by Sarah Sutton
This is not happening.
This is so not happening.
This is so totally not happening.
I turned fully in my chair to face Mrs. Keller, my lungs seizing on the air they were trying to draw in. “You believe me, right? I wouldn’t jeopardize my ability to graduate. I wouldn’t.”
Mrs. Keller finally turned to look at me, and the disappointment in her eyes nearly killed me. I never would’ve thought her approval meant so much to me, but seeing that hope so cruelly dashed to pieces cut a new wound into my chest. “I’m sorry, Remi,” she said, truly sounding regretful. “I wish you’d chosen the better path instead of trying to cheat.”
“But I didn’t—”
“We’ve called your mother,” Principal Martinez said. She didn’t want to hear me out; that much was clear. I could see everything slip away from me in an instant, swirling down the drain. “She didn’t answer, but I left a message. You’re suspended from the rest of today’s classes, as well as from the Snowflake Dance tomorrow. We’ll have a board meeting on Monday to discuss your situation, which you’re welcome to come to and plead your case.”
Plead my case. Like I was on trial. Like I was Terry.
“If you’re not going to listen to me now, what’s going to be different at a board meeting?”
Principal Martinez’s face tightened and she leaned forward, the harsh lighting sending her shadow across her desk. “I suggest you change your tone, Miss Beaufort, for additional consequences won’t be as forgiving.”
“Forgiving? You’re failing my senior year!” I’d have to repeat the year, stuck in high school while everyone else moved on. While Elijah moved on.
“And whose fault is that?” No compassion.
I dug my fingers into the knees of my jeans, hardly feeling the pain. The pressure was the only thing that kept me from spouting off a sarcastic comment.
“That’s all. Please have your mother call us when you get home.” Principal Martinez turned back to her desk, and Mrs. Keller glanced away from me. A clear dismissal from both of them. My speaking role was over; cue my exit stage left.
I got to my feet, my jaw aching from how tightly I’d been clenching it. When I reached the door and pulled it open, meeting the prying gaze of the secretary, I couldn’t keep a final retort from slipping out. “This must stink for tomorrow, huh? Can it really be a Snowflake Dance without any snowflakes?”
Before they had a chance to answer, I slammed the door behind me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mom was furious when I told her the story of what happened, but not at me.
“What do you mean they wouldn’t hear you out? They said you tried to cheat? Well, then, can they explain why you slaved away at those godforsaken snowflakes for the past two weeks? Why I have glitter on every surface imaginable in my kitchen? Where’s the cordless? I’m going to give that school a piece of my mind.”
That piece of her mind involved a lot of passive-aggressive sighing, a little bit of yelling, and her hanging up in an angry huff. Principal Martinez had told her, apparently, that since all evidence pointed to me, I must have done it. Guilty until proven innocent.
I had to admit, it did look pretty incriminating. But it had been raised sixteen percentage points—even I wouldn’t have been that stupid. If I’d done it, I’d only raised it by four points. Just enough to pass.
“You’re not really suspended, right?” Eloise said as soon as she picked up the phone. I called her after school let out, not feeling like summarizing everything into a text. “That’s just a rumor?”
Ugh, it was already going around? “No, I’m really suspended,” I told her, grunting in frustration as I flopped onto my bed. My ceiling held no answers and didn’t even attempt to soothe me. “They think I hacked into Mrs. Keller’s online grade book.”
“That’s a load of bull!” Eloise shouted over the phone. “Don’t they know you?”
I snorted. “I’m not like you. I’m not Miss Goody Two-Shoes.”
“Still. You’re not a delinquent. And Mrs. Keller believed you cheated, too?”
“Wholeheartedly. In her defense, though, Elijah did cheat for me on the papier-mâché project, so,” I said, dragging the word out, “it wasn’t much of a stretch for her. Suspended from school, can’t go to the school dance. Not that the stupid thing would’ve been fun anyway.” Watching everyone dance with their dates—watching Elijah dance with Savannah—yeah, no thanks.
