by Kirby Hall
Back at home he showered off and then fell onto his bed exhausted. When his foot hit the guitar he hadn’t bothered to move off his bed, he replaced it against the wall, its power to ignite his temper gone.
Chapter 6
“So, you were right? West was the one?” Bekah’s eyes were huge from her place in Alexa’s passenger seat.
“I was right,” Alexa grumbled.
“You don’t sound very happy. I mean, he is cute and he came to your rescue. Why the negative vibe?”
“First of all, he’s not that cute. And secondly, I don’t have a negative vibe. I just don’t think he’s so great.”
Bekah flipped the visor down and studied her lip gloss. “He’s pretty cute.”
“Let’s just drop it, okay?”
Bekah smirked. “Sure.”
Alexa chose to ignore her friend’s sidelong stare out of the corner of her eye. It was bad enough she had her first class with West, she didn’t need to spend her morning talking about him, too. She pulled into the crowded parking lot and squeezed her new Volvo between a large truck and a pale blue sedan, cars that looked normal in a high school setting. She’d tried to get her dad to let her get a used car, something less flashy, but he’d turned a deaf ear. He was only interested in safety features. Grabbing her bag off the backseat, she joined Bekah on the sidewalk and pushed the lock button on her keyring.
“You going to see Jay later?” Alexa hated bringing him up, but she was interested in what went on in her best friend’s life even if she hated the topic of Jay. And, it was possible he’d called.
“I’m supposed to, but you know how that goes.” Bekah kicked at a rock near the tip of her shoe. “People can change.”
Alexa wasn’t sure who Bekah was trying to convince. “Yeah, some people do I guess.” It was the best she had when it came to Jay. They both knew she thought he wasn’t good enough for Bekah, a topic they agreed to disagree on. “I mean he’d have to want to. It isn’t enough for you to want him to.”
“Yeah, I got it,” Bekah cut her off. “How’s Josh?” She asked, breaking the silence as they started to climb the stairs. “I haven’t seen him since you guys started night rehearsals.”
“He’s good. He’s going to kill as the cowardly lion.”
“Naturally,” Bekah agreed. “Has he heard back from Purdue yet?”
“Not yet. I’m sure he’ll scream it from the top of his lungs when he gets his acceptance letter.”
Bekah laughed. “You’re probably right. Catch you at lunch.”
Math dragged on for what felt like an eternity, but Alexa made sure to keep her eyes focused on the board every miserable second. She didn’t want to catch even a glimpse of West. West with his bad attitude and judgmental looks. West with his God complex and dark eyes and long fingers.
“Miss Cross, did you have a question?”
She started and looked around to see everyone else staring at her. “No, sir,” she stammered.
“Very well.” Mr. Guin faced the front again and began to write a new problem on the board.
She exhaled and did her best to follow what he said the remaining few minutes of class. It was work to keep from glazing over. When the bell rang, Alexa bent over her bag to replace her notebook.
“Miss Cross, a word please.”
Alexa’s eyes cut to West, but he was already moving toward the door. She didn’t want him to be around to hear what Mr. Guin had to say to her. Not that she cared what West thought. Alexa finished packing and stepped up to the desk, her heart beating hard in her chest. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but it was never good to be pulled to the side by a teacher. Never.
Mr. Guin folded his fingers together and looked at her in the eyes. “I know you’re in a hurry to get to your next class, but I wanted to ask you to meet me here this afternoon so we can discuss your situation in this class.”
She had a situation now? Definitely, not good. Alexa shifted her weight. “Can’t you just tell me now?”
“We’ll discuss it this afternoon.” Mr. Guin leaned back in his chair, signaling the end of their meeting. The thought of what was coming in the afternoon filled her with dread. Finishing the test early must’ve been a bad sign after all.
The rest of the day passed in a whirl of class, class and more class, each one finding Alexa more anxious than the last. She passed by the drama room and cast her eyes to the ceiling. After she finished hearing what Mr. Guin had to say, she’d have to explain to Mrs. Brale why she was late to practice. Short of showing up in traction, there was no excuse Mrs. Brale would find acceptable.
The remaining students were filing out of the halls like prisoners breaking out of jail. By the time she reached Mr. Guin’s hall, his part of the building was deserted. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the walls, twisting her nerves until she was wound tighter than a rubber band about to snap.
“Ah, Miss Cross,” Mr. Guin gestured to a seat on the front row. “I wanted to see you because I wanted to speak to you about your grade in my class.”
“Mr. Guin, I can do better. I need some time, but I can do this.” Sweat appeared on her palms, making them slick and clumsy. “I had a C,” she said a little louder than a whisper.
He shook his head. “I’m afraid you’ve dropped to failing after your most recent test.”
Alexa sat speechless as the blood left her head and made her dizzy. She’d never failed a class before. Her dad was going to kill her. His high expectations were going to come crashing down around them, and she was going to end up spending the rest of her junior year on restriction. Not to mention, her college application was due soon. College. The word sat like lead in her mind. She couldn’t fail. She needed this class to graduate and to get her scholarship. There was no way she could count on her dad to fund drama school. And, there was no way she would qualify with a failing grade.
