Draw the Line

by Laurent Linn

  “No, you were very stealth. Much calmer than I’d be.”

  I wouldn’t call this calm.

  He grabs his bag from the backseat, shuts the door, and locks his car. “Didn’t see anyone lurking, either.”

  “Maybe I’ll watch just a bit in case Mystery Guy decides to come by and take a look.”

  “Okay.” He hefts his backpack on his shoulders. “Let me know what happens. See ya in French, the Adrian.”

  As he leaves for some Pep Club meeting, I find a lookout point along the side of the building and plop down on the grass by a little group of trees. I inhale, then slowly let it out.

  Note delivered.

  I lean back against a tree and, squinting with the sun right in my eyes, watch Lev disappear around the corner that leads to the main entrance. Not only is he an amazing kisser, but he’s an awesome accomplice, too. Neither Audrey nor Trent ever offered to be my lookout . . . for anything. Of course, I never asked them. But if they knew I’d replied and written my own note, Audrey would rewrite it entirely and send it out to the global media, and Trent would just tell me to stop wasting trees.

  How nice to have someone trust me for a change.

  The wind whips around. Some brown leaves rain down and dance across the lawn.

  Sitting here, I’m halfway between the parking lot and the corner of the building near the entrance. The Dumpster is slightly hidden behind the cafeteria steps about, what, fifty feet away? But I’ll be able to see if anyone goes there, especially since Doug’s bubbamobile isn’t here yet to block my view. His bright-red tank is hard to miss, so I’ll be up and out of here before he even shuts off the engine.

  After ten or more minutes of hanging out, avoiding eye contact with the parade of kids that walk past, I’m tired of watching a very boring Dumpster. This time has been constructive in one way: I’ve discovered all sorts of crap in my backpack I forgot was there. I’ve been wondering where this gummy eraser—

  Bwoop-bwoop!

  Crap. I know that sound.

  How’d I not hear Doug’s pickup arrive? He and Buddy are already heading my way.

  I toss everything in my bag and zip it. Shifting my legs, I get ready to jump up and run but hold my breath and wait.

  Tapping Doug’s arm with the back of his hand, Buddy nods his chin in the opposite direction from me toward a blond girl crossing the street. “Yo, look.”

  Doug shakes his head. “Dude, never gonna happen. How many times has she told you to go screw yourself?”

  “Catch ya later.” Buddy dashes across the lawn to her.

  Doug rolls his eyes and keeps walking.

  Not moving a muscle, I stare at the ground and keep him in my periphery. Coming this way, he must have the sun in his eyes at least.

  His heavy steps crunch in the dead grass and pass me by.

  Okay, good.

  Then he stops.

  I lift my head and blink in the sunlight. He’s looking down, right at me.

  Don’t mess with me, Doug.

  He scrunches his forehead and scans around. Suddenly, he stiffens and takes one look toward his truck, then stares at the ground for a second.

  Oh, god.

  The wind kicks up, so he grabs the brim of his cap and pulls it down farther over his face. He gives me one last hard stare, turns away, and walks around the corner.

  Could he possibly have figured out I drew those flyers, like Trent and Audrey said he would? I don’t see how. Maybe he’s just paranoid now about people getting in his truck, or he’s annoyed I’m watching him. Still, that was weird.

  I get up and slip my backpack onto both shoulders. Eyeing Buddy, who’s over on the sidewalk annoying that girl, I ease along the side of the building and peek around the corner.

  People are arriving and some hang out on the front steps.

  High-fiving some guy who booms “Awesome win!,” Doug heads through the doors. I need to wait just a couple minutes and get some space between us.

  I check back where Buddy is. I’m out of earshot, but it’s clear the girl doesn’t like his hands on her shoulders. She shoves him away, hard. He cracks up but, looking around, mouths something to her and turns to come this way.

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and slink back along the wall in the shadows to the trees, raising my shields and channeling my practiced Graphite invisibility moves.

  Pissed off and muttering to himself as he makes a beeline to the entrance, he doesn’t even look in my direction as he disappears around the building.

