My Junior Year of Loathing (School Dayz #2)

by Jennifer DiGiovanni

  “You’re lucky, Mel. Your date’s a sure thing,” Becca says, pointedly ignoring the dance activity going on in front of her face.

  Will drops his hands to her shoulders. “Calm yourself, woman. Don’t sound so excited about taking me to homecoming.”

  I glance over two tables and check on Ty, who hasn’t talked to me since I told him I just wanted to be friends.

  “Why can’t I like normal guys?” Becca voices my exact thoughts, although she’s laughing.

  “I’m sure we’ll all have a blast,” I say, trying hard to smile.

  Becca puts her arm around me, a silent show of support, even though she has no idea why I need help right now.

  ***

  After school, I follow the brick wall around the Westerly Estate, searching for the tree Connor uses to scale this monstrosity. If he’s still close by, he probably returned to his safest hiding spot. I stick to the area closest to the edge of the woods, testing every low-hanging branch capable of holding a person’s weight. It’s a slow process. Finally, at the farthest corner, edging out from the forest, I find it. One giant oak with climbing potential. High above, a thick, bare branch juts to the side, hanging over the edge of the bricks.

  I dig my high-tops out of my gym bag and slip them on for better traction. The lowest branch supports my first step, but when I boost my second leg up, the limb snaps off. I squeak in surprise as the rough bark slips through my fingers, though I’ve only fallen two feet.

  I try another, higher branch, but when I look up, there’s nothing to grab within arm’s reach. Damn Connor and his longer limbs. For the first time in my life, I wish I was two inches taller. I grip another branch and plant my feet against the massive trunk, but wind up horizontally stuck inside the tree, with sticky sap coating my hands. Seriously, Connor must be related to Spider-Man. Or he carries rappelling gear in his backpack.

  I drop to the ground and call his name, not really expecting a response. After a breath of silence, I retreat back into the woods, following the distant gurgle of the stream. At the clearing, I rip a piece of paper from the notebook in my backpack and write him a quick note.

  I need to know if you’re okay. Xoxo, Mel.

  I secure the note with a rock, leaving half of the paper sticking out so he won’t miss it when he passes by. Then I leave my thermos, which is only half-filled with water. Still, it’s better than nothing. I add one more sentence to my note.

  Drink this water. I draw an arrow to the thermos.

  Not this water. I draw an arrow pointing to the stream.

  ***

  Like a prisoner, I eat cold sandwiches in my room, not ready to grovel and beg my mother for leniency. Over dinner, I attempt to solve differential equations while half-listening to one of Mom and Brian’s rare arguments rising from the dining room. They never disagree about anything in front of me. I’m sure they know I’m home, but still, my name volleys back and forth as they continue their heated debate. I complete my first problem set and their loud voices reach a peak. The back door slams. Mom storms up the stairs and pounds on my door, shattering my concentration. I toss my pencil on the desk and stuff my class notes back into my binder. I’m so not in the mood for confrontation right now.

  “Mel? I want to talk to you.”

  I swing the door open and sweep my arm around to indicate I’m alone.

  She barges in, barely glancing at me, her arms folded in front of her chest. “Brian and I were”—she pauses and I supply the word fighting, in my head—“talking. About what happened last weekend.” She shakes her head, like she still has trouble believing my bad behavior. “Brian’s new to this parenting thing, but I think he sometimes uses a more rational approach than me. He thinks the … incident … was pretty far out of the realm of possibility for you. So, maybe there’s more to the story.”

  “Brian took my side?” I can’t say I’m 100 percent surprised. Brian is much more levelheaded than Mom. But he usually defers to her in all matters relating to me.

  She steps over to my desk and studies my framed photo collage. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  I take a deep breath, carefully choosing the right words. “You caught me in bed with a guy. I can’t make that part sound any better.” I stare at my painted toenails. At least my unexpected grounding left me with enough free time to squeeze in a self-pedicure. “But I can definitely say we weren’t doing what you think we were doing.”