Mr. Guin gave her a moment to adjust to the news and then continued. “Now, I know you’re capable of doing the work. You’re a smart girl, but you’re going to have to buckle down and put in some serious hours or you won’t have enough time to pull your overall grade up before the end of the semester.” He stood and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid you need more help than I have time to give, and that’s why I’ve spoken with the person in the class with the highest average. He’s going to be tutoring you at my request.”
He. The blood left her face as she tried to swallow. Please don’t let it be West Howell. Please don’t let it be West Howell.
A shadow filled the doorway, and she didn’t have to look up to know her worst nightmare had come true. She could sense his presence like a deer in the woods can sense a predator.
“Ah, here he is now. Miss Cross, I believe you know Mr. Howell?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and sat up straighter. “Yes, sir.”
“West, I’ll leave it up to the two of you to work out your own schedule.”
West nodded, but remained quiet. Alexa was working hard not to stand up and pull her hair out like some sort of animated character in a cartoon while laughing hysterically. This could not be happening.
Mr. Guin continued on, unaware she was one step away from hysterics. “I’ll expect the two of you to work together four days a week.”
Alexa’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out.
“I’ll evaluate your progress by the extra assignments you’ll be required to turn in at the end of each week. Also, if Mr. Howell feels you aren’t doing your absolute best to succeed or if he feels you aren’t taking this second chance seriously, he’s been told to report to me immediately. You will not fail this class because you weren’t given every opportunity to succeed. The only way to fail is to give up.” Mr. Guin leaned down toward her. “And we both know you’re not a quitter.”
While she ap
preciated the chance and his opinion of her work ethic, she was having a hard time concentrating on anything other than having to spend time outside of class with West four days a week. And now, he also knew she was an idiot. Perfect.
“You’re free to go. West has the first assignment you’ll be working on.”
She stood, but didn’t recognize what she was doing. She was like a robot on autopilot. She was pretty sure she thanked Mr. Guin for the chance to improve her grade, but maybe it had all been in her head.
Once out in the hall, she slumped against a locker and let her head fall back against the metal. The sound echoed down the hall and was followed by heavy footsteps.
“Don’t worry, A-money, I’m not exactly excited to be spending time with you, either.”
She lifted her head and stared at him. “What did you just call me?”
He let his shoulder rise and fall. “A-money.”
“Cute.” She pushed off the line of lockers and started walking toward the parking lot. She needed to get out of there. Wait. She changed directions, she still had practice.
West jogged up beside her. “Look, we need to set up a time to meet. How about now? We could hit the library and still get out of here while we’re young.”
She twisted around and faced him. “I get that you don’t have a life other than skulking around with the dead and offering to help morons like me, but I do.” Her voice became more hysterical with each word. “I have practice right now. So, no, I can’t run off to the library with you. You’ll have to use your brilliance to come up with a different plan.”
His face darkened and she waited, half expecting him to start yelling, but he didn’t, which made her want to yell at him even more. He didn’t give her the chance. He turned and walked away. What was it about him? Guilt mixed with trepidation as she turned and headed toward the stage. She’d have to sort out her bitchy feelings from her guilty feelings later.
Muffled music greeted her until she stepped into the auditorium and heard the full sound as it echoed throughout the acoustic-friendly space, filling the room and giving it life.
“You’re late.”
Alexa froze with one hand on her bag. She didn’t have to look up to know Mrs. Brale was talking to her.
“Why did everyone stop singing?” Mrs. Brale shouted from her place behind the piano. She pounded the keys again, bobbing her head hard enough to make her earrings look as though they would fly off at any moment.
Alexa stood at the edge of the curtain with the rest of the cast and sang along, offering her voice to the ensemble. Usually practice was her escape. The one place she could do what she loved and dare to dream about what her life could be, but she had a bad feeling about today’s practice. There seemed to be a dark cloud hanging around her head. Her peers were tense, the teacher was annoyed, and here she was on the verge of failing her final math class. It was the sort of day she wished she could skip by going to sleep until it was time to start over again the next morning. Of course, the next day would be the day she’d have to apologize to West.
She sighed. She’d acted like a total bitch. It wasn’t his fault she was failing. She’d have to find a way to make it up to him.
“Alexa,” Mrs. Brale shouted. “You’re up. Last half of act one.”
She dropped her bag, stepped out from behind the curtain and into the bright spotlight. The stage floor shook beneath her feet as the set pieces were rolled into place behind her. Megan caught her eye and smiled reassuringly from the far side of the stage. Alexa smiled back and then blocked everything out but the music.
She, Josh, and their fellow travel partners hooked arms and headed out of the Emerald City to track down the witch. Students pretending to be flying monkeys hung off of ladders on either side and then the witch appeared before them. Lines were exchanged and the bucket raised to end the wicked witch, but instead of moving around each other in a circular motion, Alexa crashed into her fellow cast mate.
