by J. Bengtsson
With that little doozy of a parenting truth ringing in my ear, I stepped out into the arms of the worst influences on the planet. Valentine was escorting me down the hallway before my right foot had even left the office. He clapped me on the back, his bloodshot eyes rolling in their sockets as he spoke. “I’ve got the back door to the gym propped open. Let’s roll, boys. Party time!”
I ground to a halt. “Wait. I thought we were going to the zoo.”
“We are,” Fire Crotch confirmed. “But it’s by the beach, brah. It’s a total party zoo.”
“Less chit chat and more walking,” Valentine prodded. “We only have a few minutes to disappear before the bell rings.”
This didn’t seem the right time to tell him about my life-changing revelation or that I was going to have to part ways with his dopey ass if he continued to try leading me astray. Besides, I needed to tread lightly with Valentine, seeing that he was about to become Pearl Beach High’s newest dealer. But that conversation was going to have to wait because I had neither the time nor the colorful crayons to explain everything to him.
“Dude, not today. King busted me. I’m in some trouble. I need to lie low for a while.”
“Lie low? What the fuck? We’re always in trouble. Why is today special?” He gripped my arm much like Principal King had and pulled me along.
Again, I came to a standstill. “Look, I promised my dad I’d stay in school, and” – I lowered my voice, feeling suddenly embarrassed by my pending future – “graduate in June.”
By the perplexed expressions on my friends’ faces, you would have thought I’d just explained to them that some restaurants don’t serve all-day breakfast.
Valentine blinked once. Then twice. Maybe even three times before responding. “Wait, like, this coming June?”
“Yeah, man, we’re seniors, remember?”
“I know,” he said, his brows slanting in a downward trajectory. “I just… I thought we all agreed we were going to be Super Seniors next year. The five-year plan, bitches.”
“I think the term Super Seniors only applies to the mentally challenged,” I said.
Proving my point, Screensaver jerked his head up as if he’d just been awakened from a deep sleep. “Oh, man,” he whined. “Five more years?”
“Yes.” I nodded at my little friend who had the IQ of a deck chair. “You’ll be twenty-two when you graduate.”
“Oh.” He gripped his chest, exhaling a sigh of heavy relief. “That’s not so bad then.”
“Not for you, bud.” I patted his shoulder. “Not for you.”
“So, what exactly are you saying, Keith?” Valentine asked.
“I’m saying I’m not leaving school with you today… or any day. I’ve got to graduate, dude.”
“And smokeouts?” he asked cautiously, as if fearing my response.
I shook my head. “Done.”
“What the fuck? What about the business?”
Brett Valentine had been my right-hand man for a while now, so he was my natural successor. I nodded toward him, and his eyes widened. Maybe he hadn’t believed me before, but now he understood this was no passing phase. For me to give up the kind of money I was making, there had to be a compelling reason.
“Shit, you’re serious. You’re just walking away from everything? For what? A piece of paper that says you aren’t as dumb as you look?”
“I’m walking away for my dad.”
He and I stared each other down until Valentine shrugged and looked away.
Screensaver came back to life. “What’s going to happen to the Three Musketeers?”
Fire Crotch scratched his temple. “There are four of us.”
“Yeah, but everyone knows you never count yourself.”
My eyes widened. Jesus Christ. Please tell me I wasn’t as slow-witted as them when I was high. I mean, everyone was entitled to be stupid, but these dudes were abusing the privilege.
“Listen, guys, I’ve got five minutes to get to chemistry. I’ll see you later. Oh, and if you go to the zoo,” I said, addressing Screensaver, “no petting the kitties.”
As I walked away, I could hear him trying desperately to save his earlier argument. “One. Two. Three. See? The Three Musketeers.”
Not only did I meet Principal King’s deadline, I beat it by two minutes. Maybe I should have been late, though, seeing that Mrs. Lee blocked me at the entrance, all ninety pounds of her.
