“Very good.” Mr. Thompson smiles, then addresses the class. “Abby’s right. The mockingbird is a metaphor for innocence. It does nothing to harm and, in fact, only brings pleasure to others, so hurting it—killing it—is the worst kind of wrong a person can do. Does anyone else wish to add to that?”
The classroom remains quiet.
“Anyone disagree?” he asks.
Still nobody answers.
Mr. Thompson’s face flushes again. “You people need to sit up and pay attention. This is important. This isn’t just a good book—it’s a life lesson I’m trying to give you for free. Five bonus points to Ms. Lunde for paying attention in class. The rest of you have an assignment due tomorrow: you’re to write a two-page, typed and double-spaced paper, giving me one example of a ‘mockingbird’ today. It can be an example from literature, television, real life—whatever, so long as it fits within the parameters of the description we’ve discussed today. Tomorrow, I’ll expect you ready to discuss through chapter twenty, and I will not accept a repeat of today’s lack of participation. Abby, you’re exempt from the paper. I would also caution each of you to pay close attention to this theme as you continue reading. I’m giving you a heads-up right now—this is a major theme of one of the greatest books in literature, and you will not pass this class without understanding. Now get started.”
The room erupts in groans, and my body tingles with mortification. Why did I have to open my big mouth? If I’d kept it shut, I’d be in as much trouble as everyone else but at least nobody would be mad at me. I bury my head in my book, but I’m not reading; I’m hiding. I turn the pages mindlessly until the bell rings at the end of class.
“Abby. Would you mind staying behind a minute?” Mr. Thompson asks as I collect my books.
I shoot Zach a look that says, “Please don’t leave without me,” then turn back to Mr. Thompson.
“Abby,” he says when the last student leaves. “I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that. I realized afterward it wasn’t fair to you.”
“That’s okay.” My face flushes. “I can understand why you were frustrated.”
“I was, but that’s still no excuse. About the book—you have an excellent grasp of the themes.”
“Yes, well—I’ve read it a few times.”
“I figured. I knew the second I asked the question you had the answer, but you held back for some reason. It’s a great book.”
“It’s more than that!” Excitement bubbles in my chest. “It’s like an instruction manual on how to live life.”
He grins. “Elaborate.”
“Well, Atticus isn’t just giving life lessons to Jem and Scout, he’s teaching all of us. He says you don’t understand a person until you climb into his skin and walk around in it for a while, and that’s true. You have no idea what someone else is going through until you’ve lived it—until you put yourself in their shoes.”
“That’s exactly right. It’s actually one of the most important lessons from the book I hope to teach my students. If we can walk around in the shoes of others, so to speak, then we can better understand what motivates their actions.”
“So, it’s like learning empathy?” Zach asks.
Mr. Thompson turns to Zach. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, but yeah—it’s exactly like learning empathy. When you can understand another person, it’s easier to figure out why they do things. And if you can do that then it’s easier to forgive their actions.”
Somehow it doesn’t feel like we’re talking about To Kill a Mockingbird anymore. I tiptoe back through the last several months in my head, trying to remember if I’ve tried understanding anything from Mom’s point of view. Would it make a difference if I did? If I could understand why she cheated on Nick, would I stop being mad?
CHAPTER TWELVE
“ZACH!” AMBER RACES TOWARD US, WEAVING HER TINY BODY BETWEEN OTHER STUDENTS. REACHING OUR side, she throws her arms around him in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you!”
“Hey, Amber. How was school?” he asks.
“Good!” Her shoulders deflate. “But I have bad news.”
My heart drops. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, I should really tell Zach first, but since you’re here, I’ll tell you, too.” She turns to Zach, her lips drawn down in a frown. “I’m sorry, Zach, but I have to break up with you.”
Zach clutches his chest. “Ouch! That hurts! What’d I do wrong?”
“Nothing.” She covers a giggle with her hand. “But kason and me are back together on account of ’cause he can play with me at recess and you’re too old.”
