Kit Kat & Katie Did

by Lauren T. Hart

  We were able to whittle it down to Tuesdays from 4 to 5. For me that just meant my study group went an hour longer now. According to Zack it was going to tank his social life, and Erin had no feelings about it one way or the other, except that she kind of liked how that much studying irritated Zack.

  3rd period AP Calculus, with Mr. Cavenaugh. Nah, I’m just kidding, it was Ryan. At this point it would just be weird if Coach Cavenaugh showed up to teach his own class.

  To his credit, Ryan hadn’t become a total douche after revealing himself to be a total asshole. He avoided looking in my direction and didn’t smile at me if our gazes crossed but that was about the only difference.

  Dominic on the other hand was doubling down on his non-reciprocative friendliness. As long as I remained neutral and distant, he was friendly, jovial, and borderline sweet. Anything friendly in return and he’d clam up quicker than you could say, “Thank’s Dominic.” And really, that was about all it took to make him fidgety.

  I hated that I made him fidgety. Partly because I wasn’t sure why I had that affect on him, but mostly it was because of who else made him fidgety.

  Annabelle Granger, harpy.

  4th period, AP English with Mrs. Wall.

  We had a substitute. Mrs. Larson. She was young and spoke softly and had a habit of turning her back on the class for long periods of time while she wrote things on the board. Annabelle decided to take advantage of this time by writing me nasty notes, wadding them up into balls and tossing them in my general direction. Naturally, I ignored her. But I did make a point of looking at the security camera in the corner of the room every time one of them hit me, or whizzed through my field of vision.

  Eventually Dominic intervened by telling her to knock it off, loud enough that Mrs. Larson turned around, just in time to see Annabelle hurl another note in my direction. This one landed on my desk bounced and then fell to the floor.

  “Pick that up,” Mrs. Larson demanded, pointing at me with the book she was using to copy things to the board.

  “I’d prefer not to get involved, if it’s all the same to you.”

  She pursed her lips, grabbed a marker from the desk, scowled in Annabelle’s direction and asked. “What’s your name?”

  “My name?” Annabelle grinned like the demon that she is. “Katie Franks.”

  Mrs. Larson turned to write Katie Franks on the board, despite the objections by myself and several of my classmates.

  Dominic stood up, fidgeting with his pencil. “Mrs. Larson?”

  Mrs. Larson gasped when she turned back around after writing my name on the board. “Sit back down!” She demanded. Dominic sat back down.

  “I’m in charge of this class, Mister.” She practically shouted. “Is that understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Dominic said, his tone calm, his expression confused. “I was just trying to tell you—”

  “You’re not the one in charge here, Mister. Got that?” She was totally shouting now. “Your intimidation tactics won’t work on me.”

  “What the actual fuck?” Katlynn mumbled, her hand thrusting up into the air.

  At the same time Annabelle hissed, “Dominic, stop.”

  “Dominic?” Mrs. Larson seized on the name and turned to write it on the board, spelling it wrong, with a Q U E at the end instead of a C.

  This was about the time I realized she was using a Sharpie, and not an Expo.

  Mrs Larson turned her glare on Katlynn when she saw her raised hand. “There’s no questions right now,” Mrs. Larson huffed. When Katlynn didn’t put her hand down she said, “I’m not answering questions right now and no, you may not go to the bathroom.” Katlynn left her hand up. “Put. Your. Hand. Down.” Mrs. Larson was really beginning to lose her cool now.

  “Not until you listen to what I have to say,” Katlynn said, firm.

  “The only thing I’m interested in hearing from you is your name.”

  “It’s Katlynn Reyes.” Katlynn scowled.

  Her name went on the board too.

  “For fuck’s sake. What is wrong with you two?” I stood and started gathering Annabelle’s notes.

  “Why are you out of your seat?” Mrs. Larson screeched.

  “I’m picking up all these notes.” I un-crumpled one of Annabelle’s notes and began reciting. “Hey cunt-licker, did you know your breath smells like sweaty ballsack?” I tilted my head toward Annabelle. “Huh.” Dominic was furiously shaking his head back and forth. I ignored him. “How exactly do you know what sweaty ballsack smells like?”

