she noticed us. She set down the stack of
paper she’d been carrying and made her way back to us.
“Hey Ms. S,” Vince replied with a grin, “This is Gwyneth
Howell. She’s new this year.”
“Hi,” I said, waving my hand a little. She smiled at me.
“Do ya like gettin’ messy, Gwyneth?” she asked. I could hear
a hint of a southern drawl to her voice and I wondered briefly why she’d moved
so far north. I shrugged, nodding my head slightly. “Well that’s what I like to
hear! Welcome to FHS, kid.” She scurried off into her office as other students
finally began to shuffle into the room.
After class, Vince followed me like a puppy back to my
locker. My next class, Keyboarding I, was one of the two classes we didn’t
share. Of course, that wasn’t about to stop him from walking me to class and
hovering awkwardly close until just before the bell rang for second period.
I sat near the back of the computer lab and scribbled in a
notebook while the teacher, Mr. Terebayza, passed out worksheets and lists of
additional supplies we’d need to bring for the class. About ten minutes into
his first day lecturing, the door opened and that boy I’d seen earlier walked
in. My heart skipped a beat as our eyes met.
“Sorry, Mr. Terebayza,” he began, “I’ve got a pass. I had to
see the nurse. Burnt myself in Gym.”
The teacher took the boy’s pass and looked it over, then
glared at him. “All right, Gerard. Let’s not make a habit of it like last year
in English Lit. There’s one open computer, back next to Gwyneth. Raise your
hand, Gwyneth.” I flushed bright red, my arm shaking as put up my hand.
The boy, Gerard, smirked when he saw me, and strode quickly
to the computer to my right. He turned on his computer and immediately went on
the internet. I tried to focus on the doodle I was working on in my notebook,
but I couldn’t help but stare at him.
It was the closest I’d ever been to such a thing of beauty
as that boy. Maybe if my parents had taken me to more museums when I was a
child I’d have been better equipped to handle living statues carved by the gods
themselves.
“Can I help you?” His voice was deep and vibrant, almost
lyrical. I jumped, realizing I’d turned in my chair to face him. I quickly
turned my attention to the front of the room, feeling my face flush red again.
“Well?” He persisted.
“I- Uh- Well…” And the
award for Most Articulate Teenage Girl goes to… I thought miserably.
“I’m Gerard,” he said after a moment. His introduction only
served to fluster me further.
“Gwyn,” I squeaked. He grinned a nearly imperceptible grin
and turned his attention back to his computer. After a few minutes had passed
and I’d managed to not stare at him, I decided to glance over and see if I
could tell what he was doing.
He had a browser window open and was on ChirpBox, one of the
more popular social networking sites. I didn’t understand the hype. All you
could do on CB was write 200-character-or-less status updates and follow other
people’s status updates. There wasn’t even a proper way to share photos.
Terebayza wrote our first assignment on the whiteboard at
the front of the room and there was a collective groan from the rest of the
class. He would probably be the only teacher to assign actual homework on the
first day of school. At least it was easy. All we had to do was write a letter
introducing ourselves. With more than a half hour left of class, most of us
probably wouldn’t even need to worry about it as homework.
I opened Word and started banging away at the keyboard.
Typing was one of my favorite things to do. I wanted nothing more than to be a
professional writer and have nothing to do all day but read and write, so I
took all the typing classes I could to hone my skills.
As I began typing the last paragraph of my letter, I
realized that Gerard was staring at me. “You type fast,” he said when I
stopped. I glanced over at his screen. He was still on CB. I sighed.
“Not as fast as you, obviously,” I replied, “Already done?”
He chuckled.
“Actually, not even started. Don’t tell anybody, but this is
my throwaway class for the year. I’ve taken it before, at my old school. I’ll
probably just recycle last year’s introduction paragraph. Still got it on my
computer.”
“Isn’t that cheating?” I asked.
“Probably.” I smirked. A bad boy. This just kept getting
better and better.
Second period ended too quickly and Vince came in to collect
me for our next class, Strength Training. Gerard looked disappointed that Vince
was there. Honestly, I was a bit disappointed, too. As much as I liked Vince,
and as much as I’d missed him, this was getting to be too much. I would have to
remember to remind him that I needed space sometimes, too.
Still, he hovered probably two inches from me right up until
the bell rang. We were split into six squads, which was what Mr. Fowler called
our little desk-less rows. That was when I realized that Gerard was there, too.
He was to my right, three people behind Vince. He was the last person in his
row.
He seemed to realize that I was there at about the same time
because once more our eyes met. Before I looked away, I could’ve sworn I saw
him smile.
