SMACK!!!
I feel my elbow hit something soft. It feels like a person. The sound isn’t loud, but it’s powerful. Like a combination of a crack and a smush. I hear a startled cry and then a moan. I finish pulling on my jacket.
The first thing I see is Calista Getz, with blood pouring out of her nose.
I stand there in shock, like I know what just happened but refuse to believe it. I put my hand up to my face and feel the blood.
Tears spring to my eyes but for some reason they don’t come out. I think they’re tears of pain, because all of a sudden, it really, really hurts.
Damian is also standing there in shock, unable to move, but the other boy at the table jumps up. “Oh, my gosh! Are you okay?”
My hands are still covering my face. “Could you maybe hand me those napkins?”
“Of course!”
Everyone in the cafeteria has stopped talking. I can hear the silence, and the humming of the soda machine.The pain starts spreading through my face, and I lash out at Damian. “What is wrong with you? You just smacked me in the face! Are you crazy?”
He slowly sinks down into his chair. “Oh, boy,” he says. “Oh, boy.”
I hear footsteps and look up to see Laura running up to the table.
“Mr. Decker is getting ice,” she tells me. She looks at my face. “Does it hurt? It doesn’t look that bad, I swear.”
I don’t say anything, so Laura adds, “I’m serious, it’s doesn’t look bad. Want me to take you to the bathroom so you can see for yourself?”
“No!” I say immediately. “I’m scared to look in a mirror. It might shatter into a million pieces.” I glance at Damian, who looks slightly relieved that I’m able to make a little joke.
“Ha!” Laura says, sitting down next to me. “You never have to be scared to look in a mirror.”
I’m starting to calm down. “Even with a pimple, a rash, and a bloody nose?”
She nods. “Yup. Even with all that.”
It’s amazing how one friendly person can make you feel better.
“That’s a nice thing to say,” I tell her, but she’s not looking at me anymore.
“Oh, great,” she says, “here comes the Goon Squad.”
I have no idea what that means, until I see Ellie and Ella come running up.
“Are you okay?” Ellie says. “What was that about?”
Laura rolls her eyes. “Seriously? Her nose just got smashed and is bleeding, is what that was about.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Ellie sneers while Ella shoots daggers at Laura with her eyes.
“I need a favor,” I say. “Can one of you guys grab my backpack and bring it to the nurse’s office?”
“Sure, yeah,” Ellie says. She looks at Ella. “Actually, can you? I told Melanie I would walk down to the computer lab with her.”
Ella fidgets on her feet. “Yup! I just have to go over the cheers with Becky, but I’ll be down after—”
“Don’t worry, I got it,” Laura interrupts.
Ella glares at Laura again. “I’d said I’d do it!” She turns back to me. “Just give me a minute.”
“This isn’t about you,” Laura says to Ella. “You didn’t just have someone break your nose.”
“Is it broken?” Damian asks with a panicky voice. “Oh, no! Did I break it?”
“It’s okay!” I snap at him. “How many times do I have to tell you!”
He shrinks back in his chair, and immediately I feel terrible. I hate the way Ellie and Ella can rile me up. “You two just need to leave me alone for a while,” I tell them.
“Who needs ice?” Mr. Decker asks, as he walks up with an ice pack and an overly-chipper smile. “Youch, you’ve got a bit of a doozy there,” he says, placing the ice on my nose. “But you’ll be good as new in no time!” He looks around. “Who can walk her down to the nurse?”
Before anyone else can answer, Damian stands up.
“I will. It’s the least I can do.”
“Great,” says Mr. Decker. He hands me the ice pack. “Keep it on, light pressure, until you get down there.”
“Okay, Mr. Decker, thanks.” My voice sounds nasally and hoarse—as bad as my face probably looks.
I slowly get up. “Thanks for offering,” I tell Laura, “but Damian can grab my backpack.” Then to Ellie and Ella, I add, “Thanks for nothing.”
