by Susan Oloier
And somehow, someway, Grace coerced me into taking Acting with Father Dodd again.
“It’ll be lots of fun. Plus Father Dodd really likes you.”
The real reason I took the class and joined the Drama Club was so that I could see Chad. I knew I’d be torturing myself, but it was better than not knowing and always wondering.
I stepped back into school as though I’d never left. Unfortunately, Grace and I didn’t have the same lunch hour. I didn’t know what I was going to do all by myself in the cafeteria. Study, hang out in the bathroom, or feign sickness, I supposed. Yet another thing to dread about the school year.
In Mr. Wagner’s Chemistry class, we paired up with our year-long lab partner. Mr. Wagner made the decision through his highly scientific approach: he drew names the night before.
He was a squatty man with a thin comb-over. He wore only tones of gray: a walking tribute to Ansel Adams. He gesticulated constantly, so much that his motions overshadowed his words. Instead of taking notes on the molecular structure of hydrogen and oxygen, I tried to decipher what musical composition he directed with his arms. It looked like Toccata and Fugue.
He exuded a passion for chemistry and seemed to relish the grimaces from students when they didn’t like their lab partners. For some reason, I thought Mr. Wagner would take vulgar pleasure in pairing me with Margaret. Instead, my partner was a new girl: Cassandra Pascarella.
When we met at the lab station, she didn’t smile. She looked striking, but not necessarily pretty. Her naturally curly hair shone with pomade. It looked like a mixture of dark brown and Tuscan red. She had the nose and mouth of a horse, but her eyes were shaped like those of a cat with the same intensive stare. I hated cats.
“I’m Noelle.”
“I got that when the teacher said your name,” she quipped.
I ignored her, didn’t even flinch at her comment. I had enough enemies in this school. There wasn’t room for another. Apparently, she sensed my aloofness and attempted to goad me even more.
“You look like a chemistry nerd. You going to get us an A on all our labs?”
I knew I didn’t look like a nerd anymore; she was trying to stir trouble before we even used the beakers and Bunsen burner. Margaret and her partner positioned themselves at their assigned station right next to ours.
A gust of courage coursed through me. “No, I’m more of a D student. Hope you don’t mind.”
She smirked. “Then I guess we’re a perfect match.”
I suffered through half the day, with the worst of it yet to come. I still had to endure English and Acting III with Trina. As I made my way to the cafeteria for my solitary lunch, I saw Chad for the first time since the park. He leaned against a locker in deep discussion with Trina. It was one of those fly-on-the-wall times. I wanted to be one.
Their discussion came to an abrupt end with the slam of Trina’s locker. She stomped away, leaving him alone. As he moved away, he glimpsed me and smiled meekly. But he didn’t bother to say hi or to come over. He merely sauntered away.
Lunch. Chop suey, a block of white rice. Did the school overcook everything? I chipped at the maggot-white cube on my plate. I really needed to bring my own lunch.
As I nose-dived into the first chapters in Chemistry, Cassandra—who preferred to be called Cassie—dropped down next to me at the table.
“I see you opted for the San Quentin special.”
“Yeah.” I shoved it away.
Trina and Liana strolled up to my table, maintaining a safe distance. Trina leaned in my direction.
“Well, if it isn’t little Ms. Wannabe. I don’t know what he sees in you.” The queen bee stung me with her words, but I wasn’t going to respond to someone who talked to me that way. What I really wanted to do was tell her where she could stick her attitude, but I couldn’t find my nerve. Cassie watched with icy aloofness.
“You better watch your back,” Trina warned and stormed away.
“And that was…?” Cassie questioned.
“Just some snobs who get their kicks from bothering me.”
“And you put up with that shit? No one would ever speak to me like that. Ever.” Her tone was threatening. With her predatory feline eyes, she watched them move through the hallways with the ignorance of grazing sheep.
Grace was giddy in Acting class. She and Henry had taken to holding hands in the hallways now. He had just dropped her off at the theater. Chad and Trina entered separately and took seats at opposite ends.