  Most of the class laughed. Dominic put his head down, eyes on the floor. Annabelle burst into tears and screamed, “Stop laughing at me!”

  Mrs. Larson then did the stupidest thing she’d done up to this point, she tried to stop Annabelle from fleeing the classroom. As I stepped out of her path to the door, Mrs. Larson stepped into it and as if that weren’t enough, she grabbed Annabelle by the arms.

  Annabelle responded with a blood-curdling murder death kill scream, and in a blind raging fury, she kicked out while at the same time furiously slapping and hitting Mrs. Larson.

  Mrs. Larson yowled in pain as Annabelle’s boot met her shin, then yelped in smaller screams as Annabelle wildly smacked at her, screaming in her face the entire time.

  Mrs. Larson, for whatever reason, didn’t let go. She was like a one of those stupid finger grabber games, the more Annabelle hit at her, the tighter her grip became.

  I’m stronger than I look, and I figured I could probably restrain Annabelle, but at this point, she wasn’t actually the biggest problem. I grabbed Mrs. Larson by the arm and pulled, hard, while screaming, “Let her go!”

  Amazingly, Mrs. Larson let go. Annabelle turned to look at me, dumbfounded, makeup smeared and tracked down her face in streams of ‘never heard of waterproof, primer, powder, or setting spray,’ black. “Go!” I shouted at her.

  “I’ll have you expelled for this, Katie Franks,” Mrs. Larson yelled after Annabelle. “And I’m pressing charges.”

  “Mrs. Larson,” I growled at her. “I’m Katie Franks.”

  And that’s probably where we both should have left it. But no. Mrs. Larson yanked her arm free from my grip. “Sit down — all of you, sit down,” she yelled toward the class as she dabbed at her face, wincing each time, then looked at her hand as if expecting to see blood. “Not you,” she said a I started for my seat. “Tell me your name,” she barked.

  “It’s Katie Franks.” I said.

  “Fine.” She squinted an eye and limped over to Mrs. Walls desk. “You don’t want to tell me your name, that’s just fine. Someone else want to tell me her name?”

  “It’s Annabelle Granger,” someone a few rows back called out. I didn’t see who it was but I think it might have been David Sampson who’s also in my AP Government class, 1st period.

  “Was that so hard?” Mrs. Larson glared.

  I was beyond done at this point. I picked up my books and my bag.

  “And where exactly do you think you’re going, Annabelle?” Her tone was the exact same tenor you’d expect from someone clearly in the wrong demanding to speak with the manager.

  “I’m going to go have a few words with the Principal, to report what just happened here. No one should’ve ever let you work in a school.”

  Mrs. Larson angrily marched around the desk as if she were going to block my exit, the same way she had Annabelle. But I wasn’t in a rage induced flight, so I stopped, turned, and met her anger, with my best steely glare. She responded with a slap across my face.

  The whole classroom gasped.

  I’d never been slapped before. Not really, not in anger. Kayley had accidentally smacked me in the face two years ago turning and pointing to something, and she’d mostly hit me in the nose. This didn’t hurt like that. This stung. And made my eyes water. I blinked at Mrs. Larson, trying to make sense of what had just happened. All I could think was, Julian is going to be so mad.

  The next thing I knew, I was being hoisted of
f the ground by strong arms and hauled out of the classroom. The bell rang a second later and the halls flooded with people. “Put me down,” I ordered. “Julian,” I grumble-spoke, because I had ‘freshly slapped for the first time ever’ delirium. “Put me down.”

  “What did you just call me?” Dominic set me down next to the wall, cornering me with a protective arm and a look somewhere between horror and bewilderment.

  “I didn’t call you anything,” I lied in a huff. Mostly because I was so completely mortified that I’d called another guy Julian. “I just asked you if you’d put me down.”

  Dominic nodded, looking unsure. But somehow — grace of god, the distraction of me moving on, or maybe it was our combined superhuman super powers — he wedged himself back into his warm and fuzzy denial of short-haired, hazel eyed, Katie Franks and long-haired, hazel eyed, extra makeup, Kat Franks being two completely different people.

