Morgan looked at her. “I don’t care about you.” Then she shifted her attention back to me. “I know about you and Fletcher. And that really doesn’t work for me.”
I sighed. She was obviously one of his groupies, although I thought she had a boyfriend. Not really my business. “Look, nothing happened.”
“He took you home. And he told me he likes you.”
I heard Kendall’s jaw pop as it dropped. As for me, I was having a difficult time processing words all of a sudden. The ones she’d just spoken seemed to echo between the tiled walls, between my ears. “What do you mean he likes me?”
“That’s what he said.” She looked me over like I was a new species. “I don’t get it.”
“I’m sure you misunderstood.”
“I’m sure I didn’t.” She took a step nearer, seemed surprised that I didn’t step back. “I want to go to a party with him Saturday night, so tell him that you don’t like him.”
She stomped out. Blinking, I stared at the door closing slowly behind her.
“He likes you,” Kendall said at the same time that I thought, He likes me?
“Is this good or bad?” Kendall asked.
“It’s ridiculous.” I grabbed my backpack.
“Maybe not. I wish we didn’t have to get to class,” Kendall said. “We’ll discuss it at lunch. See if Jeremy has heard anything.”
I walked out into the hallway. “There’s nothing to discuss. She’s wrong.”
“You only think that because he hasn’t kissed you. Maybe he doesn’t kiss girls he likes.”
I glared at her.
“Okay, he probably does kiss girls he likes. We’ll talk at lunch.”
She hurried down the hallway to her chemistry class. I headed to the front office. During this period I served as an office aide. The tardy bell rang as I walked through the door.
“Morning, Avery,” Mrs. Muldrow, the office secretary, said, as she filled out an absentee slip for someone.
“Hi.” I went behind the counter where two other student aides were already working and shoved my backpack into a little cubby. I was used to the routine. A few kids were lining up for tardy slips. I filled out the form, including the student’s name and excuse, then passed it down to Mrs. Muldrow, for her signature.
The tardies were light this morning. When the waiting area was clear, Mrs. Muldrow released a deep sigh, which was also part of the routine. Then she smiled at us. “Hard to believe another year is over. Cookies are in the copy room.”
She was famous for her oatmeal cookies. We all grabbed one and then took seats waiting for our assignments.
“This is our last time to meet like this,” Kevin said, as though it was a revelation. He shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Most kids called him Gamer because he hung out in comic book stores and played role-playing games all the time. He’d read every Game of Thrones book.
“I’ll miss you guys next year,” Sarah-Jane said slowly, like air seeping from a balloon.
She was a junior, and I really liked her, even though she dragged her sentences out into forever. “There’s so much to do senior year, you won’t even notice we’re gone,” I assured her.
“I’ll notice.” She peered over at me, wrinkled her brow. “I heard about you and Fletcher.”
I rolled my eyes, shook my head. “He just gave me a ride home.”
“I heard . . . he liked you. And he is so hot. You’re so lucky.”
What did I say to that?
“Sarah-Jane!” Mrs. Muldrow called out.
Sarah-Jane popped up. Mrs. Muldrow assigned her to help one of the counselors.
“You go together,” Kevin said quietly.
I looked at him. “What?”
“You and Fletcher go together.”
“In what universe?”
He grinned. “In this one.”
I blushed, because he often talked to me about his role-playing games. When things were slow in the office he would ask my opinion on various backgrounds he was creating for his characters. “I wasn’t making fun of you.”
“I know. You’re too nice to do that, but you should play the games with me sometime. You’d be good at them.”
Mrs. Muldrow called him up and gave him a note to deliver to a teacher. As he was leaving, a woman walked in holding a small paper sack. She spoke with Mrs. Muldrow, who tapped a few keys on her computer before calling me over.
“Need you to deliver this to Andrea Jackson. She’s in Mr. Turner’s class.”
“She’s on a special diet,” the woman said, and I realized she was probably Andrea’s mother. I didn’t really need to know the details of what was inside.
“I’ll get it to her,” I promised.
I left the office and crossed the courtyard, heading to the math and science building. I thought about trying to peer into Mr. Tant’s chemistry class to see how Kendall was doing on the exam, but I didn’t want to distract her. It was the only exam she had to take and she’d missed getting an A in the class by two points. So I walked on by without stopping.
When I got to Mr. Turner’s class, I rapped quietly on the door. Through the window, I saw him get up and approach. I also saw Fletcher, front row, far side of the room. Mr. Turner opened the door. Fletcher glanced up briefly, revealing that storm-cloud expression I’d seen before. That sure wasn’t the look you gave someone that you liked. I knew the I-like-her look. I’d seen Jeremy give it to Kendall enough times. It was a slow grin, a crinkling at the corner of his eyes. It was joyous, happy, glad.
“Yes?” Mr. Turner prodded, bringing me back to my reason for being here.
“Andrea’s lunch. Her mom just brought it.”
Now there were two storm clouds looking at me. “Did she not know she would need lunch before she left home this morning?”
“I’m just the messenger. I think there’s a law that prevents you from taking your frustrations out on me.”
