Resisting the Rebel

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  This had gone from annoying to pissing her off. She wasn’t in the mood for J.T.’s bossiness today. “J.T., what are you talking about? We don’t have any plans. I’ll see you after lunch, but right now I’m going with Gus.”

  Gus stepped closer, putting an arm around her shoulders. “She’s right, J.T. Take a chill pill and we’ll see you later.”

  J.T. looked furious, which made no sense, but she was so distracted by Gus’s arm around her shoulders she was having a hard time focusing on J.T. So maybe this wasn’t a just-friends lunch? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but it was weird, almost like she was being disloyal to Caleb, which was stupid. Her phone buzzed in her jeans pocket, and she pulled it out.

  Caf. ASAP.

  Cammie. What was going on? Why was everyone acting so weird?

  Gus pulled her toward the exit, his grip tightening around her shoulders. “Later, J.T.” He pushed through the door, tugging Mandy along next to him.

  “Wait.” She blinked in the bright sunshine as they stood on the steps. “Maybe I should check to make sure everything’s okay.”

  Gus dropped his arm from her shoulders and rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. J.T.’s just being possessive. I told you he doesn’t like me much anymore.” His face crumpled, looking like a little boy who’d just lost his favorite toy. “Come on, Mandy. I really need a friend today.”

  She hesitated briefly, then put her hand on the railing and took a step down. She’d turned her paper in to Spriggs first thing, darting into his classroom before going to her homeroom, eager to get the essay out of her binder. She should celebrate turning the paper in, and she could do that with Gus.

  Not Caleb, even though it was because of him she thought she had a shot at getting a decent grade, for once.

  …

  Caleb stood in the guys’ bathroom, staring at the costume still in the package. J.T. had told him to take it out and iron it last night, but he’d refused. He had to maintain some dignity.

  The door burst open and J.T. flew inside, eyes wide and hair sticking up. “Mayday, Red Ranger!”

  Caleb frowned at him. “What the hell, dude? I don’t need a hair and makeup guy.”

  J.T. blinked and almost smiled. “Actually, not a bad idea. But we have more important things to worry about. Do not put on that costume.”

  “Best idea you’ve ever had,” Caleb said, then his gut clenched. “Why not?”

  J.T. swallowed and started peeking in the stalls.

  “I already checked. No one’s here.”

  “Okay.” J.T. nodded like he needed to bolster himself. “So the thing is…”

  “She refuses to sit at my table, right? That’s okay. I can do it…wherever, I guess.”

  J.T. bit his lip, looking agonized. “It’s…worse than that. She just left campus for lunch.”

  Caleb frowned. “By herself?”

  J.T. shook his head, and Caleb saw the answer in his eyes. “With Gus?”

  Shit. He threw the costume on the floor. “I told you this was a stupid idea. I’m out of here.” He pushed past J.T., out the door, and down the hallway.

  Mandy was right. He belonged in his world, and she belonged in hers. He was done with this crap, all of it.

  If she wanted the Octo-Gus, she could have him.

  …

  Gus and Mandy sat at a corner table in the fast-food restaurant, which was packed with other kids from school. She noticed one girl glaring daggers at them, a girl she didn’t know. Maybe a sophomore? She glanced at Gus, who seemed oblivious as he dipped fries in ketchup.

  “So,” he said, “you and Torrs split, huh?”

  Her hand holding a forkful of salad paused halfway to her mouth. “Yeah,” she finally said, wondering when people would tire of the gossip and stop asking her about it. She’d fended off a lot of questions this morning, mostly from her cheer friends, who’d been sort of weird and giggly when they asked about it, asking if there wasn’t a chance they’d get back together.

  Gus shoved the fries in his mouth, reminding her of Reg and how gross he was sometimes. She frowned and refocused on her wilted salad.

  “What’s up with homecoming then?”

  She felt her cheeks flame. He wasn’t asking her, was he? Because if so, this was kind of a weird way to do it. She glanced up, meeting his blue-eyed gaze. He blinked, smiling innocently.

  “I, uh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just…stay home.”

  He frowned. “You don’t want to do that. You planned the dance, didn’t you?”

