The Year of the Great Seventh

by Orts, Teresa

  Suddenly, a chuckle escaped, making me realize I hadn’t shared a single smile in weeks.

  “What’s so funny?” Emma asked, unplugging the headphone from her ear.

  “Nothing,” I said, going back to my homework, but I couldn’t hold it and giggled again.

  “Sophie, what’s up? You’re starting to freak me out,” Emma joked, but meant each word.

  “You’ve been all depressed the last few weeks. You haven’t said a word. And now you’re laughing for no apparent reason.” Emma complained, her eyes twinkling.

  I wasn’t sure whether she was being serious with her accusation, but I had to confess that I hadn’t been too discreet about my blues.

  “Leave her alone.” Tyson interrupted. “Do you want to listen to the song?” he asked, ignoring my strange behavior. He was obviously proud of his brother.

  “Sure, I’d love to.” I grinned.

  They passed me the two headphones, and Tyson played back his brother’s song. I felt a bit guilty because I wasn’t really paying attention. I couldn’t process the eraser incident. I looked back at Nate’s table, but he was back to ignoring me. Minutes later I began to think that I’d imagined the whole thing. Bringing the tiny eraser out of my pocket, I held it tight, just like a precious diamond. It was physical proof of what happened, regardless of who did it.

  Sadly, that was the only interaction we had, and honestly, I wasn’t even sure if it had been him, or if my imagination wanted it to be him. It could’ve been anyone.

  *

  The next afternoon, by the last class of the day, I was still in a duel with myself, trying to block all Nate-related thoughts. For the first time in a very long time, I paid attention to Ms. Sanchez’s lecture. Emma and I were always the queens of the back row. Emma was surfing the Internet, hiding her cell phone under the desk. I wasn’t the only one who seemed to have problems focusing.

  Opening my notebook, I began taking notes and listening to Ms. Sanchez’s Spanish lesson. I wished for a moment that I could understand her undecipherable words. It was unfair that most Latino students missed the classes and still got straight A’s. Probably, their Spanish was better than Ms. Sanchez’s. In moments like this, I wished my parents were fluent in Spanish and had spoken it to me when I was a child. They would’ve saved me from the trauma of learning a foreign language as a young adult.

  At least this was the last class of the day. Pretending I had some energy left, I tried to listen to Ms. Sanchez, but I kept uncontrollably glancing at the clock. It seemed it had frozen at two fifty. I wrote an entire sentence in my notebook and gazed at the clock again. No luck, still ten minutes to go.

  Some students were staring at the back door when Ms. Sanchez turned to write on the board. Someone was waving through the door window. Leaning over my desk, I recognized the two troublemakers: Tyson and Chase.

  Closing my notebook, I decided to leave my long-awaited comeback until tomorrow. It wasn’t really worth it to stress myself over the last ten minutes of class. Tyson and Chase weren’t going to let me focus anyway.

  For some reason Emma, Tyson, and Chase insisted on driving me home in the evening, and after so much persuading, I felt compelled to accept the ride.

  The bell rang, and Emma and I quickly stowed our notebooks in our backpacks. The two girls sitting in front of me were whispering to each other and turned to gaze at me. It made me wonder if it was still related to Ethan’s party, and not everyone had forgotten about it as I thought.

  When Emma and I were leaving the classroom, I heard Ms. Sanchez calling. “Sophie?”

  “Yes, Ms. Sanchez?” I said, walking over to her desk. She was sitting in her chair, scratching the back of her head with a pen.

  “What exactly is going on with you? You were a straight-A student last year.” She pulled out a paper from her briefcase with a big, fat, red “F” written on the top, circled several times.

  I thought I was going to faint. This was impossible. I barely recognized my name written next to the F. This was too embarrassing. I was an A student. What had I been thinking? I looked around to check that there were no witnesses left in the room—only Tyson, Chase, and Emma staring at me from the door.

  “You know you’re not going to graduate if you keep going down this path, don’t you?” Ms. Sanchez fanned herself with my paper, my eyes following the hypnotizing movement of the bright F.