“Not so fast, Mr. McKallister. I need a note from the office first.”
“King is on his way.” And just as the words left my mouth, the principal rounded the corner, and I stood by awkwardly as the two exchanged a hushed conversation about me. She requested my reassignment but was emphatically denied. As the big man took his leave, I attempted to make myself as inconspicuous as possible by slinking back to my lab table.
“Hold up there, Keith,” she called to me. I turned around and she walked up, leaning in and speaking for my ears only. “Just so we’re clear. You’re forbidden from disturbing my class unless you’re bleeding, vomiting, or on fire.”
A laugh burst from my gut. Well, hell… Mrs. Lee had a sense of humor. I could work with that.
“Is there any wiggle room when it comes to fire?”
This time she laughed. “No, Keith, there is not.”
“Fine. I’ll do my best not to burst into flames.”
“Thank you.” A smile fluttered to her lips.
I met her smile and raised her one. “Oh, and Mrs. Lee?”
“Yes?”
“Mark my words, I’m gonna make you proud.”
“Keith, nothing would make me happier.”
My lab partner was already there when I arrived at the table, and she seemed about as happy to see me as Mrs. Lee had been – although I suspect for an entirely different reason. The poor girl was a blusher. I’d found that out at the lunch area on the first day of school when I’d waved at her for no other reason than I was bored. Big mistake. First came the aforementioned blushing and then the strategically placed hand hiding her face. Then for some inexplicable reason, she’d freaked out and ran from the lunch tables in an overly dramatic fashion.
In hindsight, I should’ve been less friendly. I mean, I knew nothing about the nerdy crew or where their triggers might lie, so who was to say a wave in the Star Trek crowd didn’t mean something entirely different? Smart girls were tricky like that. From what I’d gathered through trial and error, the higher the SAT score, the less impressed a female was with my overall being. Not that I had a ton of experience with them to begin with. Typically, the honors kids refrained from interacting with me. Maybe they feared my stupidity would rub off on them, I don’t know. But what I did know was this girl, with her divided, color-coded binder and back as straight as an arrow – she was definitely part of that extra credit crowd.
“Hey there, partner.” Hair tumbled over my forehead as I tipped my head in her direction. After the day I’d had, I wasn’t feeling particularly charming, but I needed to win this girl over, and quickly. Normally I wouldn’t give two shits about someone I had zero interest in, but given the promise I’d made to my father, my priorities would need to change. People who’d been merely background players before were about to take center stage in my life. If I had any hope of passing chemistry, this little ball of tension sitting before me needed to be unraveled.
“Hey,” she answered in a voice that sounded both hesitant and hardened. There were none of those embarrassed giggles from a few days ago. It was as if the dopey conversation I’d had with her the other day hadn’t registered at all, and now I was back to square one.
Okay, first things first: establish a connection. “Sorry, I forgot your name.”
“Samantha Anderson.”
“Oh, right – Sam.”
“My name is Samantha,” she said, all business-like. “No one calls me Sam.”
I fought the urge to smile. Samantha Anderson was trying so hard to be badass, but she just didn’t have the street cred t
o pull it off. And even though I needed to tread lightly with this girl, I couldn’t help a little subtle teasing.
“Uh-huh. So, Sam, what did I miss?” I asked, taking my seat.
“Samantha,” she corrected once more. “And… you missed three days.”
That was not the response I’d been expecting from my straight-laced partner. Damn, she was a ballsy little brainiac. I was impressed. Yet still, I had to call bullshit on her timeline. I knew for a fact I’d only missed two days of chemistry. “Your tally is off.”
She shook her head, the tiniest of smiles finding its way to her lips. “I counted the nap.”
What the fuck? I couldn’t help but laugh. This girl had more spunk than I’d given her credit for. Maybe using her for my own benefit wouldn’t be as painful as I’d imagined. I might even go so far as to say I sort of liked her – not in the lusty ‘Hey baby, you wanna sharpen my pencil?’ kind of way, but the more cerebral, ‘Can I copy off your homework and then maybe eat some of your nutritionally sound homemade lunch items?’ kind of way.
