Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
I don’t bother going to my locker. Sure, it would be nice to drop off some of the bricks I’m carrying around with me, but it isn’t worth running into Sadie. I’m not ready to face her . . . not after what happened in the cafeteria.
I head straight for my first period class, but before I sit down at my desk, Ms. Smith says, “Mrs. Williams asked to see you again this morning.”
“Great,” I mumble and drag my legs back out the door.
I navigate the hallway of high schoolers, avoiding as many looks as possible by keeping my eyes on my feet. I only glance up when turning the corner to make sure there’s a clear path to the stairs.
Mrs. Williams’s door is wide open, just like the day before. When I step into her office, she pushes her glasses up, smiling. “Hello, Becca.”
I linger near the doorway, not wanting to give the impression that I’m willing to stay more than a few minutes. “You wanted to see me?”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers together. “Yes.” She smiles.
My frown deepens.
“We’ve come to an agreement for your graduation requirements.”
My foot taps, already anticipating the moment I can leave. I fold my arms in front of me. “Well?”
She flips open the binder on her desk and skims one of the pages. “Each of your teachers have agreed to create a test that would cover all the information from last semester. Your grades from that semester would be wiped out and replaced by your score on each of these tests.”
My mouth twists in thought, calculating how many hours I’ll have to study to learn it all. “I guess it could be worse.”
“There’s one more thing we need to discuss.” She takes her glasses off, setting them next to the binder. Then, she looks back up at me, pausing too long. “Your tutoring.”
I gulp. “And?”
She takes a deep breath, clearly preparing to tell me something she knows I won’t like. I brace myself. “You aren’t the only one who missed the majority of last semester.”
Who else could she be talking about? And what does it have to do with me?
She clears her throat before continuing. “You’ll be tutoring Sadie James in math. She’s having a hard time catching up with the class, and I think it would be good for you both.”
Her words don’t register in my brain.
Sadie?
My legs turn to jello, wobbling.
I grab on to the edge of Mrs. Williams’s desk to steady myself. “You can’t be serious?”
She tilts her head. “I thought you’d be thrilled? You used to be inseparable. I remember seeing you in the halls together all the time.”
Punishment. That’s what the school is giving me under the false pretense of “helping me graduate.”
I cross my arms and lean toward the door. “Well, we aren’t like that anymore.”
“I’ve already talked with Sadie.”
She probably thinks this will result in us moving on and laughing like old times, but that’s not what’s going to happen. I don’t want that. I don’t want to see her at all. “What if I say no?”
“Without the volunteer hours, you won’t graduate, but you’re more than welcome to try and complete the one hundred hours if you feel that would be a better option for you.”
It’s not fair that every single choice lately has been between two evils.
I could argue, but I have no leverage and no counterpoints. My head aches, and heat rushes to my face. The room is starting to get smaller, and smaller. All I want to do is get out of here and hide somewhere that no one will find me.
“Is that it? Are we done?” That’s all I can force out.
“That’s everything, for now, but I want you to meet Sadie in the library after school tomorrow.”
My jaw clenches, and I stare at the door. I paw at my sleeves, pulling them over my hands as my stomach aches.
“Becca?”
I look back at her.
“Will you be there?”
“I have to go,” I say, leaving the room before she can stop me.
My stomach growls as the smell of hamburgers and tater tots fill the school on my walk toward the cafeteria. So far, this morning has been nothing but lecture after lecture, and my brain is mush. All I want is to sit down and eat. I even brought my own lunch from home to avoid another catastrophe.
Rounding the corner, I’m only a few feet away from the doors.
“Becca.” Sadie appears out of nowhere, tapping my shoulder.
I cringe before turning to face her, and even then, I can’t bring myself to look at her. My eyes lock on my shoes and their mess of laces.
“Did Mrs. Williams talk to you about the tutoring?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nod. My back is tensing up, coiling like a spring. I want to run.
“If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay.” She pauses to take a deep breath. “I know you’re probably busy.”
She makes it sound like I have a choice in any of this, like tutoring her is optional.
“It’s fine.” I look up at her briefly, taking in her orange eyeshadow and lip-glossed smile.
She’s trying to act normal, but I’ve been around her long enough to know she’s uncomfortable right now. The smile is nothing but a mirage—a decoy to hide what she’s really feeling. Her timid request is her way of probing the situation to see if I’m still upset.
“Well, my grades are pretty bad in math, so I’m going to need a lot of help,” she says.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll meet you in the library tomorrow after school.”
She stands there, staring at me. It’s as if she’s waiting for me to say more, but when I don’t, she smiles again nervously. “Did you want to sit with me?”
