The Ordinary Life of Emily P. Bates

by Anna Cackler

  I gave him a half smile when he noticed me looking at him, then turned and started power-walking toward the glass doors that led into the cafeteria.

  “Hey! Stop. Wait!”

  I ignored him, head down. My book bag thumped against the backs of my knees with every step.

  He was faster than I’d given him credit for. I’d nearly made it to the double doors when he caught up to me. He put a cool hand on my elbow and I had to stop.

  “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” he asked. He had a warm voice at odds with his cold touch, a voice that seemed right on the edge of laughter.

  “Oh,” I said, thinking fast. “No, I heard you.”

  I looked up at him, excuse at the ready, and then stopped. He had seemed good looking at a distance, but up close he was devastating. His eyes were so dark that they were like black pools, iris indiscernible from pupil.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. The laughter in his voice was a little less now.

  “Uh, yeah.” I flushed and turned away, silently cursing myself for staring. I went to the cafeteria doors and felt his hand slip off of my elbow. His hand had been cold, but the place where he’d touched me was burning.

  I pushed through the doors and my ears were instantly barraged with the echoing chatter of hundreds of students. I spotted Shannon and Finn at our usual table across the room and started walking toward them.

  “You stalled out at a stop light last week, didn’t you?” said the new boy suddenly. He was taking very long strides in an effort to keep up with me.

  I glanced up at him, confused as to what point he was trying to make. “Yeah. Sorry. Oscar’s kind of finicky like that.”

  “Who’s Oscar?”

  We were almost to my table and Shannon had spotted me. She had been talking to Margo, who usually didn’t sit with us, but had been distracted by the sight of the boy walking next to me. Her eyebrows furrowed.

  I ignored the warning signs that Shannon was building up her drama-arsenal and focused instead on not making a fool of myself in front of this beautiful boy that was inexplicably still walking with me. “Oscar’s my car,” I said, staring again. So much for not making a fool of myself. “Listen, do I know–ow!” I stopped mid question when I knocked into the corner of the table and fell right into Finn’s lap. Finn barely caught me just before I slipped off of his lap and into the floor, which I was immensely grateful for.

  I forced myself to check the boy’s reaction, but he wasn’t laughing. He just looked relieved that Finn had caught me.

  And was it just me, or did he have his hand extended as if to catch me, too?

  “Apple?” Finn asked, holding the bright green fruit in front of my face. I took it, still distracted by the boy that seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

  “Listen Em,” Finn said. “Are you setting up camp on my lap or something? Cause the least you could do is distribute your weight evenly across both legs.”

  “Sorry.” I slid into the empty seat next to Finn, and he picked up his book again.

  The handsome boy sat across from me, staring just as much as I was. This only served to make me flush even redder.

  “Emily,” Shannon said. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

  I glanced at Shannon, at a loss. I didn’t even know the guy’s name. “Uh, this is Shannon and her brother Finnegan,” I said. Then I noticed Margo on Shannon’s other side looking at me expectantly. “And Margo?” I hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question, but since when did Margo eat with us?

  “Finn,” Finn corrected from behind his book. He was staring over the top of it at our new acquaintance, eyebrows furrowed in much the same way as Shannon’s had been. Margo smiled and gave a muted, “Hi.”

  “You must be Ethan,” Shannon said. She extended her hand to the boy, all smiles.

  “How’d you know?”

  Shannon shrugged. “Oh you know. Small town.”

  Finn turned to give me a questioning look behind his book. I shrugged, honestly not knowing how else to respond. I had no idea why this beautiful boy was following me around like a lost puppy.

  “Yeah,” Ethan said. The laughter was back in his voice. “I heard small towns were lousy with gossip.”

  “First time amongst common folk then?” Shannon’s words were rude, but the way in which she said it just made it sound so sweet and charming. Now it was her turn to be stared at. Why couldn’t I be charming like that? Or at least coherent?

