A Month of Mondays

by Joëlle Anthony

  After all…I was.

  Chapter 22

  When Dad picked me up, he smelled funny. It took me a minute to realize it was the paint splotched all over his clothes—a light blue, like the morning sky.

  “What happened to you?” I asked.

  He smiled. “You’ll see.”

  As soon as we opened the door of the apartment the stink was overwhelming. It was that fresh but chemical smell that you only get from paint. I walked into a different living room than I’d left two days ago.

  It wasn’t one of those truly stunning makeovers you see on TV, but it was definitely different. The white walls, which actually had more of a gray tinge to them, were now the pale blue that was all over Dad’s clothes. The thrift store lamp had been replaced with one of those tall, skinny black floor lamps, and there was a pale yellow area rug in front of the couch, covering a section of the ugly brown wall-to-wall carpet. “Wow.”

  “What do you really think?” he asked.

  “It’s great. You did all this?”

  “Yep.”

  “How come?”

  He shrugged. “It needed it, don’t you think?”

  “Well, yeah.” But the fact he’d done it was still weird. We’d lived here for as long as I could remember, and every time Tracie and I had begged him to let us paint our room he’d told us it was a waste of money, because it was a rental, and we’d have to paint it white again if we moved out.

  I flopped onto the couch and was surprised to see new yellow pillows and a soft throw. “Hey,” I said. “Where’s your stadium blanket?”

  “In my room. It’s getting kinda ragged.”

  “True.” I had a hard time imagining Dad curled up watching hockey under a fuzzy yellow blanket, but he looked happy, so I let it go.

  “You like it?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Sure. It’s nice.” He looked like he wanted more so I added, “The lamp’s cool.”

  He nodded.

  I couldn’t put my finger on it, but he was acting weird and it made my stomach a little queasy. What was up? “Well, I think I better get to bed,” I said. The anxious way he was looking at me was freaking me out.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty late.”

  I stood up, but didn’t leave. “Was this why I had to stay over at AJ’s? So it’d be a surprise?”

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  I wondered why he didn’t send Tracie to AJ’s too, so it would be a surprise for her. Probably because it’s harder for her to get to her school from our aunt and uncle’s house. But then it hit me: it had to be my sister’s idea in the first place. Maybe she wanted to be nice for once, since she’d been so mean lately. “Did Tracie help you?”

  His smile disappeared. “Uh, no. It was just me.”

  “Well, it looks good, Dad. I love it.”

  His smile came back and I gave him a hug. He held me close, stroking my hair like he did when I was little. “I’m glad you’re home. I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” When he didn’t let go of me, I said, “I’m going to bed now.”

  He dropped his arms. “Okay. Night.”

  I’d only taken about two steps into our room, when Tracie sat up on her bed and said, “Oh, the princess returns.”

  “What’s your problem?” I asked.

  She glared at me. “You.”

  I tossed my school bag under my desk and started undressing. “What’d I do now?”

  “Don’t play Little Miss Innocent, Suze. You’ve got everyone bending over backward to make sure you’re happy, and I’m sick of it.”

  I shook my head. “Seriously, Trace. I have no idea what’s up your butt.”

  “AJ and Uncle Bill whip you off for two days of luxury and good food—”

  “I went fishing and did homework. Hardly—”

  “And Dad, who’s never given a crap about this place, is suddenly sprucing it up.”

  “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “As if you don’t know.”

  I pulled on the T-shirt and shorts I sleep in and jumped into bed. The sheets were like ice. I’d forgotten to brush my teeth, but I was too tired to bother. I snuggled down under my torn comforter. “Tracie?” I said. “Just tell me what you’re mad about so I can go to sleep.”

  “You really don’t know?”

  She stood over me, making me nervous. I didn’t like to be in such a vulnerable position when she was mad, so I sat up. The paint fumes were giving me a headache already. Or maybe it was my sister. Sighing, I said, “I really, really, really don’t know.”

  “Caroline called and invited you to stay over at her fancy house.”