He sighed. “Just because you aced my class, Miss Watkins, does not mean that you can talk disrespectfully to me.”
“I meant no disrespect.” I really hadn’t, but it wasn’t my fault I had a lunch to deliver.
He took the sack, holding it daintily with his thumb and forefinger as though he thought it might contain Ebola or something equally deadly. “Thank you, Miss Watkins. I’ll see she gets it when she turns in her exam.”
He closed the door. I peered through the window. Fletcher was scribbling again.
I headed back to the office. The time went really slowly. Kevin and I rotated running errands. The entire time, my mind wandered back to Fletcher, then further back to Morgan.
Ten minutes before the bell would ring to dismiss class, I approached the counter. Mrs. Muldrow smiled. “Another cookie?”
“Oh, no thanks. I was wondering if it would be okay if I went ahead and left so I could get an early start on lunch.”
“I think you’ve earned an early dismissal.”
After grabbing my backpack, I walked through the door, across the courtyard, and into the math and science building. I knew where Fletcher was. I needed to talk to him.
Chapter 14
FLETCHER
When the bell rang, I was ready. I couldn’t escape the four walls of algebra class fast enough. I hated the subject, disliked the teacher. He disliked me.
When I saw Avery, I just kept on walking. She fell into step beside me. There weren’t many girls who could keep up with me, but she had legs that went on forever. She had no trouble at all.
“I ran into Morgan Anderson earlier,” she said, not even breathing heavily.
“Hope you didn’t hurt her too badly.”
“What?”
“When you ran into her. I assume you were in your car.”
“Can you stop?” she asked.
“Not really. I’m ready for lunch. I’m hungry.”
She grabbed my arm. “Morgan said—”
I swung around. She closed her mouth, backed up a step. I could imagine w
hat my face showed. I was pretty sure I hadn’t gotten enough problems correct to get the score I needed to pass algebra. Without algebra, I wouldn’t graduate. The last thing I wanted to deal with was some stupid reputation crisis.
“She thinks something happened between us,” I said. “She doesn’t believe that all I did was take you home. What does it matter what she thinks or what she believes or what she’s telling people? All of this”—I flung out my arms—“it doesn’t mean anything. What all these people think doesn’t make any difference. We know the truth of what happened. That’s all that matters. Why can’t you just care about that?” I wanted someone to punch me in the mouth, to shut me up. People were staring, but I couldn’t seem to stop ranting. “In two days you won’t ever walk these halls again. After graduation, you won’t see most of these people again. Do you really think any of them are going to remember any kind of gossip that was going around about you? Not all of us are smart like you, Einstein. Most of us just want to get through it and get out.”
She blinked with those blue eyes of hers, only now they were bigger and rounder than I’d ever seen them. I took a deep breath, let it out through my mouth. Took another. Then glared at the kids standing around. “What are you doing? Get out of here. Go eat lunch.”
They scurried. I took another deep breath, plowed my hands through my hair. “Sorry.”
She smiled, actually smiled. It wasn’t much of one, but it was enough. “We had quite the audience. I’m pretty sure that now no one is going to think anything happened between us.”
I scoffed. “Yeah.”
She looked down at her feet, her white sandals. Her toenails were painted pink. I didn’t know why I noticed. She finally lifted her gaze to mine. “She said you told her that you liked me.”
I slammed my eyes closed, opened them. “Don’t read anything into that.”
“But you did say it.”
“She was making some snide comments and I wanted her to know I didn’t appreciate it.”
“About me?”
I didn’t want her to know what Morgan had said, didn’t want to have this conversation. “What does it matter?”
“About me.” She nodded like she was answering her own question. “She wanted me to make sure you knew I wasn’t interested, so she can date you.”
“I don’t date. I get together with girls, we have a good time. She knows that.”
“Do you like her?”
I thought of a hundred things I could have said that would have had her heading down the hallway, but they would have all been lies, and for some reason I couldn’t lie to her. “I used to. But again, what does it matter?”
She shrugged. “One more question.”
I sighed in resignation. “Sure, why not?”
“Did you blow the algebra test? You looked really unhappy when I was in the room earlier.”
Not what I was expecting. Not one I really wanted to answer. “Let’s just say it was more complicated than I was prepared for.” Like you, I thought.
She nodded. “I’ll let you go enjoy lunch now.”
“Maybe you should tell me where you’re going so I can avoid it. Don’t want to end up with tea all over me again.”
“You won’t. Today I’ll be drinking a shake.”
She started to walk off. I watched as she pulled her cell phone from her jeans pocket. A couple of seconds later, she was holding it to her ear.
“Hey,” I heard her say. “You free for lunch? Okay, see you soon. You know where. Love you.”
My gut twinged at the final words. She quickened her pace and I tried not to wonder who she was meeting, who she loved, or why I cared.
Chapter 15
AVERY
Jo-Jo’s Diner was one of my favorite places, not so much because of the greasy food, but because of the memories I had of the place. When I was much younger, Mom and I would meet Dad here when he took a break from patrolling the streets. Sometimes I still met him here.
