#GoodGirlBadBoy

by Yesenia Vargas

  I didn’t get it.

  But it was okay. We were here to help out at the nursing home. I needed an elective credit, as did he. It would be all business. I was sure he wouldn’t even want to talk to me, if his current facial expression was any indication.

  Mrs. Porter went on to explain the daily schedule at the nursing home, the different couple of wings, which one we’d be in, and some general guidelines we had to follow. Signing in and signing out. Making sure the front door always stayed closed because someone could get out and wander around. If they had Alzheimer’s or something and didn’t realize where they were, there was a good chance they’d try to leave.

  So many things I had never even considered.

  My grandparents had died when I was a baby, so I’d never even thought about all this stuff, but I couldn’t even imagine what some of these elderly people went through. It broke my heart.

  Mrs. Porter stood up, and I did the same. Emerson reluctantly so. “Okay, so you two will be in the elder day care wing. Right now, we’re doing arts and crafts. In twenty minutes, we’ll put on a movie for them. And then they get free time to play board games, knit, or anything like that until they’re picked up.”

  She led us to the arts and crafts room of the elder day care wing. A single middle-aged woman with short hair walked around repeatedly explaining today’s craft. It reminded me of a kindergarten classroom. Except these weren’t confused and raucous five-year-olds. They were confused and quiet eighty-year-olds.

  “I’ll be around if you two need me. Don’t be afraid to ask questions,” Mrs. Porter said before taking off.

  Without waiting to see what Emerson would do, I found an empty seat at a table nearby and sat down. Four blank and wrinkled faces stared back at me. “Hi, everyone,” I said with a kind smile. “I’m Harper. I’m a volunteer from the high school. Can I join you?”

  An old lady with wrinkles covering every inch of her face and wisps of snow-white hair leaned forward. “What was that? You’re gonna have to speak up! My hearing’s not what it used to be.”

  “Oh, um,” I began. “I’m Harper,” I said, my hand on my chest.

  But still she didn’t seem to hear me.

  “What!” she shouted.

  “Harper!” I said.

  “WHAT?!” she said, loud enough for the entire room to hear, if they had been a decade or so younger.

  Someone took the seat beside me, and I turned to see another lady, much younger looking, beside me. “Don’t mind her,” she said. “She won’t hear you no matter how loud you yell. Harper,” she added with a wink. “I’m Ellie, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Ellie,” I sighed in relief at finding someone who could hear me.

  “Relax, sweetheart,” she said. “This isn’t high school. Everyone around here is pretty nice. Except for me,” she said, cackling.

  I laughed nervously along.

  “But I like you. You seem like a good girl.”

  Funny how often I’d been hearing that lately.

  I observed Ms. Ellie. She was definitely the liveliest of the group, talking and laughing out loud several times throughout the craft.

  I made my way around the table, helping several residents with the cutting and gluing of their felt picture frame.

  While I did, I observed Emerson sitting awkwardly across the room, his back to me. One of the ladies beside him talked on and on, not caring that he never said a single word back.

  The lady on his other side poked him with her glue stick until he sat up and helped her glue her decorations on. I stifled a laugh and went back to my own table.

  Ellie talked my ear off until it was time for the movie. “Oh, I hate this one,” she said. But she found a seat near the front anyway.

  Ms. Nancy, the nurse, came up to me. “We usually do their snacks at this time.”

  I followed behind her. “I’d be happy to help.”

  We served cheese crackers for those who still had their teeth—or dentures—and Jell-O for those who didn’t.

  Ms. Nancy handed the plastic cups to Emerson. “Mind passing these out?”

  He took them without a word and left.

  “Not really a talker, that one,” she said quietly.

  I shook my head and stared after Emerson. “I don’t think so.”

  After thirty minutes of the movie, half the nursing home was snoring, but we gently woke them up for free time.

  Ms. Nancy checked the clock on the wall. “Do you two mind assisting me? I need to get everyone into the main room.”