The senior stared at her like she was an idiot while Josh offered the girl a hand to help her up.
“I thought you studied the notes to catch up on the changes?” Josh whispered.
“I did,” she hissed. “This is what her notes said.”
“Alexa, what are you doing?” Mrs. Brale asked from the audience. “You need to go downstage now. Again.”
The group took their original positions and ran the scene again. Alexa moved with the flow, following her fellow cast mate’s leads. The scene ended well and then they moved to run the final scene with the wizard. They each stepped forward to receive their gifts and then Alexa managed to run into the tin man.
“Alexa, what are you doing now?” Mrs. Brale hollered.
“I’m sorry, I thought—”
“We could all see what you thought was supposed to happen and it was wrong. Megan, get out here and finish the run through so we can all get home sometime tonight.”
Heat flooded Alexa’s cheeks as Megan brushed past her and took her position beside Josh.
With a glance over her shoulder, Megan swished her hair and shrugged. “Sorry if you had trouble reading my writing.”
Alexa’s blood boiled. Trying to hold onto the last shred of her dignity, she walked off the stage and grabbed her script out of her bag. The least she could do was fix the notes in her script so she’d be ready at the next practice. It wasn’t like she could tell Mrs. Brale Megan was a grade-A heifer who’d sabotaged her. Excuses were like buttholes, Mrs. Brale liked to tell them, everybody has one.
The lights dimmed as the last note hung in the air and then the house lights went up signaling the end of the show. Alexa joined the group on the stage to hear Mrs. Brale’s final thoughts. The usual notes were given. Speed up this scene, tighten the timing on another. Alexa tapped her foot hard enough to make Josh nudge her with his elbow. She pressed her heel to the floor as her anger continued to simmer beneath the surface.
“I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Mrs. Brale said. “Alexa, hang back a minute.”
She and Josh glanced at each other. He offered her a reassuring smile, but then left her side in the rush of bodies heading off stage. Deserter.
“Alexa, what was going on with you tonight? It isn’t like you to miss marks or be late to my practices.” Mrs. Brale eyed her over the rim of her glasses, making her feel young and small.
“I’m sorry. I had to meet with my math teacher.”
“Are you going to be ready for regionals?” Mrs. Brale removed her glasses and crossed her arms in her lap. “There are a lot of people counting on you who’ve worked very hard. If you aren’t going to be able to give this one hundred and ten percent, I will be forced to give Megan your spot.”
Alexa’s stomach turned over. “I’ll be ready.”
“Good, now go home and study your notes.”
Chapter 7
He’d definitely made a mistake. There was no way he was going to be able work with Alexa. And, it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. He showed up and attempted to setup a meeting time and she’d lost her damn mind. She was the most uptight, prissy, narcissistic person he’d ever met. Like hell was he going to go out of his way again to try to help her. She’d have to figure things out on her own.
His shoes crunched the gravel as he walked along the side of the road. To think he’d almost felt sorry for her. He passed through the gate and climbed back up the hill. When he arrived, Joe, the caretaker, was holding a rake in one hand and wiping his brow with the other.
“Hey, West. How’s the world treating you today?” Joe always asked him the same question the same way and had been for two years.
West smiled at the old man. “It’s not my day, Joe.”
“Sorry to hear it.”
“How about you? Feeling all right?”
“All right enough I guess.” Joe leaned
on his rake, his arthritic knuckles swollen from decades of manual labor. “So, what’s vexing you, brother? Woman troubles?” Joe smiled when West shook his head. “Yeah, it always is. Few things in the world can get to a man the way a pretty woman can.”
West never said she was pretty. Although, if he were being honest, she wasn’t half bad. They stood beside each other in silence as the wind blew through the large oak trees and caused several of the colorful leaves to break free and take flight. On the ground beside the headstone, yellow and orange flowers caught West’s eye. They were planted on either side of his sister’s grave. His chest tightened so he remained quiet, afraid his voice would betray him otherwise.
“Well, it’s best I be gettin’ home. You take care, West. And good luck with your lady.”
West let out a half laugh and kept his eyes on the horizon. “Hey, Joe,” he called when the old man was halfway down the hill. “Thanks.”
Joe waved a hand and kept walking.
When he was gone, West took a seat in the dirt and leaned against his sister’s headstone. The grass beneath him was flat from his frequent visits. In his usual place, he opened his bag and pulled out his history notebook. The trig notes he was supposed to go over with Alexa seemed to mock him as he flipped past them. “Jesus,” he whispered, “I can’t even escape her here.”
He read through his notes a few times and then slammed his notebook closed. He wasn’t taking anything in. His mind kept wandering, so he stood and climbed the rest of the way up the hill. The ground sloped away from him, the area opening before him offering a view of half the town. Beyond the trees were a few roofs, a church steeple, and some industrial buildings. But, no one could see him when he stood here. Except Alexa, his mind reminded him. Even here she’d seen him.