“Ow!” He clutches his chest a second time, this time falling to his knees. Amber’s giggles echo through the halls, and I bite my lip to hold back my own laughter.
“We can still be friends!” she assures him. “And I know Sister really likes you, so you can be her boyfriend now!”
Zach sits on the floor, his legs bent and his head hanging low between his knees. His shoulders shake as tears of mirth stream down both sides of his face. Heat creeps from my neck to my cheeks. That’s it—I’m going to strangle her!
“One step at a time.” Zach snorts out a laugh and pulls himself to standing. “We still haven’t gotten your sister on a first date yet.”
“Oh, but she will now that I’m not standin’ in her way!” Amber grins and takes his hand as we walk to the parking lot. My face flames, but I bite my tongue. If I engage her, she’ll never stop.
We climb into Zach’s car and it’s only a few minutes before he pulls into a space right in front of the newspaper office. He lets the engine idle while Amber piles out and I collect my things.
“Sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” he asks.
“Nah—I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
“Okay, then. See you at the game tonight?”
“I’ll be there!”
Zach’s dimple deepens in his cheek. “Don’t forget to check about this weekend, okay?”
“I won’t.”
He nods, then catches Amber’s eye. “See you later, shortcake!”
She rushes past me, jumps back into the car, and throws her arms around Zach’s neck. “Thanks for not being mad. You’re the best ex-boyfriend ever.”
Zach laughs, then turns his attention to me. He winks. “See you tonight, Abby.”
I watch him drive away. When his car disappears from sight, I take Amber’s hand and walk into the The Daily building. I’m nervous, yet excited, for so many reasons.
“HOW’D SCHOOL GO today?” Nick asks, setting his tray on the table.
We’re seated in the same seats we’ve staked as our own this entire week. On the menu tonight: spaghetti, tossed salad in vinaigrette dressing, and garlic toast. They must’ve found the butter.
“It was good. Zach asked me to Homecoming next weekend,” I say.
Mom flashes me a compassionate frown. “I hope you let him down gently.”
“Actually, no. I told him I could go, so long as you two don’t have any issues with it.”
Mom takes a breath as though gearing up for another fight. “Okay—catch me up on what I’m missing because you know we can’t afford to buy you a dress, and I can’t even begin to imagine how you plan to manage the pickup and drop-off situation.”
“Well.” I take a breath. I promised Nick I’d try with Mom and I meant it. Blowing out my breath, I explain our plans then wait while Mom and Nick process all I’ve said.
“That’s…wow,” Mom says. “You’ve certainly figured out the details. I still don’t think this Zach is a good idea.”
Anger rushes through my veins. I tried—I really tried. I open my mouth to snipe an angry comment, but Nick interrupts before I can get out the first word.
“Sounds like you have a plan,” he says. “I’m really proud of you, Abs.”
Mom’s eyes swing to his and she shoots him an expression I don’t need a decoder ring to translate: “Seriously?”
I smile, knowing I’ve won th
is round. But then Mom opens round two.
“So…okay,” she says. “Who is this other boy—Josh? Why’s he getting ready with the girls?”
Angry heat climbs to my cheeks. I have no idea what Mom will think of Josh, but I won’t let her belittle him.
“Josh is gay.” My voice is strong and unapologetic. “He’s getting ready with us because that’s what friends do—and he’s our friend.”
Mom blows out a breath. “C’mon, Abby. It was a simple question. You don’t have to be so prickly and defensive every time I open my mouth. Do you really think I’m so narrow-minded I would hold your friend’s sexuality against him?”
My shoulders slump. “No. It’s just…”
My voice trails off because I have no idea what I intended to say. Before I can find the words, Nick stands and takes Amber’s hand.
“How about we go say hi to your new friend and her baby?” he asks Amber.
Her eyes light up and she grins. In a heartbeat, she’s out of her chair and already seated next to the teen mom and her baby, her mouth moving in excited chatter.
