Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Devon
“I volunteer as tribute!”
My eyes find Dana standing in the middle of her group in the back left corner of the room.
She’s trying to pretend she hasn’t been swept into the tide of my glorious pre-holiday break fun, Algebra Hunger Games, but her smile tugs at her lips as I hold three fingers up in the air—the Hunger Games salute.
My minions follow suit. My hair is in a high ponytail with a fuzzy scrunchy I borrowed from Syd, and my shirt has a picture of Jennifer Lawrence in full mockingjay costume. Go big or go home.
“Then so you shall be tribute, Dana Vilario. The sixth member of the twenty-fifth annual Algebra Hunger Games—”
“Damnnnn, Ms. G. You’re old!”
“She made the number up. The books weren’t even out then, Sam. Jesus!” Maddie throws a piece of crumpled paper at him.
“What’s that Samuel? You’d like to take Dana’s spot as tribute?” I ask.
The kids laugh as Sam shakes his head like his hair’s on fire.
“So as I was saying. Tribute Vilario of District Six, take your place in the arena.” I gesture toward the duct tape that spells out arena at the center of the room.
Dana picks up the nerf gun suction cup bow and arrow that I bought for obvious reasons and holds it upside down, then adjusts.
She narrows her eyes at the whiteboard where I drew a target filled with different point values. “Tributes, are you ready?”
Everyone in the class hoots and hollers and a few people in my hallway shut their doors to block out what is surely recognized as great-times-in-Gallagher’s-class by all but a few teachers I’ve yet to win over. Just give me one more decade.
“Ready! Aimmmmm. Fire!”
She unleashes the arrow and it hits the board with a pop right in the center of the bullseye.
“Katnisssssss Everdeen. Five points! Go, go, go.”
I press the next page button on the Acitvboard and an equation appears on the screen. The sound of furious scribbling in notebooks is so loud that I barely hear the ping from my cell on my desk.
As I move toward my phone, I watch the class.
All heads are bent toward their work, sans two.
One is Joseph Flint. He is melting in his chair like he might have just eaten a weed brownie in the bathroom.
In reality, his ADHD meds are probably out of stock again.
The shortages are wreaking havoc on these poor kids.
And of course, Jessica Stoner. She is staring into space, her hoodie pulled up over her thinning hair.
I bite my cheek and wake up my screen. A flight check-in reminder pops up and my stomach launches into a triple axel.
I felt a lot of feels before my last trip to Chicago, but this is different.
Less dread, more top of a rollercoaster with my hands in the air.
I touch the toe of my flat to the hard outer casing of my luggage beneath my desk.
“Done!” Dana yells as she stands up, her cheeks flushed from the effort. Two more tributes announce that they’re done and stand up.
“District Six. District Three. District One. In that order. Keep solving, you never know—”
The bell cuts me off and there is a unanimous groan. I make a heart with my hands and they roll their eyes at me. But I heard the groan! They don’t want to leave math.
“Tributes submit your answer to the reaping basket. We will announce this year’s winner next year! Have an amazing break and a happy New Year! Go forward. Be brave! Take a Starburst.”
Ravenous beasts hold up their hands while I toss candy in their direction. It’s like a pinata bursting at a toddler’s birthday. Except they’re thirteen.
“Bye, Ms. G! Happy Holidays! Thank you!”
I feed them sugar like a good teacher and wave them off as I head toward Jess kneeling to pick up her books from the floor.
“You ready for the break, Jess?”
She shakes her head and stands up, steadying herself on the corner of her desk. Her knuckles protrude from her hand like a range of mountains. She stares at her Air Force Ones.
“Jess,” I start. But then I stop. Wait for her to look up and meet my gaze. It takes a full ten count of silence, but I hold out. “How can I help?”
She shakes her head and the hoodie slides back a little.
“You can’t.” She pulls her shoulders back. “I’m fine,” she says.
Fine. I know that lie.
“I can. And I will. There are ways around your—”
“I’m ok, Ms. G. Really. My mom’s right. This is just a phase.”
Oh fuck this. A phase?
“Jessica, what if we had a code phrase? Something you could use when you just feel like you can’t—when you need it.”
A tear escapes from the corner of her bloodshot eye.
“Ok,” she says softly.
“Ok.”
I nod my head, pluck a Post-it from a basket nearby and scribble on the paper with a pen from her desk.
“That’s my email, Jess. And that’s the phrase. You type that to me—any time. And help is on its way.”
She takes the Post-it and by-god she smiles a little when she reads the words.
“What the heck is a Shadow Daddy?” she asks.
“It’s a bit inappropriate actually, maybe we should change it—to something less—”
“No. Shadow Daddy is perfect.” She folds the pink paper and tucks it into her pencil case.
“See you next year?” I ask.
“See you next year,” she says.
I watch her shuffle out of the room before making my way to the phone by the door.
I need to call Nurse Amy—and Elizabeth in guidance.
Hopefully they haven’t fled with the wave of children running out of school.
As I lift the receiver to my ear, cursing Jessica Stoner’s mother, there’s movement to my right and I turn to find my own definition of male paradise leaning against my door jamb, equipped with a visitor name tag on his left pec that reads Dr. Dick.
“For the love of Pete! You did not walk through the halls with that on your name tag.” I laugh.
He looks down, his eyes wide.
“Who wrote that?” he asks looking behind him.
“Five minutes earlier and you would have made every one of my students’ TikTok feeds.”
He snaps away his disappointment and steps forward.
“You ok?”
I fix my face.
“Yeah. It’s just that girl I told you about—”
“Jessica?” And there’s the crease between his brows.
I nod and smooth his lines with my thumb. This man. I want to package him up and send him to every woman on Earth. The ultimate gift that keeps on giving. Heart of gold, brain of a surgeon, body of a Hemsworth.
“I just have to call guidance and the nurse, then I’m good to go.”
He nods and walks around my room, taking it all in. I watch him pick up the nerf bow and shake his head with a smile as he sees the arrow still stuck to the target on the white board. I leave a message for Amy and update Lizzie, then approach him while he studies my mental health posters.
“I wonder how many kids you’ve saved—just by letting them know you see them,” he says to the poster Syd gave me.
He turns and looks me over, his eyes filled with something that makes every cell in my body tense up and freeze. That look—it makes me feel like Wonder Woman—unstoppable and invincible. I shudder and he puts his hands on my shoulders, his thumbs circling the base of my neck.
“You ready for this?”
No. No. A thousand times no.
“Yup,” I whisper.
He laughs at me and pats my head like I’m Brutus, then lowers his mouth over mine, stops just before our lips touch.
“Get your bag, liar,” he says into my mouth.
His lips find mine and his arms wrap around me and just like that, the shell of my lie cracks and crumbles while a new truth pecks its way out into the light. Am I ready for this? I’m ready for anything if he’s here beside me.