  “What?” My heart pounded around in my chest like it wanted out. Staying over at Caroline’s wasn’t something I’d even considered. After our dinner fiasco, I wasn’t sure I had the nerve to spend that much time with her. “When?”

  “I don’t know,” she said with a sneer. “But you can’t tell me Dad trying to fix up this place is a coincidence. The last thing he wants is for you to go over there and see how nice other people have it when our apartment is cold, damp, and ugly.”

  Based on her clothes and jewelry, Caroline probably did have a pretty nice place, but how would Tracie know that? As far as I could tell, she hadn’t even seen her in person. “How do you know Caroline has such a nice place?”

  “I remember,” Tracie said.

  “You remember what?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.” She flipped off the light.

  “But—”

  “And shut up. I’m going to sleep.”

  I lay there for a long time, wondering where Caroline lived and what her place was like. Was Dad really worried I would like it better and want to move in with her? It seemed a long shot that he’d painted the living room and bought some pillows just to win me over, but he’d never shown an interest in the place before, so…maybe Tracie was right. He’d seemed nervous when I came in too. And that hug. He’d held onto me for so long.

  Dad hadn’t said much about Caroline to me, but he’d obviously been talking to her, if she’d invited me to sleep over. And if Tracie was telling the truth, whatever she’d said had made him worried he might lose me. I got out of bed and went back to the living room where Dad was camped out in front of the TV. The fuzzy new throw was folded neatly on the arm of the couch and he was snuggled under his old gray stadium blanket, watching the sports news.

  “Oh, hey,” Suze,” he said, putting the TV on mute. “Was it too loud?”

  “No. I…I just wanted to say…” I debated mentioning Caroline and then decided not to. “I just…really love the new living room. It’s great.”

  He smiled up at me. “I’m glad.”

  “So…thanks for doing it.”

  “No problem. Want to catch the scores with me?”

  I started to say no. I really was exhausted, and it was only Wednesday. The weekend seemed forever away, even though I’d just had a two extra days off for my suspension. But in the end, I plopped down on the couch next to him, after all. It was worth it to be a little tired, and I cuddled up to Dad under his blanket. He turned the sound back on and we watched the highlights of the Canucks’ win. No matter what Caroline’s house looked like, this shabby little apartment I shared with my dad and sister would always be my home.

  Chapter 23

  On Monday afternoon I sat on the hard wooden bench outside Farbinger’s office, but this time I wasn’t in trouble. Madame Duke had asked me to meet her here after school. It could only mean one thing. They were moving me up to the next level of French. When Duke had handed back the tests I’d almost fainted. I’d gotten a hundred percent. A hundred percent! Me! Suze Tamaki! A hundred percent!

  Merci, AJ! If I was smart enough to get a hundred percent, then I could be parle-ing with the other smarties. The door to the hallway op
ened, and Baker came inside.

  “Hey, Mr. Baker,” I said. “Ça va?”

  “I’m fine, Suze. How are you?” He sounded so gloomy, not like the regular cheerful Baker.

  “Très awesome,” I answered, grinning.

  “I thought maybe you’d like me to go the meeting with you,” he said.

  Huh? “This meeting? Why?”

  “For moral support.”

  Moral support? What’s he talking about? A knot tied itself in my stomach. Somehow I didn’t think we were going to be discussing moving me up, after all.

  Farbinger’s door flew open and his pinhead attached to his scrawny little neck stuck out, twisting around like a turtle. “Come in, Miss Tamaki. Come right in.”

  I glanced nervously at Baker. Suddenly I was a criminal, who wanted her lawyer present. The only thing was, I hadn’t committed any crimes—at least, none I hadn’t already been caught for. “Baker—I mean, Mr. Baker—is coming in with me.”

  “Of course,” said Farbinger. The two men exchanged one of those adult-to-adult looks that kids aren’t supposed to notice, and the knot cinched itself tighter.