As I walk past them, Ellie mumbles to Ella, “No wonder Patrick didn’t ask her to the dance. One little boo-boo and she starts acting like a witch.”
I pretend not to hear.
My heartbeat is still racing as Calista and I walk toward the nurse’s office.
“I’m such an idiot,” I mumble. “I’m really sorry.”
“You’re not an idiot,” Calista says. “I don’t get what you were doing with that stupid jacket, though. Why were you in such a rush to put it on?”
“I like having it on,” I tell her.
“Why? Are you, like, always cold or something?”
“I didn’t want you to see me without it.” I take a deep breath and realize it’s now or never. “I have something called hyperhidrosis. It means you sweat way more than the average person. You basically never stop sweating. Most people just think I sweat a lot because I’m nervous. I can control it with medicine sometimes but when I’m really stressed out it gets bad, and I totally sweat through my shirts. Like now.”
She looks over at me, but I can’t really see her face because of the ice. “So that’s why you always wear the jacket?”
I nod.
“Oh.”
Nurse Kline is waiting at the door. “Back so soon, Calista? Gee, you must have really missed me.” She guides Calista to a chair. “I heard about what happened. Let me take a quick look.” She feels around Calista’s face, but Calista doesn’t make a sound. I’m impressed with how brave she’s being.
The nurse gets a new ice pack. “Well as far as I can tell, sweetheart, it’s not broken.”
“Yay,” Calista says, weakly. “That’s good, right?”
“Better than a stick in the eye. And bad things happen in threes, so this should be it for a while.” Nurse Kline turns to me, as if just noticing I was there. “Is this all your fault?”
“It was an accident,” Calista says, quickly.
Nurse Kline laughs. “Oh, Damian knows I’m just messing with him. We’re old friends.”
I nod. “I come in here when I need to change shirts,” I tell Calista. “One or two times a day. I can only make it through half of gym class before I have to change. Nurse Kline lets me hang out here.”
“Not for long,” says the nurse. “The hyperhidrosis medicine is really starting to do its job. Soon enough you’ll be able to join the basketball team if you want.”
“Okay.” I sit in a chair next to the scale, suddenly feeling really tired. “You’re a really good athlete, Calista,” I say. “I’ve seen you play soccer and basketball. You’re as good as the boys.”
Calista tries to smile. “Thanks, I guess.”
“What do you mean, you guess?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t you love sports?”
“I don’t know.”
She walks over to the mirror and stares at herself.
“I don’t know anything anymore,” she says.
There it all is, staring me in the face.
An ugly gash from where I popped the pimple. A rash that runs from my cheeks to my chin. A swollen nose. Two dark circles under my eyes.
“Wow, I look fantastic,” I say, staring in the mirror. Then I turn back to Nurse Kline. “I need to go home. Like, now.”
The nurse nods. “I’ve already talked to your mom,” she says. “She’s on her way. You can text her if you want, I won’t tell.” Normally there’s no texting during school, but there was nothing normal about what was happening to me.
I take out my phone. MOM! HOW SOON WILL YOU BE HERE. HURRY PLEEEEEEZ THIS HAS BEEN THE WORST DAY EVER
Ten second
s later she texts back: HI HONEY, I’M SO SORRY!! THE NURSE CALLED A FEW MIN AGO. I’M LEAVING WORK ASAP AND CAN BE THERE BY 1. BTW WE CAN STILL GO TO THE MALL IF YOU WANT
I immediately text back: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO WAY
OK, texts my mom. UP TO YOU. MIGHT BE FUN DISTRACTION THO?
I’m not really in the mood for happy faces. I CAN’T EVEN THINK ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW, I text. WE’LL TALK ABOUT IT WHEN U GET HERE.
I put my phone away and lie back on the bed. “I’m supposed to get a dress today, for the dance,” I tell the ceiling.
“Oh,” Damian answers. A few seconds later, he adds, “Who are you going with?”