  “Lived in Dallas my whole life.” He smiled at me. “Sorry, I don’t mean to barge in on you guys like this. I just saw Emily?” He said my name like a question, so I nodded. “She looked just as lost as me. I figured I’d found another new student to use as a crutch. Guess I was wrong.” He grinned and sat up to look around the cafeteria over the heads of the other students. “So how does breakfast work here? I’m starving.”

  He looked at me first, but I couldn’t get out any intelligible words. So instead I just pointed at the entrance to the food line. He smiled at me as if he and I had just shared a private joke, and then got up to wait in line.

  “Wow, Em, you work fast, don’t you?” Shannon said as soon as Ethan was out of earshot. “I’m proud of you.”

  “What?” I sputtered. “What’s that supposed to mean? Who the hell is that guy?”

  Finn sighed and returned his attention to his battered copy of The Princess Bride.

  “That’s Ethan Cavanagh, remember? I told you he was a new guy at school and Margo said he was cute. And he is, I’d like to point out. Very cute.”

  Margo nodded her assent to this, her blond curls bobbing, but said nothing.

  “You never told me about him.” I took a large bite of my apple. “And what do you mean ‘I work fast’?”

  “I mean he’s been a student here for five minutes and he’s already fixated on you.” She nudged Finn’s elbow. “Didn’t you see how he stared at her?”

  “I don’t like him,” Finn said.

  “What?”

  “I don’t like him.”

  “And why not?” Shannon sounded offended.

  “He works too fast.”

  “I thought I was the one who worked too fast,” I said.

  “No offense, Em, but that was not your proudest moment. You couldn’t even walk in a straight line. He was the one working his magic on you.”

  I frowned to hide my smile. I think Finn noticed.

  “What’s so funny?” Ethan sat down across from me again, laden with an overflowing bowl of biscuits and gravy and a carton of milk.

  I forced the involuntary smirk off of my face.

  “Oh nothing,” Shannon said. “Emily’s just being Emily.”

  I glared at Shannon as Finn picked up his book with a resigned sigh.

  The rest of breakfast passed with little incident. Between Shannon, Margo, and Ethan, the conversation didn’t lag even a little. I eventually found my voice and was even able to make Ethan laugh once without flushing. Finn didn’t join in on the conversation, but that was normal. I’d have been concerned if he had put his book down.

  After breakfast, Shannon finally got me on my own when we veered away from the others to find our lockers at the other end of the building.

  “So that was strange,” Shannon said with a meaningful look. I ignored it. “We don’t get many visitors at breakfast.”

  “You bring people to breakfast all the time. And lunch too,” I reminded her. “What about Margo?”

  “Margo’s different. She’s not the handsome new guy that seems to have eyes only for you.”

  My face grew hot. “Shut up, he does not.”

  “Of course he does.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” I said. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t press the subject.”

  “Sorry, sorry.” She pulled out her schedule and began to study it. “What kind of classes do you have? Margo and I haven’t got anything in common.”

  “Spanish III, Art, Chemistry, Music Appreciation,” I ticked them of
f on my fingers. “Calculus, Government, and Literature.”

  “Ick,” she said. “I’ve got Calculus and Chemistry with you, but my Spanish class is last period.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Sí,” she sighed. “Okay, well I’ve got to get to Civics. I think Charlie’s in there with me. I ran into him this morning before you brought your boyfriend over.”

  “I thought we were dropping this subject!” I found my locker and yanked it open a little too hard. The door clanged against the neighboring locker and Jenny Black glared at me.

  “Fine, fine,” she said with a grin, and disappeared down the hall to find her own locker. Jenny slammed her locker shut and turned on her heal without saying a word. I rolled my eyes. She’d always hated me.

  The day dragged by much as I had expected it would. I practically slept through Spanish and Music Appreciation, but stared in horror at Mr. Yarsden as he began going through the material for that night’s Calculus homework. If there was anything I was absolutely terrible at, it was math. I did all right with Algebra, and Mom had assured me that Calculus was just one simple little step up from that. I had news for Mom: Calculus was anything but simple.

