by Bruce Ingram
Two days later, after more before school tutoring, I took the expedited retake and made a 395—just five points from passing and once again, Ms. Waters said I had earned the opportunity to have another expedited retake. When is this crap ever going to end? Then I remembered last year on the Algebra I SOL, that I just Christmas treed the whole test, putting A, then B, then C, then D in those blanks and then going D, C, B, and A on the next round. And I passed the SOL with that approach. But I got to thinking that I wouldn’t luck out that way twice, I mean that really was a freak way to pass a math test. So on the third geometry SOL test, I decided to answer the questions I thought I might know with my best guess, then on the ones that I didn’t know and had narrowed the answer down to two possibilities, I would write in the letter that I didn’t think was the answer. My reasoning was that since I had already failed the thing twice, and those sadistic math teachers that create this crap are trying to fool us into putting down the wrong answer, I would put down what I thought was the wrong answer and it might be right. Does that make any sense at all?
Well, anyway, I don’t know what the heck happened, but when my SOL scores came back the third time, I had made a 405, which meant that not only had I passed the SOL but also I had clinched passing Geometry for the year. Man, there’s no way that Ms. Waters is going to fail me now and risk having me next year in her room. By the state and the school, I am now officially and statistically “proficient” in geometry… what a joke. I swear, I think some of the people who run things care more about students being “proficient” than us actually learning something we can use in life.
Chapter Forty-Six: Elly
I had a really, really good week last week; maybe my life is beginning to turn around. It started on Monday when I took the geometry SOL and only missed two questions on the whole test. The only person in my advanced class that scored better was Mia and, of course, she had a perfect score.
I also was finally old enough to get my driver’s license, and Mom and Dad said because I had truly been sorry about the “party episode” and had been trying to be more responsible and mature, that I was no longer grounded. Of course, my doing so well on the geometry SOL didn’t hurt my cause. Then they said they had a surprise for me, and we went out to the garage. When I had gotten home from school, I was wondering why Mom’s car was parked out on the street. Usually, Mom parks her car in the garage and when Dad gets home, he leaves his out by the curb. Dad’s got so much lawn care stuff and woodworking materials on his side of the garage that there’s no room for his car.
Dad rolled up the garage door and inside was a baby blue Prius. For a second or two, I wondered what was that strange car doing in there, but then I realized it was for me! It’s not brand new, it’s three years old, said Dad, but it has low mileage and should be just fine for me. “Maybe, that can still be your car when you go away to college,” said Mom.
“I’d be very okay with that,” I told them both and then I gave both my parents a big hug, and said I really appreciated them and would try not to let them down again. I really meant that. I started texting all my friends to let them know about my grounding being over and the Prius, and Mary texted back and said she would spread the word about my “being back among the living.” She will, too, she’s such a gossip.
About an hour later, I got a text from this senior Eric, who I only know just barely from the monthly Spanish Club meeting, and said he was glad to hear about my “newfound freedom.” I texted back “thank you,” and then for the next couple hours we texted back about every 10 minutes about some little thing. I’m not stupid, I knew what he was trying to do… figure out if I was showing enough interest in him to ask me out. He’s not bad looking, I don’t know what his grades are like; he seems okay, but I barely know him. It’s April and the prom’s next month and I bet he doesn’t have a date. Didn’t I say just recently that it’s better to be friends with a boy first before dating him? But, again, the prom’s next month, and I don’t have a date. But I’m only a sophomore and have two more years I can go to the prom. On the other hand, I went to the prom as a freshman, and it would be a shame not to go as a sophomore.
Predictably, Eric came by my lunch table the next day and hung around and hung around and was talking about just general stuff. It was so obvious that he was working himself up to ask me out, but he didn’t quite have the confidence to do it. I was smiling a lot and trying to make eye contact with him, but he kept looking off into to the distance or looking down and studying his shoes and finally he just drifted off to where he had been sitting. Mary came by, we don’t sit together at lunch anymore—she sits with some junior and senior girls and guys - , to where Paige and I were sitting, and she said the word was that Eric was going to ask me out to the prom. Sure enough, he texted me that night and asked me to the prom, and I tried to play it cool and not text back for half an hour so as to sort of let him know that I was thinking about it or had a lot of people texting me and guys asking me out. But instead, I texted back in, like, 12 minutes and wrote, “That would be fantastic!!!”
But I didn’t feel fantastic about agreeing to go to prom with him. Instead, I sort of felt blah and like I had let myself down again. Does that make sense, I don’t know. I told Mom about the prom date and she said she was excited for me, but then she looked me in the eye and said, “But you don’t seem that excited.”
I forced this big smile and started talking about what a great guy Eric is and how smart he is, but I don’t really know if all that is true or not. Mom said she and I would go prom dress shopping on Saturday and pick out something really pretty, and that I could drive the Prius to the mall and we would have lunch out later—“A girls’ day out,” she exclaimed. I gave a sincere smile to that, but I just worry that I’ve made another mistake involving guys.