“Can’t decide,” I say. “I’m fighting them off with a stick.”
“That’s great,” Damian says.
“I was kidding.”
“Oh.”
I look over at him. He’s got a new shirt on, light yellow, with that red jacket over it.
“If you want to be friends with me, you don’t have to punch me in the nose, you know. You can just ask me like a normal person. And you need to get rid of that silly jacket.”
“I like this jacket,” Damian says. “It’s my favorite jacket.”
I shake my head and close my eyes. The next thing I know, there’s a tap on my shoulder. Nurse Kline is looking down at me. I glance over at the other table, but Damian is gone.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“A half hour,” the nurse says. “The swelling’s gone down, and your hives are looking a bit better, too. So, as much as I’d like to let you sleep the day away, I think you can go back to class until your mom gets here.”
“What?” I immediately protest. “Why?”
“Because last I checked,” she says, “this was still a school, and you’re still a student.”
I love books. (Dweeb alert.)
I love losing myself in stories and escaping to different places. Sometimes you just need to get away from real life for a little while, you know?
When I was younger, my mom used to love that I loved reading. “My little genius,” she’d say. But then something changed as I got older. I would be in my room with a book and she’d come in and say something like, “Isn’t your brain tired?” Sometimes she would pretend to give me a compliment or try to say something nice, like “I bet you’re the only girl in the whole school who’s spending a Saturday night working like a busy beaver! You’re amazing!” I don’t think she knew that what she really meant was, “Why aren’t you having a slumber party with friends?”
When I met Calista, we realized we had two things in common: soccer and reading. At first, we loved doing both together. But then, slowly, Calista lost interest in the reading part. She decided it was boring and wanted to do other stuff with her new friends. Then she started asking if she could copy my homework, and I said yes. Last year we were in different English classes, so she stopped asking.
But this year, we wound up in the same class, with a teacher named Mr. Cody. Everyone says he’s nice but tough. And so far it seems like everyone’s right, since yesterday he told us that there are going to be three quizzes and two tests this quarter, plus homework three nights a week.
We’re in the middle of discussing the summer reading assignment when the door to the classroom opens. Everyone turns to look as Calista walks in, with her head down. Her face is pretty much a total mess. A couple of kids giggle, which is gross.
“Hello!” calls out Mr. Cody. He looks down at his attendance sheet. “Welcome, Ms. Getz.”
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Calista says, quietly.
“Quite all right,” says Mr. Cody. “I’ve gotten the full report. You’re feeling okay?”
“My mom is picking me up in a half hour,” Calista answers, which isn’t exactly an answer. “I just want to go home.”
“I understand completely.” Mr. Cody sits on the edge of his desk. “We’ve been discussing the summer reading assignment this morning, and I’m hoping you might want to join the conversation. Do you have any thoughts on The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time?”
The class waits while Calista fumbles with her backpack.
“Uh…”
Mr. Cody smiles. “‘Uh’ is a promising beginning,” he says, and the class laughs. “What else ya got?”
Calista tries to muster up her most adorable smile—the one that has charmed teachers for the last five years.
“I—I thought it was really good.” Her eyes suddenly find me. “Laura and I read it together, on her screen porch,” she says. “We loved it, didn’t we?”
All eyes suddenly turn to me. For a second I feel torn between defending my friend and lying. Guess which won. “Uh … yeah, we totally did love it,” I say.
“Right!” Calista says. “It was so awesome!”
The only problem is, Mr. Cody is no dummy.
“I’m so glad you liked it,” he says to Calista. “That’s great. What did you think of the present Christopher’s father gives him at the end of the book?”
Calista’s rash seems to take a sudden turn for the worse. She starts twirling the hair behind her left ear, which is a nervous habit she’s had ever since she was a little girl.
“Uh … I didn’t quite get to that part.” She sinks back in her chair.
“Did you get to any part of the book?”
“I guess not.”