“Well…crap.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face, over my mouth, trying to wipe away the memory of a certain pressure. “In other news, Elijah and I are over.”
“What do you mean, over?”
“We’re done. Not friends anymore.” Not anything anymore. Not anything ever again. “So let’s not mention his name anymore, okay?”
I waited for Eloise to say something on the other line, for anything to filter through, but there was only silence. And then—“Remi, there is no you without Elijah. You’re best friends. You can’t just break up.”
“Well, we did.” My elbows dug into my mattress as I sat up, grinding my teeth. “Just wanted to update you, but I’ve got to go.”
I hung up without letting her reply, dropping my cell on my bed and flopping back down. If I listened closely, I could hear the wind pushing up against the windows and hear the heat hum through the air vents. And listening closely was the only way to get my brain off everything falling apart.
My life sucked.
Let’s review.
I had a best friend, one who knew me probably better than I knew myself, and I loved him. He kissed me and everything had been perfect—until I realized that he’d only told the truth because he and his girlfriend had a falling-out. I was his backup plan, and it hurt.
I spent who knew how many hours cutting and pasting and glittering 150 snowflakes for a dance for a school that had convicted me of a crime I didn’t commit. A school that refused to let me graduate with the class I’d grown up with.
And now I had those 150 snowflakes for no reason.
The Snowflake Dance was in eight hours, but no way in hell was I going.
So…yeah. My life sucked. Monumentally.
Mom had been on the phone with Dad all morning Saturday, trying to come up with a game plan for “defending my innocence.” Because that was what we had to do, apparently, which was so messed up. At the moment, Dad planned to come down to Greenville on Monday and go to the stupid meeting himself, intent on defending his daughter from the horrors of the district court. Or, well, the Greenville School District court.
This was literally a horror movie. A low-budget one.
I sat on my bedspread with my bag full of snowflakes, staring at them with such a dark hatred that I was surprised they didn’t shrivel up into nothing but dust and glitter. How could something so dumb be my downfall? These stupid pieces of paper belonged in the trash. The only good thing about them being in my hands meant that Mrs. Keller and Principal Martinez didn’t have them, and that meant their stupid dance would just be a Snow Dance. In their faces.
But the disappointment in Mrs. Keller’s eyes was something I wouldn’t be able to erase from my memory, not anytime soon. It sank my stomach, a rock floating to the bottom of a riverbed, and not even the strongest of currents could move it. She had been counting on me, and in her eyes, I failed her.
I pulled a snowflake out of the bag, careful not to flake any glitter off. These things were a true nightmare, a symbol of everything in my life that had imploded. I would never be able to look at the shape the same way.
Desperately, I wanted to just text Elijah. He would say the right thing; he always did. He’d say something so ridiculously positive that I’d have no choice but to believe him. A part of me hoped that he would text me first, maybe after hearing the rumors around school. He never did. Our silence didn’t stop me from peeking out my bedroom window a few times, checking to see if his truck was in the driveway.
It was, and covered i
n snow.
Mom’s voice leaked through the door, rising higher as she grew more flustered. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed myself to get into this position, failing a class and dooming my senior year. Worse yet, I’d dragged my parents into this when they had their own lives to worry about.
My fingertips tangled with glitter as I thought about how different life had been two weeks ago.
These things might be a nightmare now, but I thought of all the times they’d brought me closer to someone. To Elijah, to my mom, to my dad, to Clarabelle. Even to Eloise, for a minute. Although she hadn’t helped, she’d been moral support. These stupid snowflakes strengthened my relationship with all those people.
I thought about Mom, staying up all night and finishing them. What would’ve once felt overbearing had saved me in the end—her constant protectiveness helped me cross that finish line. It made me hate myself for ever yelling at her. No wonder she was as upset as I was. It meant the world that she was willing to stay up all night to help me, even when she thought they were for extra credit. Since all this went down, I had been forced to tell her the truth.