He was already sitting in a red vinyl booth when I arrived. He slid out and gave me a hug, before giving me a steely-eyed assessment.
“I’m fine,” I assured him before I slipped into the booth and opened the menu.
“You don’t have that memorized yet?” he asked as he sat across from me.
“I was thinking of ordering something different.” I looked up. “Am I boring because I always order the same thing?”
“You’re not boring.” Dad was wearing a dark brown suit. He’d been promoted to detective a few years back. Sometimes the patrol officers called Dad in to handle difficult cases. I still wondered how Fletcher had gotten into his orbit, but I didn’t think he’d tell me if I asked.
The waitress came over and I asked for the pimento cheese sandwich and potato salad. Strawberry shake. The same thing I always ordered. Dad went with meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Coffee. Sometimes he went with pot roast. After the waitress left, he crossed his arms on the table. “So what’s up?”
“Can’t I just want to have lunch with you?”
“Avery, you’re my daughter. I know you. When you call me for lunch, it’s because there’s something you want to discuss—usually without your mother around.”
We’d met here to plan a surprise party for my mom’s fortieth. I’d met Dad here the first—and only—time I got a C on an exam. I’d met him here to discuss guys, grades, and college applications. I’d even met him here shortly after they’d adopted Tyler and I was struggling with no longer being an only child. Eventually I talked everything over with Mom. But Dad was almost always my first stop. Before I could drive, if I called him, he’d pick me up at school. He was always there.
“We won’t be able to do this next year, when I’m off at college,” I told him.
“Find a diner you like in Austin. You can go there, I’ll come here and we can video chat. It’ll be almost the same.”
Almost. But I wouldn’t smell my dad’s Obsession aftershave. I wouldn’t feel his large, warm hand cover mine with reassurance when the things we discussed were difficult, like when my grandparents died or a guy I was tutoring had overdosed.
The waitress brought us our food. I slurped on my shake, thought of the mess it would make if I poured it over Fletcher’s head. He’d gotten off easy with the tea. Although I wasn’t sure he’d deserved that either. It wasn’t his fault what everyone thought.
Dad was watching me, waiting patiently. He never hurried his investigations. Never rushed me to tell him what was on my mind.
“So how important are reputations?” I asked.
He studied me while he finished chewing his bite of meatloaf, took a sip of coffee. “They’re crucial. A good reputation can take you a long way.”
“But what if they’re wrong?”
“Are you thinking of any in particular?”
There was so much that I didn’t want my dad to know about Saturday night—that I’d lied about where I was going, that I’d been drinking, that I’d gotten a ride home with a guy I barely knew. It didn’t matter that I knew him better now.
“A rumor was going around school about me. It wasn’t true, but people believed it. I couldn’t stop it from spreading, and it altered my reputation. It made me wonder if other reputations aren’t true.”
“There’s usually some seed of truth in a reputation,” he said.
I could see that. The seed in mine was that I had gotten a ride with Fletcher. I wondered what the seed was in Fletcher’s, because he just didn’t seem as bad as I’d always believed.
“But you shouldn’t judge a person solely on their reputation,” Dad said. “Take Fletcher, for example.”
I sat up straighter. Yes, let’s take Fletcher as an example.
Dad tapped his fingers on the table, and I knew he was weighing his words. “He has a reputation for getting into trouble, truancy, not always following the speed limit. You have to dig a little deeper. Maybe he just had some tough breaks.”
“Like what?” I asked.
Dad
gave me his Fort Knox look, which meant I wasn’t breaking into his vault of confidentiality.
“I see some ugly stuff, Avery. It’s part of the job. A lot of it I can’t change. Thought I could change some things with Fletcher. Is it causing problems for you at school because he’s living with us?”
“Oh, no,” I assured him. “I haven’t told anyone.” I grimaced. “Well, except for Kendall and Jeremy. They know. But they’re not saying anything. I don’t think Fletcher has either.”
“Yeah, the kid has a lot of pride. Too much maybe. Makes it hard to help sometimes.” He grinned slightly. “But we were talking about your reputation, I think.”
“Kids thought something happened that didn’t, and they started looking at me differently, expecting me to behave in ways I never would. I was just wondering if I was worrying about it too much. I won’t see these people after graduation. Does it matter what they think?”
“It would help if I knew what they were thinking.”
“I’d rather not say.”
He mulled it over. “Just do the right thing, stay true to yourself. Your mom and I will always be proud of you.”
Which was what I wanted. Or at least what I thought I wanted. A part of me wished I was a little more like Fletcher and didn’t care what people thought. It seemed like it would be so liberating.
“So you’re almost finished with school,” Dad said, taking me away from things I was tired of thinking about. “How does it feel?”
“Great. And speaking of being finished with school, I thought maybe we should renegotiate my curfew once I graduate.”
He narrowed his eyes slightly. “In what way?”
“Could do away with it completely,” I suggested hopefully.
“I’m not willing to go that far. I don’t think your mom will be either.”
“But I don’t have to get up for class. And in a few months I’ll be on my own. Seems like I should be getting ready for that big step. Practicing, setting my own limits for how late I stay out.”
Trouble From the Start Page 9
