The Impossible Vastness of Us

by Samantha Young

  I smirked at him. “Apparently my charm is too great to resist.”

  Bryce snorted derisively as Gabe laughed.

  “Yo, India,” Joshua said behind him as he took the seat next to Bryce.

  I nodded a hello and looked back at Gabe. “Are you planning on staying there?”

  “Well, we could remove the desk between us.” He waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively.

  It was my turn to snort. “Unless you’re Channing Tatum I really don’t want a lap dance.”

  Charlotte giggled.

  “Pfft,” Gabe huffed. “Magic Mike ain’t got nothin’ on me.”

  “What kind of accent was that?” Joshua turned around to tease his friend.

  “Street,” Gabe said as if it was obvious.

  “What street?”

  “Shut up. Dude, you’re salting my game.”

  I burst out laughing. “Okay, get off my desk.”

  “Yes, Gabe, get off her desk,” our Microeconomics teacher, Mr. Adams, said as he strolled into the classroom.

  Gabe pouted comically and then just as swiftly he grinned, winked at me and jumped up to take the seat beside Finn.

  Now that Gabe wasn’t in my face I took a quick look around our classroom and, sure enough, most everyone was staring at me.

  I shrugged it off and faced forward, but inside I had happy little butterflies.

  They all thought I was “in.” I could have kissed Gabe.

  Relaxing, I was readying myself to put thoughts of my popularity on hold and concentrate on class when I felt this tingling on the back of my neck.

  As Mr. Adams talked on, the tingling got worse until my whole neck was hot.

  Was Finn looking at me?

  The thought made me catch my breath again.

  For some reason I really needed to know if he was looking at me.

  Trying to be as subtle as possible I pretended to knock my pencil off my table. When I reached down for it, I looked behind me and my eyes immediately collided with Finn’s. He looked away quickly and I shot back up, gazing at the whiteboard.

  That didn’t mean anything... I’d dropped my pencil, drawing his attention.

  But then...no one else was staring at me. Not even Gabe.

  Unnerved, I spent the rest of the class more aware of the tingling skin at the back of my neck than whatever it was our teacher was trying to teach us.

  * * *

  I was warming more to Charlotte. I knew that she was pretty much a follower, but I also didn’t think she was a bad person. In fact, I thought she could be pretty sweet. In Fiction Writing we were paired up for a writing exercise and she chatted animatedly to me the whole time. I discovered her maternal and paternal grandparents were from Puerto Rico and moved to New York when Charlotte’s parents were kids. Her parents grew up together in New York, and then moved to Boston for her dad’s job—he taught Latin American Studies at Boston University. However, her parents divorced three years ago and Charlotte lived with her mom, who was a successful interior designer, and spent every other weekend with her dad. I got the impression she missed her dad a lot.

  When class ended and we broke apart at the door to head in opposite directions for our next class she drew stares as she called out, “See you at lunch, India!”

  I grinned and waved back at her, my smile only deepening when a few students smiled tentatively at me as I walked by them.

  Progress!

  My smile died, however, as soon as I walked into Modern European History, and it had nothing to do with the class or Franklin and everything to do with Finn.

  I just didn’t know what kind of response to expect from him at any given time, and more frightening still, I didn’t know what kind of response to expect from myself any time I was in his vicinity.

  He was already sitting at his desk when I came in. I ripped my eyes away from him, hating that I was so aware of him, and smiled hello at Franklin.

  When I took my seat next to Finn I didn’t know whether I should say hello or not so I didn’t say anything.

  He reciprocated.

  Great.

  And just like our last class together that morning, I spent most of it hyperaware of him, and kind of desperate to get away. So that’s what I did, and it wasn’t until I was sitting in my next class that I realized I hadn’t rearranged a time for us to meet up and work on our presentation.

  However, I didn’t sweat it because, of course, I’d be seeing him at lunchtime. Although given his propensity for not using words around me, I wasn’t sure how lunch with Finn would go.

  By lunchtime, I had racked up quite a number of smiles from my fellow students. That meant I had a little spring in my step as I walked into the cafeteria, and that spring only got springier when Charlotte immediately spotted me and waved me over to the center table. I pointed at the lunch line and she nodded in understanding.

  I looked for Eloise as I walked to the line. When our eyes met she gave me a little nod of acknowledgment and I nodded back. It wasn’t Charlotte’s warm enthusiasm but it was definitely an improvement.

  “Hi, India.”

  I blinked in surprise at the two kids who passed me with their food trays piled high. “Hey.” I returned their smiles, having no clue who they were and not caring.

  The moment felt a little like my old life back in Arroyo Grande.

  I tried not to grin openly in triumph, something that was a lot harder to do when the girl in front of me in the line turned to say hi to me.

  Once I had my food I wandered over to the center table and took the seat next to Charlotte. I greeted everyone as I sat and was gratified to get hellos in return, although in different levels of warmth.

  “Is it just me, Miss Maxwell, or are the good people of Tobias Rochester being a little friendlier to you?” Gabe teased.