  Mom turns to face me. “Let me clarify what you’re saying. You did not have sex with that boy, correct?”

  “No. I did not have … You’re correct.”

  “But he was sleeping here. In your bedroom.”

  My face heats up. “Yes.”

  Mom turns away from my photos, focusing on me. “You asked for a chance to explain. Do you want to do that now?”

  I shift my weight, swaying back and forth. “Like I said, he has family problems. I was trying to help. And to be honest, we’re friends, Mom. I like him. A lot.”

  “Friends.” Mom breathes in through her nose, and her eyes flutter open and closed. “Is he taking you to the homecoming dance?”

  “No. I’m going with Ty Quinn. Just as friends, though.”

  “I’m confused. You seem to have a lot of guy friends.” She holds up one hand, like I’m overloading her with too much information.

  “I can understand your confusion. But I don’t feel as if I can tell you everything about Connor without his permission.”

  “Are you in trouble? Outside of this house, I mean.”

  “No. Please don’t worry about me. I’m not in any trouble.”

  She stares at me for a long minute. “Will you need your truck for school?

  “It would be helpful if I could drive. I’m still in charge of the junior parade float. Kaylyn wouldn’t let me off the hook, even though I told her I was grounded. But I can find rides if I need to.”

  With a heavy sigh, Mom heads for the door. “Let’s see how the next few days go. If there are no more … surprises … you can have your keys back in time for the weekend.”

  I bow my head. “Thank you.”

  I wish I could tell Mom everything about Connor. I’d love to ask Brian for help. But if Connor realizes people are actively looking for him, he’ll definitely leave town. If he stays close by, I still have a chance of finding him again and convincing him to stay with me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The thermos is empty. He’s still here. I leave three new water bottles, along with the contents of my lunch bag: a banana, baked potato chips and a lemon-flavored Greek yogurt. I tear a sheet from my notebook and scrawl out a message.

  Dear C.,

  Eat this. Are you okay? A response to my note would be nice.

  M.

  After school, when I pass through the clearing again, everything is gone. No written thank-you, of course. I leave the supersized bag of Doritos I picked up in the cafeteria at lunchtime. No more notes for someone who refuses to answer.

  This pattern continues for the rest of the week. Whatever food I leave disappears by the time I pay another visit to the clearing.

  Friday morning, I jam two turkey sandwiches, an apple, and a bag of cookies into my backpack. I leave the food on the fallen log, along with a heavy blanket. Today, I need to leave an update.

  Homecoming dance tonight. Will bring more food tomorrow. Stay warm for me.

  As an afterthought, I add one more line.

  I miss you.

  School is one long, nonstop pep rally with rotating performances thanks to the marching band, the pep band, the cheerleaders, and the Trailblazers dance team. Blazer Bear makes an appearance, refusing to be put down in favor of a newer, hipper mascot. After the final bell, the homecoming committee gathers to put our final touches on the floats. I run to the party store to pick up three dozen blue and white helium-filled balloons. As the float drivers line up their trucks according to Kaylyn’s predetermined order, I circle each of the vehicles, double- and tripl
e-checking to make sure all decorations are firmly attached. Becca appears with a glue gun and we paste blue-and-white fringe to cover spots where the bare wood peeks out from under the plastic sheeting we used to create our tidal wave.

  “Time check,” I call.

  “One hour to kickoff,” Becca answers. “Do you need a ride home?”

  A breeze kicks up, flapping the fringe. The balloon arch bobs back and forth, threatening to take flight. A last minute pang of uneasiness strikes my chest. Should I speed through the woods and check for Connor one more time? I’ll never make it to the game if I do.

  “A ride would be great,” I tell Becca. “Cross your fingers and hope I get my keys back tonight.”

  “You never told me why you’re grounded,” she says, giving me the side-eye.

  “Just a misunderstanding with my mom that I never bothered clearing up,” I say.

  Becca nods. She knows all about mom drama.