Nick catches my eye and he lifts an eyebrow. “Don’t forget our agreement, Abs.”
Mom’s gaze moves between us, then Nick follows Amber and sits across from the teen mom.
“What’s that all about?” Mom asks.
I shrug. “Nothing.”
She lets it go and, for the next few minutes, we sit across from each other without speaking. Mom catches my eye and waits until I don’t look away.
“What?” I ask.
“Abby, I have to be honest. I don’t have a problem with your friend, but I’m worried about you. You’ve had a rough time these last six months or so, and I’m sorry.” She holds up a hand, preventing my interruption. “No—let me finish. You know I take full responsibility for the hell you’ve lived through. If I could hit a rewind button, I would. But I can’t. What I can do is try to keep it from happening to you again.”
“Mom—”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I need to finish, okay?”
I nod.
“Now I’m worried about your friendship with Josh, even more than I’m worried about whether a romantic relationship with Zach is a good idea. Does the rest of the school know Josh is gay and, if so, how do they treat him? I just—I can’t stand the idea of you being on the other end of another situation that brings you pain.”
I grind my teeth and count to ten. I want to rail at her—to tell her it’s none of her business—but her eyes hold nothing but love and concern. I decide to take Nick’s advice and start adulting. I breathe deeply and think through my words as I say them.
“Mom, I know you’re concerned. I’m fine. Josh is fine. Everybody knows he’s gay, and nobody cares. And even if they didn’t know, he’s my friend and I wouldn’t abandon him to save my own skin like Emma and Sarah did to me. But more than that, even if people didn’t know—if it getting out were to cause a scandal and put me in the same position as last time—it would be completely different.”
“How?”
“Because last time I wasn’t given a choice. I was part of the collateral damage of your actions. This time, I’m choosing. This time, if I become a social outcast, it’s because I’m choosing to stand beside my friend.”
Mom’s eyes glaze with tears. “But you’ve only known him a few days.”
“I know, but it doesn’t feel like that. If I learned anything from what happened, it’s that I would never do to my friends what my old friends did to me.”
Tears spill over Mom’s lashes and she wipes them away with a napkin. “I really am sorry, Abby. I can’t even explain my actions because I’m still not sure I completely understand them myself. But I hate this constant fighting between us. I hate that you hate me. I would do anything to change that and earn your forgiveness. Is there anything I can do to get us back where we were before all this happened?”
She reaches out to touch my hand, which rests on the table between us. On reflex, I snatch my hand back and swipe at the tears spilling over my lashes, but it’s a futile effort.
“I don’t hate you, Mom,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “I thought I did—sometimes I say I do—but I really don’t. I’m just so angry and hurt that sometimes it feels like hate. I mean, you spent my first sixteen years cautioning my behavior and reminding me the importance of honor and morals, and then you—it’s like you didn’t believe the rules you were teaching me. What you did made a mockery of everything you’d taught me. So I can’t help it. I’m pissed.”
“I’m really sorry, Abs. I’m trying to make it better.”
I nod. “I know you are, Mom. I just need more time. The agreement Nick mentioned? He wants me to patch things up with you because my anger is hurting all of us. And he’s right—sometimes I’m so mad I can’t breathe. So I’m trying to let it go. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you, but maybe we can turn to a fresh page and try to move forward.”
Mom reaches for my hands again, and this time I allow her to pull them toward the center of the table. “I’d really like that, Abby. Thank you.”
Leaving my hands in hers, I nod but don’t answer. I can’t. I’m two seconds away from an ugly cry. Instead, I gulp hard and offer Mom a tentative smile. Her eyes shine back at me through tears, and I know she understands.
We’ve said all that can be said for now, so we tuck into our meals and eat quietly. The tension has lifted and my heart is lighter than it’s been since—well, since I can’t remember when. There’s something about letting go of anger that’s like losing the weight of heavy cinder blocks. Our silence must be Nick’s cue, because only a few minutes pass before he and Amber return to our table.
