Spiraling

by H. Karhoff

  “Why didn’t you?” he asked, playing with a strand of my hair.

  “I did once,” I answered. “Took a pair of scissors and chopped it all off. I thought Mom was going to have a heart attack. The state finals were that weekend and there wasn’t a lot the beautician could do with it. I had to wear this huge wig. It was so awful.”

  “State finals? For what?”

  “I was in pageants up until I was eight. I won a lot of trophies and stuff.”

  “So, you were a tomboy pageant princess?” He laughed.

  “Yes. I was. You got a problem with that?”

  “Not at all.” He shook his head and smiled. “I’m just picturing you in one of those pageant dresses with all the sequins…running around out in the woods…getting sticks caught in your wig.” He could barely get out the last part through his growing laughter.

  “Oh, like you’ve never done anything embarrassing in your life.”

  “Nope. Never.”

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and pushed on his chest.

  He caught my hand and held it in his. Then he stared at me for a moment and his laughter faded. “I love you,” he said softly before he kissed me.

  Nineteen

  “Victoria!” Mom yelled from downstairs.

  I looked up from my algebra homework, wondering what I’d done. I knew she wasn’t calling me down to tell me how great of a daughter I was. She only called me “Victoria” when I was in trouble. I put my pencil down on my notebook and got up from my desk.

  “Victoria Ann Douglas, get down here now!”

  “I’m coming, Mom,” I called as I walked into the hall.

  When I reached the bottom of the stairs Mom was waiting with one hand on her hip and a sheet of paper in the other. It had been tri-folded in an envelope and she waved it at me as she yelled. “Do you know what this is?”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “It’s a progress report.”

  “Oh.” I looked at the floor.

  “This is not acceptable. A D in algebra? Really, Tori? And C’s in biology, civics, and Spanish?” She paused and I opened my mouth to explain, but she started again before I could get anything out. “Why aren’t you doing better in school, Tori? I thought you were smarter than this. Are we letting you go out too much? Is that it?”

  “No.”

  “It’s that boy, isn’t it?” She shook the paper at me. “You spend too much time with that boy and it’s affecting your schoolwork.”

  “No, it’s not. If anything, I don’t spend enough time with him. Before James decided he couldn’t come over anymore, he was helping me with my homework.”

  “Do you really expect me to believe that? I highly doubt that boy is doing well enough in school to be able to help anyone with homework.”

  “People don’t have to wear nice clothes and live in mansions to be smart,” I said. “Devon is probably the smartest person I know.”

  “Stop kidding yourself.” She scoffed. “That boy is not going to amount to much. He’ll be lucky if he graduates high school.”

  “You are so wrong.”

  “No, I’m not. I’ve been teaching for a while and I’ve seen a lot of kids like him. They think that just because they’ve had a rough life they have an excuse to act out or break the rules. You can’t teach them anything because they’re convinced they already know it all.”

  “Devon isn’t like that. He works his butt off to help support his sister and her baby. Plus, he goes to school. I don’t know why you think that makes him a bad person.”

  “I don’t think he’s a bad person, Tori,” she said.

  “Yes, you do. You don’t have anything good to say about him, which is funny because you didn’t have a problem with him when he was wearing that stupid tie from the grocery store. Now, all the sudden, he’s this horrible person and it’s all his fault that I suck at school.”

  “I never said he was a horrible person or that your grades were his fault. This is on you.” She held up the paper. “I just don’t think he’s the right kind of boy for you.”

  “I think he’s the perfect boy for me.”

  “Well, until you get these grades up, there aren’t going to be any boys for you. You need to concentrate more on your studies and less on Devon.”

  “That’s not fair.” I protested. “Friday is Valentine’s Day. You can’t make me break up with my boyfriend the day before Valentine’s Day.”

  “I don’t really care what day Friday is. I’ve made my decision. Arguing about it isn’t going to change my mind.”

  “God, you’re so… Ugh!” I stomped back up the stairs to my room and slammed the door. I was so angry that I didn’t know what to do. Throwing myself on my bed, I buried my face in my pillow and screamed.

  The next morning, I dawdled in the side hall, waiting for Devon to show up. When he finally did, it was almost eight and Carter was with him. I looked at the two boys, annoyed that Devon wasn’t alone. I wanted to talk to him without anyone else around.

  “Hey,” he said, brushing my hair aside and kissing my forehead.

  “Hi.” I did my best to smile.

  “How are you today?”

  “Pretty crappy. My mom and I got in this huge fight last night over my progress report.”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled. “Lia chewed my ass about mine this morning. Did you get the whole ‘you’re smarter than this’ lecture?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I got the ‘you’re not seeing that boy until you get your grades up’ lecture.”

  “Oh.” He stopped smiling.

  “Yeah, she thinks it’s your fault that my grades suck.”

  “Is it?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You know how bad I am at math and pretty much everything else.”

  “I wouldn’t say everything else.” He smirked.