  Ethan was in that class with us too, and I couldn’t help but watch him as he chatted with his neighbor, Nick Parker, in a manner that could only be described as breezy. I had never actually seen anyone be breezy. Ever. I didn’t think it was possible for a teenager to be breezy. But there he was, all light and airy and cheerful like a fluttering curtain on a cool day.

  Shannon noticed me watching him and I saw a spark of intuition alight in her green eyes. If I had the guts to try passing a note to her, I would send her one that strictly forbade her from meddling at all in my friendship with Ethan. Because that’s all it was. Friendship. Barely. I mean come on! I barely knew the guy! I’d only met him that morning!

  I tried to send her the message with my eyes, but I think she may have thought I was trying to tell her that her mascara was running because she began frantically wiping under her eyes.

  Shannon lagged behind after class, rummaging through her bag for her schedule. I waited with her because it gave Ethan plenty of time to disappear into the general crowd in the hallway. He flashed me another huge grin on his way out. I think I may have smiled back, but it’s possible that I scowled at him instead.

  “Did I get the mascara off?” Shannon asked.

  “What?” I asked, and then grinned when I realized what she meant. “Yeah, you got it.”

  “Welcome to Literature everyone. My name is Ms. Anne Walsh.” The pretty English teacher had only been teaching for a couple of years, but this was the first time that I had ever had one of her classes. Her room didn’t have the usual thirty or so desks in it. Instead, there were eight or nine four-person tables, almost like a recycled biology room. When I walked in and spotted Finn near the back at a table with only one empty seat left, I rushed over to sit opposite him . He didn’t even look up from his book.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.” I recognized the other two boys sitting at the table as Jeff Sweeney, a stocky, nervous sort of boy, and Tom Noll, who was very tall and lanky and very, very shy. The both of them were in my Chemistry class as well, though I hadn’t sat anywhere near them that morning. To be frank, I don’t think I’d said more than four words to either of them since the third grade. They were kind of nerdy.

  Finn’s choice of table mates didn’t surprise me, though. If he sat at the reject table where no one ever bothered to talk, then he’d have just that much more time to read.

  “You’re all practically adults now,” Ms. Walsh continued, “and you’ve already been through ten or so first days, so I won’t bore you with the redundant. Let’s leave it at if you’re fair and respectful, then I’ll return the favor. Now lets–Mr. O’Malley?” She paused. Jeff and Tom both hunkered down in their seats as if they didn’t want to be noticed associating with anyone who drew the attention of the teacher.

  “Yes, Ms. Walsh?” Finn said.

  “Would you please do me the honor of paying attention in class?” Her eyes fell to the book that was now lying inconspicuously in his lap. “Not a good first impression, I’d say.”

  “Sorry.” The book disappeared. Finn folded his hands on top of his desk and winked at me. I tried not to smile.

  “Thank you. Now, I’d like to start the class with a little exercise. How many of you enjoy poetry?” A few hands fluttered half-heartedly into the air.

  “Great. Everyone take out a piece of paper. We’re going to write some poetry. There’s nothing like hands on learning to start a school year out right.” A collective groan filled the air as we all pulled out pens and notebooks. “Don’t worry. This is fun and relatively painless. I promise. Everyone pick a partner and we’ll do some flash poetry.” She moved around to the front of the room.

  “All right, everyone, write down what you think would make a great title for a poem. An original title. Write it down, then when I give the go-ahead, pass it to your partner.”

  I looked down at my blank paper. Never before had a simple piece of lined paper ever looked so intimidating. Glancing upward, I saw Finn scribble a few words on his paper, then look up at me expectantly. Even Jeff and Tom had written something down. The whiteness of my page was making me nervous. Butterflies-in-my-stomach kind of nervous.

  “Okay, now pass your papers. Use your partner’s title to write a brief poem. Just write the first thing that pops into your head. It doesn’t even have to be very good. You have thirty seconds. Go.”