Later that night, I called Mia and let her know all about my news, and we talked for a while and then she suggested that I could drive her home from school and have dinner at her house and then drive to the library to study for the PSAT 10 test. I told her I couldn’t imagine either one of us needing to study very much for that test, but then she confessed—and she said she was ashamed to admit it—but that what she really wanted for us to do was try to convince Luke to meet us at the library that night and work on his “math deficiencies” so he would do better on the PSAT. I said I would be glad to drive her to the library and help her tutor Luke.
Chapter Forty-Seven: Marcus
I keep having headaches and my leg still hurts after the ACL surgery, and it seems like the doctors keep giving me tests and more tests. Something’s just not right somewhere. I was supposed to take the PSAT 10 test earlier this week, but the test was in the morning and that’s when the headaches are worse, and Mom told me not to take the test if I wasn’t at my best, which I’m not so I just stayed at home that morning and went to my afternoon classes. The first four or five days I was back in school after my surgery I only went half days anyway; sometimes I went to my morning classes and other days I went to the afternoon ones. My grades are suffering, but Mom and Dad are really understanding, especially Mom. She has this worried look on her face all the time when she’s around me, and she’s, like, staring intently at me all the time.
Ms. Hawk has been really nice to me, too. One day she called me to her desk when the bell rang and told me to drop by her room after I finished eating lunch—that she wanted to talk to me. She then reassured me that my coming by wasn’t for anything bad, which relieved me because I’ve been so spacy I thought that I might have forgotten to have done some paper or something. Anyway, when I got to her room after eating, she asked about my recovery and we talked about that for a while and she said, “I want you to know how proud I am of your improvement in your writing skills this year and your overall effort. I believe you’ll recover just fine from your injuries, but even if you don’t, I believe you’ll have a bright future.”
I thanked her for all that, it meant a lot to me for her to say what she said; I haven�
��t had a lot of good news lately. But then I asked her, and I wasn’t being sarcastic, about what on earth would I do if I couldn’t play professional sports and go into broadcasting after I retired from playing?
She said “Lots of things, how about going into sports medicine, or being a coach, or maybe even teaching.” I laughed when she said all that, but she was real serious and explained what she had meant. She said the head and leg injuries I had had would give me an understanding of what other people went through when they had those and other injuries, and maybe during my recovery process, I could talk to doctors and athletic trainers about what made their jobs worthwhile to them. That answer really made me think. I know, I just know, that I’m going to be alright, but it wouldn’t be bad for me to pump those doctors and trainers about my condition and how other people recovered from the things I’m dealing with, and why those doctors and trainers went into medicine.
So I told her, the sports medicine thing was something I could see being interested in and maybe doing, but I said no way would I want to go into coaching high school athletes. She said I would be great at that, too, and I disagreed with her. Then she said, “From what I’ve heard, you haven’t been exactly the most coachable player, especially in the ninth grade, right?” I said yeah to that, but that I had changed and she said my past screw-ups and my newfound maturity would help me relate to high schoolers and also give me stories to tell about how I had had to grow up and show more maturity and why they should, too. Everything she said made sense and made me once again realize what a loser I had been last year. No wonder I was having relationship problems and girls kept dumping me.
Next, we talked about the possibility of a teaching career, which made no sense at all to me when she brought it up. But she said that I might really enjoy teaching history—she knew how good I was in that—or my teaching health and phys. ed. would fit in well if I decided to go into coaching. I then got a little sarcastic with her and asked, “What about me teaching English?”
She said—and she smiled when she answered, “I don’t think the world is quite ready for that, stick to history or phys. ed.,” and we both laughed.
That Friday night, Kylee came by and picked me up and we went out to dinner. I’m old enough to drive finally, but Mom and Dad won’t let me for obvious reasons. It was hard at first having a girl come by my house and pick me up and do all the driving, but Kylee has been so sweet about the whole thing that it’s been okay. At dinner, I told Kylee all about my conversation with Ms. Hawk, and she was down with the suggestions. She thought I would be a success at any of those possible jobs, and she could see me enjoying them. Kylee also said that she was sure I was going to have a full recovery from both my injuries and that she would continue to be there for me to talk to and run things by. I felt really close to her that night and am really glad we’re together.
Chapter Forty-Eight: Mia
I am tired of all these SOL tests and preparing for them non-stop in most of my classes. The tests are so easy, they’re so boring. What I like best about school is learning new things and being challenged about things that have questions but no easy answers to them. Or doing projects or researching something that I want to learn more about. Most of the SOL tests just have multiple choice questions, and they don’t require me to think deeply about anything. I’m not going to have multiple choice tests when I’m an adult, but I am going to have to think deeply about hard things and big ideas.
The best part of my life is spending time with Luke. Anything we do, anywhere we go, it’s so great to talk to him and ask him for his opinions on things and then have him listen to mine and have him comment on them. I confess to scheming so I can spend more time with him. The other day I invited Elly to come over to my house for dinner and then afterwards for us to go to the library and tutor Luke in the math section of the PSAT 10 test. Yes, I wanted to tutor him, and yes I really enjoy spending time with Elly, but also I just wanted to be with Luke for a little while at night, even if was tutoring him in math.