Report cards had been sent out last night, and mine had a brilliant, whopping F next to Fine Arts, accompanied by a tanked GPA.
I slipped the snowflake back inside its plastic bag and I got to my feet, grabbing my coat. “Mom?” I called, finding her on the couch, still on the phone. “I’ll be right back. There’s something I need to do.”
It wasn’t too bad of a day out today. The sun partially hid behind the cloud cover of winter, but my breath didn’t fog in the air as I walked up to the building. Spring was still a ways away, but days like this made me anxious for warmer weather.
I could’ve driven myself, but it was a nice day, and I needed more time to think.
The school’s gymnasium had been decorated quite well for the limited budget Mrs. Keller talked about. Various shades of blue streamers and ribbons were strung around the room, weaved in and out to create an intricate-looking pattern. A roll of blue fabric lay along the floor in some places, looking like a carpet movie stars walked down. White cotton batting lay torn apart along the ground, attempting to look like piles of snow.
But with all the decorations, there was not a single snowflake in sight.
“Remi.”
I turned at my name, finding Mrs. Keller emerging from behind a photo booth.
Her features pressed into a frown, her eyes steely behind her glasses. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to give these to you,” I said, holding out the bag of snowflakes. Her eyes fell to it, but she didn’t immediately take it. “I didn’t lie to you; I did make the snowflakes. All 150 of them. And I didn’t change my grade. If I was going to change my grade, I wouldn’t have been spending hours working on these dumb things.” I added, “Do you know how annoying glitter is?”
She hesitated. “I do. That’s why no one would take that job.”
Ha. Of course. I got the worst job available. “Well, that’s the only reason I’m here. I wasn’t going to do anything with them, and I didn’t want them to go to waste. Plus…I wanted you to see the truth, even though that doesn’t change anything.”
Mrs. Keller took ahold of the bag, turning over the snowflakes as she examined the glitter. “And you did these all yourself?”
“No,” I answered honestly. “My dad and stepmom helped me, and we laughed around the table for hours. My mom helped me finish them. That’s why she didn’t answer the phone yesterday; she was asleep after staying up late. Elijah…” I cut myself off with a hard swallow, straightening my spine. “No, I didn’t do these by myself, but these snowflakes made me realize how something small can have a big impact. Because these snowflakes will tie everything together.”
Surprise rippled through me when Mrs. Keller broke into a laugh. “It’s like you said. You can’t have a Snowflake Dance without snowflakes.” Her eyes met mine again. “I could see if Principal Martinez would let you come to the dance tonight, Remi. If you wanted.”
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I glanced over to find Savannah and a few other members of the student council carrying around a pillar and placing it near the bathrooms. From a distance, our gazes caught.
“Thanks,” I told Mrs. Keller, backing away, “but I think I’m going to stay home.”
My hands felt empty without the bag, a weight lifted from my chest. I’d miss that excuse to have something to do. Maybe it was time to pick up another arts and crafts hobby. Ha, no.
I stuck my hands into my jacket pockets as I made my way outside, feeling a little bit lighter.
“Remi!”
Savannah wrapped her arms around her middle as she came out of the building after me, her blonde hair flapping around her shoulders as she jogged over. Great, I thought, glancing around to see if anyone was here to witness this. She’s going to knock me out for kissing her boyfriend, isn’t she?
“Savannah, let’s not do this, okay?”
“No, we’re doing this,” she said, stomping up to me. Her lips pressed tightly together as she looked at me. “I know what happened last night. And what happened at Jeremy’s party. I know you kissed him, and I—”
“I’m sorry,” I said, clenching my hands into fists in my pockets. “What happened shouldn’t have ever happened. I shouldn’t have kissed him; that was a seriously crappy thing to do. But don’t worry, because it’s not going to happen again.” I couldn’t stand to face her any longer, so I shifted my gaze to the sky. It hurt to look at her; it brought my jumble of emotions to the surface. “I know it was you who changed my grades, you know.”