Father Dodd seemed unusually somber. He dragged himself to the front of the class and took role call; his voice was monotone and nearly inaudible.
The year was not off to a good start. Everyone, with the exception of Grace, showed signs of moodiness. I glanced over at Trina, wondering what she had in store for me this time. And why she and Chad weren’t glued to one another anymore.
Cassie and I got along well in Chemistry. She wound up being much smarter than she initially led me to believe. She appeared defiant, but proved to be extremely thoughtful and intelligent. She mastered the periodic table of elements, their boiling points, and chemical symbols. Often, we completed our lab before everyone else. One day she caught Margaret copying our research.
“May I help you?” Cassie glared at Margaret with her penetrating stare. Margaret’s eyes widened at the confrontation.
“No…just thinking.”
“And your thoughts just happened to linger on our research notes?”
Margaret assumed a defensive sneer I hadn’t seen since the sixth grade. “I wasn’t cheating, if that’s what you’re implying.”
Cassie refused to back down. “I didn’t imply anything. I think I made myself quite clear.”
Margaret’s look pleaded with me. I turned toward the front of the room.
Cassie’s eyes feasted on Margaret’s weakness. When Margaret finally averted her gaze, Cassie returned to the table. “What’s up with these kids?” she said to me. “They think they’re untouchable.
It seemed I finally had an ally in Cassie.
Cassie had moved to Scottsdale from Santa Monica. She possessed a don’t-mess-with-me attitude. She was born and raised in California and had a boyfriend, Shane, who still lived there. They talked to one another every other day.
“Your phone bill must be huge.”
“My dad pays for everything.”
I felt comfortable around her. I could be myself. So I told her about it—my history with Trina & Company. I figured she’d understand. I sensed that she felt a sort of hatred for the group, too.
At lunchtime, I abandoned the ritual of the cafeteria to go outside with Cassie. She smoked. The smell of burned tobacco permeated her Downey-rinsed clothes. She sparked a Camel and leaned against the wall. Of course, school policy prohibited smoking on the grounds, but Cassie struck me as the kind of person who found ways around the rules. She extended the pack to me, but I waved it away.
“Sounds like you need a healthy dose of revenge.”
“I don’t know.”
Cassie took a drag on her cigarette. She sucked in the vapor, let it dance on her tongue, and then blew it out.
“But you’ve thought about it.”
“Maybe.”
Of course I entertained evil thoughts about Trina. I filled pages of my journal with them. But that’s where it ended.
“You want revenge? I’ll tell you about revenge.” A stream of smoke leaked through her teeth.
Just then, Father Timothy rounded the corner of the building. He read our guilt like memorized bible verses and hurried over. It looked like a pink slip was headed our way. Cassie attempted to tuck the cigarette behind her khakis.
“Smoking, I see.”
I remained silent, not knowing how to respond. I had nothing to worry about anyway; I wasn’t the one with the cigarette between my fingers.
Father Timothy looked around. His willowy body stooped over like the branches of a tree.
“You know you’re not allowed to smoke on
school grounds.”
Cassie moved to extinguish her cigarette.
Father Timothy motioned to stop her. “Ah, I’ll let it slide this time, especially if you let me bum one from you.”
Cassie held out the pack of Camels to him, and he took one. She pulled out a lighter, offering the flame to him. Cassie took one last pull and knocked the cherry from the tip. She threw the butt of her cigarette down and crushed it with the tip of her loafers.
“See you later, Father.”
But Father Timothy was too caught up in his addiction to acknowledge us further. He drew short puffs through his thin lips and closed his eyes. He lost himself in a cloud of smoke.
Cassie moseyed back to the cafeteria. I followed.
“I didn’t say anything about revenge,” I said, picking up our conversation where it had been dropped.
“Hey, I get the picture. This group treats you like shit, and you let them do it. That’s cool with me. How long did you say they’ve been working you over?”