  “You seem very distracted. I’m going to have to talk to your parents. Is everything all right at home?”

  I wanted to scream. An image of me working as a casting assistant flashed in my mind. This was my worst nightmare. Staying in L.A. was comparable to getting a life sentence in Alcatraz. I was definitely tempting the odds by having an F in my transcript.

  Resting my hands on Ms. Sanchez’s desk, I was ready to beg her as much as it was necessary to let me rewrite the paper and get that horrible grade off my record. Also, talking to my parents wasn’t an option. If my parents learned about what I’d been doing at school lately, I was grounded for life.

  “I’m so sorry, Ms. Sanchez. I’ve been a bit distracted, but please let me redo that paper. I promise I’ll be your top student if you give me another chance.” My eyes filled with tears. I had to control myself because if I started crying, Ms. Sanchez would know something was wrong. Mom and Dad cared for me, and they also took their parenting really seriously. Being lazy at school was not tolerated.

  “Please, Ms. Sanchez.” I begged one last time. I was leaning over, both hands placed on her desk.

  She was mulling over the final verdict. Her lips curled into an unpleasant smile. “Okay, you have a two-week probation period. If you get anything but A’s, or I hear you babbling in the back row with your friends, I’m calling your parents.”

  At once, the tension loosened. I’d won this battle, but not the war. “Thank you so much, Ms. Sanchez. You will not regret it.”

  Shifting my backpack to my other shoulder, I strode away, giving her no time to change her mind. Tyson was leaning against the doorframe; Chase and Emma waited outside the classroom.

  “Let’s go,” I whispered, nodding them toward the end of the hallway.

  “Are you in trouble?” Chase asked, pulling his jeans up to his waist.

  “You got an F. We saw it!” Emma was shocked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” I sniffled.

  “But…” Tyson complained. Chase nudged him in the side, and thankfully, he understood my need for silence.

  Pacing through the hallway as quickly as my legs allowed me, we left the school’s asphyxiating walls behind. I couldn’t believe how close I’d been to disappointing my parents. Going from a top student to a troubled one was quite a dramatic turnaround. There was no time to waste; I was going to get my grades back on track. Tonight I was going to redo that paper, even if I had to work through the night.

  We continued through the back entrance to Chase’s car. They observed me in silence, probably trying to figure out what happened to the Sophie they knew. They didn’t dare question me any further.

  We climbed into Chase’s car and joined the line of cars leaving the parking lot. When I thought my day couldn’t get any worse, I was proven wrong yet again.

  I could see Tyson, Chase, and Emma staring at each other. They were starting to make me nervous. “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Sophie, we’re sorry, but we’re officially kidnapping you. You’re coming with us to the skate park.”

  “What? But I haven’t told Mom,” I complained.

  “I actually called her this afternoon to tell her you were coming with us,” Emma said apologetically.

  “What’s this all about?” I asked in disbelief.

  Finally Tyson spoke. “Hey, Sophie, you need to tell us what’s going on with you. You’ve been acting bizarre the last few weeks. You seem to be constantly elsewhere.”

  This couldn’t be happening. I didn’t need anyone else preaching to me today. Ms. Sanchez had been enough. And this was
more serious. Ms. Sanchez could complain about my grades, but these were my friends raising a red flag.The school bus in front of us emitted a thick cloud of smoke every time it stopped at an intersection.

  “I… I’ve been a bit depressed lately, but nothing to worry about.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t really know. I just have. I can’t stand living in L.A. any longer.”

  “I don’t really get you, Sophie. You’re always complaining. If anyone has a reason to hate her life, it’s me, and I’m coping.” Emma stared out the window.

  That comment just made me feel like the most selfish person on the planet. If anyone was in a difficult situation, it was Emma. Her dad left her when she was two years old, and she hadn’t heard from him since. Emma had been really close to her mom. However, three years ago, her mom’s boyfriend moved in, and everything changed after that.

  “Do you know what it’s like to see Mom’s boyfriend sitting on the sofa, drinking beer every time I get home?”