“Ah, I see,” says Mr. Cody. “Well, because of your trying day, we’ll give you a pass on your little fib.” He turns his eyes to me. “Can you please tell us what the present was?”
“A puppy,” I say, in not much more than a whisper.
Mr. Cody nods. “I don’t tolerate lying in my classroom. I know you’re just trying to protect your friend, but sometimes loyalty becomes stupidity. Don’t let it happen again.”
“I’m very sorry,” I mumble.
“Okay then.” Mr. Cody moves his eyes around the class. “Is there anyone else who ‘didn’t quite get to it,’ to coin a phrase?”
Five or six hands reluctantly inch up—including Will Hanson’s, of course.
“Well, excellent,” Mr. Cody says. “Because I love company, and tomorrow you’ll all be keeping me company in our exciting after-school study hall. And you’ll keep on keeping me company until you finish the book.” He grins. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
The various moans and groans heard around the classroom give him the only answer he needs.
“Great!” he chirps. “Now, where were we?”
My ears are making the same buzzing sound they made when I first walked into the classroom and everyone stared at me. I’m used to people looking at me, of course. But this isn’t that. This is something completely different. This is people pretending not to look at me, or trying not to look at me, but looking at me anyway.
My heart is pounding, and my blood is racing, which makes the swelling in my face throb. I can feel the rash pricking my skin. I bury my head in my notebook and start writing my name a thousand different ways. Calista GETZ. CALISTA Getz! Calitsa R. Getz. Ms. Calista Getz.
I meant to read the book, I really did. I always mean to. I like to read! I used to read a lot. I don’t know what happened, I guess I just got really busy with other stuff. I’m usually able to catch up later. Teachers don’t usually care that much, as long as you get the work done, but Mr. Cody is obviously different.
I’m different, too—as of this morning.
I raise my hand, and Mr. Cody stops talking.
“Yes, Calista?”
“May I go wait in the office for my mother to pick me up? I’m really not feeling well.”
He nods. “Sure, you can get a head start on the reading. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He throws me a copy of the book, and I catch it. “We’ll have lots of quality time together,” he adds.
The class laughs, which makes me mad for a second, but then I realize what he said was actually funny.
“I can’t wait,” I say, and the class laughs again, at my joke.
<
br /> As I walk out, I realize that the laughter makes me feel something I haven’t felt all day.
Better.
Calista leaves the class with a slight smile on her face.
“Who else actually did read the book?” Mr. Cody asks.
I raise my hand, which is something that doesn’t usually happen.
“Yes, uh…” He looks at his sheet for my name. “… Damian?”
“I read it,” I say.
“And?”
“I really liked it.” I pause, before deciding to add more. “I really liked the kid, Christopher. He was different but it didn’t bother him.”
Mr. Cody paces the aisles of the classroom, tapping his pen on his chin. “What do you mean, exactly?”
“I mean, he had a job to do and he did it. He didn’t care if other people thought it was strange. He believed in himself and what he was doing and that was all that mattered.”
“You see?” Mr. Cody says loudly. “THIS is what can happen when you do the assigned reading. Coherent thoughts can form in your head, and you can actually speak in complete sentences that are interesting and perceptive. Can you imagine?”
The class laughs. This guy Mr. Cody is pretty funny. I see Calista’s friend Laura looking at me. I turn away but quickly turn back, and she’s still looking. Then she raises her hand.
“Yes, uh … Laura, the friend protector?”
She blushes as the class laughs again. “I agree with Damian. And also, Christopher had a real sense of right and wrong. He saw a crime and he wasn’t sure anyone else was going to do anything about it, and he decided that wasn’t right, so he decided to solve it. His strength and determination were kind of noble in a way, I guess. I thought that was pretty cool.”
“I agree,” says Mr. Cody. “I also thought that was pretty cool.”
Laura smiles at me. I smile back.
I can’t remember a girl ever smiling like that at me before.
I also can’t remember anything else that happens in the rest of the class.
The Real Us Page 4