“I kind of need some time alone,” I say.
She nods. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Next time.”
“Yeah, next time,” I whisper.
She rocks on her heels, shifting her weight before committing to moving forward. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”
I lag behind, giving her time to walk in and create a safe distance between us.
The avoidance is automatic, but it’s also strange.
Guilt builds inside of me as I watch her wander the cafeteria alone until she settles on a corner seat at the back of an empty table.
I should be right beside her, but it hurts too much.
Slowly, I step forward as more kids flock inside.
“Come here often?” Caleb asks, falling into step beside me.
I shift my gaze up. “Do you need something?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Something’s wrong with my phone.”
The phone in his hand lights up and looks perfectly fine. He even unlocks it and swipes to the right.
“What’s wrong with it?” I ask.
He sighs, holding it out to me. “It doesn’t have your number.”
I push it away. “And it still doesn’t.”
“Oh, come on. That was smooth,” he says with a half laugh.
I grimace. “What? No. That was so cringey my ears are bleeding.”
He continues to follow me. “Don’t you think it would make sense for us to have each other’s numbers? What if one of us is running late or what if one of us gets sick? Do you really expect me to go knock on your door every time I need to tell you something?”
I find a table and sit down. “It’s worked so far, hasn’t it?”
“Just take a moment to picture this: you wake up and realize you slept in. I’m in the car waiting, and the only thing you can do is run outside in your yellow polka-dot pajamas to tell me you aren’t ready yet. Wouldn’t a simple text be a much better solution?”
“First of all, in what world would I wear yellow polka-dot pajamas? And second, my mom wouldn’t let me sleep in.”
“What if you got sick?”
“I never get sick,” I say.
He sits across from me. “What if I get sick? Or what if I sleep in?”
I pause, twisting my mouth in thought. Then, I smirk. “Your window is right across from mine. You could always yell.”
“So, let me get this straight, you hate it when I play drums, but you’re giving me permission to yell at you from across the yard any time I need to.”
I hold my finger up to stop him. “That’s not what I said.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what you said, so any time something pops into my head and I think ‘Oh, I should tell Bec,’ I’m going to swing my window open and—”
“Fine. I’ll give you my number, but if you spam me, I’ll block you faster than the speed of light.” I take his phone and enter my number into his contacts. “I sent myself a text so I have your number if I ever need it. Happy?”
He nods, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Where are we going to sit?”
“We?”
“Why not? We’re dating after all.”
I choke. “Excuse me?”
He smiles with mischievous eyes. “You agreed to go on five dates with me, so . . .”
I shake my head. “Say that again, and you’ll get an early ticket to your grave. Got it?”
I sit down at a table not too far from Sadie. I notice her watching as Caleb sits across from me. I can sense her questions. I know she’s dying to find out why I’m eating with Caleb.
Growing up, she always shared with me who she had crushes on, and she always tried to pry mine out of me.
The problem was, I didn’t have one, other than the occasional celebrity.
She would make us play the game where she would go through everyone I knew and make me choose between people in the most ridiculous hypothetical scenarios.
One time she said, “If the world ended and it was only you, Joseph, and Micah, who would you choose? If you don’t choose anyone, the entire human race goes extinct.” She shook me by the shoulders. “Extinct. Humanity’s future rests solely on your shoulders. Who would you choose?”
I shrugged.
She sighed, shaking her head. “Humanity is gone.” She snapped her fingers. “Poof. Just like that, and it’s all your fault. Good job.”
I’d be lying if I said that conversation didn’t make me laugh. Even now, the smallest chuckle slips out of me. She’d faint if she knew that I’m not just sitting across from a boy, but I agreed to go on not one, not two, but five dates with him.
“What’s so funny?” Caleb asks.
I let my face reset to its natural unamused state. “It doesn’t matter.”
He tilts his head, peering at me with his deep brown eyes. “Sure it does. I want to know what makes you laugh.”
I take out my PB&J sandwich and a bag of chips. I open the sandwich to put some of the chips on it and fold it back up. “Does cringe come naturally to you, or do you rehearse it?”
He sucks in a breath. “You caught me. Every morning, I practice in the mirror for a minimum of twenty minutes. Otherwise, everything that comes out of my mouth is perfect, and I can’t have that.” He stares at me blankly, waiting for a reaction.
I lean closer with a stone-cold face. “You thought that was going to make me laugh, didn’t you?”
He leans in too and lets a moment pass before saying, “No.” Then, he takes a bite of his hamburger to mask his smile.