This is the second time Elly has come over for dinner. Last year, Poppa wanted to have what he considered American dishes, but this time, Mama and I decided that we would have a traditional Mexican dinner, so we decided on corn tortillas stuffed with beef, onions, and peppers. It was really good, and Elly really enjoyed it. Earlier, I had told Mama that Elly and I were going to meet Luke at the library for tutoring after dinner, and she said that would be fine. I know she likes Luke—she’s told me so many times and she is sincere. But, sometimes I just wish I could announce at the dinner table one evening that, “My boyfriend Luke is coming over to dinner tomorrow night, and he’s going to kiss me good night when he leaves, and, Poppa, there is nothing in the world wrong with that!” Instead, I have to sneak around to meet him, and I’m sick of all that.
Poppa keeps asking if I’m dating anyone and wanting to know why I never want to go out with all the Hispanic guys he keeps offering to set me up with because he’s friends or acquaintances with their dads. I’m sick and tired of all that, too. Mama just sits there quietly when all that is going on, and I have to stare at my sisters when Poppa is going on and on about some boy that would be perfect for me. I’m surprised my sisters haven’t told Poppa about Luke, even if it were by accident.
When Elly and I got to the library, I saw Luke was already there in his pickup, and he practically jumped out of his car to come greet me. We hadn’t seen each other in maybe three hours, but every time we’re together it just seems like… magic! The three of us then went to a table at the back of the library and started the tutoring process. On the way over to the library, Elly and I decided that the best way to help Luke was to go to one of those sample tests online and help him learn how to select the best answer. The way I think the SOL tests work is that there are four possible answers: one of which is obviously wrong and stupid, a second that looks wrong after you think about it for a couple seconds, and third and fourth answers that are really similar to each other, but one of them is still clearly the better answer of the two.
But Luke is so weak in math, he can’t even pick out the obviously wrong answer until he studies it for a long time. When he finally does figure out that part of the question, he can’t seem to understand which one of the other three questions can’t possibly be right, let alone figure out which one of the last two questions isn’t the answer. Elly and I stayed at the library and worked with Luke for almost an hour, and, honestly, I don’t think we helped him enough for him to do well on the math part of the PSAT 10.
Sure enough, when the results came out, he had great scores in the reading and writing sections and really low marks in the math part. I don’t care if Luke is not any good in math, he’s a good person with a good heart—that’s what means the most to me. After the three of us finished with the tutoring, we stopped at an ice cream parlor and ate our cones and talked in Elly’s car until it was time to go home. We all had the nicest time talking about school and life and current events, just anything and everything. Elly announced that she has a new boyfriend and they had their first date last Friday night, so that neither one of them would have “first date anxiety when we go to the prom,” said Elly.
I doubt that Luke and I ever will go to a prom together. Neither one of our families could ever afford it anyway. Besides I can have a great time with Luke on a Thursday night at the library and at an ice cream parlor—who needs all that glitz and glamor and high school drama that goes along with going to a prom.
Do Clothes Make the Boy—or Girl?
Chapter Forty-Nine: Luke
I’ve been wanting to take Mia out at night to somewhere special, and we’ve been talking about where to go and all that. I told her that I wanted to pay for our whole meal as a way to show how much she means to me, but she wanted to pay for her food because it would be too expensive for me if I paid for both of ours. Then she suggested that why doesn’t she pay for mine, and I pay for hers, but then after agreeing on that, we both decided that each of us woul
d be so worried about the cost of everything that neither one of us would order anything expensive.
Finally, we came up with the idea that we would take on some extra job somewhere together and then we would use that money to pay for our dinner out. Next, we couldn’t think about anything extra that we could do because it seems like we’re studying or going to school all the time and when we’re not, she’s off babysitting and I am doing some kind of manual labor. But then just out of nowhere, Leigh’s mom contacted Mia through our website and asked if we could dig up her old shrubbery lining the front of the house and plant some holly bushes instead. We worked there from noon until almost dark that Saturday and got it done. I used Granddaddy’s pickup to go to the local lawn and garden shop and picked up the hollies on Friday after school so we could work straight through on Saturday.
We worked like dogs all of Saturday afternoon, and we were both hot, sweaty, and filthy dirty. When we were finished, I put my hot, dirt covered hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, and she put her grimy, sweaty face close to mine and we kissed. So we had our money to go out to eat and Mia thought there would be some left over for us to split to put into our respective bank accounts for college. She’s so wonderful!
Then I started worrying about not having anything to wear. All I’ve got are jeans and two pairs of khaki pants. I’ve got school jeans that become work jeans when they start to get holes in them. You know that fad about kids buying jeans with holes in them to look stylish? Well, I was styling way before it became a fad. Beats me why some kids would pay extra to have holes in their jeans.
I shared my fear with Mia about not having the right kind of clothes to wear out to a restaurant. She said I would look like her knight in shining armor no matter what I wore. We both thought I should have on a tie, and all I have are some clip-ons from when I was a kid. But then she suggested that I borrow one of my granddaddy’s and that problem was solved.