  “You are not at all mistaken,” I replied. “Despite the fact that you told them I’m a drug addict, they’ve been surprisingly cordial this morning.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, Joshua’s and Charlotte’s chuckles joining his amusement. More surprising: Bryce laughed and Eloise and Finn managed a smirk.

  I dug into my sandwich, and they started up several conversations among themselves, once more not really inviting me into them. In a way it was a chance to observe who they really were around one another.

  “I bought that red Dolce we saw on Saturday,” Bryce said, looking a little too pleased with herself.

  Charlotte’s mouth fell open in dismay. “You know I was thinking about buying it for the wedding.”

  Bryce gave her this pitying look. “Sweetie, it made you look fat. I did you a favor buying it.”

  “Stop trying to make her feel bad,” Eloise snapped, her hazel eyes flashing with anger.

  Eloise’s defense of her friend surprised me and I found myself watching her interaction with Bryce, curious, despite myself, about the “real” Eloise.

  “I didn’t call her fat. I said it made her look fat.”

  “It did not. And buying that dress was mean.”

  “Elle, it’s okay,” Charlotte said, resting a hand on Eloise’s arm.

  Eloise covered her hand with her own in a comforting gesture. “It’s not okay.” She whipped her head back around to Bryce. “You’re supposed to be her friend.”

  “I am her friend. Just because I don’t coddle her, doesn’t make me not her friend. The dress did not look good on her. Being honest is my way of being a friend.”

  “Your way of being a friend could use a little more diplomacy these days.”

  “Why are you getting in my face about this?” Bryce sighed and turned to Charlotte. “Sweetie, it was not my intention to be mean to you. Will you forgive me?”

  Charlotte looked like she wanted to do anything
but that, yet she nodded before staring at her plate.

  Eloise slid her arm around Charlotte’s shoulders and gave her a tight squeeze. Charlotte smiled up at her in gratitude and affection.

  Through all of this the guys continued to talk about music, either completely oblivious or smart enough to stay out of the girls’ conversation when it turned bitchy.

  As for me, I felt like I’d learned a lot in just that short confrontation.

  After lunch we all went our separate ways. That is...all of us but Finn and me who ended up walking in the same direction. We walked in silence for a few seconds, the tension between us unbearably thick.

  When the back of his hand accidentally brushed against mine we both jumped—me from the little shocks that rippled up my arm.

  “Uh.” I cleared my throat as we stared suspiciously at one another. “I can’t meet after school because I’m on the Chronicle now. Meetings are Monday after school.”

  He nodded slowly. “Okay.”

  That was it? He wasn’t going to say, “Hey, me, too!” It wasn’t like I wasn’t going to find out after school that we were both on the paper.

  “So we’ll need to reschedule...” I prompted.

  “Yeah, sure.” He shrugged and then waved at a classroom door. “This is me.”

  And without a goodbye he was gone and we still had no plans.

  “Great,” I murmured, my dark mood only somewhat lifted when a student I didn’t know smiled and said hello to me.

  * * *

  “India, you made it,” Franklin greeted me as I stepped into the media room after school.

  “I did.” I nodded, looking around. There was a large table in the middle of the room, and individual desks with iMacs on them all around the edges.

  There were just over a handful of students all sitting at the desks, completely focused on whatever they were doing. None of them were Finn.

  Huh.

  Franklin came to stand next to me, surveying the room right along with me. “Everyone, middle table,” he called.

  A few minutes later the kids were at the table looking up at us.

  “This is India Maxwell, our new book reviewer and Ethics Maven. India, this is most of your new team at the Chronicle.” Franklin walked around the table and stopped behind an überconservative girl with rich dark brown skin and intelligent hazel eyes. She was wearing an argyle sweater vest over a long-sleeved white shirt, and there was a short string of pearls around her neck. Not an inch of her dark braided hair was out of place, pulled tightly back into a thick ponytail. “This is your editor, Alana Allbright. She’s a senior.”

  “Hello.” She nodded politely and sharply, almost like she was eager to get the introductions over with so she could get down to work.

  “And this—” he stopped behind the redheaded guy beside her “—is Paul Worthington. He’s our copy editor. He’s in your class.”

  Paul looked bored behind his rimless glasses as Franklin moved on to the girls a few seats down.

  “This is Honor Ruffalo and Katherine Kelter, both seniors. They’re our news and entertainment reporters.”

  The two brunettes smiled politely at me. One wore her hair cut short to her chin, and wore a similarly conservative outfit as Alana. The other had lighter brown hair that was styled in perfect loose curls around her shoulders. She had the kind of pretty face that would get her noticed even if she wasn’t dressed like a supermodel.

  I realized that one of these girls was the girl Bryce had been bitching about flirting with Finn at her party. If I had to guess it was Miss Flawless.

  Franklin walked around the other side of the table to stand between two boys, drawing my thoughts back into the room. One of the boys was good-looking and dark-haired and the other a glum blond. “Jasper Oliphant—” Franklin nodded to the dark-haired boy “—senior. He’s our sports writer.” Jasper grinned at me cockily and I practically smelled the arrogance wafting off him. “Lucas Young, a junior.” Franklin gestured to Glum Boy. “Our online guy. He does all our web content.”