  “It’s like I can feel the exact shape of her hand on my face,” I grumbled.

  Someone snapped a photo next to me. It was Katlynn. “You can see it too.” She turned her phone to let me see the hand shaped red mark on my cheek.

  Julian was going to be so pissed. “It’s gonna go away, right?”

  Katlynn looked to Dominic.

  “This the first time you’ve been slapped?” Dominic asked.

  I nodded.

  “You’re gonna be fine,” he reassured. “C’mon. I’ll walk you to lunch.”

  “Are you kidding me? The only place I’m going right now is the Principal’s office. That bitch is going down.”

  “She’s a teacher, Katie, it’s her word against yours, if we’re lucky all we’ll get is detention.”

  “Wow, Dominic, just… wow. You don’t need to be so afraid that no one’s going to listen to you.”

  “It’s not fear, it’s experience,” he shot back.

  “And fear.” I moved around him and started for the Principal’s office.

  “Well, if you’re hell bent on going to the Principal’s office with this, then there’s something you should know about Mrs. Larson. She’s Principal Howard’s sister.”

  I stopped walking. “Okay.” I could feel my ‘call Julian reflex’ beginning to twitch. “That could be a problem.” I wasn’t really looking at anything, but my eyes fell on Dominic’s. His expression was practically pleading with me to just leave it alone.

  “I’ll talk to Mrs. Wall when she gets back,” he said.

  “Okay,” I smiled at him, patted him on the arm, and walked passed him.

  He followed me, all the way to the gym.

  “Why are we here?” Dominic asked.

  “Bigger fish,” I replied.

  “Coach?” I called out.

  Coach Cavenaugh was in his office. “Well, this looks like trouble,” he glared at Dominic as he leaned forward on his desk.

  “Not mine,” Dominic was quick to pitch in.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” Coach Cavenaugh huffed.

  “It’s all of ours Dominic, written in Sharpie,” I snapped.

  “Do I know you?” Coach Cavenaugh asked.

  “Well, you sure as shit should, I’m in your 3rd period Calculus class, Katie Franks.”

  “Did you just swear in front of a teacher?”

  “No. I swore in front of the Coach.”

  Coach Cavenaugh scowled. It was one of those expressions that might have been him trying not to laugh, or he also could have been really offended that I’d cursed in front of him, but I doubted it.

  “Just hear me out,” I started. “This girl Annabelle was trying to get me in trouble with the sub, Dominic defended me, and she flipped out at him, I’m talking about the sub here. Coach, she was afraid of him.”

  Cavenaugh lifted a brow and looked to Dominic.

  “Dark ally, dressed like a ninja, armed, I’d get it, but standing in a classroom, Exhibit A,” I waved my hands over Dominic. “No way. So then, Katlynn tried to defend Dominic, and she got in trouble, and then I tried to…” I paused, letting out a big ‘Uhhhhmmm’ as I thought about the best words to explain my actions.

  “Stir some shit?” Dominic offered.

  “Not the words I was going to use,” I twirled a finger at him. “But yeah, I guess that’s fair. I poked the bear. But it was Larson who decided to try and stop the bear, and got into a huge fight with her.”

  “Larson?” Coach Cavenaugh looked confused.

  “Mrs. Larson, Principal Howard’s sister,” Dominic offered. “She tried to stop Annabelle from leaving the classroom. Katie intervened, and then told her she was going to tattle on her, so Larson slapped her. Katlynn and I got her out of there and told her why it was a bad idea to go to the Principal’s office, and then I don’t know, she came here and I followed.”

  “Oh, Jeez.” Coach Cavenaugh shook his head. “You got any proof besides the mark on her face?”

  “Security cameras,” I offered. “They’re in every classroom.”

  “No there’s not,” Coach Cavenaugh countered.

  “Uh… yeah there is. What do you think those black little domes are in every classroom?”

  “Motion sensors,” Coach Cavenaugh explained.

  “For what?”