  “I’d love to,” I said.

  She smiled at me. “Oh, having you two around is going to be a huge help.”

  My heart grew about two sizes.

  We made sure everyone made it back to the main room and got them situated.

  Ms. Ellie grabbed a game of checkers and sat down to play with a man who looked a few years older than her. I waved goodbye to her, then headed to the front to sign out.

  Emerson was already there. “Glad that’s over,” he said.

  I did a double-take, not believing he was talking to me. “Oh, um, I thought it was fun. Beats doing math equations.”

  He shrugged. “Beats cleaning up litter alongside the road, I guess.” He grabbed his skateboard from a corner of the office, ready to leave.

  “Oh, um, I didn’t realize that was an elective, not that I would have picked that either,” I said, trying to recover.

  He turned back to me. “It wasn’t. Ms. Moreau said I could do my community service here instead of on the freeway if I showed up to summer school.”

  I nodded, thinking volunteering here beat community service. And juvenile detention too.

  “So you failed math and social studies too?” he said, still facing me.

  Surprised he was still talking to me, I replied, “Um, no, actually. I just moved here last semester, and three credits didn’t transfer. I kind of need them to graduate on time.”

  He seemed impressed by that, the fact that I wasn’t here because I had flunked. “Wow, so you actually want to be here.”

  I nodded slowly. “Um, kinda. I’d like to graduate,” I said with a laugh.

  “Oh,” he said. “I was hoping maybe you’d cover for me if I bailed tomorrow.”

  I blinked several times, my mouth open.

  He went on. “I mean, you can skip, too, if you want. If you were planning on bailing too. But they might figure out what we’re up to if neither of us show up.”

  I finally found my voice. “Uh, no, thanks. I really need these credits.” As much as I’d rather spend my days at home trying on makeup and watching rom-coms.

  Emerson shrugged. “I need these credits, too, but I also don’t want to spend my afternoons building puzzles and serving Jell-O.”

  I grabbed my backpack and followed him out the front door.

  By the time I went down the steps, he was already several yards away. The sound of his skateboard on the gray concrete reached my ears.

  According to my new schedule, I was going to be spending most of my day with the school bad boy.

  This was really shaping up to be an interesting summer. Deep down, I knew I should be careful around Emerson, but a bigger part of me lit up at the thought of spending time with him.

  Seven

  “You’re doing homework?” I heard from behind me.

  I turned to find Emerson looking over my shoulder with a smirk. My heart immediately sped up at the fact that he was standing so close to me, just inches away.

  He nodded at the math worksheet in front of me.

  “Um, yeah,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear and trying to focus once again on the math equation in front of me. It was movie time at the nursing home, and we had a good twenty minutes of free time. Of course, I was going to take advantage of the time to finish my homework.

  He sat down beside me, but instead of sitting down normally, he spun the chair around first and rested his arms on the back of the chair. “Do you always do y
our homework before you even get home?”

  I stared back at him, a little confused. “Do you prefer to do it at home?”

  He smiled, and I tried not to gasp upon watching his pearly whites revealed to me. “I prefer not to do it at all,” he whispered. Then he leaned back and crossed his arms.

  Finally understanding what he really meant, I said, “If you did, though, you might not be in summer school in the first place.” I couldn’t meet his gaze when I said that.

  “Ouch,” he said. “So you are capable of saying something a little mean.”

  I looked back up at him, and guilt flooded my stomach at the thought of him thinking I was being mean on purpose.

  “Fine,” he said, pulling a wrinkled sheet out of his backpack. It turned out to be the math homework due tomorrow. “I’ll let you be a good influence on me.”

  He glanced at my paper, and I covered it up. He burst out laughing. “I wasn’t trying to copy off of you. Geez. I just wanted to know your name.”

  “Oh,” I mumbled. I moved my hand.

  “Just kidding,” he said with a grin. “I already know your name. Harper. You seem to have this math thing down.”

