November Blues

by Sharon M. Draper

  “They do?” Jericho was amazed.

  “Yeah, sometimes after our practice in the gym, we went over to the football field and watched you guys work out.”

  “I didn’t even know you were a cheerleader,” he told her.

  “It seemed like the right thing to do for my senior year. It’s fun, plus it will look good on my college résumé.”

  “So, uh, the cheerleaders go to every game?” Jericho hated to sound dumb, but he’d never paid much attention to the cheerleaders when he was in the band. They were just a bunch of girls with pom-poms who giggled on the bus and wiggled on the field.

  “Ooh, yes! I’m really charged about the game with Excelsior! I hear their cheerleaders wear uniforms that glow in the dark!”

  Everything was starting to sink in. “So you’ll be going with us to Cleveland for that game?”

  “Absolutely. I’m going to cheer for the team, but mostly I’ll be there to support you, Jericho.”

  He honestly didn’t know what to say. “Why?”

  “Because I gave up a diamond in the rough, and I’m ready to show him how to shine like a jewel.”

  “Girl, you talkin’ a bunch of mess.”

  She laughed. “Just give me a chance, okay? No strings. No promises. I’ll see you at school Monday.”

  She hung up and Jericho sat there on the edge of his bed for several moments, looking at the phone screen, which glowed for a short while, then dulled as the line went dead. He finally went and put the phone back on the charger, but he didn’t go back to bed right away. He stared at the late summer moon outside. Everything looked shimmery and unusually bright. The white lawn furniture in the backyard, reflecting the moonlight, seemed to glow like something out of an old science fiction movie. He knew it wasn’t real. He wondered if he could trust anything anymore.

  CHAPTER 34

  NOVEMBER

  MONDAY, AUGUST 30

  NOVEMBER SAT IN HER MOTHER’S CAR IN the school parking lot, her hand on the door. Students getting off buses and out of cars streamed past them, laughing and calling to one another in first-day enthusiasm. None of the girls, dressed in the latest short skirts, tight jeans, and funky tops, noticed the trembling teenager sitting in the battered Ford.

  “I can’t go in there, Mom.”

  “We’ve talked about this all summer, November. You could have chosen to go to Rafiki, you know.”

  “A special school full of pregnant girls who sleep around? That’s not me, Mom. I’m not like them. I really am a good girl.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “You’re just as pregnant as they are,” Mrs. Nelson said gently.

  “I know, I know. I just didn’t think it would be this hard to go in there.” She wore a loose yellow T-shirt and a pair of jeans that were two sizes larger than she usually wore. At seven months, November had gained over twenty-five pounds already—way too much, Dr. Holland had told her—and she still had trouble with the swelling of her legs, ankles, and wrists. She felt like an elephant.

  “Do you want to go back home?” her mother asked. “There’s still time to enroll you in Rafiki. You’ll only make it through first quarter, anyway. Then you’ll probably be out until at least after Christmas.”

  “Do you think I can still graduate on time?” asked November bleakly.

  “Your guidance counselor seems to think you can make up what you miss in summer school and still get your diploma this year. And you can still plan for college, you know, if…”

  “If I sell my baby to the Prescotts,” November finished for her, fire in her voice.

  “Quit saying that! It would be a legal adoption. You can’t keep putting off this decision, you know. Time is running out.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it! Get off my case!” November’s back was aching, and she really had to go to the bathroom. “Hey, I see Olivia, Dana, and Kofi walking this way. I’m going in with them.”

  Mrs. Nelson let the subject drop for the moment. “Okay, okay! But this isn’t going away. I’ll pick you up at three after my school gets out. Have a good day.”

  “Bye, Mom. I’m sorry. It seems like my feelings are like clothes tumbling in a dryer. Everything comes out upside down.” Her mom gave her a quick hug, and she got out of the car reluctantly.

  She called to Dana, who was dressed in soft, light blue Ultrasuede jeans and a jacket that seemed to hug her body as she walked. Her shoes, her purse, even her nail polish were color-coordinated in various shades of silvery blue. November noticed that boys stopped in their tracks and turned completely around just to gawk at Dana, but she pretended to be unaware of them. Kofi noticed, however. He glared at any male whose eyes lingered too long, until they gave him the head nod and moved on.

