Chapter 17
LACHLAN
He beams at me. “Yeah! It was amazing. His voice is sooo good. I love his new album.”
“Me, too. I’m bummed I missed the show, but it sold out too fast.”
“My cousin got me tickets.” The kid keeps talking about the concert, but the moment Isak walks in the room, I stop hearing anything. My body starts vibrating at a higher frequency. There’s a prickly sensation all across my skin. I don’t even need to look. I just know he’s there.
“Yeah,” I say to the kid, not sure what he was talking about. Then I look over my shoulder.
Yep, Isak’s there, hanging with his friends.
We lock eyes, and my heart bangs in my chest. I take a long, deep breath and tug on my friendship bracelet, making sure it’s tucked under my watch. I can chance acknowledging him. We do that.
I give him an up nod from a safe distance away.
He returns it with a smile, which makes my nerve endings tingle. Isak has a dimple when he smiles. I want to stick my tongue in it … which I think is frowned upon. At least, not without his permission.
It doesn’t count if you never touch him.
Then Isak winks, and I turn back to the kid in front of me as we shuffle ahead in line. “What are you going to get?” I ask him. Why are my cheeks burning? Stop it.
“I dunno.”
“I’d stay away from the pizza,” I say. “The turkey sandwich is usually good.”
On Tuesday (209 days), I sit bleary-eyed in first period honors English and glance at a certain dark-haired guy sitting across the room. This is my only class with Isak. Our eyes meet, and I quickly avert my gaze.
I feel like I’m about thirteen, not eighteen. But if people see me looking at him, won’t they be able to tell what I’m feeling?
Maybe I am a good actor. Maybe I should do the musical.
Under my desk, I finish a silent Linguikk lesson, matching up words in French. Gotta keep my streak going.
Ms. Gaston is going on about the reading assignment, which is The Martian by Andy Weir. “What is courage?” she asks.
I liked the book, but fatigue makes me yawn. Last night was tough. Ivy got into it with Uncle Norm again, and I spent hours outside, first walking, then running, and finally sitting huddled in the irrigation ditch I go to when I can’t be anywhere else.
“It’s being brave,” Jasmine says. I restrain an eye roll. I glance over at Isak, who smirks. Is he thinking the same thing?
Ms. Gaston nods. “Yes, and?”
“Not being cowardly,” Aracely says. Also obviously.
“True.” Ms. Gaston looks around. “Any other definitions?”
“It’s confronting reality and forcing yourself not to look away,” Zanita says.
“In The Martian, Mark Watney is in what seems like an impossible situation, but he keeps searching for a solution anyway. He uses science to figure out how he can live on Mars and how he can get back to Earth. And while I’m sure there was a part of him that was tempted to give up, if he wanted to live, he had no other choice. ”
Isak speaks up. “Courage doesn’t have to be loud. It can be quiet. Sometimes it’s staying when you want to leave. Or leaving when you know you can’t stay. In Watney’s case, it was figuring out how to live when the environment was literally going to kill him.”
My vision blurs as I stare at him, and then my gaze drops to my hands in my lap. I draw my arms closer to my body.
Staying when you want to leave. Leaving when you know you can’t stay.
“Mark Watney did the thing he was most frightened of,” Isak continues. “Deliberately.” He grins. “I think it was listening to disco music.”
The class laughs, because the character complained that the other crewmembers left him what he thought was horrible music, but I’m stuck on Zanita’s and Isak’s words.
What reality do I not look at? All of it.
What am I scared of? Every single damn thing. I’m scared of being alone and of being with people. Of being myself and of losing myself.
I rub my pant leg. I want to get out of this room.
“Why do we value courage?” Ms. Gaston asks.
“Because it’s interesting,” a girl says. “We like watching other people do the things we can’t.”
“Because it’s tough,” I blurt. “Doing something you’re scared of is really difficult.”
Isak gives me a soft look. I almost can’t handle it.
Ms. Gaston nods. “It is. What are some examples of everyday courage?”
The class starts talking all at once.
“Telling off a bully.”
“Public speaking.”
“Going out of the house if you’re depressed.”
“Saving the world from an asteroid.”
“Choosing to do the right thing when it’s hard to do.”
“My mom says courage is being scared and doing it anyway.”
Ms. Gaston nods again. “You all have the right idea. Open your books to page 35. How does Weir use the theme of courage and scientific resourcefulness to get the point across …”
But I’m tuned out and thinking about myself.
Am I courageous? No. I always want to escape. Nausea hits me as I think about how badly I need to get out of my house, where people do nothing but fight.
If I tried out for the musical, would I be confronting one fear while avoiding another? Likely so.
But would it mean I’d get to spend more time with Isak? Absolutely.
Okay, fuck it. I’m trying out.
When I step out of class, I stop the first drama kid I see: Malik. Isak has already scooted off somewhere else, which is probably for the best. It means my courage doesn’t get tested quite as hard right away.
“Hey, what do I need to do to audition for the musical?”
Malik’s eyebrows rise, but he nods as if I didn’t just surprise him.
He pulls out his phone and asks for my number to send me a link.
“That’s the sign-up. There’s an organizational meeting after school tomorrow in the main theater, but that’s information only.
You don’t need to be ready with anything.
You can request which character you’d like to be, if you’re only interested in certain ones, but it’s not necessary. ”
“Do I have to memorize anything for the audition?”
He does a seesaw motion with his hand. “You need to sing a song and read a few lines from the script, but not a full scene. I think it’s more important for them to get an idea if you can project to the audience and carry a tune. Find a backing track on the internet, and you can sing along.”
I nod. “Cool. Okay. Thanks.”
Malik gives me a genuine smile. “Have you read the script?”
“No, I’d never heard of Browser History. Do you have an extra?”
“I don’t. I’m doing tech. I can ask Zanita or Isak if you can borrow theirs.”
“No, I don’t want to take theirs. Do I need to read it before the tryout?”
“I don’t think it’s totally necessary.”
“I’ll read it if I get a part, then. Is it a good story?”
Malik bounces on the balls of his feet. “It’s a very cool idea about this future society.” He tells me more about the plot, some kind of weird science fiction thing.
“Awesome. I’m going for it.”
He pats me on the back. “Then break a leg, man.”
It sounds funny, even though I know he means good luck. “Thanks. You, too.”