  ***

  Even though Becca drives me home in record time, I’m still late for the game. In the middle of the second quarter, I slide into the bleachers mere seconds before the homecoming court lines up for pictures on the sidelines. At halftime, Kaylyn and her boyfriend Bodhi Dashiell are crowned homecoming queen and king. Bodhi’s the starting quarterback this year, so when the makeshift stage is rolled onto the field, he steps up, still in uniform. We hoot and holler as the couple parades around the field, Kaylyn looking supremely uncomfortable in her high heels.

  For once, the Harmony Trailblazers make a game of it. We’re crushing the Lionsboro Lions twenty-one to six. I spy Will on the sidelines, helmet off, taking practice kicks between plays.

  In the last two minutes, the JV team takes over, and the crowd celebrates. Will jumps up and down behind the cheerleaders and high-kicks along with them, inciting roars of laughter. As the final seconds tick off the game clock, we chant the school fight song, turning the final verse into a thunderous roar of victory.

  A piercing buzzer signals the end of the game. Alumni and students storm the field, kicking off what’s sure to be an all-night celebration. The defensive line carries Will out of the stadium on their shoulders, bouncing him over the crowd and plopping him on the junior float. Then, the football players lift Becca and carry her across the field as she kicks and fights, complaining she’d prefer to walk, thank you very much.

  “Melinda!” Colette breaks off from a crowd of sophomores and runs to me. “Your float looks perfect!”

  “It’s not just my float, but thanks. How’s this week’s column?”

  Colette laughs. “You’re always thinking about work! But my feature’s gonna be awesome! I wrote up an alumni edition of ‘Guess the Student’!” She points to a tall blond guy wearing glasses. Andy Kosolowski, back from MIT. Next to him, his girlfriend, Sadie Matthews, levels me with a threatening look. I wave to them from ten yards away.

  Andy waves back. “How’s calculus?” he calls.

  I give him a thumbs-up. “How’s college?”

  He gives me a thumbs-up.

  “Awww, this is what homecoming’s all about,” says Colette, throwing her arm around my shoulders. “Happy reunions.”

  “Ha, ha. Someone wouldn’t very happy if I went over and hugged Andy, would she?”

  Colette laughs. “You and Sadie have history, but she doesn’t hate you, anymore. I told her about you and Ty.”

  Behind us, the parade takes off. A long channel of trailers and wagons snakes down Main Street, followed by the marching band. Sparks fly into the night sky from fireworks, igniting rumors of a secret bonfire in the field behind the Westerly Estate.

  After the parade travels through town and returns to school, Will jumps off the junior float and races to his car.

  “I need to shower and change!” he yells to Becca.

  “Pick me up in an hour,” she replies. “Come on, Mel. We need to get dressed.” She drives me back to my house, where I slide into my dress and touch up my makeup. As promised, the keys to the SUV are waiting on the counter, with a note from Mom telling me to have fun and be safe.

  ***

  Ty picks me up an hour later, flowers in hand. I press up on my toes to kiss his cheek.

  “Thank you,” I say, and then add, “for understanding.”

  His answering smile is charming, almost charming enough to make me forget Connor’s absence for a few hours. But Connor is always in my mind.

  “I’m, uh, still hoping you’ll change your mind about us.”

  A knife twists in my chest. “Ty … I wish it was that easy.” I take his hand in mine and squeeze. “Some things have been going on … away from school … and I need to deal with them.” I lift my eyes to his and smile. “But not tonight.”

  As we drive to the dance, I work hard to be a good date, asking the right questions and laughing at Ty’s funny stories. Until we turn into the school parking lot and a high-pitched siren shatters the air.

  My heartbeat takes off. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Sounds like the fire bell,” Ty says, seeming completely unconcerned.

  I step out of Ty’s Jeep. My nose twitches at the faint smell of burning air. A fire truck barrels down the street, flying by us.

  Ty takes my hand and leads me toward the open gym doors. I glimpse the blue and white streamers the decorating committee hung earlier this afternoon and my legs turn to lead. Because something is happening. Something very bad. I can’t walk into this dance and worry about Connor all night. I need to find out what’s going on and make sure he’s not in any danger.