“This class is not an easy ‘a,’ guys. The only way to get an
‘a’ in my class is to give it your all every day. Slackers will not make good
grades. Horseplay will earn you detention. There is nothing inherently safe
about this class. We work with heavy weights and machines. Vigilance, constant
vigilance, will be what keeps you from losing a limb here.”
He shoved a large bucket forward with his foot. “When I call
your name, come up here and pick out a lock. Then go and find the locker number
that I give you and put your lock on that locker. Memorize your combination. Do
not leave the sticker on the back with the combination. That’s just dumb.” I
rolled my eyes, scoffing audibly. Public school kids actually had to be
reminded of this?
He began calling people up. I turned to face away from
Gerard and Vince- it was just easier to avoid the temptation of staring and
making Vince even clingier- and stretched my legs out in front of me.
“Hi!” an overly chipper female voice said from somewhere to
my left. I looked over and found a girl with wild orange curls and pale skin
that was speckled with freckles smiling at me.
“Hi,” I said, returning the smile.
“I’m Tamara Bates,” She said, looking at me expectantly.
“Uh, nice to meet you,” I said, “I’m Gwyn.”
“Oh Gwyn so good to meet you. See, I saw you in Keyboarding
and you looked like you were getting kinda friendly with the other new kid.”
“Gerard’s new too?” I asked. The way he’d spoken…
“Well, not really so new, but new enough. He transferred
here near the end of last year. You’re the first girl he’s actually spoken to
here.” So that’s what it was. Jealousy. I sighed.
“Well we weren’t really talking,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Still, he talked to you. What was it like?” I could feel
both Vince’s and Gerard’s eyes boring into the back of my skull.
“It was… like… talking?” Total
lie. “Why don’t you try talking to him yourself?”
“Are you kidding? Have you seen this boy?” She giggled.
“I guess he is kinda pretty,” I admitted. I heard muffled
laughter behind me as Mr. Fowler called my name.
“Gwyneth Howell, you’re locker 256.” I got up and crossed
the gym, grabbing a lock as I sauntered into the girls locker room. “Tamara
Bates, you’re locker 259.”
“Same locker I’ve had every year,” she said as she stood up.
As if any of us actually cared. She hurried across the gym to catch up with me.
“Hey, wait up!” She caught me at the door.
“What’s his voice like?” she asked. I stared at her in
confusion. “You know, Gerard. What’s it like when he talks?”
“Haven’t you heard him talk in class?” I asked pointedly.
She shook her head.
“He doesn’t participate. Like, ever. Ew, I sound like a
total teacher when I say that, but it’s so true. I was in a group with him last
May and he didn’t say a word the entire time. I was almost convinced he
couldn’t talk or something, y’know? So what’s his voice like?”
I stopped to think as I glanced casually at the numbers on
the lockers we passed. “Well… You know Josh Groban’s singing voice?”
“Mmm, of course I do. So dreamy.”
“It’s like that, only not quite singing. There is a musical
tone to his voice though. It’s like…” I didn’t have any proper words to
describe it.
“Like…?” She pressed.
“It’s smooth and deep. There’s the faintest accent I can’t
quite identify.”
“You should ask him to sit with us at lunch,” she said as we
finally located our lockers.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware I had plans to sit with you at
lunch. See I’ve already-”
“Look, I know, you’ve probably already heard all sorts of
things about me. But really, I’m not as mean as everyone thinks I am. You seem
like a cool girl and I wanna introduce you to some of my friends. Maybe you and
Gerard could both become regulars in my group.”
“But you see, I’ve already got a friend to sit with. Vince.”
“Vince?” She spat the name, “You’re kidding, right? Vince
Montagna?”
“Yeah, I’ve known him since we were kids. He used to be my
best friend.”
“Well that must’ve been a long time ago. He’s bad news now.”
I glared at her as I locked my locker and peeled the tape
from the back, testing the combination as quickly as my stumbling fingers could
manage. “You know, I think you can talk to Gerard on your own. I won’t be
joining you at lunch.”
I stormed out of the locker room then, shaking my head and
fuming. The nerve of that girl, thinking she could decide what I would do,
where I would go, who I would hang out with! Neither Vince nor Gerard were in
the gym when I crossed back to where everyone was congregated, so I sat back
down in my squad with the boy who sat in front of me.
Tamara didn’t come back out for the rest of class, and once
it was over she stormed up the stairs and down the hall toward the cafeteria in
a huff, glaring at me as I recounted what she’d said to Vince. He wasn’t
pleased.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said as we headed for the
cafeteria, “Tam and I dated last year, and it didn’t end well. Things were
said- and thrown- that neither of us meant. In the end I was the bad guy. I
broke up with her.”
“So now she wants to convince all other girls in school that
you’re not worth their time?” He shrugged.
“Something like that. She’s always trying to pin stuff on
me. I’m not surprised that she’d tell you I was bad news.”