  “Stop.” I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s not funny.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “You can take my algebra test for me, because as it stands right now, I’m not going to pass it. The way Mrs. White explains stuff doesn’t make any sense and she goes through it so fast and—”

  “Hey.” Devon put his hand on my cheek. “Calm down. It’s going to be okay. Don’t get so worked up.”

  I widened my eyes, irritated that he wasn’t as upset as I was. “Don’t get so worked up?” I echoed his last statement angrily. “Seriously? Do you even care that we’re not going to be able to see each other?”

  “I care.”

  “You’re not acting like it. You know, you could at least try to get along with my parents.”

  “Your parents not liking me has nothing to do with me. It’s their problem. I could give two shits less what they think.”

  I arched my right eyebrow. “Really?”

  “I’m sorry, Baby Doll, but impressing an egocentric bitch and an abusive asshole isn’t really my top priority.”

  My eyes narrowed and I clenched my jaw. “Did you just call my mom a bitch?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s my cue to leave,” Carter said.

  Devon looked at him.

  “Sorry, Dev.” Carter took a step back. “As much as I’d love to stand around and watch you get your ass handed to you, I don’t want any part of this.”

  “Thanks a lot, Car,” Devon grumbled.

  “Hey, man, you dug this hole.” Carter chuckled.

  “Shut up, Carter.” I glared at him.

  Carter put his hands up in surrender and backed away, waiting until he was out of slapping distance before he laughed again. His amusement added to my agitation. I didn’t think there was anything funny about the situation.

  “I’m sorry,” Devon said. “I shouldn’t have called your mom a bitch.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” I retorted. “Even if she is one, she’s still my mom.”

  He took a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry.” He grabbed my hand and put it between both of his. “I
won’t do it again. Now, tell me what I can do. Do you want me to help you study?”

  “When? When are you going to help me study? We can’t see each other outside of school and you’re barely ever here. It’s hopeless.”

  “It’s not hopeless. We’ll figure something out.”

  “I’m glad you’re so optimistic. I hate this.”

  “It’ll be okay, Baby Doll.” He wrapped his arms around me. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Leaning my head against his chest, I drew in a slow breath. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He smoothed down my hair and kissed the top of my head. When the bell rang, I didn’t move. I stood in the hall, holding onto him as if it was the last time we’d be in each other’s arms. It didn’t matter if I got in trouble. There wasn’t much else my mom could take away from me.

  After lunch, Carter walked up to me while I got my biology book out of Devon’s locker. He’d never really talked to me, so I assumed he was looking for Devon.

  “He already took off,” I said. “He had to go see his probation officer.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Carter replied. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Why?”

  “Dev asked me to see if you wanted some help with your homework.”

  “Thank you, I guess.”

  “Not a problem. Just come by my house after school.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “I don’t have a car. How am I supposed to get there?”

  “You can walk.”

  “Out to the middle of nowhere?”

  “No. I live behind the fire station on Elm.”

  “Behind the fire station?” I knit my eyebrows together, confused. “Don’t you live in a trailer way out in the country?”

  He shook his head. “No. That’s my brother’s house. I just hang out over there on the weekends.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll be home all night, so come by whenever you’re ready. It’s the brick house on the corner.” He started to walk away.

  “Wait.” I called after him and he turned around. “I can’t. I’m grounded so I can’t go anywhere. Do you think you could come to my house?”

  He looked to the side as if he were thinking before he nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Great. I’ll give you the address.”

  I didn’t think my mom would mind me having a tutor. There wasn’t a chance I’d pass my classes without one. When Carter knocked on the door, I was in the kitchen digging through the pantry for something to eat. I grabbed a package of cookies, tossed them on the table, and hurried into the front room. Chris was already at the door by the time I got there.

  “You know you can’t go out with Devon, Tori,” he said. “Mom will have a cow. Just because she isn’t here—”

  “Yeah, I know.” I said. “It’s not Devon.”

  “Who is it, then?” Chris wrinkled his forehead. Then he turned and opened the door. “Carter? What are you doing here?”

  “Hey, Chris,” Carter answered. “I’m tutoring your sister.”

  Chris looked back at me. “Does Mom know?”

  “Not yet,” I said.

  “She’s going to love this.” Chris chuckled.

  Chris went back to the couch, plopping down and grabbing the remote for the television. He flipped through the channels as Carter and I went into the kitchen. I took a seat and stuffed a cookie in my mouth. Then I dug out my books, scattering them across the table.

  “So, you do eat.” Carter chuckled as I stuffed a second cookie into my mouth.

  I looked at him. “Of course I eat.”

  “You never eat lunch.”

  “Yes, I do. On weekends I eat like a pig.”

  He shook his head as he sat down at the table. “Girls are so weird.”

  “Whatever. Boys are weird.”

  Taking the biology book out of his bag, he set it on the table and flipped it open to the chapter we were working on in class. “I told Dev I’d pick him up at six, so we should get started.”

