When the sermon began, Wayne squeezed my hand. My heart skipped, and I glanced up to see if the Ds had noticed, but just as quickly, Wayne let go and tucked his hand into the pocket of his coat. I wondered if it had been intentional or just a reflex. I felt my cheeks flare and kept my eyes diverted downward as the hybrid Matilda guilt crept over me.
I couldn’t focus on what the preacher was saying. I knew if I did, I’d end up puking in Matilda’s open grave. Instead, I went over the periodic table in my head, silently singing Tom Lehrer’s elements song. Around the sixth pass of “These are the only ones of which the news has come to Harvard,” Wayne squeezed my hand again and leaned into me.
“And there may be many others, but they haven’t been discarvard. You’re humming,” he whispered.
I let out a tiny gasp.
“I don’t think anyone else noticed.”
“Good.” I sighed and peeked up at him. He looked mildly amused but was still zeroed in on Matilda’s casket.
“Janie?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for coming today.”
“You’re welcome.”
The sermon finished up, and then the Hunts replaced the preacher behind the podium. Mr. Hunt was dressed in the same generic black suit as every other male at the funeral, but his wraparound sunglasses set him apart from the crowd. I imagined they were meant to hide his supposed tears, but they just made him look like a prick. Mrs. Hunt looked like she belonged on a cheesy movie set with her oversized veiled hat. I felt their gazes drift over to Wayne and me. A sick feeling settled in my gut. I steadied my eyes on the upper edge of the podium so I would at least look like I was paying attention and began reciting grammar rules in my head, careful not to hum this time. When two vowels go walking, the first does the talking. I before E except after C, except when you run a feisty heist on a weird beige foreign neighbor.
I let the Hunts’ words filter through my mind like the mindless buzz of the news my dad insisted on watching every morning. As an afterthought, I wondered if I should have been paying enough attention to count the number of times they mentioned their resort, just in case Chloe asked. The Hunts talked for almost half an hour. They looked like they were ready to drone on for another half an hour, but after a dozen people slipped out of the cemetery, the preacher tactfully cut them off. Before giving up the microphone, Mrs. Hunt mentioned the school assembly and requested that all “responsible and caring parents” contact her to make their donations.
The preacher said a short prayer, mindful of the restless mourners, and then a pair of men in black suits began to lower Matilda’s casket. An older woman brought around a basket of white roses to toss into the grave. Wayne took one, but I passed. It seemed like a ridiculous thing to do, throw flowers into the ground to be covered up with dirt. It was far more practical to leave them by the headstone once she was buried, but I guess they had extra flowers for that too.
The Ds tossed their roses in quickly and left, sparing a few nervous glances towards Officer Russell. Wayne waited until almost everyone had cleared out.
“Do you want some time alone?” I asked, glancing back at our parents. They were gathered near the cars, talking to a few people I didn’t recognize.
Wayne shrugged. “It’s okay. You can stay if you want.” He had said the same thing the night of the party. My heart tightened at the memory. I should have stayed. I would stay this time.
Wayne tossed his rose in and cleared his throat. “I guess this is goodbye. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.”
It wasn’t very poetic or deep, but it was heartfelt. As big of a pain as Matilda had been, Wayne had really cared about her. For a split second, I wondered if she was really as bad as I thought she was. Then I remembered the spray foam in my locker and the holes in my blouse. Yup. She was definitely evil.
Wayne didn’t take my hand again as we made our way towards our parents and the cars, but he did take his time and brushed his shoulder against mine so we could talk quietly. “I finished the makeup work you brought by, but it would probably be best to go over it tomorrow. My mom said that the teachers aren’t expecting me to turn it in until my suspension is over next week.”
I nodded. “I think I’m going to stay home tomorrow. I don’t have it in me to sit through that assembly.”
“I’m not supposed to have guests over, being grounded and all, but I doubt I’d get in much trouble if it was you.”