  I nodded at the table. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Our graphics girl isn’t here today. Nadiya Dewan, she’s a senior. She puts the paper together. We meet on Thursday after school before the paper goes to print. You’ll meet her then. The media room is open every night after school so you guys can work in here. Friday after school we meet to discuss the next issue.” He smiled apologetically at me. “I didn’t ask you to last Friday’s because I had to explain to the team about losing our former Ethics Maven and gaining you.”

  “No problem.”

  “So, guys—” Franklin clapped his hands together “—do you want to get India up to speed on this week’s issue?”

  “Honor is covering a social issue brought to our attention via Twitter.” Alana took charge immediately. “Funding for a community center in Mattapan has recently been pulled because it was felt by certain members of the charity funding committee that it was wasted money. They believe the community center will inevitably be destroyed and taken over by the unsavory elements of Mattapan. The whole point of the community center was to get young people off the streets and into activities—to give them something to focus on that would keep them out of trouble. Honor’s piece will cover whether or not the attitude of the charity is perpetuating the social problem.”

  I nodded, impressed by the choice of coverage. “Sounds really interesting.”

  Alana preened. “Thank you. I’m known for my discerning eye when it comes to spotting a good story. Now Katherine is covering the dance committee’s progress on the Fall Masquerade, our annual senior dance. We also have Winter Formal but that’s for both juniors and seniors in December.”

  “Right.” I eyed Katherine. She was the stunning brunette. I wondered for a second if Finn was flirting back with her or if he was a loyal kind of guy. For some reason, I couldn’t picture Finn flirting with another girl in front of Eloise. I thought maybe he was too classy for that. Maybe. I didn’t know.

  Stop thinking about Finn!

  “I’m—” Jasper jumped in before Alana could continue “—covering our rowing crew. They have their second race this semester. They only do three this year, the rest take place next spring. This race is against Plymouth, our biggest competition, so it should be cool to see us kick their ass.” He winked at me, causing Alana to groan loudly.

  She shot him a dirty look and then turned to me. “India, you’ll be reviewing last week’s number one on the New York Times list. I do hope you’re a fast reader.”

  “Yup,” I assured her, wondering what book she was referring to. I didn’t exactly pay attention to the New York Times list. I didn’t know anyone who did. Correction: before meeting the people at Tobias Rochester—the place where status and rank was all anyone seemed to talk about—I didn’t know anyone who did. “So, I won’t be reviewing just literary stuff, then?”

  “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I feel it’s important we comment on popular fiction in whatever guise it may come. Over the year I’m hoping the book review section will successfully highlight whether or not popular fiction is killing the general population’s brain cells or feeding our intellectual souls.”

  Wow. My editor was in no way intense. “Okeydoke, then.”

  I shot a look at Franklin and saw he was trying to hide a smile. He literally wiped it away by scrubbing his hand over his mouth. “Okay, then.” He strode toward me. “Now that you’ve met the team, I have one more member to introduce you to. You guys get back to work while I introduce India to our talented photographer.” He gestured for me to follow him out the door. “He works in a traditional darkroom setup down the hall. The school insists our amateur photographers learn to master the art of film development before moving on to digital, and the Chronicle’s photographer seems to prefer film.”

  I go
t the impression Franklin was looking forward to surprising me with Finn so I didn’t have the heart to tell him I already knew who the photographer was.

  As soon as Franklin and I were out of earshot I grinned at him. “You didn’t tell me about my editor.”

  He chuckled. “If I had, would you have turned down the job?”

  “No, of course not. She’s a little intense, but I actually like where she’s going with the paper.”

  “Good. I’m glad you can see past her...intensity, as you say.” He led me into an empty art room and right to the back of the room where he stopped at a closed door.

  He knocked three times.

  “Come in,” I heard Finn call.

  I sucked in a breath at the sudden flutter of butterflies in my stomach.

  Dammit.

  “I think you already know Finn.” Franklin grinned at me as he ushered me inside the darkroom.

  My eyes adjusted to the red-hued room, and I saw Finn standing by a small sink. He was staring at us over his shoulder.

  “Finn, India is our new Ethics Maven and book reviewer. Finn is our photographer.”

  “I see that,” I murmured, wrenching my attention from Finn to the photographs clipped with the little pegs on strings of thin rope that hung from one length of the small room to the other.

  “I better go check on the team,” Franklin said. “You check out Finn’s photos, India, and then come find us when you’re finished here.”

  I opened my mouth to protest at his leaving me but he was gone in seconds. The door shutting sounded extraloud in a room that was now thick with silence.

  Feeling the heat of Finn’s eyes on me I wondered if I should just leave or try to be mature and talk to him. I decided on staying, mostly because I was more than a little curious about his photographs.

  I shot him a look out of the corner of my eye. He’d turned around and was now leaning against the sink, one ankle crossed over the other, his arms crossed over his chest, and he was watching me as if he were almost daring me to leave.

  I couldn’t get a handle on this boy. One minute he was arrogant and intimidating, the next avoiding all eye contact, and then back to Mr. Intimidating.