  Asshole.

  The girl runs over to a couple other girls and they hang together on the sidewalk, glaring at where Buddy went.

  The first bell rings.

  “Give it back!” someone yells. From around the corner, pieces of paper float by in the wind and tumble across the grass, casting long shadows.

  I walk back and peer around again. Buddy’s running in a big circle, holding a purple backpack, pulling out folders and tossing them in the air, papers flying in all directions. That drama girl Carmen is frantically gathering up what she can, screaming at Buddy to “Give it back!”

  People just watch, some laughing.

  Whipping around the corner, I take off after Buddy, pounding the ground with my feet.

  He turns Carmen’s backpack inside out and shakes what’s left onto the ground.

  I run harder, the lawn and everything bouncing and blurred in my periphery. I’m almost to Buddy now.

  He sees and spins to face me. Slipping on a folder, he hits the ground.

  Running past, I stoop and yank the bag from his fist, then stop and pant.

  He jumps up, shaking out his fingers. “What the—”

  “Leave her alone!” I yell. Gripping the bag tight, I take a step toward him.

  Sun’s behind me, so he holds up his hand to block it from his eyes. He gapes at me, then jerks his head around, scanning for, what? Doug? Backup?

  My chest heaves.

  It gets quiet. Lots of eyes watch us.

  I try to catch my breath but don’t look away from him.

  He points right in my face. “You are dead!” He kicks one of Carmen’s books and sends it flying. I jump out of the way. Then he stomps up the steps and through the doors.

  Kids say “Oooooh!” and “Wouldn’t wanna be you,” but most people just look like they don’t want any trouble and head inside. They only care about getting away from the scene.

  “C’mon, help us pick up her stuff!” I say.

  No one does.

  Turning the backpack right side out again and scooping up the other books as I go, I dash over to Carmen and hold open her bag. “Here.”

  Shaking, she puts what she’s gathered into it and takes it. “It had everything. All my homework. Everything.”

  I squeeze her shoulder. “Let’s keep going.”

  We chase down more papers, which swirl around the grass.

  By the sidewalk, the girl Buddy harassed and her two friends drop their bags on the ground and run to join us, trying to stop what they can from blowing into the street.

  After picking up the rest of the pages and folders and pens and books, we all gather around Carmen and help her shove what we collected into her bag. Some pages blew away, past the street and beyond, but I think we caught most of it.

  Half her hair has come loose from her ponytail and hangs over her face. She takes off her neon-orange glasses and, through tears, keeps repeating, “Thank you.”

  The blond girl tells her she’s sorry and “Buddy’s such a prick,” and pats her shoulder. Then she and her friends scoot up the steps and go inside.

  No, he’s far worse than just a prick.

  Second bell rings.

  Eyes frantic, Carmen clutches her bag to her chest. “What do I do? All my homework. I’m screwed.”

  I force a grin. “I think we got most everything. Maybe not so bad once you sort through it all?”

  I survey the now almost-empty front lawn and steps. No damn teachers. No damn
security guard. Sure there are cameras outside, but so what? Buddy’s got McConnell for protection. He’d probably say something about boys being boys and harmless pranks the Monday after a big game or some bullshit.

  No. This has got to stop.

  But taping art to lockers clearly doesn’t work.

  I need a real plan.

  SLIPPING INTO FRENCH A MILLISECOND before the final bell, I plop my bag on the floor by my desk, sink into my seat, and turn to Lev.

  He leans forward. “What is it?”

  Still catching my breath, I say, “Tell you later.”

  He gives me a confused look, but just seeing him again makes me smile.

  I spin around before anyone can notice and get my books and stuff ready.

  As Madame Pauline gets to the lesson and the minutes pass, my breath returns to normal and I stop sweating. At last, my brain slows down.

  All right, a plan. Buddy’s on Doug’s leash even if he sometimes gets out of control. He licks Doug’s boots and desperately needs his approval, so whatever I come up with still needs to focus on Doug. It has to be a plan to take care of both at the same time.

  And it can’t be majorly lame like my last attempt. So then . . . what?

