Falling Over Sideways

by Jordan Sonnenblick

  “So,” the principal said in a surprisingly cheerful voice, “we all had a bit of a scare yesterday. Maybe things got a little heated, maybe people said some things they might regret now that things have calmed down a bit. Personally, I’m just glad we’re all safe. Anyone want a candy cane?”

  Then he actually pushed the bowl of candy canes around the table to each of us. I took one—even though my orthodontist would have killed me—because my orthodontist was way across town, wasn’t about to interrogate me, and didn’t hold life-or-death power over my cell phone at the moment.

  Next, he sat back, laced his fingers over the middle of his belly, and said, “So. Tell me about this misunderstanding in your science classroom yesterday.”

  First, Leigh said, “I don’t know anything. I was just sitting there filing my nails the whole time.”

  “Really?” Mr. Thompson asked.

  “Really.”

  “That’s interesting, because the lockdown lasted over an hour. You’d think your fingers would be filed down to about the second knuckle by now. Not to mention the difficulty of doing manicure work in the dark. Hmm. Let’s hear from someone else. You’re Christopher, right?”

  Christopher said, “Yes.”

  “Can you tell me what happened yesterday?”

  “Yes, I can,” Christopher said. Then he just sat there.

  Mr. Thompson sighed. “Christopher,” he said, “please tell me what happened yesterday.”

  “All right. I woke up at seven nineteen a.m. I knew it would be a bad day then, because seven and nineteen are both prime numbers. Then I got up and went into the bathroom. I splashed water on my face, because my eyes felt somewhat crusty and—”

  “Christopher,” Mr. Thompson said, “please tell me what happened in science class yesterday after the lights went off. I am especially interested in what was said between your group and Mrs. Selinsky.”

  “I was patting Claire. Claire is my friend. She is nice to me. Other children are not always nice to me. Claire was crying, because her father is in the hospital. Her brother kept sending her texts about his condition, and that made Mrs. Selinsky yell. Mrs. Selinsky said, ‘Phone. Now.’ Then Ryder said, ‘You don’t understand. This is a real emergency. Please don’t take Claire’s phone. Her father is in the emergency room. He’s about to go into surgery.’ But Mrs. Selinsky said, ‘Rules are rules.’ I did not understand why she said that, because of course rules are rules. What else would rules be? They are not cats or cheeses.”

  Mr. Thompson sighed again, then said, “Continue.”

  “Ryder said, ‘Take my phone instead of Claire’s,’ or something like that. I was not exactly sure, because I was still trying to understand that part about rules are rules. Then he asked Mrs. Selinsky how she would have liked it if a teacher had taken away Meredith’s phone in an emergency. Meredith is Mrs. Selinsky’s daughter. My mother says Mrs. Selinsky should stop blabbing about her daughter and start teaching us some science. Then Mrs. Selinsky said, ‘How DARE you bring up my daughter to me? Don’t you ever mention her name again.’ I was frightened, because Mrs. Selinsky looked like the Grinch. The Grinch makes me cry. When I was little, I used to wet my pants when he came on the television screen, but then my mother explained that he was just a character. Mrs. Selinsky is scarier, because she is real.”

  “And then?”

  A shadow fell over the table. Mrs. Selinsky had appeared in the doorway. I wondered whether she had been standing outside for a while, listening.

  “Then Claire’s phone lit up again. And Mrs. Selinsky took it. And Claire reached out. And Mrs. Selinsky slapped her. Teachers are not supposed to slap students. That is a rule!”

  “And then?”

  “And then Regina Chavez yelled, ‘Hey, give her the phone back, you crazy BEEP!’ ” Like Regina, Christopher didn’t really say BEEP.

  Everybody sat there in total silence for long enough that I could hear Christopher panting. He sounded almost as bad as my father. I wanted to reach out and touch his hand, but I was afraid that might make him scream. I had never realized how terrified he must have been at school, so much of the time.

  Finally, Mr. Thompson turned to me, and said, “Claire, is this true?”

