The problem is, I can’t stop thinking about him. If I hadn’t heard the regret and sorrow in his voice, if I hadn’t seen the pain in his face, if I hadn’t felt the desperation and longing in his outstretched arms, then maybe I’d still have him out of my mind, but not now. Now I see his face everywhere.
Mr. Terupt was the first to show me how to forgive when he came out of his coma. He took Peter in his arms and told him it was okay, that he forgave him. But here’s the thing: Everyone knew that Peter didn’t mean for that snowball to hit Mr. Terupt, or for any of that terrible day in the snow to happen. It was an absolute accident. What I need to know is, how do you forgive someone who knowingly hurts you? How am I supposed to forgive my father when what he did doesn’t chalk up to an unfortunate accident? And the even bigger question: How’s my mother ever supposed to forgive him?
“It’s February, people,” Mrs. Reeder said today in class. “I’d like to remind you of your yearlong quest to do something of importance with your words. Your paper on this very topic will be due before you know it. Do not make your key word procrastination,” she warned.
This much I know: If our old gang stands a chance, if the marriage that’s still—by law—intact between my mother and father has any chance, then some of those important words that Mrs. Reeder keeps talking about will need to be shared. No procrastinating.
Complicated,
Jessica
P.S. When I gave The Giver back to Mr. Terupt, I told him I thought it was a happy ending even though it reads as ambiguous. He said I’d have to show him.
Dorky/geeky Luke couldn’t wait for his Everything Fair. And though he didn’t know it, I could’ve kissed him for giving us that project to work on. It was a much-needed distraction in my life, because I spent every other second of every other day worrying about Mom, wondering if her cancer was gone, or still lingering. And, like, that wasn’t anything we’d know for a few months still.
Mom had suffered through so much already. Every round of the chemotherapy drugs kicked her butt. When taking the medicine, she did nothing but sleep and throw up. I wished there was some way I could make her feel better, but, like, all I could do was help her in and out of the bathroom and hold her hair back while she was draped over our toilet. I had to scold Margo after every episode because she kept trying to lick Mom’s face, which was incredibly gross, but it also made Mom crack a tiny smile. Vincent knew what he was doing when he got us that little angel.
Vincent was there for me and Mom every step of the way. Bringing us dinner on the bad nights, checking in on us every day, and keeping an eye on Mom at work. She’d been back waitin’ tables for a week now. Mom thought the best way to get over the fatigue she’d been experiencing from all those drugs was to keep moving. Vincent made sure she didn’t overdo it, but the regulars at the restaurant all understood anyway. They were like our family away from home. Of course, even strangers caught on right away when they saw a woman wearing a scarf on her head. Mom was still beautiful, though. I did her nails, and let me tell you, they were dazzling. And I made sure she had sparkling earrings and plenty of bling on her hands. She was still a knockout. There was no doubt about where I got my looks. And I had my looks working for me, too.
Zack was constantly at my locker, trying to hit on me. That was fun at first, but he was getting a bit annoying, like a mosquito I wanted to swat away. I needed to figure something out—and so did Jessica. She’d come back from the retreat with all sorts of complicated feelings, but she wasn’t ready to talk about them. I told her I’d be there to listen when she decided it was time.
“Thanks, Lexie,” she said. “Actually, there is something else I want to discuss now.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“The book I just read.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. A book? Again? And after what happened with the last one?”
“Not just any book, a book Mr. Terupt gave me,” Jessica said. “And I know he gave it to me for a reason.”
“Sometimes I think you’re crazy.”
“Me too, but just listen.”
She went on telling me all about that book and what it meant for us—and for the gang. She had me listening because what she was saying made sense. Like, who wouldn’t want things back the way they used to be with all of us? There were glimpses of the old stuff whenever we were around Teach, and it always felt good. The way Jessica saw it, we had a choice. Either keep on being quiet or get busy using some of those important words Mrs. Reeder was always yapping about.
“Communication is one of the keys in a relationship, and in fixing one,” Jessica said.
I wasn’t sure if she was only thinking of the gang when she said that, or her mom and dad, too, but the plan was for us to try talking to the gang. We thought it wouldn’t be easy. But then something happened that got us talking in no time—something that shook all of us awake.
We scheduled the Everything Fair for the final Friday in February because then we had all of our Thursdays to prepare for it, and we needed every minute we could find, especially after the Valentine’s blizzard flattened our town and took one of our Thursdays away from us. There was a ton of work to get done with advertising and organizing for our big event. Thursdays were my favorite day of the week by far—but it wasn’t a Thursday that changed everything.
In Mr. Smith’s social studies class, Wednesdays were most important. This was because we spent Wednesdays preparing for Friday’s current events trivia game, and the team to win in current events trivia received an additional three points on their next quiz or test.
“Part of being a responsible citizen is knowing what’s going on in the world,” Mr. Smith had told us after the new year. “How are you supposed to go out and make the world a better place if you don’t know what’s going on in it? You need to be paying attention to the world, national, and local news. Therefore, we’re going to make a habit of doing exactly that in this class.”