And even though she wasn’t my type at all, I could certainly see her potential. She was a curvy chick, maybe a little pudgy around the middle, but her legs were long and she sported a natural, make-up free face that honestly wasn’t half bad. Really, Sam was just one of those girls who was packaged all wrong. With a few tweaks, like a decent haircut, a tan, and some fashionable clothing, she might actually have a little something. Not for me, mind you. I didn’t have the patience to put into her transformation… not when there was an ample supply of bona fide hotties that came with no assembly required.
Sam actually laughed with me after realizing she’d made a funny, and I was happy to be making some headway with her. Although she still didn’t appear to be my biggest fan, unlike fifty percent of the company I’d kept today, at least she didn’t look like she wanted me dead.
Step two to winning her over: reference a shared experience. “I have a bad feeling I told you about my platypus dream on Monday.”
“Oh, you told me all right.” She laughed, and I watched as her body began to unwind. “That story… it haunted me. I couldn’t sleep – I had to actually get up in the middle of the night and do some research. Did you know that platypuses are one of only two mammals that lay eggs?”
My eyes ran the length of this girl, intrigued that she’d cared enough about the inner ramblings of my incapacitated mind to actually investigate my claims. “I did not know this.”
For the briefest of moments, she made eye contact with me, and we exchanged a smile.
“I thought you’d been transfered back to Mr. Friend,” she said.
“Nah, Mr. Friend was prepared to take his claim to the Supreme Court.”
“You must have made quite the impression on him.”
“Uh-huh. Like the impression I made on you. Be honest: how much do you know about the lifecycle of a platypus now?”
In the most deadpan voice imaginable, she replied, “I could sweep the category in Jeopardy.”
I eyed her, laughing. Dang, she was more amusing than her very uptight exterior would suggest. And even though it wasn’t like me, I was sort of digging having an intelligent conversation. She might have disagreed about that.
“Hey, I’m sorry about missing class.” Honesty? From me? What the hell?
She nodded, accepting my apology. “Why were you gone?”
What could I tell her that didn’t make me sound like a douche? Wracking my brain, I came up with nothing. It was just best to own up to it. “I took a vacation with the boys.”
Narrowing in on me with intuitive eyes, she sounded puzzled. “A vacation? Summer ended four days ago.”
“Right, but I had summer school, so in a way, I go to school year round.”
It was a joke – one she clearly didn’t get. Or maybe she just didn’t find it funny. Either way, it didn’t sit well with her, and as hesitation hung thick in the air, Sam nibbled on her bottom lip. Obviously she had something more to add. Why was this chick making me feel insecure?
“What?” I blurted out.
“Look, Keith, I envy your carefree lifestyle, I really do. I mean sometimes I wish I were you, but I can’t afford for my GPA to take a hit. College is really important to me. If it’s okay with you, I’d prefer to work separately.”
No, it’s not okay. What the hell? Most girls would jump at the chance to give me a little one-on-one attention and this… this… nobody was making me work for it. My first instinct was to be pissed. She just assumed I was going to be a shitty partner without any evidence to the contrary. Okay, well, maybe she had a whole arsenal of evidence; but was it too much to ask for the benefit of the doubt?
Seconds away from blasting her for her bias against stoners – we had rights too – I caught sight of her rueful eyes and stopped dead in my tracks. This wasn’t a diss. For Sam, her grades weren’t a luxury, they were a necessity, and based on past performance alone, I’d given this girl no reassurance that I’d be anything but a strain on her resources. How could I blame her for wanting to put some distance between herself and my stupidity? Hell, I’d do the same if her nerdiness were to suddenly start rubbing off on me.
I should have left the chick alone and accepted her request at face value. But desperate times called for desperate measures. I needed this girl. She was the difference between a passing grade and a drawer full of F’s. I couldn’t take no for an answer.