I saw her jerk—or maybe she shivered. “I didn’t—”
“Just don’t, okay? You came into lunch late. You told me Mrs. Keller needed to talk to me, and she wasn’t even in her room. Conveniently, my grades were changed around the same time. Not exactly rocket science.”
When I finally looked to Savannah, I saw that her eyes were wide, color draining from her cheeks. “You didn’t tell.”
I felt abruptly tired, as if all of my energy had been zapped, drained. “No, I didn’t tell. Even though it’s going to make me fail this semester. Fail my senior year. You know why? Because Elijah cares about you.” The words ached a little to admit. “You only changed my grade because I kissed your boyfriend, right? I’m not trying to steal him from you, Savannah. He’s yours. Just…promise me that you’ll love him.” My lips curved a little on their own accord. “You’ll appreciate him for who he is. Accept him. Listen to his stories, be excited with him about his art, be a shoulder for him to lean on. Be there for him.” Because I won’t be. “If you can do that, I’ll let this go. We’ll be even.”
“Fail your senior year,” she said slowly, her expression twisting with a mixture of confusion and shock. “You’d repeat the grade instead of tell the truth and turn me in? You’re going to fail your senior year just to make Elijah happy?”
Yeah, it did sound psycho, didn’t it? Entirely psycho. Like I’d lost my mind completely. But Savannah, for whatever reason, was someone Elijah cared about. I wasn’t going to stand in the way. I was going to do what Dad said: step back, let him live his life. Protect his happiness. Buy military-grade binoculars. Elijah was my Clarabelle, but I wasn’t his, and that…that’d have to be okay.
I recalled the webpage I’d been looking on earlier from the school district’s website. “I wouldn’t have to repeat the whole grade, just the semester of art. I can take summer classes and graduate in the fall. And I love him,” I told her, uncaring about how I was literally confessing my love to her boyfriend, uncaring about whatever expression crossed her face. I turned my back on her, muttering under my breath, “You do dumb things for the people you love.”
Something about winter had me feeling different. Not good, not bad, just different. Maybe I could blame winter on everything falling apart, the skewed feelings—everything.
I always was a firm believer that things happened for a reas
on, but sometimes it was hard to imagine what that reason could’ve been.
I thought about Harmony, about all the times she’d tried to walk in the past but kept falling down, crashing, relying on someone to reach out and catch her. That was what Elijah had done his project on. I thought about Terry, a good kid who’d made some really dumb decisions, getting a second chance to restart his life. I even thought about Dad and Clarabelle, and how he’d gotten his second chance at finding his true love.
All of those things happened for a reason. Harmony had to fall to learn to walk. Terry went through his rough patch before coming out on the other side with a different perspective. And Dad, with his relationship with Mom—he learned how to love, to truly love, and he gained from it. He gained me and he kept a friend in Mom.
This had to be my “happens for a reason” moment. Even if I had no flipping clue how everything tied together.
I’d just turned down my driveway when I saw Mrs. Greybeck shut the door behind her across the street, bundled in her jacket, heading for her car. My steps slowed, and I felt torn between ducking my head and quickening my pace or raising my voice and saying hello.
The decision was made for me when she slipped on some ice and fell on her butt in the snow.
“Mrs. Greybeck!” I called, hurrying across the street. Even before I reached her driveway, I could hear her laugh, so light and familiar that it sent a tingle down my spine. Familiar like an old scent you hadn’t smelled in years, or an image that tickled your memory but you couldn’t place at first. It made my heart jump. “Mrs. Greybeck, are you okay?”
She was still laughing as I approached, reaching out for her hands. It was another thing that threw me for a loop, the sight of her grin. “Oh, I’m fine. I forgot how slippery the grass can be once the snow melts a little.”
I helped brush the snow off the back of her jacket. “Yeah, winter is a notorious season for falls.”