“Corbin is so sweet,” Amber says, taking her seat next to me. “Kat says he’s gonna be as big as me pretty soon, and then we can play together.”
Mom smiles at Amber, then meets Nick’s eyes in another one of those conversations where no words are exchanged. To Amber she says, “It’ll be a little while, honey. He’s still tiny.”
Nick twirls his spaghetti on his fork, then takes a bite and chews slowly before swallowing. “Anything else happen at school today?”
I smile. “I almost forgot. My vocal music teacher wants me to audition for the solo part in the Fall Concert. Zach said he’d help me find a song. He’s invited me to his house this weekend to work on it.”
Mom swallows hard and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. To her credit, though, she doesn’t say a word.
“What did you tell him?” Nick asks.
“Just that I’d need to ask, but I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Will his parents be home?” Mom asks.
“I guess so. I mean—I didn’t ask, but he mentioned me meeting his mom.”
She nods and lifts a questioning eyebrow at Nick.
“I don’t see a problem with it,” he says.
I smile my thanks. “I’ll let him know when I see him tonight.”
“Tonight?” Mom asks.
Nick turns to Mom. “I forgot to tell you. I gave Abby permission to go to the football game tonight.”
“Oh.” Mom’s eyebrows crinkle like there’s more she wants to say but she resists.
“So what about you two?” I say. “Any news today?”
“Actually, yes.” Nick nods. “The Dorothy Day House should be able to take us on Monday. It’s first come, first served, so we need to get there as soon as the doors open. With luck, this’ll be our last weekend in the van for at least two weeks. Plus, I got a part-time job as night janitor at the Episcopal Church.”
“That’s great!” I say, meaning it. It’s not a full-time job and it won’t bring in a lot of money, but it’s one step closer to where we need to be.
Mom nudges Amber. “You’ve been quiet. Everything okay?”
“Yup!” Amber smiles a toothless grin. “I broke up with Zach today, but he took it okay.”
“Who’s Zach?” Nick asks.
Amber rol
ls her eyes. “Sister’s boyfriend.”
Mom chokes on her water. “What?”
“Long story, Mom,” I say, as a genuine smile stretches across my face.
“SORRY I’M LATE,” I tell Josh as I arrive at the football stadium. I’m only five minutes late, but punctuality is one of my compulsions.
“Meh.” He shrugs. “No worries. Jasmine and Tink are late, as always.”
“Thank goodness. I hate making people wait, but I don’t mind waiting on others.”
“So the news is all over school. Are you ready for the attention you’re about to get for going to Homecoming with Zach?”
“What do you mean?” Dread settles in my stomach.
“Sweetie—” Josh smiles. “Zach’s a great guy, but you’re about to go under the microscope. He doesn’t breathe without the whole school talking about it.”
“Oh great. That’s the last thing I need.”
“You like him, though, right?”
“Well, yeah—he’s really sweet.”
Josh shrugs. “Then don’t worry about it. You’ll get lots of attention for a while—maybe a couple of weeks—but they’ll get sick of it soon enough. Just be patient and ride it out.”
Tera’s bright-orange, classic Volkswagen Beetle pulls into the parking lot and emits a scraping sound as its undercarriage grazes the parking bumper. Josh’s eyes meet mine and we burst into laughter.
“And she was worried about crossing the jumper cables?” he says.
Wendy and Tera pile out and Josh shouts out to them. “I thought you two would never get here!”
Wendy rolls her eyes. “Tera’s car wouldn’t start again.”
“Well, at least I have a car, loser!” Tera makes an L-formation with her right hand over her forehead. “It’s certainly good enough for you to bum rides in when it’s working, since you don’t even have one.”
“Fair enough,” Wendy agrees.
We enter through the main gates and find seats in the front row, right behind the players. Zach stands in front of me in his dark green number nine jersey. Next to him is Scott and a man I assume is their coach.
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