  Olivia, who looked like she had lost a few pounds, wore a crisp white and red Douglass T-shirt, khaki slacks, and the new pair of Nikes she’d bought when they’d all gone shopping. Her hair had been freshly braided in a really attractive style, with short, curly extensions that complemented her high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. She waved happily at November.

  As her mom drove off, November looked once again with dismay at the imposing face of the school. She was really glad to have friends to walk with.

  “So what’s up, little mama?” Dana asked as they headed across the parking lot. Kofi had to set up the computers in the lab, so he had hurried into the building before the doors opened.

  “Big mama is more like it. I’m feeling pretty huge these days.”

  “You make me look good,” Olivia teased. “Seriously, are you feeling okay?”

  “Not really. But I’ll make it.” They walked up the worn stone steps and stood near the front door, waiting for the bell to ring. November couldn’t help but overhear the comments of some of the girls standing nearby, who made no effort to stifle their words.

  “Ooh, girl, she big as a house!”

  “You just be hatin’.”

  “That’s a messed-up way to start senior year.”

  “Don’t make no difference. I had my baby and was back in two weeks,” said a girl named Chiquita, whose fingernails, painted red and black, were so long they curled.

  “She’ll be back in shape by prom time.”

  “Probably get pregnant again by then.”

  “Not by Josh Prescott!” They had the nerve to laugh.

  “Josh her baby’s daddy?”

  “That’s what they say.” Chiquita adjusted the earphones on her iPod.

  November looked down at the ground and walked faster. But Dana, who had been watching the girls with increasing fury, was not so willing to pretend they didn’t hear them. She marched over to where Chiquita stood, ripped the earphones out of the girl’s ears, and shouted, “I heard you don’t even know your baby daddy’s name!” she said angrily.

  “Don’t be gettin’ salty with me, girlfriend,” Chiquita warned. But she didn’t seem willing to fight.

  “You just learn how to keep your mouth shut about stuff you know nothing about!” Dana said, stepping closer as Chiquita stepped back. Olivia stood right behind her, eyes narrowed with menace.

  “I got business to tend to,” said Chiquita. “Get out of my way.” She and her friends hurried down the steps and around to the back door.

  November breathed a sigh of relief. “You didn’t have to do that, but thanks, Dana. And I didn’t know you had it in you, Olivia.”

  “Me neither,” Olivia admitted with a grin. “But I had your back, Dana. I was ready to go at it with you if she tried anything. All I had to do was sit on her!”

  Dana laughed. “I knew there wouldn’t be a fight. Girls like that are all mouth, no guts. Besides, you think I’d get in a fight and mess up this outfit? You know how much my mama paid for this stuff?”

  The bell rang and the three girls filed into the noisy confusion of the first day of school. Teachers stood in the hall, directing the new ninth graders and answering questions. Everyone seemed to be talking at once—greeting old friends, laughing too loudly
, showing off new threads and kicks.

  Nobody seemed to pay any attention at all to the framed picture of Josh that still hung in the hallway, November noticed.

  The seniors were especially vocal. About twenty senior boys, Jericho and Kofi and Eric Bell in his wheelchair among them, stood in the middle of the main hall, blocking traffic and shouting as loudly as they could, “PANTHER PRIDE! SENIORS RULE! PANTHER PRIDE! SENIORS RULE!” Jack Krazinski, who had positioned himself right next to them, exploded his cymbals after every cheer. The noise was deafening.

  A couple of the teachers, used to this kind of first-day foolishness, shushed them all and shooed them out of the hall. The boys good-naturedly broke up their impromptu pep rally.

  Jack gave his cymbals one last clashing gong as he passed by, bowing to Olivia and giving Dana and November a polite nod.

  “That boy really is crazy!” said Dana, shaking her head.

  “Maybe not. You know what he calls it each time he clangs those two things together?” Olivia asked.