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s true. Mrs. Selinsky is a crazy BEEP.”

  But I didn’t actually say BEEP, either.

  “Young lady, do you understand the seriousness of this situation?” Mr. Thompson asked.

  I had a moment of incredible, skin-prickling panic.

  Then Leigh, who had sat through this entire meeting like a statue with her arms crossed, suddenly leaned forward and interjected, “Sir, would you say Claire’s situation is more or less serious than Mrs. Selinsky’s? I mean, we’re talking about a kid who said a bad word, versus a teacher who went crazy screaming and yelling during a supposedly silent shelter-in-place emergency, and then smacked a child in front of a roomful of witnesses. I’m no lawyer, but I’d have to bet Mrs. S is actually in more trouble than Claire is. If I were the two of you, I’d give back Claire’s phone, let us all go back to class right now, and never say another thing about this. By the way, I said I’m no lawyer, but do you know who is? My father. So anyway, those are my thoughts.”

  “Well, umm … Mrs. Selinsky, what are your thoughts? Maybe we could all sit down and come to some kind of agreement. Perhaps a behavioral contract for these students, in exchange for not putting any consequences in place right now?”

  Mrs. Selinsky nodded, very slightly. She looked like she wanted to choke each of us, though.

  Slowly.

  “But wait,” Regina said. “This lady slapped Claire. Now she’s just going to get away with it?”

  Mr. Thompson’s fists clenched, and for a moment, it appeared we might see another round of student abuse, but then he relaxed his hands and said, “Mrs. Selinsky, will you excuse us for a moment? I just want to have a private chat with these students about their attitudes. Then maybe their behavior in your class will turn in a positive direction.”

  “But—”

  “Please trust me.”

  Mrs. Selinsky stormed out, and Mr. Thompson let all the air out of his lungs with a huge, whistling sigh. “You know, kids, that woman has been on the faculty of this school since I was a student here. She opened this building thirty-two years ago. She won the very first Teacher of the Year award here, and she’s won the most awards of any educator in the history of the school. When she retires at the end of this year, I will be far from the only person crying at the dinner.

  “Now, I know what you’re going to say, because I have heard it all before from other students and parents over the past two years. ‘She yells at us! She isn’t nice! She’s scary! She’s always comparing us to her perfect daughter, Meredith!’ ”

  I looked around the table, and everybody was leaning forward and nodding. This was weird. It was like a teacher was telling us the truth.

  “But here’s the part you don’t know. Meredith really was a pretty amazing girl. She was in my graduating class. Oh, we all loved her. She did everything well—she was the drum major in marching band, the captain of the girls’ tennis team, homecoming queen, third in our class. And so kind and thoughtful.

  “Meredith went away to college, and had some stupid argument with her mother about curfew while she was home on break. One thing led to another, and they stopped speaking. Meredith never came home again. Oh, it broke her mother’s heart. Mrs. Selinsky never let any of that affect her work here, though. She kept track of Meredith’s life from a distance—I think she always hoped for a second chance. I know Meredith got married, got divorced, got remarried—and then, two and a half years ago, she was diagnosed with liver cancer.”

  Now we were all leaning super-far forward, with our bottom jaws hanging down. It must have looked like we were waiting for Mr. Thompson to start throwing popcorn into our mouths.

  “So then what happened?” Ryder asked.

  “Then she died.”

 
“Did Mrs. Selinsky get to say good-bye?” I asked.

  Mr. Thompson raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been in her class all year. What do you think?”

  “Umm, no?”

  “Umm, no. So maybe now you might be a little bit more understanding of Mrs. Selinsky’s … temperament. Her situation isn’t the easiest. So no, she shouldn’t have yelled at you, and she probably went a little overboard with the phones. And she definitely should not have hit your hand, Claire—if that is indeed what she meant to do. But it also sounds as though a few of you might do well to check your attitudes at the door. Do you think you can do that? I would consider it a personal favor. And I never forget a personal favor.