  “Fine.” I sighed, leaning over his biology book and grabbing another cookie. “Do you want one?” I offered the package to Carter.

  “No, thanks.” He shook his head.

  “Come on. You’re going to make me feel like a total fatty.”

  “I can’t eat cookies.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously. I’m allergic to gluten.”

  “What’s gluten?” I asked.

  “It’s a protein in grains like wheat.”

  “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “Not a lot of people have,” he said.

  “Sounds like it sucks,” I replied.

  “It does. But there’s not a lot I can do about it.”

  “I can find something else.”

  “That’s okay.” He shook his head. “We should probably get to work.”

  “Do we have to?” I pouted.

  “I didn’t come over to hang out,” he answered. “If you don’t want me to help you with your homework, I’ve got plenty of other stuff I can do.”

  “Ok.” I sighed. “We can do homework.”

  “Why don’t we start with the first phase of mitosis?”

  “Yippee.” I said with mock enthusiasm.

  Carter took a deep breath and started talking about the first section of the chapter. I munched on cookies and listened, writing down everything he told me was important and pestering him with questions. He had to repeat things several times. By the time we were halfway through the chapter, he was so annoyed, he decided we should take a break from biology and work on algebra.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked. “I’m super bad at algebra.”

  “At least it won’t be my book getting covered in Oreos,” he answered, using his sleeve to wipe milk soaked cookie off of his biology book before he closed it.

  “Sorry,” I said around a mouthful of cookies. “I’ll put them away.”

  I closed the cookies and started to get up. Carter grabbed the bag and set it on the other side of his stuff. “I have to go at six, Tori. If you don’t have your homework done by then, you’re on your own.”

  “All right.” I frowned.

  Getting out my algebra book, I showed him what we were supposed to be doing for homework. He flipped my notebook to a blank page and wrote down a problem on top. Then he went through the steps to solving the equation. It made sense when he did it, but I was way off on the answer when I tried it myself. He explained where I’d gone wrong, but when I tried the problem again, I still couldn’t get it.

  “This makes absolutely no sense,” I said. “I did exactly what you did.”

  “Not exactly,” he replied, pointing to the page. “You transposed these two numbers.”

  “What?”

  “You switched around these two numbers.” He grabbed my notebook. “Let me see something.” He flipped through all the pages of algebra notes, pausing a few times and nodding. “I think I figured out what your problem is. You mix up parts of the equation when you go down to the next line.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do. Look.”

  He showed me where I’d mixed up several equations. They looked right until he pointed out where I’d gotten letters and numbers switched around.

  “Are you dyslexic?” he asked.

  “Dis-what?” I furrowed my brow.

  “Dyslexic. It’s where you see things like letters and numbers backwards.”

  I scowled at him. “I don’t see things backwards. I’m not stupid, Carter.”

  “Ok. I’m sorry. Let’s just get back to this.”

  We went through the next few problems slower. He pointed out when I mixed up numbers without making a big deal about it. I got annoyed that he was being nicer because he thought there was something wrong with me, but the extra help made a big difference. I started getting more of the problems right
the first time. We were able to finish all of the problems from that day’s homework and start the extra credit problems Mrs. White had given me before my mom got home at five-thirty.

  “What’s going on?” Mom asked when she walked into the kitchen.

  “Algebra.” I smiled.

  She looked at Carter as she set the mail down on the counter. “Who’s this?”

  “My new tutor,” I said.

  “Tutor, huh?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Yep.” I nodded.

  “Does your tutor have a name?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “This is Carter.”

  “Carter? Is that a first or last name?”

  “First,” Carter said.

  “Well, Carter, will you be joining us for dinner?” she asked.

  “No.” Carter shook his head. “I’ve got to pick up—”

  “No, he’s not going to be here.” I talked over him.

  Carter looked at me and I shook my head.

  “We’re almost done,” I said. “We’re just going to do a few more problems.”

  “Okay,” she replied. “I’ll be in my office.”

  Carter and I watched as my mom left the kitchen. After she was gone, I quietly explained that my mom despised Devon so it was best not to mention him. Carter agreed and we went back to studying. The last few extra credit problems were harder than the regular homework, so it was slow-going. Carter had to explain what to do a few times before I understood. We were still working on it at six when James got home.

  “Why don’t you get off your ass and do something useful?” I heard James grumbling at Chris as soon as he walked in the door.

  “Great.” I sighed.

  “What’s wrong?” Carter asked.

  “My stepdad’s home,” I answered. “Just ignore him.”

  I held my head down when James walked into the kitchen, watching him out of the corner of my eye. Carter explained how to get to the next step on the problem we were working on, but it was hard to pay attention with my stepfather in the room.

  James didn’t seem to notice us at the table. He set his briefcase down on the counter and picked up the mail. Then he hit the flashing button on the answering machine and listened to the messages as he sorted through the envelopes. When he was done, he walked around the counter to the refrigerator to get a can of soda. As he opened it, he looked at the empty stove.