“So you didn’t do anything sinister?” I asked. He shook his
head. “Good. Cuz I like you. And I wouldn’t want something nasty tainting all
my good memories of us.”
“Hopefully we’ll be able to make plenty more good memories,”
He replied with a smile that was just a little too friendly. It made me very
uncomfortable.
We found a table under a tree in the senior courtyard and
Vince ventured off to the a la carte line to get us each something to drink. I
opened my lunch and arranged it on the table neatly, deciding what I’d eat
first.
I didn’t hear Gerard approach, didn’t notice him sitting
across from me. “Hello again, Gwyneth Howell,” he said, his voice quiet. I
jumped about a half mile out of my seat and jerked my head up to look at him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked even paler out in the natural
light. His eyes were obscured by the oversized sunglasses he wore, and despite
the warmth of the day, he wore an unzipped hooded sweatshirt.
“Hi,” I said finally, my voice shaking. He was laughing
quietly and I realized too late that I probably looked like a deer in
headlights and I quickly looked down, snapping my briefcase shut.
“Hi,” he said, flashing a perfect smile. His teeth were so
white it was almost like they were glowing. I had to force myself to
concentrate on speaking.
“So, what’s up?” I asked.
“Well, I thought I might sit with you today. You looked
lonely out here, all alone.”
“Oh. Cool,” I said, “But, um… I’m not really sitting alone.
My friend Vince went to get us drinks.” I glanced up at him apologetically.
“He’s a bit clingy.”
“I know. I’ve been watching him monopolize your time. I’ve
been hoping to get you alone for a few minutes.”
As though Gerard’s words had summoned him, Vince approached
the table holding two bottles of iced tea and a cookie the size of my head.
“Hey, sorry I took so long,” He said, glaring at Gerard. I scooted over to give
him room to sit, since Gerard had taken his spot. He sat as close to me as he
could without being in my lap, putting one possessive arm around my waist.
Gerard’s eyes narrowed at this.
“So, you’re new too, then, Gerard?” I asked, trying to break
the tense silence that had fallen. He nodded once.
“Yes. I moved here from Seattle last April.”
“What prompted the move?” Vince was the one who asked the
question and I looked over at him, surprised. Gerard shrugged.
“Nothing too complicated. My mom was transferred to
Minneapolis and we moved.”
I shifted uncomfortably against Vince’s arm, trying to clue
him in to my discomfort, but he didn’t loosen his grip. The two boys stared at
each other as I scarfed down my sandwich and chips, lingering over my dessert.
I drank the rest of my chocolate milk from breakfast, replacing it in my lunchbox
with the tea Vince had gotten me.
“We’re all alike, sort of,” I said. Neither of them looked
at me, their odd little staring contest growing even more intense. “I mean,
none of us have been at Fridley for all that long. Vince and I used to attend a
private school together,” I continued, poking Vince in the side. Still no
response. Inside, the bell rang, and Vince finally let go of me. I stood up
quickly, stretching and looking expectantly at them.
After another long minute, Gerard stood up and left the
courtyard without saying a word, and Vince turned to face me. “So, ready for
Political Science?” he asked with a slight grin.
“I guess. What was all that about?”
He led me back into the school and down the social studies
hall. “What was all what about?” he asked, very obviously playing dumb. I
rolled my eyes.
“That little staring contest you two had. And that business
of grabbing my waist. I think I’m gonna have a bruise.”
“I don’t like him,” he said after thinking for a moment. We
walked into the classroom and groaned to find that there was already a seating
chart. We were on opposite sides of the room from each other. Still, that
didn’t stop Vince from taking up residence in the desk next to mine until the
bell rang and Mrs. Rmayti caught him out of his own seat. Whoever was supposed
to sit next to me never showed.
Mrs. Rmayti was very young and intensely beautiful. She wore
a plain black abaya and an intricately wrapped purple and blue hijab. “Hello
class,” she said as we settled into our seats, “Welcome to your senior year. I
want to be the first to tell you congratulations! You’ve almost done it! But I
also must warn you that you’re not done yet. I’ve done my best to make this a
fun class in the two years I’ve taught it now, but I still expect a lot of
effort out of every single one of you.”
About half of the class groaned and she got this stern look
on her face. “I don’t have to make this fun for you. That is a choice and it is
only mine to make.” I could tell it would be a long trimester if she got this
defensive over something as trivial as everyone groaning about something.
Across the room, I could see Tamara glaring at me. I knew she’d seen Gerard
come sit by me at lunch and I could tell she was going to be a problem.
Just what I needed, an enemy on the first day of school.