I felt uncomfortable talking about it. I wished I hadn’t mentioned anything.
“Five years.”
“Yeah, why don’t you continue being their doormat? Footprints look good on you.”
She took off, leaving me alone with my own thoughts. And hers.
Frustrated, I slumped into a library chair and tossed my backpack on the table. I considered studying, but became caught up in Cassie’s words. Maybe she was right. Maybe true revenge against that group was the only way to free myself, to free Grace. We needed to regain our dignity, show them we couldn’t be pushed around. But how? I didn’t know how to get revenge against someone. Where was I supposed to start?
I must have been lost in my thoughts for a long time. When I glanced toward the clock, I noticed a pair of eyes invading my personal space. It was Chad. His smile startled me. He stood from his lonely place at a corner table and walked toward mine.
“I’m supposed to be in study hall, but I wanted to talk to you. You have a minute?” he asked.
For him, I had all the time in the world.
“Trina and I broke up.”
Chad and I ventured off campus, walking to the nearby Circle K.
The door jangled as we pushed our way inside.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said as I studied the nutritional content on the back of a Kit Kat like it was the formula for the Pythagorean Theorem. I briefly glanced up to measure his reaction. Chad rifled through an endcap of sunflower seeds and Corn nuts; a twenty-four ounce soft drink balanced in his other hand.
“You should be.” He looked up at me and all I saw were coffee eyes and dimples. “It’s all your fault.”
“So it wasn’t true love after all?” I opted for the Kit Kat and headed for the register.
Chad slid next to me, paying for everything before I had the chance. His arm brushed against mine, causing the hair on my arms and legs to bristle. He grinned. I could sink into those dimples.
The door chimed as we exited. The heat, like the blast from a hairdryer, reminded us that summer had not yet eased its grip on the Valley.
“But when I saw you over the summer, everything was fine between the two of you.” I peeled back the wrapper on the candy bar. He didn’t answer. He stopped on the sidewalk, setting his cup on the bench of the bus stop.
“What happened?” I continued, not giving him the opportunity to answer.
He gave me his full attention, but he wasn’t really listening. “Did she find someone else? I mean it seems like she wants to be with you. I saw her this morning and—”
“No. No one else,” he said, touching his eyes to mine. I felt a murmur in my heart, ripples in my stomach, from the way Chad looked at me. He brushed his fingertips against my own.
“Then what?” I asked as my arms tingled with anticipation, and my words nearly caught in my throat.
He moved closer to me and stared into my eyes. Then he slid his fingers to my face. Next thing I knew, Chad’s lips grazed mine. Gently at first, then alive with the pulse of passion. In the middle of the sidewalk, with all the passing traffic, he kissed me for a long time. I glimpsed around to make sure I was still a part of reality, not in a dream. Then I closed my eyes, let his lips fold over mine. I sank into the moment. Like releasing a balloon into the air, I let myself float in the feel of his mouth, the taste of his breath. The kiss lifted me into the clouds.
He pulled back and looked at me. “Does that answer your question?”
But I didn’t even know what the question was anymore.
I was unable to quell my euphoria. It lasted the rest of the day. Even while I washed dishes, even when my mother told me she wanted me to visit Celine or she’d cut my hair herself, I felt elated. I didn’t even get angry when Becca lagged behind in her clean-up duties. By the look on her face and her moping behavior, I knew her day was the antithesis of mine.
I had a hard time concentrating on my homework. As I tried to calculate the perimeter of a cube, all I thought about were Chad’s lips against mine. When I looked at the words written in the first chapter of The Catcher in the Rye, I only saw he kissed me, he kissed me. It took me twice as long to complete my homework as it should have. I toyed with the idea of calling Grace, but I wasn’t ready to confess everything to her yet.
I put on pajamas and went to the bathroom to wash my face, but Becca had already beaten me there. I decided to use my parents’ bathroom instead. They would be busy for hours looking at television.
