* * *
“Hey, Carrie. Hey, Paige,” Matt called out from across the lawn at our high school. He jogged to us, and my ears began to ring. I stuck my fingers in them, not understanding why they rang whenever he came around, just like with that guy in the restaurant. What the hell was going on?
When he reached us, he picked Carrie up and hugged her. My stomach twisted into a knot. I tilted my face to the cloudy sky, trying not to think about Nathan’s arms around me.
“What’s wrong, Paige?” Matt asked when we headed toward the red brick building.
“Paige broke up with Nathan,” Carrie informed him, and I caught her giving him a warning look to be nice.
“Well, we need to cheer you up then,” he said to me, looking a little too happy. I felt like kicking him to get that damned smile off his face. “Let’s go do something fun after school.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, pulling my finger out of my ear when the ringing stopped.
We maneuvered our way through a crowd of students into the building and went to our lockers. The halls were buzzing with chatter of what people were going to do on spring break. A couple of boys were wrestling across from me, slamming each other against the lockers. A crowd formed around them, some cheering, some making bets, others laughing.
Ignoring them, I opened my locker, grabbed my stuff and slammed it shut. Carrie and I had first period together, and I was looking forward to occupying my mind with school work, hoping it would distract me.
“Can you do me a favor?” Carrie asked on the way to class.
“Sure. What?” I knew she screwed something up by the sheepish look on her face.
“I need to do a book report on Jane Austen’s, Pride and Prejudice, and I know you’ve read it.”
“Yeah. Why? You want me to do your book report?”
“No, but can you write an outline for me, so I don’t have to read it?”
“Okay, but you’re missing out on a good story,” I told her.
“Thanks, Paige.” She smiled and skipped beside me.
“When do you want me to do it?”
She stopped skipping, her smile faded. She glanced at the pea-green door that led into our classroom. I knew the bell was going to ring any minute, but I stood there with my backpack slung over my shoulder, gripping the strap, waiting for her reply.
“Right now,” she said, ducking her head.
“Now!” My shrill voice leapt out. “Carrie, why didn’t you ask me earlier?” Two girls who were down the hall turned to look at me, but I ignored them and stared at Carrie in disbelief.
“I forgot. I’m sorry. I had so much fun with Matt over the weekend, I spaced it.” Her brown eyes were begging me to forgive her irresponsibility.
“Fine. I’ll write it this hour, but I want to hear what you and Matt did last Saturday.”
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” she said, hooking her arm through mine.
We entered the classroom right when the bell went off and took our usual seats in the back. Ashley sat a couple seats in front of us talking to one of her disciples. When she saw me, she raised her voice.
“–So for spring break, my mom is taking us to a health spa in California for a mother and daughter weekend. My mom loves spending time with me, and we have so much fun together.” She shot me a nasty grin, and then looked at Carrie.
Carrie held her middle finger up and moved it up and down her cheek, staring back at her. Ashley stuck her nose in the air, turned around, and flicked her blonde hair off her shoulder.
“Bitch,” Carrie whispered.
“You’re terrible.” I snickered. “But that’s why you’re my best friend.”
She winked at me.
Mrs. Hong came in and told us to be quiet and do our work. Most of the kids did what she said, but some were still chatting.
“Ms. Johnson and Ms. Brown, if you girls don’t have anything to do, I have plenty of work to give you,” Mrs. Hong told them–a tiny four-eleven Asian woman who carried herself like a general.
“We have lots of work to do,” Jordan Brown’s timid voice told her.
“Then get busy,” Mrs. Hong snapped.
They opened their books and didn’t say another word.
The hour went by quickly. Before I knew it, the bell was ringing. I handed Carrie the outline. She thanked me, and then dashed off to her next class.
When I entered my English class, I saw Tree in the back with his foot on the desk he always saved for me. He removed it when he saw me walking down the aisle toward him.
“How’s my little fairy doing?” he asked.
I shrugged and sat down, dropping my backpack on the floor, harder than I intended. Why couldn’t I get a frickin’ break in this life? I must have been an asshole in a previous life and was paying for it in this one. I glanced at Tree. He was frowning.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I unzipped my backpack and retrieved my English book. He reached over and squeezed my shoulder.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft with reassurance. “If it’s about Nathan, don’t worry.”
Just hearing Nathan’s name spoken out loud made me want to cry, but I asked him why anyway, curious to know why he would say that. I mean, it was obvious Nathan had changed his mind about us. I guess I couldn’t blame him because of what he now knew about me. But the look on Tree’s face told me he saw it differently, which created a faint flutter of hope inside my chest.
“Because he’s crazy about you. When I saw him yesterday, I could tell right away. So, whatever happened between you two, I’m sure will work out.”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled.
He sat back, his face filled with self-assurance. “Well, I do, and I could tell he’s a good guy, and I like him.”
“He has your approval then?” I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise.
He folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “Yup.”
“You know, he doesn’t like Matt.”
He pointed at me and grinned. “Now I like him even better.”
Mr. Russo called the class to attention. Every time I looked at him, I couldn’t help but think of The Count from Sesame Street, and imagined him counting numbers and laughing (ha, ha, ha). I wasn’t the only one though. Other kids thought the same thing and actually called him The Count behind his back.
We had a whole hour devoted to Hemingway and his works. At the end of class, Mr. Russo told us we had to write an essay on one of Hemingway’s books. It would be part of our final grade for the year. He warned us if he could tell we hadn’t read it, points would be docked off our grade. The whole class groaned in unison.
The bell rang, and we gathered our stuff.
“Have you read any of his books?” Tree asked me on the way to my locker.
I sighed. “Not you too?”
He stared at me like I spoke a language he didn’t understand.
“I did an outline for Carrie on a book she was supposed have read,” I said, catching the spark in his eyes at the mention of Carrie’s name before he looked away.
“How is Carrie?” he asked when we reached my locker.
“She’s good.”
He raised a questionable brow and waited for me to elaborate.
Hiding things from Tree wasn’t an easy task. In fact, the times I’d received premonitions when we were together, I had to come up with a lame ass excuse when he’d question the distant look on my face. And believe me, it was a tricky thing.
I snatched my biology book and banged my locker shut. “She’s dating Matt now,” I reluctantly said. “But it’s not serious,” I quickly added when his face crumbled.
“I don’t know what she sees in that monkey spank,” he said.
We headed to my next class, wading through the chattering students choking the halls and stairs. Tree remained by my side, deep in thought. When we reached my Biology class, I pulled him aside.
“She’s not in love with h
im,” I told him.
He licked his lips, and a glimmer of hope entered his eyes. “Really?”
I nodded. “She’s only with him to have fun. So don’t give up on her.”
He smiled. “I’ll see ya later, Paige.”