  Finn was handing me his paper. In a fluster, I scribbled the word “Butterflies” on my page and traded with Finn. I stared at his title and frowned.

  Running Naked

  What did that mean? Running naked? As in streaking? I glanced back up at Finn. His head was low over his paper so I couldn’t see what he was writing.

  “All right,” Ms. Walsh said. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Any volunteers?”

  Then a thought popped in my head and I started scribbling with a mischievous grin.

  “What’s so funny?” Finn asked when I finished my four hasty lines.

  “Nothing,” I said, but he’d already snatched back my paper.

  He laughed suddenly, making me, Tom, and Jeff jump, and then kept laughing–quite loudly. He showed Tom the paper, and incredibly, Tom laughed, too. So did Jeff when Finn showed him, though it was more of a strangled snort than a laugh. My face was turning red.

  “It’s not that funny,” I hissed at Finn, trying to snatch my paper back from him.

  “What’s not that funny?” Ms. Walsh had come to investigate the disturbance. Finn handed her my poem without hesitation. She read, and then smirked. She was trying not to laugh, too.

  “Did you write this, Finnegan?”

  He shook his head, still laughing, and pointed at me. What color does one’s face turn after red? Is it purple? If it is, then my face was purple at that point.

  “Okay everyone, I think we’ll start with Emily Bates’ poem entitled Running Naked.” She turned to me, holding out my poem for me to take back. “Would you like to share your poem with the class?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Finn kicked my shin under the table.

  I glared at him and took my poem from Ms. Walsh.

  Running Naked

  That cool breeze upon my bare

  Is really quite refreshing.

  And though I don’t mind that they stare,

  I wish they would stop laughing.

  For about three seconds, the silence was deafening. I looked up, waiting for someone to react like Finn, Tom, and Jeff had, and then it hit. Someone across the room let out a loud “Whoa!” and then the entire room erupted into laughter. It had taken them a couple of seconds to get the reference, but once they did, there was no stopping the hysterics. Even Ms. Walsh was chuckling out loud now. Finn was laughing again, and he reached across the table to punch me in the arm.

 
“You’re such a smart ass!” he said in an undertone. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  I shrugged, grinning despite myself.

  “All right!” Ms. Walsh said as the giggling died down. “All right. So we’ve had quite the first example. Would anyone else like to share theirs?”

  I hunkered down in my seat after that. The rest of the class passed without incident, which I think Tom and Jeff were very glad of.

  “I heard about the uproar you caused in class today,” Shannon said as we all walked back toward the parking lot that afternoon. Ethan was describing the finer points of a new shoot-em-up game that had just come out for the X-Box to Finn, and Margo was trailing along with Shannon and me.

  “The poem wasn’t really that funny,” I said.

  “That’s not what Finn says,” Margo said, flipping her short, curly, blond hair out of her face.

  “Finn’s generous.”

  Margo said nothing, but Shannon didn’t miss a beat.

  “Now you’re being generous, Em. Hey, you should come by my place tonight after supper.”

  “Why?” I asked, stopping at my car to wrench the door open.

  “Me and Margo are gonna work on our calculus tonight. You should come.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said, a little distracted. Ethan was watching me as he pulled open the door of his truck. He waved casually. I smiled, staring a little.

  “Emily!”

  “What?” I whipped my head around and causing my own ponytail to smack me in the face. Shannon and Margo were both smirking and Finn was watching me warily. I risked a glance back at Ethan as he started his truck. He was grinning to himself as he pulled out of the parking lot.

  “I asked if you’d drop me off at work,” Finn repeated himself.

  “Oh. Right, yeah.”

  Shannon shook her head in a self-righteous sort of way. She turned and started walking home across the school’s huge front lawn with Margo. A sudden pang of annoyance swept through my gut, temporarily dislodging the heavy weight that my mother’s pregnancy had settled there. Since when did Shannon invite Margo over to her house?