  Farbinger’s office always seemed tiny when it was just the two of us, but throw in tall, lanky Baker, and Duke, who was already sitting in there, and it was positively claustrophobic. Farbinger arranged himself in a big, luxurious leather chair behind his beat-up metal desk. They’d cut the school band this year. Maybe it was to buy his ergonomically correct lounger.

  Baker grabbed some folding chairs from a closet I’d never noticed before, and we sat on the cold metal seats and waited. I was glad to have an ally, even though I didn’t know why I needed one.

  “You did very well on last week’s French test,” Farbinger said, not looking at me. He flipped through a photocopy of my test.

  “Oui,” I said, smiling. Maybe this was going to be okay after all. “I got a hundred percent.”

  “You’ve never gotten a hundred percent before,” he said, his tone skeptical. “On anything.”

  Any optimism I had over how this might go evaporated. “I’ve never studied before,” I explained.

  The tension thickened in the room, until we were looking at each other through an almost visible haze. Baker cleaned his glasses while Farbinger studied my test. Duke twisted a rubber band around a pencil, as if she was going for a record or something.

  “You say you studied?” Farbinger asked me.

  “Yeah. While I was suspended. At AJ’s house.”

  “AJ?”

  “My Aunt Jenny.” I shook my hair into my face. Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong, and I didn’t want Farbinger to see how scared I was.

  “Well, it certainly paid off,” he said.

  “Yeah.” The blackness in my heart swallowed my voice. Baker cleared his throat. Still no one said anything. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. “What’s the problem here?”

  Farbinger looked meaningfully at Duke. “Perhaps you should tell her, Madame.”

  “Well,” she stammered, not looking at me, “it’s such a dramatic improvement. We wanted to make sure that you were…that is…we were just curious…”

  “We wanted to know how you did it.” Farbinger said. He looked at me like I was a toad. One they were going to cut up in biology. Instantly, I got his meaning, and I didn’t like it one bit.

  “You think I cheated?” I demanded. “Is that what you’re saying?” Everyone’s gaze flew to different parts of the room. Even Baker didn’t look directly at me. Duke’s face got very red, and Farbinger studied my test some more. “Oh, that’s fine!” I shouted. “You’re all a bunch of hypocrites. You teachers tell us all day long if we want to get ahead, then we need to study. Finally I do, and this is what happens? You accuse me of cheating?”

  “Now Suze, calm down,” Baker said in a low voice. “No one’s accusing you of cheating.”

  “Yes, they are,” I said. “And do you know what? This sucks. This really sucks.”

  “I’ll have none of that language in here, young lady,” Farbinger said.

  I turned on him. “Well, it does. And there’s no other word for it. For the first time in my life, someone actually believed in me.” I jumped out of my seat, waving wildly at Baker. “So I started to think that maybe he’s right. Maybe I can make something out of myself. I like French. I could probably do better in there too. And now you’re all calling me a cheater. Thanks a lot. I really appreciate your support.” I pushed the metal chair out of the way so I could get out the door.

  “Just a minute, Miss Tamaki. I didn’t excuse you.”

  I couldn’t believe it. This was not happening to me. In ten days we had to go in front of the school board and give our presentation, and now I had to deal with this? I wanted to slam the door behind me so hard the windows shattered, but Farbinger was dying to expel me, and there was no friggin’ way I was going to give him a reason to. Instead, I thumped my butt back in the chair and crossed my arms.

  “Young lady,” he said, “I should call your mother right now for that outburst. You’re insubordinate, you fight with other students, you skipped class and left campus. Based on your behavior lately, why exactly should I believe you?”

  I flipped my hair into my face and shut my mouth tight. I didn’t have to answer his stupid questions. Besides, I didn’t trust myself not to yell at him that I still, and always will, until I graduate and move out of the house, live with my father!

  “Suze,” Baker said. “I think you need to tell Mr. Farbinger the truth.”

  I turned my anger on him. “Oh, great. This is all your fault, and now you don’t believe me either?”

  “I do believe you,” Baker said. “That’s not what I meant. I think you need to tell Mr. Farbinger the real reason you were skipping class.”