  Coach thought about it for a minute. “Son of a bitch.” He picked up his phone and made a call. “Dale? It’s Ray. I’ve got a student reporting an assault—” he paused. “ Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yep. Is there, by chance a camera in room…?”

  “Two-Twenty,” Dominic offered.

  “Uh-huh.” Coach Cavenaugh ran his hand over his face. “Uh-huh. Okay, so it’s room 220 from the last hour.” There was another pause. “Did he?” Coach Cavenaugh smiled. “Well isn’t that interesting?” another pause. “Hell, no. Make copies. Yep. Yep. I’ll be over there in ten.” Coach hung up the phone, grinning ear to ear. “Well kids, you’ve done good. How about you let me take things from here?”

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  “You should probably have the school nurse look at your cheek,” he reached in to a file drawer behind him and pulled out an instant ice pack. He cracked the activator inside, gave it a solid shake and handed it across the desk to me.

  Not gonna lie, it was a gentle breeze from heaven against my cheek. And it smelled like antiseptic and justice.

  “Coach,” Dominic said. “I don’t know where Annabelle ended up, but I know she’s pretty messed up. I mean, she went at Larson pretty good, but I’m also pretty sure she has one of those things that allows her to just leave class if she gets to upset and Mrs. Larson was totally not letting her leave.”

  “A 504?” Coach asked.

  Dominic nodded. “I think so. I’m worried about what she might do if she thinks she’s in as much trouble as… well as she probably thinks she’s in.”

  “Do you know how to get a hold of her?”

  “Maybe,” he lifted a shoulder and started fidgeting. “Facebook?” he mumbled.

  Coach nodded. “We’ll try on our end too.”

  The End.

  Yeah, not really, but once the adults took over we were out of the loop. Annabelle was out for the next week and our new English sub was also a therapist who thought we should all talk about what happened and not keep things bottled up inside. But this was AP English, right before finals, mostly what people wanted to talk about was how all this talking about stuff was going to negatively impact their grade.

  One of the more interesting things that happened was that 3rd period Calculus now had a teacher every day, with actual lessons and everything. Ryan seemed a little peeved about the demotion at first, but he got over it quick enough.

  Rumor had it that Larson was blacklisted as a sub, but I’m pretty sure substitute teacher blacklist isn’t a real thing. Still, she was gone and numerous adults assured us she would never work in a school again.

  Another popular rumor was that Coach Ray had used the classroom video to blackmail Principal Howard, because Coach Ray suddenly got tenure and there’d been a rumor
earlier in the year that this was going to be his last year at the school. Could be true, his reputation as a teacher was sketchy as hell, but as a coach, his teams sure did win a lot.

  And then there was the most outlandish rumor that the whole debacle started as a lover’s quarrel between me and Annabelle. Ew. As if. And how do these things even get started? The next time I saw Annabelle, she completely ignored me, and it was kind of amazing.

  Chapter 17

  The last day of the school for the year was a short one. Another why bother day, but it was also a bit of a school-wide party, kind of, so I went. Classes were short, and sweet and casual.

  1st period, AP Government, Mr. Sainsbury gave us a brief overview of the history of the holiday season and all the different holidays packed into the end of the year.

  2nd period, AP Biology, Mr. Teague gave us our grades for the independent finals and reminded us that there was still two weeks left in the term, and all of winter break to study and do extra-credit work if we weren’t happy with where our grade appeared to be going. Aimee gave me, Zack, and Erin Christmas cards, with personalized notes of thanks inside. Zack gave us all hugs.

  3rd period, AP Calculus with Mr. Cavenaugh, who was still coming to class, every day. He’d written “Have a wonderful holiday break, see you next year!” on the board and was handing out cupcakes.

  “You’re not eating your cupcake,” Dominic said as he sat down sideways in the seat in from of me.

  “Too much frosting for me,” I shrugged. “You want it?”

  Dominic picked up the cupcake and chomped away most of the frosting. “Is that better?” he asked with a mouth full of frosting as he offered the mostly defrosted cupcake back to me.

  “Much. I mean, I think I might have gotten a stomach ache just watching you down all that sugar, but also, thanks? I guess.”