The blood rushed to my face. “You want me to come over tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” Wayne gave me a crooked smile. “My mom’s going to visit my aunt, and I really don’t want to be alone all day.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
It seemed innocent enough, and I knew nothing especially exciting would happen, but I felt like doing cartwheels anyway. Probably not the best idea in a cemetery. I could wait until I made it home.
Sparks
Chapter 7
My parents didn’t even ask for a reason when I requested to stay home on Wednesday. The Hunts’ speech at the funeral had made them cringe along with most of the other parents present. I could tell that they didn’t want to force me to suffer through it a second time. My appreciation made me feel slightly guilty about sneaking over to Wayne’s house.
My mom fixed pancakes. Then we watched one of the morning talk shows that came on after the news, after my dad left for Jasper First National, the bank where he was a loan consultant. My mom was wearing her pearl earrings and the kitchen was warm from the oven, so I knew she would be taking off to deliver casseroles soon. I stayed in my pajamas until she left, just so she wouldn’t suspect anything.
Once I was alone in the house, I slipped on a pair of jeans and a Pacman tee shirt that I had swiped from Wayne’s closet freshman year. I brushed my hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. I thought about putting on makeup or perfume, but it seemed a little overkill. Wayne would notice, which would be awkward, and my mom would notice too if I didn’t give myself enough time to wash it off before she got home.
Sneaking over to Wayne’s house felt entirely too risky, and it made me realize what a goody-two-shoes I really was. I made a beeline from my back door to his, hurtling over the picket fence that separated our backyards like an Olympic marathon runner. I hunched down on his back porch and knocked lightly on the screen door, knocking again when he didn’t answer right away.
“Hey.” Wayne answered the door in flannel pajama pants and a white tee shirt. He grinned at my Pacman shirt. “Come on in. You want some coffee?”
Not really. “Sure.” It couldn’t be any worse than the hospital concoction.
I followed Wayne into the kitchen and took a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. His literature book lay open on the counter with my notes spread out around it. I felt stupidly giddy that he had been reading my handwriting, even if it was only notes on the short stories we had been reading in class. The giddiness wore away once I spotted Matilda’s funeral program pinned to the bulletin board by the phone.
Wayne opened the refrigerator. “You want sugar and cream?” he asked, retrieving a bottle of fancy coffee syrup.
“Okay.” I watched him move around the kitchen as he fixed us each a cup. He wasn’t having as much trouble with his cast today, so I resisted the urge to get up and help him.
I hadn’t been in the Russell kitchen since last summer, before Matilda came along. It looked about the same; blue counters, light oak cabinets, beige tile floor. Mrs. Russell was a modest decorator. Fake ivy garland dangled from the tops of the cabinets, and an antique set of farm animal cookie jars sat against the tile backdrop. An apple pie scented candle was burning, but I could smell traces of my mom’s famous Mexican breakfast scramble over it. Everyone loved my mom’s casseroles.
I had hoped that we would be studying in Wayne’s bedroom, but at least we were alone. I wondered if he still had his Star Wars bedspread, and then I wondered if Matilda had ever been in his room. Did she sit on Chewbacca and R2D2 and put her tong
ue in his mouth? Or had she insisted that he shun his dork side to suit her superficial taste buds?
Wayne set a coffee mug in front of me and sat down behind his homework. “This paper isn’t due for a few weeks yet, but I’d like to get it finished early so I have time to do any extra credit work Ms. Simon gives out.” He scratched gently at the stitches along his forehead.
“I thought you were just failing history and algebra,” I blurted out.
Wayne winced. “My dad, huh?”
I blushed and nodded.
“I have a B in English right now. It’s not failing, but I really need to bring it up too. It’s the one class I might actually have a chance at getting an A in. If I can get an A, I might be able to convince my dad that I’m not a lost cause.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “Lay out the rest of the damage for me. How much work are we looking at here?”