  “Ah-loers, cha-pee-tra deez-wheat see voo plahy,” Madame Pauline says.

  Thank god that, in addition to translating the French, we can also translate her accent. We flip to chapter eighteen in our books like she asked and I repeat the phrases I’m supposed to, but Lev keeps kicking at my shoes. Hard to not bust into a grin. I swing my feet under my seat as much as I can to kick back. Until I bump his desk, which scrapes on the floor tile, and people look at us. We stop.

  I fiddle with my LaTrina bracelet and glance back at Lev once in a while to remind myself Saturday night wasn’t just a fantasy. It’s so weird being in this class for the first time knowing who Lev really is. And that he likes me.

  After class he and I head down the hall together. Through chatter and locker slams bouncing all around, I tell Lev about what happened with Carmen and Buddy.

  Lev stops in his tracks. “And you went for him?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, no, I went for the bag, not Buddy.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Got pissed off.” I look around us in case Buddy appears out of nowhere. “He sure wasn’t expecting someone to ruin his fun, especially not me.”

  As I fill Lev in on the details, his eyes get wide.

  He shakes his head. “I could never jump into the middle of something like that.”

  “I’m still amazed I did.”

  “I’m not.” Leaning into me, he says under his breath, “Just be careful when you’re out there saving the day.”

  It’s all I can do to not kiss him right on those awesome lips. But, of course, no way that’s ever gonna happen here.

  In the corner of my eye I catch Audrey walking past. Seeing Lev and me whispering so close together, she does a double take and her eyeballs practically pop out of her head.

  She and I lock eyes for a split second. Then she frowns and spins around, plowing right into a guy’s big chest.

  “Whoa!” he says.

  Oh, boy, the big chest belongs to Manuel.

  Straightening her blouse, Audrey looks up. “Didn’t mean to—oh.” Then she sees it’s him. “Watch where you’re going!”

  He puts up his palms. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry—”

  She pushes past him and moves on.

  Flustered, he notices me, then looks back at her. “Really sorry. Really!”

  He takes one more look at me, sees Lev, and walks away, fast.

  I turn to Lev. “That was so so freakin’ weird.”

  “That’s Manuel, right?”

  I nod. “Talk about worlds colliding.”

  “You’re right, he was weirded out. But he’d better find a different cute guy to freak out around—you’re taken.” He grins, then glances up at the wall clock. “Ooh, we should get going.”

  I give him a little wave. “See you later.”

  He waves back, and we part.

  I’m still pissed at Audrey, but it’s so bizarre she doesn’t know about what’s up with Lev and me. I bet they’d like each other if she knew . . . Oh, screw it.

  I gotta get to algebra.

  Lunchtime. Going between classes has been blissfully uneventful since this morning, but at this point I’m ready for whatever.

  Navigating to the cafeteria, I spot Kathleen closing her locker so I look for Lev in case he’s with her, but he’s not here.

  As I pass, she sees me and smiles big. “Hey! I heard you guys had fun Saturday night.”

  Uh-oh. How much did he tell her? My expression must be saying the same thing as my brain because she blushes and says, “The bingo game sounded awesome.”

  “It was.”

  We just kinda look at each other.

  I grip my backpack straps. “Maybe we should all go sometime?”

  “Oh! Great idea. I’d love to.”

  I nod. “Well, see ya later.” Then I head for the cafeteria.

  Oh, man, what else did he tell her? Of course, I would’ve too. Guess I did talk about it to Harley, but it’s kind of a one-sided conversation with a cat.

  Inside the cafeteria, I go by the drama table to check on Carmen, who’s already there with her friends. She tells me she got most everything back but has to redo some massive project, which majorly screwed her grade, and she’s really pissed off. She’s also been getting crap all day, like a few guys lunging at her in the halls and pretending to grab her backpack. So many people saw what happened this morning that she can’t escape it.

  I tell her I know that feeling too freakin’ well and that she’s not alone.

  As I start to leave, she stands and gives me a hug. I awkwardly pat her back and she lets go. These drama kids are always hugging. But of course I get why she hugged me, which is kind of amazing.