  “What?”

  “‘A short splash of color in a dark gray world,’” Olivia told them. “Little kids use crayons. Jack uses sound.”

  “And high schools use the public address system. Is it just me, or is everything really loud and annoying today?” November asked.

  Every few minutes the principal blurted out new announcements through the PA at the highest possible volume, so his broadcasts were always accompanied by the screech and hiss of distortion.

  “All ninth graders without a schedule are to report to the gym.”

  “If anyone has found the purple binder with the locker assignments, please bring it to room 201.”

  “Attendance forms can be found in the main office. Make sure they are filled out in triplicate.”

  “Tickets for the football game with Excelsior Academy are on sale in the athletic office. If you plan to ride with us on the school bus, you must bring your permission slip by Wednesday.”

  November, for the first time since kindergarten, felt overwhelmed. Ordinarily she loved the smell of the first day of school—the freshly waxed hall floors, the newly painted walls (at least in the main hall where visitors entered), even the smell of food emanating from the cafeteria. But today was different.

  Everything looked as if it had been prepared for everyone else except for her. She glanced at the notices on the bulletin board.

  TRY OUT FOR THE SWIM TEAM TODAY!

  SIGN UP FOR THE FUN RUN AND HELP THE HOMELESS SHELTER!

  WANT TO LEARN GYMNASTICS? COME TO ROOM 444 AFTER SCHOOL.

  Nothing applied to her any longer. I can’t run or jump or tumble or swim, she thought miserably. And all these activities seem so, I don’t know, kinda childish. All of a sudden all the kids around me seem to be immature, with no real sense of responsibility or worry. Like kids. I guess they are. She shook the thought away.

  To Dana she asked, “So what’s your first class? I got English.”

  Dana checked her schedule. “Yep, Senior English. Oh, no, it’s Ms. Hathaway,” she moaned. “That woman is a real dinosaur.”

  “What about you, Olivia?”

  “Me too. English Lit. Piece of cake!”

  “That’s because you spent the summer working at the downtown library, reading,” November said.

  “Hey, the rest of the time I was sweatin’ out there with the marching band, don’t forget.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. I spent the summer watching the wallpaper peel and my waistline disappear. Boring.” November shifted her book bag. “I talked to Jericho last night, and he told me he had Hathaway too.”

  Olivia looked up, interested.

  “He’s got her in the afternoon, though. He’s not in the morning class with us,” November explained. She glanced over at Olivia, who began digging intently in her book bag.

  “So what’s up with you and Jericho?” Dana asked Olivia with a smile. “Somebody told me he gave you a ride home a lot this summer.”

  Olivia blushed furiously, her coffee brown face suddenly a ruddy cinnamon. “It’s no big deal. My house was on the way and he offered me a ride. I even paid him for his gas,” she added.

  “You’re not acting like it’s no big deal,” teased November gently.

  “There’s no way a cool dude like Jericho would think about a girl like me,” Olivia said as she stooped down to brush some dirt off her new shoes. “He’s got a reputation to think of. I’m not even on his radar screen.”

  “You’ve got to stop coming down on yourself,” said Dana. “Jericho picks his friends for who they are on the inside, not superficial stuff. He’s deep.”

  “You think?”

  “I know.”

  Olivia looked unsure. “Well, there’s the warning bell.” The crowds in the halls had begun to thin and the halls regained a bit of their echo.

  Just as the three of them headed up the stairs to English, they heard a girl’s artificial giggle—that laugh that women save for when they’re with a man they want to impress—followed by a deep male laugh, hearty and pleased. All three girls turned to see who it was.

  Walking up the steps, his eyes focused on the girl beside him, was Jericho. Arielle, dressed in a skirt short enough and tight enough to make stair-climbing not a very good idea, walked beside him, holding his hand possessively and looking up at him as if he were the last chocolate doughnut in the box.

  CHAPTER 35

  MONDAY, AUGUST 30

  OLIVIA, HER FACE A MASK OF HUMILIATION, covered her mouth with her hand and ran up the rest of the stairs, leaving November and Dana behind.