Wayne blew out a long breath and frowned at me. “If I ace my history and algebra finals, I think I can bump those grades to Cs. Health is an easy B. It could have been an A, but I’ve missed too many assignments. I need to get at least a B on my biology final and an A on my last lab report in order to get a B in that class.”
I pulled a sheet of paper out of one of his notebooks and made a list of study priorities. “I’ll make up some flash cards for history, algebra, and biology. Also, I’ll proof your English paper and lab report before you turn them in. We’ll save studying for the English and health finals for later, since you don’t need as much help in those classes.”
Wayne nodded with a weak smile and rubbed his good hand over his head, carefully avoiding his stitches. “My handwriting isn’t the best since, you know.” He held up his casted right arm. “I can hold a pencil, but my fingers go numb pretty fast. The doctor said it might be a couple weeks before the strength comes back in my grip.”
“Typing suck too?”
“Oh yeah,” he laughed.
“I’ll type your English paper after you write it up. Don’t worry about making it pretty. I’ve been able to read your chicken scratch since first grade.” I smiled, remembering the notes we got in trouble over for passing in class.
My breath caught as Wayne wrapped his arms around my shoulders. “Thank you, Janie. You’re a lifesaver.” My nose brushed against his ear and I tensed in his arms, awkwardly hugging him back while my body temperature spiked a hundred degrees. The hug wouldn’t have been so strange six months ago, but as trite as it may sound, absence makes the heart grow fonder.
“No problem, Batman.” I said, trying to lighten the mood and keep myself from doing anything too incredibly stupid, like laying a kiss on his warm neck that was pressed up against mine. “We should get to work.”
“Yeah.” Wayne pulled away from me with red cheeks. He cleared his throat and looked back down at my notes. “Wow. There’s a lot to catch up on.”
I patted his shoulder. “We’ll get you there.”
The morning dragged on into the afternoon without any more awkward moments. We knuckled down and tackled Wayne’s makeup work like the fate of the universe depended on us. I was more than a little stunned by how far he had fallen behind, but I guess tending to the Hun took up a lot of his time.
From what I knew, Matilda had marginally decent grades. Of course, she had also cheated her tail off. She’d only been caught once that I knew of, and the story was that her parents made a fat donation, and the threat of suspension disappeared. I was surprised that she hadn’t required Wayne to maintain a C average in order to date her, but then again, Wayne probably didn’t have as much experience at fudging grades as she did.
Around one o’clock, Officer Russell came home for lunch. Wayne and I were so engrossed in algebraic formulas that we didn’t even hear him come in through the garage.
“Playing hooky, Miss Parker?”
I jumped and nearly fell off my barstool. “No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. My parents know. I mean, they know I’m not at school, but not that I’m helping Wayne with his homework. I would have asked, but my mom left early, and—”
“It’s okay, Janie,” he cut me off before I could shove my foot any further into my mouth. “I’m glad you’re helping Wayne. He should have asked before inviting you over.” He raised an eyebrow at Wayne. “But since you’re in the kitchen and obviously doing schoolwork, I’ll let it slide.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a leftover casserole. “Have you kids eaten lunch yet?”
“No, sir,” Wayne answered.
Officer Russell peeled the foil off the casserole and popped it in the microwave. “Good. You can help me finish this off. Then Janie can have the dish to give back to her mother.”
I was ready to bolt, but Wayne didn’t look like he was ready to be alone with his dad again. I couldn’t blame him. They engaged in uncomfortable small talk, probably for my benefit, while I picked at my plate in silence.
My brain danced around in panic mode every time I was near Officer Russell. I tried not to think about the party, but then my mind slipped off to even grimmer corners. I began to wonder how many meals Matilda had shared with Wayne’s family. I knew his dad wasn’t very fond of her. Had his mom liked her? Did they do things together, like get their nails and hair done? Had they invited Matilda over for Thanksgiving? Did they take her to the family reunion?
“You’re awfully quiet, Janie.” Officer Russell watched me with a puzzled look, and I realized I was frowning.
