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nodded and I saw some amusement that tickled the corner of his mouth.
I finished a drawing for the rest of sixth period and headed to the cafeteria for study hall.
Chet moved down and I took his seat. The rest of the group all moved, grumbled, saw it was for me and shut up. I hid a smile at their expense. Bryce dropped his history books on the table across from me and sat beside Becky Lew.
No one reacted, but—like always—they watched me for the reaction.
I disappointed them all and focused on my homework. I finished my calculus and got up to buy a pop. When I returned to the table, Bryce was back at his seat across from mine. Becky Lew and her friends had moved to the open section of the cafeteria. They were painting signs for the soccer and basketball team. The rest of the cheerleaders had moved into the cafeteria so it must've been a planned event.
I ignored Bryce and started my history homework until the final bell rang. Bryce walked beside me towards my locker and asked, "What are you doing after school?"
I ignored him, but then he tapped my arm and leaned closer when we arrived at my locker. His arm draped across the top of the locker and he effectively entrapped me against the locker.
"What are you doing now?"
I shook my head and slipped out from underneath.
"Sheldon," he called out.
"I'll see you later," I called over my shoulder and disappeared around the corner.
The counselor's office was vacated, but the back office doors were still open. I walked to Miss Connors, knowing from prior trips where her office was located and watched her shuffle papers around her desk. She gripped a pencil in her teeth and frowned at her computer screen. The day must've been long for her because there were sweat marks down the back of her silk blouse and her skirt was rumpled where she would sit on it.
She sighed in frustration to herself and wrote a note on a pad near the phone.
I cleared my throat.
As Miss Connors whirled in her chair to see me, I said tightly, "So I hear that you think I'm sleeping with a teacher?"
"Sheldon," she murmured, reproachfully.
I walked in, shut the door, and took a seat in the lounger besides her desk.
"It's out of line and I'm a bit disappointed in how unoriginal you are," I said firmly and leaned back.
She smiled tensely and retorted, "Got you in here, didn't it?"
"So you know it's a lie?"
"I know that you're not sleeping with Mr. Sayword, but you have to admit that it's a bit suspect. You mouth off to the teachers except him. You are either consistently late or you don't show up at all, except sixth period. You've never been tardy to one of his classes and you've had him for four years now. The days you do skip, you always stay after the next day." She sighed. "You do the math."
"I respect him."
"Your other two friends have never shared an art class with you. Is that why? Do you act out because you're reacting to their influence?"
I didn't even dignify that with an answer.
"No." Miss Connors ran a hand through her straw-colored thin hair. "I didn't think you'd respond to that one either."
"What do you want?" I asked, my eyes flat.
She seemed to consider me for a moment before she replied, "Honestly?"
I nodded, mute.
"I care about you and I think you're wasting an unfair amount of potential. You could be in college. Yes, I know that you've heard this already and I don't care. You could be the captain of track, volleyball, yearbook staff. You could have any number of prestigious scholarships if you wanted. I've read some of your essays. You have so much talent and I cannot stand the fact that you just waste it away."
"I'm living a typical teenager's life."
"A typical teenager is not rumored to screw an entire sports team."
I hadn't been aware of that one. It made me smile.
"I see." Miss Connors groaned. "You think that's funny. Granted, I've watched you around campus and I'm impressed at the amount of power you seem to hold with the other students. However, I'm not stupid." She shook her head as her bore into mine. "I know what girls have to do to earn that spot."
"Did you call me a whore?"
"What? No!" Miss Connors looked horrified and flushed. "That's not what I meant. I just..." She caught the amusement in my eyes and sighed in disappointment. With a gentled tone, she asked, "Have you heard from your parents lately?"
"No." I stood up and shook my head. I moved to the door.
"Wait. Please, Sheldon?"
"I'm not some wasted space due to negligent parents. That's not me, not who I am. I'm not going to talk to you about my hurt feelings because the last time I heard from my parents was three months ago." I left the room and walked down the hallway. Just before I opened the counselor's door that connected to the senior hallway, I stopped and heard a resigned sigh from her office.
My hand paused for a moment, but I hardened inside and left.
Chapter 8
I drove past the Café Diner and saw Bryce's car in the parking lot. Corrigan's was somewhere else. As I continued home, I sent a text to Bryce and Corrigan telling them that I had beer waiting at home.
When I got home, I removed one of the cases that was still in my car from our previous trip to the diner. I stuffed it underneath the steps leading to the connecting door. As I moved down the hallway to unlock the front door, I found a note that had been stuffed underneath the door. I opened it and read:
Whores get stoned to death. Are you the stone or whore? Or maybe you're death.
I laughed and crumpled it up. After a quick toss to the garbage, I pulled out a frozen pizza and warmed the oven. It took two minutes for the oven's pre-warm up bell to ring and as I slid the pizza in, my front door opened. Bryce and Corrigan were both laughing as they made their way inside.
"Grab the beer from my trunk," I shouted over their laughing.
Corrigan hollered, "Will do."
Logan was the first to appear around the corner. She was hesitant, but seemed to relax when she saw an easy grin on my face. I still hadn't formally met the girl, but I was determined to be in a gracious mood. There was no bitchery allowed when it was beer and pizza night.
I crossed my feet as I leaned against the corner and stared at her.
She changed her expression back to caution and edged, hesitantly, onto one of the stools.
Neither of us said a thing.
Logan stared at anything except me. Her hands also seemed to fight with each other. She'd hold them still, then they'd start trembling, and she'd jerk only to start it all over again.
When I heard footsteps jog down the stairs, I smiled to myself at her predicament. She's with a guy, one of the most popular, and thinking she's his new girlfriend. She's in his other best friend's house, who's a girl, who's known to get her jollies by taunting girls just like her. What to do?
Predicament.
A moment later, Bryce and Corrigan both walked in with a case in their arms.
Awkward silence time was done…for now.
I raised an eyebrow and murmured, "You could only handle one case?" I said it in disdain.
Corrigan wasn't affected and grinned cockily. He jumped onto the counter right in front of Logan and shot back, "I'm just conserving my energy for more pleasurable activities."
He ran a hand down the side of Logan's face and lingered at her lips.