  She shrugged. “The seventies theme was my idea, but a whole lot of people planned it together.” She hesitated. Maybe…maybe…it was a crazy idea, but what if she asked Gus? They were friends, and yeah she maybe sort of still had a crush on him, or…maybe not, but it would be better than going as a fifth wheel with J.T. and Cammie and their boyfriends.

  “Are you…” she began, and cleared her throat, feeling shy. “Do you, um…”

  He smiled in a way that made her heart speed up a tiny bit. Not nearly as much as with Caleb, but she couldn’t think about him right now.

  “I don’t have a date either, not since Kay dumped me.” His expression shifted, like he was remembering something really sad, and Mandy wanted to tell him it would be okay, that Kay was a jerk, but she didn’t want to make him feel worse, so instead she just nodded.

  “There should be a reject homecoming,” Gus said, swirling his fry in his ketchup but not looking at her. “For losers like me.” He glanced up. “Not you, I didn’t mean that. Torrs was an idiot to break up with you.”

  Mandy blinked, feeling her cheeks heat. “He didn’t, I mean, it was…mutual, I guess.”

  Gus tilted his head, studying her. “Well, I always thought you were too good for him. He’s kind of an asshole.”

  Mandy felt her whole body tense up. It was one thing for her to call Caleb an asshole, but hearing someone else say it, someone she thought of as a friend…it was weird. Even Cammie and J.T. hadn’t done that thing where they totally took her side and rejected Caleb. Instead they were still hanging out with him, which confused her. And sort of pissed her off. And, oddly, made her a tiny bit happy, because he needed friends.

  But what was she supposed to do with that? How could they all be friends together, if she and Caleb weren’t dating? Fake dating. Whatever. And why weren’t they being nice to Gus? They’d been friends with him long before Caleb. She frowned and stabbed her salad, wondering if they would turn on her one day, too.

  “What would you do if someone asked you?” Gus asked, twirling his cup between his hands.

  She glanced at him, trying to recall what they’d been talking about before her mind wandered down the rabbit hole of Caleb.

  “To homecoming,” he clarified. “What would you do if someone asked you? It’s sort of last minute and everything, since it’s Saturday. But what would you say?”

  They stared at each other, and she wondered if he was saying what she thought he was. “I…don’t know,” she finally said, because it was true. “I guess it would depend on who it was.”

  Gus nodded and took a bite of his burger, chewing slowly, seeming to have lost interest in the conversation. Okay, maybe he wasn’t sending her coded messages after all. She turned to stare out the window.

  Staying home on Saturday was sounding better and better.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  We Will Rock You

  Tuesday, October 4

  Caleb stood at his locker ready to bolt for the day when Spriggs approached him, eyes narrowed behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

  “Mr. Torrs. I understand you helped Ms. Pennington with her Catcher in the Rye essay, is that correct?”

  A flash of apprehension shot up Caleb’s spine as he faced his teacher. “Yeah.” He shrugged, wondering what this was about, then he realized the paper was due yesterday. His stomach knotted with worry for Mandy.

  “I’d like you to come with me. I have a few questions for both of you.”

&n
bsp; “Now?” Caleb asked as the warning flames increased along his spine.

  “Yes, now. Ms. Pennington is waiting in my classroom.” He spun on his heel and stalked away, clearly expecting Caleb to follow.

  Crap. This wasn’t good. Maybe he’d been wrong to encourage Mandy to go ahead with her honest reader response. But that was bullshit, because Spriggs shouldn’t penalize her for that. Caleb slammed his locker shut and followed Spriggs to his classroom, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do.

  Mandy perched on a desk, her purple dress reminding him of a spring tulip. She tugged nervously at her mom’s necklace, and Caleb wanted to cross the room to her. But he couldn’t. Instead, he stared at her until she met his gaze, defiant and nervous, that crazy combination that did something to his gut. And his heart.

  Spriggs moved behind the desk and grabbed the paper, holding it out like it was poisonous. Caleb saw a giant red “B–” circled on the top. Exactly what she needed. He shot her a questioning look, but now she was staring at the floor, biting her lip.

  “All right, children,” Spriggs said. “Tell me who really wrote this essay.”

  Anger shot through Caleb fast and hot, lighting him up like a missile needing a target.