“Sorry.” I smiled and took a bite of casserole. “Just trying to remember if I missed a quiz in algebra today.”
“I appreciate you helping Wayne, but don’t let your own grades slip in the process. Wayne got himself into this mess, and you shouldn’t have to pay for it.”
Wayne’s ears turned pink and he looked down at his plate.
“It’s no problem, really,” I assured him. “Ms. Powell’s quizzes aren’t worth many points, and she lets us make them up if we miss class.”
We sat through another five minutes of uncomfortable silence before Officer Russell wiped the crumbs from his graying mustache and stood to take his plate to the sink. He rinsed out the casserole dish and set it on the counter. “Wayne, your mother will be back from your aunt’s house soon. Let her know that I’m taking an extra shift tonight. I have a heavy list of parents and students to interview still about the Hunt case.”
My mouth went dry. Wayne hadn’t told me there was an ongoing investigation. I should have paid more attention to the speech at the funeral. I had assumed that the Hunts were just rattling on about Matilda and the dangers of teen drinking. I hadn’t realized that they were trying to bring everyone involved with the party to justice. It looked like more suspensions and scholarship penalties might be in the near future. My mom’s casserole soured in my stomach as I wondered if my name would be on the list.
“Keep up the good work, kids,” Officer Russell said, heading back out through the garage.
I held my breath, waiting for the sound of his patrol car to fade down the street before I turned to Wayne. “Has anyone else been busted for the party yet?”
Wayne shrugged. “Not that I know of. Dad is pretty tight-lipped about it. I think they’re mostly trying to nail whoever provided the alcohol.”
“Well, I might have a heart attack before your dad figures out that I was there. I should probably just tell him and get it over with.”
“No!” Wayne bolted out of his chair. “Janie, you were there for five minutes and you didn’t drink anything. You would be throwing yourself to the wolves for nothing. No one else is going to come forward, and even if someone rats them out, they won’t get in trouble, because it can’t be proved, and it’s too late to test them for alcohol. It would be pointless for you to fess up, and to top it off, you’d be suspended and bullied for the rest of our senior year for being a snitch. It’s not worth it. Please, don’t.”
“Okay. Okay.” I chewed my bottom lip. “Heart attack it is.”
Wayne sighed and sat back down, cradling his head in his ha
nds. “You’re probably the only person my dad will allow me to hang out with until graduation, unless you get in trouble too. So there’s also that.”
“I said okay.” I wanted to be glad that Wayne was so worried about me getting in trouble, but part of me knew that he was also looking out for the superficial drones he called his friends because of Matilda.
The hum of my mom’s car pulling into the driveway reignited my panic. “Gotta go! See you after school tomorrow.” I darted out the back door, vaulted over the fence, and slipped inside my house just in time to get caught by my mom as she came in through the garage.
“Janie.” She jumped. “You startled me. What were you doing outside?”
“I was helping Wayne with his homework,” I said, trying to brush it off like it was no big deal.
“Oh?” She looked confused. “You know Wayne’s grounded. He’s probably not supposed to have guests over, especially when his parents aren’t home.”
I shrugged. “Officer Russell stopped by to have lunch. He didn’t seem to mind.”
My mom’s frown deepened as she slipped off her high heels and coat. “Why didn’t you say anything about going over to visit him this morning?”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled and rolled my eyes. “It just skipped my mind, I guess.”
“I know you’re going to be eighteen next year, and I probably just need to lighten up. I guess I just thought you would ask, since you always have before. Your father and I have never had to worry about you, Janie. You’re such a good kid.” She smiled and reached up to touch my chin.
My stomach turned into a rock every time they mentioned what a “good kid” I was. Ever since the party, I didn’t feel like a good kid anymore. I felt more and more rotten every day that I didn’t tell them about the party, and I had a bad feeling that it was going to get worse before it got better.
Crazy Ex-Ghoulfriend Page 4