  I tell her to hang in there and then I move on. As I zigzag through the bustling tables, I glance back. She notices and smiles, so I smile back.

  And I don’t give a crap who sees.

  No Audrey at our usual spot—hardly a surprise—but no Trent yet either. I brought my lunch, but he’s probably stuck in the line. At least, after all that weirdness on Friday after school, I hope he comes. He was being a jerk, but so was I.

  There, he is paying for his lunch. Pretty easy to spot a giant vampire. He looks over toward me and I wave. He pauses for a split second but comes over and plops down his tray.

  Seeing him makes me want to blurt out everything about my date with Lev. Not here, though.

  “Howdy,” I say.

  He slides into a chair. “ ’Sup?”

  I unwrap my turkey and Swiss sandwich as he starts in on burrito number one.

  He’s really quiet, so we eat in silence.

  Digging my fingernail into my orange, I peel back the skin and squirt juice in my eyes. “Ow! That sucked.”

  He grins and hands me a napkin. “What is it with you and your War on Food? You always lose.”

  I wipe my eyes and face. “Sad but true.”

  He unwraps burrito number two. “Hey, so I looked at your website like you said I should.”

  No one’s paying attention to us and there’s the usual clatter and chatter. “What did you think?”

  He slowly shakes his head and leans in. “Dude, if ‘Thug’ and . . . what’s your name for Buddy? ‘Bootlicker’? Oh, my god. If they ever see all that stuff, you’re so dead.”

  “That actually wouldn’t change much since they’ve told me that already. Even today.”

  His eyebrows go up.

  “Long story. But what else did you think? I, well . . . kinda posted some other comics too.”

  “You mean of me? So I noticed.” He leans back and smiles. “Willow’s pretty kick-ass, isn’t he? Still not sure about my name, but I love my outfit. Wish I really owned that jacket.”

  My shoulders relax. “Good, you’re n
ot pissed?” I bite into a section of my orange.

  “I’m not, but can’t speak for Sultry Audrey.”

  “Well, who can?”

  He grins. “And even if those assholes ever see it—and they will kill you—that stuff you drew of Thug beating Kobe . . . freakin’ awesome comics.”

  “You really think so? Probably the hardest thing I’ve ever drawn.”

  “Epic. But I wouldn’t toss around any more stuff up and down the halls. Lucky misfire, there, dude.” He downs more burrito.

  I roll my eyes. “No, that won’t happen again.”

  Not the flyers and especially not the misfire.

  But what is my plan? It hurts my brain to think about it.

  And right now I have someone else on my mind.

  I finish my orange and slap my hands on the table. “Ohmygod!”

  He jumps. “What?”

  “Sorry. It’s just, holy crap, I have so much to tell you!”

  “Um, okay?”

  No way I’m filling him in here, though, so we clean up our stuff and make a plan to meet after school.

  I gotta talk to someone about Lev.

  When I get to chemistry we have a new project and have to pick a partner. Even though we don’t sit so close, Kathleen and I glance at each other and she gives me a little grin. I shrug and smile back because, well, why shouldn’t we be partners?

  We huddle at a lab table by the wall, and after we’ve divided our tasks for the project, she grills me about LaTrina and asks if I remember her best jokes. So I do the closest impersonation I can. When I scream “Liar!” I get in trouble for disrupting class for the first time . . . ever. Kinda awesome.

  Following my usual routes from class to class, I avoid anyone I don’t want to see and make it through the rest of the day.

  When the last bell rings I zip to Lev’s locker and find him waiting for me.

  “Hey!” I say.

  “So, Kathleen told me you guys had way too much fun in chemistry.”

  I give him a confused look. “Really? What did she say?”

  “Well, she said you were talking about—”

  “Liar!” Feigning shock, I slap my hands to my mouth and open my eyes wide.

  He busts out laughing. “Oh, man. My face still hurts from when she did that.”

  Chrrrp chrrrp comes from his pocket. He pulls out his phone and reads a text.