  “Now. Leigh?”

  “I didn’t even do anything!”

  “Leigh!”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Thank you. Regina?”

  “Yes.”

  “Claire?”

  “Yes. And may I please have my phone back? I really do need it, because my father really is in the hospital.”

  “We can make that happen. Give me a couple of periods. Now the rest of you can go. I just need another moment with Claire.”

  The other four got out of there so fast, it was like the seats had an ejector function.

  Then I sat there, trying hard not to bite my nails. It was the first time I had ever been alone in a room with a principal before. He was really big. And kind of hairy. Plus, his toupee was hideous. The situation was awkward in the extreme.

  “Claire,” he said finally.

  “Yes, Mr. Thompson?”

  “You aren’t going to use language like that in my building anymore, are you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good. Now, about your father. Is there anything we can do to make your life easier right now? Would it help if your teachers got your assignments together ahead of time in case things suddenly come up at home? Or would you like the counselor to check in on you?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “You know, I read two of your dad’s books with my younger son. I cried like a baby when the hamster died in Cat in the Box. I’m really sorry for what you and your family must be going through.”

  “Uh, I appreciate that.”

  “Just please try to remember that we in this school are a family, too. We’re here to help each other out, okay?”

  I nodded, and he sent me back to class.

  Regina was waiting for me in the hall. “Hey, Starbuck, are you going to die?”

  “Nah, they’re letting me live.”

  “That’s good,” she said, with an odd look on her face. “I don’t know how Ryder would survive if he didn’t have you around.”

  “Uh, yeah. Well. Thanks for waiting for me.”

  “Thanks for having my back in there.”

  “Thanks for trying to get between me and Selinsky yesterday.”

  “Starbuck, sometimes you are so dumb. I didn’t do that for you.”

  And it hit me: Mrs. Selinsky had been about to take her anger out on Ryder right before Regina stepped in. “You did it for Ryder.”

  “You’re a little slow, but you got there eventually.”

  “Wow, you really like him.”

  “Ah, shut up.”

  “No, I’m not making fun of you. I’m serious.”

  “Well, then, yeah. But he likes you, Starbuck.”

  “Are you crazy? He’s hated me since, like, the third day of band camp in sixth grade. He follows me around everywhere I go just so he can make my life miserable. He never leaves me alone. He—oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.”

  “But I don’t like him. No offense or anything. I don’t mean I don’t like him. I mean I don’t like like him. I just … back in sixth grade I just wanted to stay friends with him. And then, all of a sudden, he woke up one day hating me. I don’t suppose you have any idea why?”

  Regina started walking down the hall. Over her shoulder, she said, “Why don’t you ask him?”

  “Okay, I will!”

  “Good!”

  “Okay, then!”

  Just before she turned the corner and disappeared, she said, “By the way, don’t think this makes us friends or anything, Starbuck!”

  Which was a relief. It was bad enough finding out that Mrs. Selinsky and my school principal were both secretly human. Becoming friends with Regina on the same day might have snapped my mind completely.

  I stopped at the bathroom to splash some water on my face. Mostly, I just needed the time alone, though. When I walked in, I was relieved to see there was nobody at the sinks. The water felt good and cold against my skin, a feeling that was worth the disgusting smell of the school paper towels. As I was patting my face dry, Leigh sort of exploded out of the corner stall, causing the metal door to bang against the wall tiles. I felt like I jumped about a foot, which made Leigh smile.

  But when I looked at her face, her ever-present makeup was smudged, as though she had been crying. I only got a quick glimpse, though, because she immediately wet a paper towel and started scrubbing violently at her eye area.

  Well, this was awkward. On the one hand, she was, like, the evil spider girl at the center of my school’s web of cruelty and mockery. On the other, she had just stood up for me with the principal. I stood there like a moron, trying to think of something semi-friendly to say that she couldn’t throw back in my face immediately or use against me later.