  She had a point. Her Mom’s boyfriend didn’t have a job and spent his days at home, doing nothing, while Emma’s mom worked twenty-four-seven. On top of that, he was abusive toward her mom. Emma had even begged her to kick him out, but she couldn’t do it. She always told Emma she loved him.

  “Emma, I know what you’re going through, but we should focus on Sophie.” Chase interrupted as he stopped the car at an intersection.

  “I understand Sophie’s counting her days to start at NYU, but she should at least be thankful for her family. Believe me! I’m the one counting days to move out.”

  Emma told her mom she wanted to move out when she made enough money from her acting jobs to live on her own, but her mom begged her to stay until she finished high school. Emma had discussed her home problems with her acting agent, and he told her he could help. Her agent said a lawyer could easily prove she was better off living on her own, but Emma couldn’t bring herself to do that to her mom. She knew it would destroy her.

  “Sorry, Emma, I didn’t mean to be such a drama queen. You’re actually right.”

  “Sorry, Sophie. I didn’t mean to make this about me. I just don’t get why mom won’t kick him out!”

  The only thing I could say in Emma’s mom’s defense is that at least she’d never asked Emma for any of her acting money. Her mom insisted Emma save it for after high school.

  “It’s just another two years.” I brought my arm around Emma’s shoulder and pressed her toward me.

  “Anyway, enough about me. You’re the one getting busted here.” Emma smiled at Chase.

  “Do you remember the day you disappeared from the movie theater a couple of weeks ago? We actually called your house after the movie finished, and your mom told us you weren’t there,” Chase murmured, looking at Tyson from the corner of his eye.

  My throat contracted. I was staring out the back window, as I didn’t have the courage to look them in the eye. A homeless man struggled to push his shopping cart along the street. He was stuffing an overhanging blanket back inside the cart. He stared proudly at his possessions.

  I’d officially been busted. They knew what a liar their friend was, and they were never going to believe in me again. Suddenly I realized there was something else I should be worrying about. Did Mom know I lied to her? Had Chase told her I wasn’t with them?

  “Don’t worry. I told your Mom I was with you in the movies but I’d left earlier,” Chase said with disappointment.

  The car next to us reduced speed to let Chase take a turn. Chase waved, and the girl in the car smiled shyly at him.

  “We decided to ignore it, but you’ve been so absent lately we’re beginning to be truly worried about you. It’s boy trouble, isn’t it?” Emma suggested.

  I had to be as honest as possible if I wanted them to ever believe in me again. Soundlessly, I mouthed, “Yep.”

  Tyson and Chase rolled their eyes at each other. Emma grinned. “I told you. I knew it! I knew it!”

  The tension in the car disappeared at once. They didn’t seem to care that I lied to them as long as I had some juicy gossip.

  “Who’s the lucky man?” Chase grinned, stunned.

  “I can’t tell you… It’s over anyway,” I mumbled, bringing my gaze down. I could feel my face turning scarlet.

  “Why?” Emma questioned.

  “It’s just a bit complicated,” I said, as though I was talking to myself.

  “You must be joking! You’re not going to leave us hanging like that, are you?” Emma shouted, crossing her arms across her chest.

  “Come on, Emma. Leave her alone. She at least admitted it,” Tyson said, coming to my defense and turning to look at me for a split second.

  “As long as you change your attitude. You can’t just get all blue because it didn’t work out. There’ll be more guys,” Chase said cheerfully.

  It was a piece of advice that you’d expect from your grandmother, not from a sixteen-year-old guy. Chase coaxed a smile out of me.

  “We don’t actually care if you prefer to keep it to yourself, but we need to get our Sophie back,” Tyson demanded.

  “All right, all right! I’ll try.” I promised.

  And this is why I loved my friends. That was the end of the story. They moved on without any resentment about my lies. They’d forgiven me, as simple as that.

  “Do you want to skate? I have a spare skateboard in the trunk,” Tyson asked Emma, looking at her in the rearview mirror.

  “I guess I could. Not sure if I want to hang out with her. She’s going to be all quiet anyway.” Emma joked, nodding toward me.