I spent extra time in front of the vanity. I knew my mother had a jar of mud mask in the medicine cabinet. I plastered my face with it and sat on the toilet seat. It needed to stay on for ten minutes before I washed it off. I considered returning to my room, but I was afraid I might get caught.
I found clippers and cut my fingernails; I changed the empty roll of toilet paper. After I set the cardboard roll in the wastebasket, I lifted it back out. Something inside caught my eye. A box was disassembled, folded, and deliberately placed at the bottom of the garbage can. It wasn’t the box itself that caught my eye, but the word pregnancy printed on it.
Like a garbage picker, I exhumed the box from the trash. An EPT Pregnancy Test stared back at me. My surprise cracked the mask that had dried on my face. Pregnancy test? In my mother’s garbage? I scrubbed off the mask and looked at the box again. My mother took a pregnancy test?
It occurred to me that if the box was in the garbage, the test itself might be, too. I rummaged through makeup-blemished tissue, soiled Q-Tips, and used dental floss. An unidentified object was coiled in toilet paper like a mummy. I unwrapped it. Bingo. The pregnancy test itself. I looked at it. All I saw was a line and an X. What did that mean? Did a line and an X mean pregnant or not pregnant? The only thing that ran through my head was I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ no babies, Miss Scarlet. Then I realized I had the box under my arm. The back of it showed two pictures. My mother was going to have a baby. How … disgusting!
As I lay in bed, I tossed and turned considering the idea of a newborn in the house. So many times I wanted to run to Becca’s room and tell her, but she was in such a grouchy mood. It would have to wait. I wondered if my dad already knew and when my mother planned to share the news with us. I wanted to ask her about it, but I couldn’t confess to my mother that I’d been snooping in her bathroom. I thought about calling Aunt P. She would love to hear a tidbit like this one. But I remembered that she and I weren’t necessarily buddies at the moment. Oh my God. A baby.
Chad cornered me at my locker after homeroom. My joy in seeing him brimmed over like boiling water in a saucepan.
“You busy this Saturday?” he asked.
“No, but…”
He waited. Embarrassed, I finished my sentence. “My mom.”
He waited some more.
“She doesn’t exactly let me date.”
Skepticism crossed his face; I could tell he thought I was lying. “What about the guy at the Spring Fling? He looked old enough to be your uncle. W
asn’t that a date?” I sensed a hint of jealousy in his voice.
“He was a friend of Grace’s brother. My mom only let me go because I was with a group.”
“Then let’s double with Grace and her boyfriend.”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you blowing me off again?” he jibed.
“No! It’s just that…well, Grace doesn’t know yet.”
“Then tell her.” He seemed defensive.
I wasn’t ready to tell Grace, but I was ready to go out with Chad. “You know what? Why don’t we meet somewhere? I can create a cover story, and my mother will never know.”
A smile crawled back onto his face. “All right. How about six o’clock, the AMC theater at the Pavilions?”
I nodded, smiled. I was unsure how I would get there, or what excuse I would give, but I’d go. No doubt about it.
Chad pecked me on the cheek, defying the school’s strict policy about PDAs. I watched him saunter away. His waves of burnished hair, the fit of his pants, and the joy of knowing he was mine instead of Trina’s made me smile—inside and out.
I was so engrossed in my reverie that I didn’t notice Grace sneak up on me.
“I just saw Chad kiss you.” The blood appeared to leak out of her face. “What’s going on?” Tears washed over her eyes.
“I meant to tell you.”
She said nothing.
“I didn’t think you’d care anymore since you have Henry.”
“I don’t. Henry and I are really happy.” Her tone of voice betrayed her. She bolted, probably toward the girls’ bathroom again. This time I refused to go after her. I was finally happy, and I wanted her to be happy for me.
Cassie and I met in the cafeteria. For most of the semester we moved off campus for lunch. Because we had an important Chemistry project to work on, we decided to get it out of the way—in her words—while we ate lunch.