I was excited by his declaration because I also knew part of being a good president was being knowledgeable about these things. I was always focused and eager to learn and absorb as much information as possible on Wednesday.
Mr. Smith would pass out the newspapers and give us the next thirty minutes to read. After reading, we would meet in our teams and discuss what we’d learned, giving us a chance to prepare for Friday’s trivia contest. Mr. Smith always saved the last ten minutes of class to answer any of our questions.
This Wednesday, I pulled out the local section first, as usual. I liked to start with that because there was never much going on, so after a quick skim I’d be able to move on to the more important stuff—but that wasn’t the case today. I grabbed my paper and bolted from my seat. I was on my feet and running down the hall.
“Luke, where do you think you’re going!” Mr. Smith yelled.
I never slowed down. I booked it to the lunchroom.
“Luke, what’re you doing here, aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Danielle asked. She was the first one to spot me when I burst into the cafeteria.
“Where is everybody? I need to talk to you guys.”
She gestured. The gang was scattered about the room, but once they saw me they got up from their places and started toward me.
“Are you cutting class?!” Peter asked, all excited by the idea of me doing something bad.
“Luke, what’s going on?” Jessica asked, concern in her voice. She knew very well there had to be a good reason for me to be standing in front of them instead of sitting in social studies.
I led them over to a nearby table and spread my newspaper open. Then I pointed to the article previewing this year’s upcoming school budget vote.
“Yeah, so?” Peter said. “The stupid budget. Big deal.”
“The stupid budget failed by almost a thousand votes last year,” I said. “They’re expecting difficulty with it again this time around.”
“It’ll pass eventually. It did last year,” Peter said.
&nb
sp; “It only passed after cuts were made,” I said. “If it fails again this April, more cuts will need to be made.”
“What kind of cuts?” Jeffrey asked.
“That’s the question,” I said. “They’ve planned a special meeting for next month to discuss all of this—the potential cuts. We need to go to that meeting.”
“I’m not going to any stupid school board meeting,” Peter said.
“You’re still not getting it. They’ve already made cuts when it comes to supplies and materials. Now they’ll be forced to do something more. That could mean eliminating teacher positions.”
“So they’ll get rid of some of the old farts around here,” Peter said. “That’s not a bad thing. There are a few that need to go.”
“Sure, except that’s not how it works,” I said. “It’s all based on seniority. It’s the low man on the totem pole who gets axed.”
“You mean they could get rid of Mr. Terupt?” Anna asked, her voice shaking.
“No way!” Peter said, slamming his fist on the table. He looked at me for confirmation.
They all looked at me, hoping I would tell them that wasn’t possible, hoping I would tell them Mr. Terupt was safe, but all I could say was “We’ve got to go to that meeting.”
LUKE’S SEVENTH-GRADE SURVIVAL GUIDE
TIP #14: Know what’s going on in the world, especially close to home. This is important for more than just current events trivia with Mr. Smith.
I couldn’t believe it. My fears had come true. The storm wasn’t over. It was picking up speed.
Luke wanted us to go to the budget meeting.
“It says here the meeting isn’t for another month, and then they’re voting some weeks after that. We’ve got to do something right away. We’ve got to go see Mr. Terupt,” I said. I needed to see him.
“We can’t go to Mr. Terupt,” Jessica said. “He’s got enough to worry about without worrying about us, too.”
“I don’t think he’d want us to know his job was on the line,” Anna said.
“You’re right,” Lexie said. “We’ve got to help him without him knowing.”
“How?” Jeffrey asked.
“We’ve got to show everyone what a good teach Teach is.”
“I’ve got it!” said Jeffrey. “Let’s work on the Everything Fair like we planned, but let’s make sure to tell everyone it’s all because of Terupt.”
“That’s perfect,” Jessica said. “They’ll see how much he inspires us and what a good teacher and mentor he is.”
I could see Luke thinking it over. “You know,” he said, “it just might work.”
“It’s gotta work,” Peter said.
Dear God,
Please make it work.
Amen.
Even though we had a plan, we walked out of the caf like a bunch of zombies going through the motions of getting ready for our next class. I ended up in the girls’ bathroom—the same one I’d started the school year in with my friends. Back then we were busy trying to hide something. Today was a different story.
I found Anna and Danielle in there already, and then Jessica came in a minute after me. For a second, the four of us just stood there. Then we let it all out. We were done hiding. Teach needed us—and we needed each other.
“Jeffrey really likes you,” I blurted to Anna. Those words just leapt right out of my mouth. It was as if I had to say everything I’d been storing up over the last three months in the next three minutes. “Jessica and Jeffrey were talking about you in the closet. That’s all that happened.”
Anna had been silent before I said anything, but I swear, what came spilling out of me left her even more silent after that.
“I’m sorry,” Jessica said next.
“Me too,” Anna said.
“So am I,” Danielle said. “Lexie, Peter was only trying to help me in the closet because I was freaking out. I shouldn’t use my diabetes as an excuse, but I didn’t know I had it back then. I wasn’t feeling right, and I didn’t know what was going on with me. I’m sorry.”