  I turned my paper over this time. “Well, good luck copying off me now. But I’d happily help you figure it out, if you let me.”

  His eyes twinkled like he was in on some joke. “You’ll happily help me, huh?” he said. “Okay, Harper. How about you help me?”

  He slid his chair closer to me, and my heart rattled around in my chest like a wild horse.

  Slowly, I turned my paper over again so I could look at the problems.

  Emerson swept his hand through his hair, and my breath quickened. Why couldn’t I make sense of this math problem all of a sudden? The numbers may well have been hieroglyphics.

  “I kind of meant today,” he said.

  “Right,” said, exhaling. “Um, let’s start with this problem. I think the first thing you need to do is simplify.”

  By the end of the movie, our math homework was done, and I somehow hadn’t made a complete fool of myself in front of Emerson.

  “Thanks,” he said, shoving his homework back in his backpack. Then he stood up to help those in wheelchairs back to the common room.

  A few minutes later, while I built a puzzle with Ms. Ellie, he played a game of chess with an older gentleman.

  “Looks like we both have good taste,” Ms. Ellie said, giving me a wink.

  I blinked back hard at her, then I realized what she meant. Shaking my head furiously, I said, “Oh. No. I don’t—”

  “Honey, you don’t have to hide anything from me. There’s no shame in finding someone attractive. You’re young. Now’s the time to take risks when it comes to love. Oh, if I were only seventeen again…” Her eyes glittered, and her lips curled up into a smile. Ms. Ellie got this far-off look on her face like she was remembering something fun—and maybe a little reckless.

  I held back a grin and went back to the puzzle of the Eiffel Tower while she daydreamed of her past. Dozens of little pieces littered our small table, but I managed to find the one I needed. My triumphant glee brought Ms. Ellie back down to earth.

  “What was I saying?” she asked me. “Ah yes, being young and in love. Harper, you’ve got to live while you can. Before you know it, you’ll be old like me. Now, I’ve still got it,” she said, primping her dyed blonde hair, “but not everyone is this lucky. Don’t be afraid to tell a boy you like him.”

  My face felt hot, and I only hoped her loud voice hadn’t carried all the way across the room to Emerson. I didn’t need him thinking I liked him.

  Because I definitely didn’t like him.

  Ms. Ellie went on, talking about the right way to ask a boy out, and I tried to follow along.

  Meanwhile, I looked in Emerson’s direction. His attention was still on the chess game with Mr. Roberts, the senior citizen he seemed to like best. The only senior citizen here he seemed to like. Maybe because, like Emerson, he was pretty quiet, although his eyes were kind and bright.

  Emerson’s brows knit together in concentration as he stared down at the board and all its pieces. He moved a tall piece and said something to Mr. Roberts, who laughed. I couldn’t help but smile at their interaction.

  If I got to know Emerson and maybe become friends with him, that was different, way different than liking him. After all, we’d be spending a good part of our summer here at the nursing home. How could we not end up becoming friends?

  There wasn’t anything wrong with that, right? Just during summer school.

  “I’m not sure how I’d feel about working with old people,” Lena said, pursing her lips and aiming her eyes at the ceiling. “Don’t they fall asleep all the time?”

  I laughed, and the rest of the girls smiled. It had been over a week since they’d left me to fend for myself, but they were making good on their promise to stay in touch. “Sometimes, but they’re so sweet. I’m really loving it. I’d been hoping to volunteer somewhere this summer anyway, so I guess it worked out for the best.”

  Ella crossed her legs in front of her laptop. “I wish I could get school credit for playing with puzzles and listening to old people tell stories.”

  Rey gasped. “Me too! Oh, I’d love the chance to write stuff like that down. Can you imagine everything they’ve seen throughout their lives?”

  Her far-off look reminded me of Ms. Ellie. “Oh, you’d love it there, Rey. You should totally come with me when you get back. I definitely plan on volunteering on the weekends once school starts. You too, Ella.”