  Only one other person besides my family knew why I’d played hooky. Amanda. Figures. What a big mouth. I was never telling her anything again. “Why? What difference would it make?” I asked.

  “Just tell him,” he said.

  “If there’s something you want to say,” Farbinger told me, “now’s the time.”

  “Fine,” I said. “I was skipping class as research for my English project. I wanted to see how many times the janitors would catch me.”

  “You knew about that?” Farbinger asked Baker.

  “Not until this morning.”

  “Well, that’s still no excuse for hanging out at the high school.”

  “I was testing their custodians. For my project.”

  For the first time since I’d laid eyes on the weasel, Farbinger was at a loss for words. “Well…well, you should’ve prearranged it with Mr. Baker first. And why didn’t you tell me that’s what you were up to when I had you in here for truancy?”

  “You didn’t ask,” I said.

  “Ask? Of course I asked.”

  “No, you didn’t,” I said. “You accused me of skipping class and going to the high school to see a boy. I don’t even know any boys there.”

  “Well…” Farbinger was losing ground, and he knew it. He rooted around in his brain for something to pin on me, and remembered the test. “Regardless,” he said, “that doesn’t have anything to do with your French midterm. I think you should take it again right now.”

  “A perfect score doesn’t constitute cheating,” Baker said. “And there’s no use in springing it on her again. No one could pass it under these circumstances.” Baker patted my shoulder, and I pulled away from him in spite of the fact he was sticking up for me. “Suze’s doing an excellent job in English. If she’s inspired to do well in her other classes, then I think that’s great.”

  Farbinger hemmed and hawed. “Perhaps I should call your Aunt Jenny and verify your story,” he said.

  “Sure, why not?” I told him in my surliest voice. “She’d love to see you again.”<
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  I saw a flash of panic cross Farbinger’s face as he remembered meeting AJ. In grade six he’d left me sitting in his office for five hours because he’d forgotten I was there. He’d actually gone to a staff meeting at the high school. I was too scared to come out without permission (I was young and naïve then, instead of the hardened criminal I am now), so at four o’clock I’d finally used his phone to call AJ because I didn’t want to get locked in the school overnight. Believe me, I knew he was not anxious to see her in here again after that. Especially if there was any chance I had been wrongly accused.

  “Yes, well…probably no need to call your aunt,” he finally said. “I suppose if Madame Duke’s satisfied that there are no shenanigans going on, then we’ll let it go for now.”

  She nodded her agreement. She had wrapped that rubber band so tight I was sure it was going to break and send the pencil spinning across the room like a propeller. I hoped if it did, the pencil would boomerang back and hit her in the face. The witch had accused me of cheating without saying a single word to me. She was definitely on my list of untrustworthy adults now.

  “You may go, Miss Tamaki,” Farbinger told me.

  Before I left I stared hard at each of them, one at a time. Farbinger was already thinking about what he’d be having for dinner, Duke looked relieved, and Baker smiled at me.

  I was still pissed.

  I shoved my chair out of the way so I could get out of the office. Just before I slammed the door, I heard Baker telling Farbinger I was a good girl, and he wished it hadn’t come to this. He also said he didn’t think I’d ever cheat.

  All was fine and dandy to them. But what about me? I’d studied for hours, sweated through dreams about getting lost in Montreal and not knowing the language, worried all morning before the test, only to get a hundred percent—my best score ever—and then been accused of cheating. And I’d been totally humiliated too.

  I ran to my locker to get my coat. I had to get out of this stinking school before I threw up all over Yoda’s shiny tile floor. I was pretty sure I was now scarred for life. I wondered if I could sue the school district for slander. AJ could testify that I studied, and Baker could be a character witness. Speaking of Baker, what if he hadn’t shown up at the meeting? What would have happened to me then? I might not only have flunked, but could have been expelled. Next time it came to studying, I’d have to decide if it was really worth it. I’m sure Baker, Duke, and Farbinger would all sleep fine tonight, but what about me? What about my feelings?