  “I did,” Mandy said, her voice high and quivery.

  Damn it. Caleb ground his teeth. She needed to sound tough, confident. She couldn’t give this asshole any more room for doubt.

  Spriggs turned his attention to Caleb. “Is this true, Caleb? I know you were…tutoring Ms. Pennington.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t write this for her? Granted it’s not your usual style, but it’s suspiciously coherent.” He studied Mandy through narrowed eyes. “Quite unlike your usual work, Miss Pennington.”

  The missile of anger inside of Caleb threatened to ignite. It took every ounce of his self-control not to leap across the desk, but instead he breathed through his nose, fists clenched at his sides. He needed one of Mandy’s stupid mantras but all he came up with was Don’t hurt your teacher.

  “I wrote it, Mr. Spriggs,” Mandy said.

  She sounded less wobbly now. In fact, she sounded almost as pissed as he felt. He shot her a sideways glance, and she met his gaze. For a long moment their eyes locked in unspoken conversation, and it was almost like their breakup never happened.

  Don’t go ballistic, demon.

  I won’t if you won’t, Disco.

  But I wrote the paper!

  I know, babe. But we’ve gotta stay calm.

  Mr. Spriggs snapped his fingers in Mandy’s face and Caleb was seconds away from breaking his silent promise to Mandy.

  “Prove it,” Spriggs said.

  Mandy blinked, refocusing on Spriggs while Caleb reminded himself Spriggs was not a punching bag.

  “What?” she asked. “What do you mean, prove it?”

  “I’m going to quiz you about the book.” He shot Caleb a warning glare. “And you keep quiet, Mr. Torrs.”

  Shit. Caleb wished he could brain dump everything he knew about this book into Mandy’s beautiful, spazzy squirrel brain, because Spriggs would do his damnedest to trip her up.

  Mandy tugged at her crab necklace. “Um, okay. I—uh—go ahead. Ask me anything.”

  Caleb closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what deity he believed in, but for the first time in a long time he sent up a plea to whoever might be on duty.

  …

  Mandy’s pulse pounded in her ears. She knew she hadn’t cheated, but with Spriggs challenging her she felt guilty anyway. She glanced at Caleb, shocked to see how worried he looked.

  She turned away, because she needed to focus on Spriggs, not Caleb. I can do this. The universe supports truth, justice, and the American way. Wait, what? She shook her head slightly to force herself to focus.

  Spriggs leaned against his desk. “In your essay, you took issue with Holden Caulfield’s treatment of women. But how do you justify that statement when he loves his sister so much?”

  Relief washed over Mandy. This was the main reason she hated the book, and she could rant about it forever if she had to. She and Caleb had debated it hotly that day in the coffee shop.

  “Phoebe was the only female he treated decently!” she exclaimed. “He’s horrible to everyone else. He lies to that mom on the subway, telling her that her son is so popular at school when really everyone hates him. And when he goes to that nightclub and dances with those women from out of town? All he talks about is how ugly and stupid they are!”

  Mr. Spriggs’s face pinched with a frown. “One could argue that—” he began, but Mandy cut him off, her confidence quickly overtaking her anxiety.

  “And he takes Sally on a date but complains about her the whole time! How her voice sounds, how phony she is, how stupid. He only asks her out because she’s pretty and he wants to, uh, kiss her or whatever. He doesn’t respect her at all.”

  “What about the little girl in the park?” Mr. Spriggs snapped.

  Mandy frowned, trying to recall the scene. “Oh, when he’s looking for his sister? And he helps the girl with her skates? What, like he deserves a medal for being nice one time?”

  She glanced at Caleb, who gave her a thumbs-up, his lips curving into the smirk she loved. God, she wanted to…to…she couldn’t think about what she wanted because now wasn’t the time.

  Mr. Spriggs didn’t look happy. “Did you notice any other times he was nice to children?”

  Mandy sighed. “Like when he showed those boys the mummies in the museum? Or when he tried to erase the graffiti at Phoebe’s school so the kids wouldn’t be scarred for life by an f-bomb?”

  Caleb snorted, and Spriggs shot him a glare.