  Tori cleared her throat. “So who else is in this elective with you?”

  “Um, not a lot of people…Just one, actually. You’ll never believe it,” I said, wondering why talking about this made me a little nervous. “Everyone else went for P.E. or volunteering at the daycare down the street. But only me and Emerson ended up at the nursing home. No one else wanted to hang out there, I guess.”

  I played with a cookie crumb on my bed, evidence of my afternoon snack.

  Lena’s voice reached me loud and clear, even though she was a whole country away. “Wait, what?”

  Ella and Tori looked like their eyeballs might pop out of their sockets, and Rey’s mouth hung wide open.

  Lena’s shocked face filled my phone screen. “Did you say Emerson? And you’re just now telling us?”

  I shrugged. “It’s really not a big deal. We don’t even really talk,” I said. Other than doing our math homework together most days. That didn’t really count, did it?

  No one said anything for a moment, and I wondered if they believed me. “Anyway, he seems kind of nice. At least with the people at the nursing home. He definitely doesn’t get into fist fights there, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  The look on Lena’s face said that wasn’t quite what she was wondering, though.

  Ella pressed her lips together. “Yeah, everyone has a nice side.”

  Rey nodded. “Uh huh, no one’s all bad.”

  But they didn’t sound completely convinced.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, offering them a small smile. “We’re not friends or anything. Like I said, I barely talk to the guy. It’s just another class.”

  Even though it was really three classes.

  Tori nodded several times, appearing completely serious. “Uh huh.”

  Then Ella jumped in with a question for Rey about where her family was headed next, and I almost sighed out loud in relief at the change in topic.

  I hadn’t expected my friends to react like that just for mentioning Emerson’s name. Like they said, nobody was all bad, and maybe they had only ever seen this one side of Emerson.

  The way he helped Mr. Roberts from place to place around the nursing home and made sure nothing on the floor could make him fall. That said so much more about him.

  Or how he opened the little Jell-O containers for everyone without being asked.

  Everyone saw the side of him that was silent and brooding, bu
t Emerson was an iceberg. You’d be completely wrong if you thought that what was on the surface encompassed who he was.

  I was sure that if my friends could see this side of him, they would see that there was a lot more to Emerson Lopez than they thought.

  Eight

  I signed in at the nursing home and knelt to pull a pencil and notebook out of my backpack.

  Emerson came in, his skateboard in hand. He nodded at me, and I smiled as I stood up.

  He glanced down at my notebook. “What’s that for?” Then he grabbed the pen on top of the clipboard, scribbling his name under mine. When he was done, he turned back to me.

  “The social studies project? I decided it would be a good idea to interview someone here, maybe create a poster,” I replied.

  We started toward the arts and crafts room, his eyes on mine and his mouth turning up at the corner. “The social studies project? You mean the one the teacher just told us about today?”

  I could tell he was holding back a snort, and I pursed my lips. “It’s due in a couple weeks, and I’d like to get started sooner rather than later.”

  Now he chuckled. “Let me guess? You’re gonna turn in your poster at least a week early?”

  Stuttering, I managed to say, “S—so?”

  He laughed full on then, and the sound made butterflies erupt inside my stomach. I was making Emerson laugh, and all I wanted was to make it go on forever.

  But then he was off to his usual table with Mr. Roberts. Just like that, he was gone, and I found myself aching for his presence again.

  Shaking that thought out of my head, I found Ms. Ellie at a nearby table, already recounting stories from when she was young.

  I smiled, glad I’d remembered to bring my notebook. Thanks to her, I’d have plenty of primary source material for my social studies project.

  I explained the project to her, and she practically jumped up in her seat, clapping from excitement. “Oh, I have so much to tell you, Harper.” She winked at me and picked out a peach-colored pencil for today’s project, sketching out a fruit bowl in the middle of the table.