  “Hey, um, Ty, I just remembered that I promised Kaylyn I’d check on our float after the parade. I’ll be a few minutes behind you.” I root myself to the asphalt.

  “What are you talking about, Melinda? No one cares about the parade. It’s over,” he lashes out, nostrils flaring. Like he expected me to bail at any minute and I’m proving him right.

  “But I was in charge of the junior float. I should make sure the stage hasn’t collapsed and damaged the wagon.”

  “No one expects you to check for dents in the dark. Stop by tomorrow morning.”

  Meanwhile, the burning odor in the air seems to intensify. “What if one of the floats caught fire? Balloons and fringe might be flammable … ”

  Ty snorts. “The fire bell goes off every weekend. It’s probably nothing. A cigarette in a trash can or something.”

  A dark sedan with blue flashing lights zips around the corner, heading in the same direction as the fire truck.

  I back up a step. “You’re right. Probably nothing to worry about. But I’ll run over to the stadium and make sure.” I wave him toward the gym. “Go inside and have fun. I’ll catch up with you in a few.”

  Ty squares his shoulders, straightening up to his full, towering height. “Forget it, Melinda. You should have just said you didn’t want to go to the dance with me.” He turns and stalks off, leaving me alone in the middle of the parking lot.

  The fire bell blares again. I spring into action, power-walking toward the road as I pull my phone from my purse. It vibrates and rings before I can dial for help.

  “Mel, it’s Becca. Big news story happening! We just passed the Westerly Estate, and something behind the wall is on fire.”

  The world starts to spin. Connor.

  I rip off my heels and sprint toward the road. “Pick me up at school. In front of the gym entrance.”

  “We’re on it.”

  Two minutes later, Will’s car races up to me. “Hop in, Scary,” he says. “Where’s your date?”

  “I told him to go ahead without me.”

  Will’s eyebrows elevate. “You left Quinny at a dance to chase after a news story? Total dedication.”

  I grip the handle on the door, wishing I could spill the details. But … now isn’t the right time. Will circles back toward the Westerly Estate, but the road leading to the entrance gates is blocked by police vehicles.

  “Drop me off near the woods. I can find my way around
the barricades,” I say to Will, panicked about losing time.

  “You’re not cutting through the woods alone,” Becca says. “No story is worth that.”

  “I have my phone. And three of us won’t be able to sneak in unnoticed,” I insist.

  “How will you get over the wall?” Will asks, but his words sound dim through my panic.

  “I’ll find a way.”

  Will speeds to the trail entrance closest to the Westerly Estate.

  “You really want to do this?” Becca asks.

  “I need to do this. My story won’t be finished … ” Until I find Connor.

  I cut through the woods, using the rising clouds of smoke as a guide. When I break out the trees, the wall lies twenty steps in front of me, clouded by an inky black haze.

  I press up on my toes, straining for a better view. High flames shoot into the night sky. The barn roof is on fire. Water jets out of fire hoses attacking the sparks from every direction.

  The brick barrier looms in front of me, strong and solid. I race around to the gates, knowing it’s my only hope. A cry of relief escapes me when I spy Jack’s truck parked in front of the entrance. The two metal gates are hinged open. Firefighters dressed in heavy yellow suits hurry in and out, speaking in staticky voices through their air masks. When the area clears for a brief instant, I rush in, escaping notice.

  I pass through the gates, entering the grounds of the estate, and the fire’s heat slams into me. Orange and yellow blazes flash in front of my eyes.

  “He wasn’t in the barn. And if he was, he got out,” I tell myself, pressing forward, searching.

  “Stop, Mel.”

  I turn to the voice behind me. It’s Jack.

  “I need to find Connor.”

  The barn’s red wood groans and splinters under the weight of the smoldering roof. Shouts erupt when one of the walls begins to collapse. Jack takes my arm and drags me away from the fire.