  “And the little boy singing the song, the one the title’s based on.” Mandy was so fired up she wasn’t nervous at all anymore. “I know what you want me to say. That Holden was good to little kids, that they were innocent and he thought he was their protector. That he was still devastated by his brother’s death.”

  Spriggs sighed. “So why didn’t you put any of that in your essay?” He shook his head. “So unfocused. An undisciplined mind,” he muttered.

  “Because those parts weren’t enough for me to love this stupid book!” She glanced at Caleb again, but this time he frowned, giving her a subtle thumbs-down. “He’s still awful to girls, and he calls gay guys perverts and flits, and he’s so condescending! He thinks everyone who goes to the movies is an idiot! He makes fun of his brother because he’s a screenwriter instead of writing books nobody wants to read, nobody but Holden.”

  Spriggs scowled, and Mandy guessed he had his own unfinished great American novel stashed in a drawer somewhere.

  “I think you’ve missed most of the point of this novel, Ms. Pennington.”

  Mandy felt like her head was about to explode. “Then why did you give me a B minus?”

  “Because your response to the book, while wrong, was typical for today’s modern reader, and you did manage to back up your…opinion…with examples from the book.” He brushed imaginary lint from his shirt.

  Caleb made a noise that didn’t sound human.

  “How can my response be wrong?” Mandy demanded. “How can anything a reader feels when reading a book be wrong? You can’t force people to love a book just because you do!” She whirled on Caleb. “You tried to make me love the book, too, but it didn’t work.”

  His head snapped back like she’d slapped him, and she was hit with a stab of guilt. That wasn’t fair, not after all the time he’d spent helping her with her essay. She tugged at her hair and closed her eyes. Breathe. All things work together for good. Even bad things? she wanted to ask the universe, because suddenly things felt really bad—Spriggs questioning her intelligence, and her lashing out at Caleb when he’d shown up to back her up, even though they weren’t…whatever…anymore.

  Caleb cleared his throat. “Mandy wrote this paper herself. I just helped her with the structure. But all of the ideas—and they’re solid ideas, by the way—those are hers.” His lips curved
in a crooked smile. “Just because she doesn’t like the book doesn’t mean she didn’t get it.”

  She stared across the room, her gaze locking with his. She wanted to run to him, jump in his arms, have him twirl around while he kissed her, just like in a movie. But instead she took another breath and mouthed him a silent “thank you” instead. He tilted his head in acknowledgment, but his smile faded as he looked at Spriggs, who was scowling.

  Mandy squared her shoulders and faced Spriggs head-on. She’d organized Spirit Week. She’d had a big role in planning the homecoming dance. She’d taken care of gran. She’d done a great job with the little kids at Build-a-Buddy. She could handle a crabby old teacher.

  “Okay, so I’m not an honor student, Mr. Spriggs. But I could be, if teachers like you gave me a chance. I read all the time, did you know that? Not the type of books you’d approve of, but still.” Some of them have big words and everything, she thought, but she kept that part inside. She glanced at Caleb, whose eyes sparked—with admiration, she hoped—but she wasn’t sure.

  “A lot of people have ADHD—really successful people like Justin Timberlake and Michael Phelps. Will Smith.” She paused, wondering if he was too old to get her references. “Einstein had dysgraphia, just like me.” She shot Caleb a conspiratorial smile and held his gaze, remembering their late night text convos.

  The fire of determination built inside her, banked and fueled by Spriggs’s outraged expression. She wasn’t scared. Not anymore, because none of it mattered when you did your best but people still didn’t believe in you. She took a breath, deciding to go for broke.

  “Mr. Spriggs—you have to give people a chance. Not just your star students like Caleb.” She glanced at him and was momentarily stunned by the way he looked at her. She cleared her throat. “Give students like me a chance, too. Please. You act like it’s our fault if we can’t process the way you think we should. But our brains don’t all work the same way. And that doesn’t make us wrong. Or…or…lesser than.”

  Spriggs blinked, looking momentarily off balance. “I never—”

  Caleb stepped away from the wall where he’d been leaning. “I think…” He hesitated, and Mandy watched him run his hand through his hair, his glorious rock star hair that she really, really wanted to touch again. “Look,” he said, “it’s obvious that Mandy wrote this paper, right? She just told you all about the book. She obviously read it, and her opinions are totally valid.”