Step three: show my hand. “What if I told you I was going to get serious about education?”
She lifted a brow. “I’d say ‘Good for you,’ but I hope you understand, getting an ‘A’ in this class is imperative for me if I want to get accepted into a good university.”
“I get it.”
Actually, I didn’t. College meant nothing to me. I wasn’t cut out for higher education, so I’d never paid much attention to all the hoopla surrounding admissions. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to subject themselves to more schooling. To each his own, I supposed; but in some ways, Sam and I wanted the same thing.
She exhaled. “Thank you for understanding.”
Not so fast. I caught her eye and offered up something I’d always been reluctant to share: sincerity. “I need to graduate, Sam.”
She studied me with more interest now. Maybe I’d finally ceased being a caricature in her eyes. I didn’t know, nor did I care. I just needed her on my side.
“Do you have enough credits?” she asked, thawing.
“If I pass all my classes with a C or better, I can walk in June.”
“And that matters to you?”
“It matters to my dad.”
“But does it matter to you?” she replied.
I was taken aback by her question. Why did people keep asking me that? Try as I might, I couldn’t see the difference. “Why does that matter to you?”
“Because if you don’t care, then it’s just a waste of my time.”
Her ultimatum rendered me speechless. Right here. Right now. I had to decide who I was doing this for, because Sam was right – it did matter. If this was all being done for someone else, I was bound to fail.
What exactly was it that I wanted? I mean, obviously I didn’t want to end up in prison with a bar of slippery soap as my only friend; but more long term, what about that? I thought about my father. He was a hard worker, devoted to family, and liked by everyone. The man came home every day whether he wanted to or not. And I can attest… there were times he definitely did not. But like clockwork, he walked through that door and became the man we all needed in our lives. That was what I wanted.
I lifted my eyes to meet hers. “It matters to me.”
6
Samantha: My Loss
Oh, man, was I a sucker for sincerity or what? Maybe it was naïve of me to think someone like Keith McKallister could be honest about a request for help, but I believed him if for no other reason than I desperately needed to believe in something. In no way was my decis
ion influenced by the fact that he was a dreamy guy who smelled of seaweed. No, I’d like to think I was principled enough that I would have helped him even if he’d had a face full of acne and reeked of week-old nerd.
But when the hot guy in question went all heartfelt on me, speaking of his father and recommitting himself to his studies, I was a goner. Actually, I was surprised I’d shown any gumption at all. Making him dig a little deeper for my help was inspired. Now he knew I meant business. He was using me – of course I knew that – but I’d weighed the pros and cons and decided I was intrigued enough with this guy that it was worth my time to help him. After all, I needed to find out what had changed since Monday and why my lab partner, who could barely complete a full sentence without drifting off, was suddenly clear-eyed and ready to make a change.
As he settled in beside me, I resisted the urge to sniff him. With his hair wet and tangled, it was clear he’d just stepped off the beach and into the classroom. And given that this was third period, I had to assume he’d skipped out on his first two classes.
“So, I’m assuming your dad didn’t know you were on vacation.”
“You assume correctly.”
“How’d you explain your absence to your parents?”
“I didn’t. We took day trips. Kissed my mom goodbye at breakfast and was home for dinner every night. If done right, Sam, truancy doesn’t have to be an unpleasant experience.”
“Wow.” I smiled. “How very resourceful of you.”
“Right? People just assume stoners are lazy, but I’m like, guess what assholes, the blunt doesn’t pass itself.”
His comment had me giggling up a storm. I’d never met someone so easy to talk to, and the idea of tutoring him was becoming more intriguing with each passing minute. If Keith could give me just a little of this giddy feeling every day, I’d come out of this partnership a winner.
Surprising even myself, I kept our conversation going. “How were the waves?”
A calm instantly settled over him. “Gnarly. Thanks for asking. Do you surf?”