“The closet was my stupid idea,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you since learning you have diabetes.”
“It’s okay,” Danielle said.
We inched closer and closer with every word we spoke.
“I missed you guys,” I said.
“We missed you, too,” Anna said to me and Jessica.
We threw our arms around each other. The bell rang in our ears, but we only squeezed tighter. There was never a better reason for being late to class. I felt a surge of strength that I’d been missing ever since the party.
There was still more that we had to say, but I knew now that it would happen. I love my friends so much. It made me so happy to have them back.
The Everything Fair had been important from the start, but now it was a really big deal. We worked our butts off and told everyone we invited that it was because of what Terupt taught us that we were able to pull it off. If we could get everyone seeing what an amazing teacher Terupt was, then getting rid of him would be impossible.
Working on the fair took our minds off why we were working so hard. It really was going to be awesome. We had something for everyone. Anna and two of Terupt’s sixth graders set up a photography and scrapbooking station. Lexie (plus Margo) and Jessica, along with two sixth graders, were working with makeup and face painting. Danielle had a sixth grader helping her run an art station where kids could sketch and paint or create name designs, and Luke organized an animal center (which is why Margo was allowed to attend) with the help of a few others. In addition to our stations, Terupt’s students had a yoga center, an origami table, a baseball card shop, and more. Plus, we had another 153 seventh graders participating!
Peter was our DJ and MC for the event. Everyone who was at Mr. and Mrs. Terupt’s wedding last year would agree, Peter did a great job of DJing there, so we were excited to have him doing this. We knew music would add to the atmosphere and help make it a high-energy and fun environment.
For my station, those completing name designs (with Danielle’s assistance) got to bring their creations to me, where we used the paper drawings as templates and cut the name out of a piece of wood. The cutting was done with a jigsaw, so my father was there overseeing the operation because (1) it was his jigsaw, and (2) Principal Lee and Mrs. Williams said his supervision was mandatory since the activity involved running a power tool. I didn’t argue with them on that point. It made good sense. And Terupt and Luke used their good sense when they put Peter’s station as far away from my area as possible.
On the morning of the fair, Terupt asked Danielle to make a name design for me while my dad and I worked to get our station organized. Terupt wanted me to practice before any students or other visitors started arriving. I thought that was a good idea. Once we had everything set up, I turned the saw on and did a few warm-up cuts on scrap wood, and after that, I told Danielle I was ready.
“Anna,” she yelled over to a nearby table, “I made you a name design. Jeffrey’s waiting to help you cut it out.”
Anna looked at Danielle with the same surprise I felt. “What do you need me for?” Anna asked.
“Mr. Terupt wants Jeffrey to practice helping someone cut their name out so he’s ready for today. He asked me to make your name so Jeffrey could help you.”
My mouth went instantly dry. I couldn’t even swallow. What was Terupt thinking? Things were definitely better with the gang now. Ever since learning about the budget, we had come together, no questions asked. But Anna and I still weren’t back to where we were before things fell apart.
I watched her get up from her scrapbooking table. She walked over to Danielle, who handed her the paper design, and then she came over to me.
“Huh-huh-hi,” I croaked.
“Hi,” she said.
I stood there on my weak legs staring at her, full of more nerves than I had before any wrestling match.
“Aren’t you going to help me cut my na
me out?” she asked after a minute of me not moving or saying anything.
“What? Oh, yeah,” I said.
She giggled.
I took the template from her, and as I did, my fingers brushed against hers and sent a jolt of electricity racing through my core. I taped the paper onto a block of pine. Then I showed Anna the saw and explained the safety features to her. Dad’s number-one rule was always “Safety first.” After giving her the rundown, I demonstrated how to use it—safely—by making a cut alongside the first letter A in her name. Then I handed her the tool—carefully—so that my fingers brushed up against hers again.
I watched her getting started, and kept watching her. I wasn’t even looking at the wood or her cuts. I couldn’t take my eyes from the side of her face.
“Jeffrey, are you going to help her or just stare at her all day?” Dad said. “You’re liable to cut one of your fingers off if you don’t start paying attention.”
Dad’s teasing had me turning beet red, almost as bad as if I’d tried putting hair dye all over my chin. I looked down and noticed that Anna had the blade twisting. It was about to break. I took ahold of the saw—with my hands wrapping around hers—and helped her back it out of the wood so that we could start the cut again. I felt Anna’s warm breath against my cheek when she giggled this time.
Together, over the next several minutes, we managed to cut her beautiful name out. Those were the best minutes I’d had all year.
“Thank you, Jeffrey,” Anna said when we were all done. “Everyone’s going to love your station today.”
I nodded, not knowing what to say. She turned, starting back toward her table, and that was when I found my voice. “Anna.”
“Yeah?” she said, stopping and looking at me.
“Um, well, so next weekend is our last wrestling tournament. I have this big match, and I was hoping you might come and watch. It’s at Perry Falls, which isn’t too far from here, and Asher will be there.”
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