  Jericho saw the coming confrontation, made what was obviously an instant decision, and said quickly, “I’m late—I gotta get to class. I’ll check you all out later. I’ll call you tonight, Arielle.” He hurried back down the stairs and disappeared.

  November paused on the landing, glad for an excuse to rest, and waited for Arielle to catch up with them. Dana looked as if she wasn’t sure whether to follow Olivia and check on her, or confront Arielle instead. She chose to stay.

  “What’s up, Arielle?” Dana said coolly.

  “Oh, hey, Dana. Nice hookup,” Arielle commented. “You got it goin’ on with that Ultrasuede.”

  “I wish I could say the same for you,” replied Dana. “Could that shirt and skirt be any tighter?”

  “You just jealous ’cause I got a killer body, and you look like a telephone pole in your clothes.” She laughed and checked her fingernails. The late bell had rung, and the halls were empty. The three girls stood alone in the stairwell. “I suppose I should say that you look nice too, November,” Arielle added weakly. “You sure got big quick!”

  Ignoring her comment, November said, “I didn’t know you and Jericho were back together.”

  “We’re just friends—for now,” said Arielle as she adjusted her big gold belt. “Since I’m a cheerleader, and he’s on the football team, it just makes sense, don’t you think?”

  “To you, maybe. What do you do—find the flavor of the month to go out with, Arielle?” November asked.

  “At least I can get a dude,” Arielle shot back. “You look like a whale.”

  November wanted to smack her, but she just clenched her fists and her jaw tightly. “What does he see in you?” she asked, almost to herself.

  “Opportunity!” replied Arielle with a toss of her curls.

  “I haven’t forgotten what you did to Olivia,” Dana said, her voice low with warning.

  “Oh, the fat girl?” She rolled her eyes. “Forget about that duck. People like that aren’t worth worrying about.”

  “That girl is a friend of mine, and I’m warning you—you better worry. Payback is coming.”

  “Like I care!” Arielle smoothed her tiny, tight skirt and headed on up the steps. “Don’t be tryin’ to get between me and Jericho,” she warned as she left. “I plan to take good care of him.”

  November and Dana, both bristling with irritation, shook their heads and h
eaded on up the stairs, quite late, to class.

  CHAPTER 36

  MONDAY, AUGUST 30

  NOVEMBER DREADED THE CLASS THEY HURRIED to. Most of their teachers were pretty cool—they understood the silliness of teenagers and were willing to bend the rules a little. But Ms. Hathaway had a long reputation of never budging an inch. Josh used to say she had a steel rod stuck up her backside.

  “How long has Hathaway been at Douglass?” November asked Dana.

  “Longer than recorded time,” Dana answered. “I hear she gives homework every single day of the year, including weekends, and detentions for being late—even on the first day.”

  “Well, as long as we’re gonna get in trouble, let’s make it worth it. I gotta go to the bathroom,” said November.

  “Remember last year when it snowed so bad, and they canceled the buses?” Dana asked as they headed to the restroom.

  “Yeah! They didn’t cancel school that day, just the buses. Teachers were supposed to come in, but most of them couldn’t get out of their driveways. Even the principal stayed home. And hardly any kids showed up—it was like a free day. Me and Josh spent the day building a snowman,” November said, remembering.

  “Well, Hathaway showed up that day.”

  “For real?”

  “Not only did she show up, but she gave a failing grade for the day to every kid who stayed home—more than ninety percent of her students.” Dana looked at herself in the mirror and dabbed a bit of mascara on each eyelash.

  “How can she get away with stuff like that?” November asked as she washed her hands.

  “They can’t fire her. They just keep hoping she’ll retire, but she never does.”

  “I hear she’s a really good teacher if you follow all her rules. Did you remember to get the red notebook? It can’t be pink or purple—must be bright red.”

  “Yeah, I got one. The woman’s got issues!” Dana touched up her lipstick next.

  “Why does she stick around? It’s obvious she hates kids.” November looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. She looked awful. Not even mascara and lipstick will help this, she thought as her swollen face looked back at her.