Mrs. Rmayti droned on about what we’d be covering this term
and made us each stand up and tell a random fact about ourselves to the rest of
the class. How embarrassing. Tamara’s fact was that she’d met some kid from a
band I didn’t like. Vince’s was that used to be kind of a geek, which made most
of the boys in class laugh. He’d obviously asserted himself as a jock, as
evidenced by the heavily muscled arm he’d held onto me with at lunch.
When it was my turn to speak, I stood up and said, “I’m
Gwyneth Howell...” Everyone stared at me, expecting me to say something about
myself but I couldn’t think of anything interesting. “I, uh, I like to read.”
I sat down quickly, hiding my face in my arms. A few of the
same boys who’d laughed at Vince roared with laughter. “She likes to read!” One
of them spat, “What a nerd!”
“James,” Mrs. Rmayti scolded, “go to the office. Now.” The
boy stood up, still laughing, and strutted out of the classroom as Vince stared
him down.
“Not funny, bro,” he hissed as James passed him.
When the bell rang I was out of my seat like a shot, and
Vince had to jog to catch up with me in the hall. “Hey,” he called, “Gwyn, wait
up.” I slowed my pace but didn’t stop for him as I weaved through the crowd of
students clamoring for their lockers. “Gwyn, James is a dumbass. Don’t listen
to his shit. You’re awesome and he can’t handle that.”
“It isn’t the cool thing to do,” I said, “I understand. You
jocks don’t like building your brains, just your muscles.”
“Hey, why are you attacking me? You know I love reading.”
“I’m not,” I said, an exasperated sigh escaping my lips, “I-
Vince, I’m sorry. I just need some space, okay? It’s awesome that we’re at the
same school again but you’re kinda smothering me.”
But he was already walking down the hall, away from me. I
shook my head and headed back to my locker before my last class of the day. I
wasn’t looking forward to Chemistry but I knew that I wouldn’t have to deal
with Vince, at least. He never did tell me what his last hour class was, but
he’d always hated science. Since Chem was an elective, I knew he wouldn’t be
caught dead there.
I stood at my locker, organizing my notebooks and textbooks
so I wouldn’t have to linger after class. I hoped Vince wouldn’t forget that my
bike was in the back of his truck, but I had to be prepared to walk, just in
case. I slammed my locker shut and walked into the chemistry classroom. I was
pleasantly surprised to see Gerard sitting near the back of the room, and he
waved at me as I walked back to the seat next to him.
“Hey,” I said, “Are you as excited about this class as I
am?” I asked, trying to feign some enthusiasm. I hadn’t really been all that
interested in Chemistry, but it looked good on my transcripts, and I still
hadn’t applied to college. I was pushing to have a year off after graduation,
but my Dad and Gran didn’t want me to waste my potential. I still had a couple
of months to apply anyway.
“Hey,” he replied, “So. Your friend Vince, he always that
possessive?”
“He used to be clingy but never like today at lunch. I’m
sorry.”
“What’ve you got to be sorry about? He’s the one with the
issues, not you.”
“Hi Gwyn!” A familiar- and unwelcome- voice called, and I
turned to find Tamara approaching with dangerous speed, “I didn’t know you
liked science.”
“Of course you didn’t?” I gave her a confused look. Gerard
turned his attention to his notebook.
“So, what’re you doing after school?” she asked, “Some of us
are gonna go back in the dunes and hang out.”
“The dunes?”
“You know that disgusting patch of land across the street?
That’s the dunes,” Gerard informed me quietly. Tamara was so awestruck at his
voice that she couldn’t even defend her hangout.
“So she was telling the truth. Your voice is as beautiful as
you are,” she said far more loudly than I would have liked her to. I flushed
beet red and Gerard gave me an amused look. Tamara chose the seat right in
front of him. As the bell rang, she leaned across the aisle and said, “You’re
welcome to come, you know.” She turned to glance at Gerard, “You’re welcome,
too.”
“Thanks, not interested,” he muttered.
I shook my head. “Gotta be home right after school, sorry.”
After school, I dawdled in the parking lot for a long time,
watching Vince’s van to make sure he didn’t leave before I could remind him of
my bike. I was about to start walking home when strong arms scooped me up from
behind and I found myself being slung over Vince’s shoulder. “Vince find pretty
girl, take back to cave,” he grunted in a caveman voice. I squealed, laughing
and playfully pounding on his back.
“You’re not mad at me?” I asked as he set me down by his
truck. He cocked his head.
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“Well I snapped at you earlier and-”
“Don’t worry about it.” There was a certain coolness to his
tone, so I decided not to press the matter. He unlocked the doors and I climbed
into the truck, buckling my seatbelt as he started the engine. “You got time
for a milkshake?” he asked. I shook my head.
“Sorry, my parents are expecting me home right away. Maybe
some other time?” I asked. He smiled and nodded.
“Of course,” he said, “Some other time.”
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