  “Can I go home, then?” I begged. “I already confessed. I need to redo my Spanish paper.”

  “No,” they replied in one voice.

  “You’re coming with us. Don’t you remember? You just promised to start being normal again.” Chase laughed.

  “Okay, but I’m not planning to have fun.” I half-grinned. Sliding the hood of my black jersey over my head, I tipped my head back and sank down in the backseat.

  They moved on to talk amongst themselves, ignoring my bad mood.

  When we got to the skate park, Emma, Chase, and Tyson parked me on one side and went to hit the skate ramps. I watched the skateboarders slide up and down the ramps with the constant movement of a pendulum.

  My hood was my invisible cloak. I wanted the world to know I wanted to be left alone. Huge skate ramps loomed up into the sky in front of the trees. I could see skateboarders being catapulted into the air to disappear behind the ramps seconds later. Loud rap music echoed in the background. There was a larger half pipe on the corner of the park where spectators were standing around, cheering on their friends. They managed to somehow suspend themselves when rolling up the pipe.

  I couldn’t stand myself anymore. My mood swings were overwhelming, even to me. This being a teenager thing was horrible. I never really felt comfortable in my own skin. Mom always raved about how wonderful it was being a teenager and told me these years were normally the most memorable in your life. But I really thought she was wrong. Adults always said that, but they forgot you were trapped in high school. Yes, there was youth, but not freedom. Not sure if that’s a fair trade.

  Anyway, life was quite unfair if by age sixteen you’d already had to give up what you cherished because it was the right decision. I didn’t want to continue growing up. All I wanted was a way for Nate and me to be together, but that was the only thing I couldn’t have. When I thought about his situation, I normally felt sad for him, but sometimes, like at this moment, all my energy turned into destructive rage. I wanted to scream. I wanted to break free.

  A group of African-American teenagers were blasting “Can I Kick It?” by A Tribe Called Quest on their stereo by the skate ramp. They were breakdancing to the rhythm of the song and some spectators were clapping compulsively to each beat. Their acrobatics defied the law of gravity.

  The skate park lamps were already on. There was still quite a lot of light, but the terraco
tta skies at sunset nullified the brightness of the lights. The landscape was an abstract composition of the bright red sky and gray asphalt. A few trees and a poorly watered grass field surrounded the skate ramps.

  Tyson and Chase were jumping on the grinding rail, exhibiting tricks. Emma was following them, mirroring their moves. The music kept blasting and the skating was becoming a fascinating show. I hummed along to the chorus that resounded in the background. “Can I kick it? Yes, you can. Well, I’m gone. Go on, then.”

  I knew Emma could skate, but I never realized how well before. She was a great skater. Tyson and Chase were drawing attention. Skateboarders had stopped to watch them.

  Tyson paddled with his back foot toward the diagonal grinding rail, and when he was a couple yards away, he kicked the tip of the board with force, causing a loud bang. The board elevated and he landed on top. He grinded down the rail with both trucks on the edge. Then he landed safely, squatting down on his board, almost sitting on it. Chase followed his moves, although not as naturally.

  The song kept blasting, “Can I kick it? Yes, you can.” Tyson jumped over a gap, kicking the board and making it spin 360 degrees before landing on top. Chase and Emma decided to skate around the gap to get to the half pipe. They didn’t seem comfortable jumping over it.

  They skated up and down the half pipe, and when the chorus broke again, “Can I kick it? Yes, you can,” Tyson floated in the air, using one hand to maintain the board by his feet and the other to grab the edge of the half pipe. He spun around and landed back on the board.

  Emma watched him from the side. Chase followed. He slid up and down the half pipe a few times without getting to the edge. It seemed he was weighing whether to try the trick or not. Finally, Chase squatted down to get more speed and jumped, grabbing the edge of the half pipe with his hand. We then witnessed the board flying away from his feet and Chase stretching out his hand to grab it, almost in slow motion. Then he hit the ground on his side. Everyone held their breath as he rolled heavily. The song continued to play, but the magic vanished at once. Suddenly it seemed out of place.