  But faster than you can say, “Hey, I love your boots,” Leigh’s eyes flashed in my direction. She grinned as though everything was perfectly normal, and said, “Well, that was fun. Did you see the look on Selinsky’s face when I said my dad was a lawyer? Wow. Good times.”

  Then she grabbed a wad of dry paper towels, patted her face with them, and strode past me as she flung them over her shoulder in the general direction of the trash can. She missed by about a foot and a half, but by the time the towels hit the floor, the bathroom door was already swinging shut behind her.

  I would almost have believed her “good times” act, except that she had just walked out into a public space without makeup. Leigh without makeup was like a math teacher without a calculator, a Disney princess without huge eyes, a knight without shining armor.

  A viper without fangs.

  I didn’t have the time or energy to stand there and analyze Leigh’s issues, though, because (A) I was now ten minutes later than the time on my hall pass, and (B) Leigh was pretty far down my list of people to worry about.

  At lunch, two remarkable things happened. First, Mr. Thompson came out of nowhere, reached over my shoulder, and gently placed my phone on the table in front of me, between my PB&J and my vanilla milk. I was like, Wow. That was fast. Also, I had no idea this man knew where the cafeteria was.

  “Thank you, Mr. Thompson,” I managed to stammer.

  “You’re welcome. Now, Claire, remember what we talked about, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Okay.”

  “Remember,” he said again, in this spooky “Use the Force, Luke” kind of dramatic whisper. Then he winked and started to turn away. I was like, Blech! The principal just winked at me. Does he think we’re bonding now?

  Regina said, “Wait, Mr. Thompson! You want some Skittles?”

  He did. She poured, like, half the pack into his hand.

  “Thanks! I love these!” he exclaimed in a burst of refreshingly fruit-flavored joy.

  “Absolutely no problem, sir. ’Cause they’re Star—uh, Claire’s.”

  “I kind of like you, Chavez,” Mr. Thompson said. “I’m going to be watching you and your friends like a hawk from now until June, but still. I admire your spunk.”

  After he walked away, Ryder said, “I admire your spunk!” and then cracked up.

  “Remember,” Regina replied, before bursting into giggles herself.

  “What just happened?” Roshni asked. “Am I crazy, or did our principal just walk up to our lunch table and hand deliver your phon
e to you?”

  “Um, both?” Ryder said.

  Roshni shot a rude gesture in his direction.

  “Uh, our meeting in the office was pretty … um … interesting. A lot of stuff happened. And now, I guess, well, Mr. Thompson told us some things, sooooo … ”

  Regina waved her hand to cut me off. “What Starbuck is trying to say is that T and us are tight now.”

  Roshni said, “Huh. How ’bout Christopher and Leigh?”

  “Nah, they ain’t tight. That’s all right, though. I don’t think Christopher is really looking for a relationship right now.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “Christopher was never in trouble in the first place,” I said. “I think he was more of a witness. Leigh wasn’t exactly in trouble at first, but then she went off on Mrs. Selinsky. It was kind of rude and also kind of awesome.”

  “Aw, you know I hate that girl,” Regina said, “but it was crazy awesome. She was like, ‘Don’t even make me bring my lawyer army down here.’ ”

  “Yeah,” I said, “that’s pretty much how it went.”

  “So what’s supposed to happen with Mrs. Selinsky now?”

  “We’re going to be nice to her,” I said.

  “WHAT? After what she did yesterday? After what she’s done all year?”

  “Woman’s been through some stuff,” Regina said.

  “I’m serious,” Ryder said.

  “And, hey, June’s still six months away. A truce might be kind of nice, right? I know I could use some peace and quiet in my life,” I added.

  Just then the table rattled and my phone lit up.

  The text from my mom was very simple:

  Your father is talking!!!

  I wrote back:

  You mean he’s breathing better and saying some words?

  Her next message said:

  I mean he is talking. The doctors think it might be an effect of the oxygen, or maybe the steroids he is on unswelled something in his brain. Anyway, really talking. Sentences. Grandma is coming to get you.