“It’s only been a couple of weeks. My grades won’t be much higher,” I say, chewing on my lip. We haven’t had enough grades yet to even out my average, but I’m still hopeful that I might be passing all of my classes.
With a deep breath, I open the paper.
Last time I was failing math, chemistry, and history.
This time I’m failing math, chemistry, and history.
My shoulders fall.
“It’s not so bad,” April says as she leans over my shoulder to see the grades. “You had thirties and forties and now you’re in the sixties.”
“Still not passing,” I say, folding the paper back up. I don’t know what I was expecting. Having a thirty-six in math class takes longer than two weeks to turn into a C or a B. A thirty-six is like…a triple F.
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” April says sweetly. “You’re really close to passing and there’s still two and a half months of school left.”
“Yeah, I know.” Without thinking about it, I look up at Jonah’s table.
He’s looking right at me.
Chills scatter across my arms as we make eye contact. I want to smile or wave at him, or show him my grades since I know he’d be interested. But I am frozen with shame for what I called him, and how badly I’ve hurt his feelings, so I don’t do anything.
His ex-girlfriend grabs his arm and tugs his attention away from me. She says something to him and then runs her hands through his hair, shaping it into a bigger version of a side-sweep. Then she cups his cheeks in her hand and says something that makes her laugh.
I look back at my food, wishing the sight of them together didn’t send a wide array of emotions through my heart. He deserves someone better than her. He also deserves someone better than me. He just deserves…better.
I shove my food away, unable to eat anymore with the turmoil that’s bubbling up in my stomach. April fills the silence with stories from her Home Ec. class, and I shove my progress report deep in my backpack so I don’t have to look at it anymore.
I try to go back to being excited for my date on Friday, but knowing I’ll have to see Jonah after school today makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Just before the final bell rings, I take out my phone and look up Jonah’s number. He’d given it to me on our first day of tutorials in case I ever needed to reach him. So far, we haven’t texted at all, but I send him one now.
Me:Sorry I can’t make tutorials today. Something came up
Jonah:no prob. See you Thursday
Well, I think, as I stare at the first new text I’ve had all day.At least he doesn’t seem to mind.
Chapter 16
If the human brain is supposed to be this glorious organ capable of sending a man to the moon and curing smallpox, why can’t my mind work properly? All it does is think about my date with Caleb. Before that, all it did was think about Jonah. And then the store.
The phrase “one track mind” applies here, I think. Maybe it’s the teenage hormones. Maybe I’m just broken. But as I sit in class trying to work on these extra credit assignments, my hand just hovers the pencil over the first problem. It doesn’t write anything. I read the words over and over but they don’t make any sense because I’m not focusing. My mind is a train stuck on one track and that track is Caleb Brown.
In the hallways between classes, I can barely function like a normal human because I’m constantly wondering if he’ll find me again, lean against the lockers and chat with me. Or better, if he’ll walk with me to my next class. I close my eyes and think of the smell of him, how it’s a little overpowering but still good.
Then it makes me think of Jonah and how he smells better. I grit my teeth and try to ignore that. Jonah may smell better, but Caleb is popular, handsome, and he likes me. We’re going on a date. That is all that matters.
I don’t see him all day, except for during lunch where he’s at his normal table. April encourages me to go say hello but that would be like telling a deer to go say hi to a group of starving lions. I’m not that stupid.
Disappointment stings, but I try not to think about it. Maybe this is protocol for going on dates. You don’t really hang out until after the date. Too bad that’s three days away.
On Wednesday, things aren’t any better. April can probably tell that I’m feeling weird because she talks the entire time we walk to school and then she talks all through lunch, and she texts me jokes and stupid photos while I’m in class to make me feel better. But another day of being totally ignored by Caleb really gets to me and I’m starting to question if he ever asked me out or not. Maybe I tripped and fell in the hallway that day, banging my head on the wall. Maybe I was hallucinating that Caleb walked up being all unbelievably sexy and leaned against the lockers and asked me out for Friday. Maybe it was all just a dream.
I know that’s mostly just the paranoid part of my brain talking, because there’s no way I could have hallucinated so realistically, but it’s enough to keep me from approaching Caleb myself. Because after all, he asked me on a date and then hasn’t sought me out again. Maybe Ididimagine it.
And since my one track mind has been remarkably stuck on thoughts of Caleb, I text Jonah again telling him I can’t make tutorials on Thursday. He doesn’t reply right away like he did last time I blew him off, and it gets me worried that maybe he’s in the library waiting on me. April and I have nearly walked all the way home when he finally writes back.
Jonah:okay
