Certainty (7 page)

He shrugged. “I knew you’d say yes.”

She smacked him on the arm and he winced. “Ow.”

“We’ll all be fah-bulous,” Crystal said, her eyes turning dreamy.

“Almost all of us,” Noah said, smirking at me and Steve.

Katie smacked him again. “That was mean.”

I agreed but didn’t say anything. Steve didn’t defend himself either. Either we had no self-esteem or it wasn’t worth defending ourselves.

I caught Ren peering back at me through his hair, concern in his eyes. It caught me off guard and I looked away. I realized he was trying to soften Noah’s words without calling him out. So he cared about me, but he didn’t want to hurt Noah’s dumb feelings? At least he cared about the way I felt. But he didn’t want to date me. Was he going to turn into another Kyle for me? Another guy who flirted with me but didn’t really want me the way I wanted him?

The moment lunch ended our table cleared, books and papers disappearing in a matter of seconds.

Noah grabbed Ren’s shirt sleeve and dragged him away from the table. Noah kept acting like I might contaminate his new friend. 

I found my biology class and took my usual seat at the black lab table. It smelled sour, probably from a lab the class before us had done. Mr. Leitner was at his desk on his computer, frowning and clicking away. Grades, probably. He was always harping about how apathetic our “generation” was. Whatever.

Did Ren really like me or was he just lonely because he was new? I obsessed over it while Mr. Leitner droned on and scribbled on the board, his pen jabbing to emphasize the fascinatingness of cells. Suddenly the classroom lights flickered and went dark.

Mr. Leitner stopped and turned around, looking up at the lights. A sweet, wonderful blackout.

Everyone cheered in the semi-darkness until Mr. Leitner reminded us that the lights were probably only going to be off for a few minutes. We chatted about why the lights had gone off while Mr. Leitner sat on the edge of his desk, refereeing the speculation. As time went on we were more and more hopeful the lights wouldn’t come back on.

Burke, as usual, was the most obnoxious. He’s a thin kid with longish red hair who is always doing something abnormal. Last week right before we started our lab he pulled his goggles down over his eyes and yelled at the top of his lungs, “SCIENCE!!”

I couldn’t decide if he was crazy or he just pretended to be. I don’t think the teachers even knew. I heard a rumor that his IQ was 160 or something improbable like that. His guesses about the blackout ranged from thermonuclear meltdown to zombie takeover.

Mr. Leitner looked at his watch and told us it was time for the next class.

Burke jumped out of his chair and yelled, “I’m free!!”

He burst out of the door and we could hear him running down the hallway screaming “I’m FREE!”

Mr. Leitner didn’t even try to stop him. He rubbed his beard and said, “I hope he’s going to his next class.”

I was in my next class for five minutes when the lights came back on. There was a collective groan of agony and disappointment followed by a distant shouting out in the halls. I could barely make out the words, “I’m FREEE!” and then footsteps sounded in the halls.

Miss Carmichael peeked out the window and gasped, so of course we all had to go look. We crowded around the small window in the door, the taller ones lucky enough to see out over everyone’s heads. Suddenly Burke ran past us, his red hair flying and his mouth open in a gleeful howl. Two teachers and three policeman followed, pounding after him. We stared, open-mouthed and silent as Burke was tackled at the end of the hallway.

“Oooh,” one of the boys whispered sympathetically. Burke flailed around for a few moments and then Miss Carmichael ended the show by insisting we all get back in our seats “for our own safety”. As if Burke was going to explode and we’d get hit by flying Burke-debris. We shuffled back to our seats, awed and delighted.

I’m not sure what school policies he was breaking—do they have rules about running in the halls declaring your freedom from education? Not that I’d read the student handbook, (who has?) but I was pretty sure they didn’t have anything specifically against it. Maybe next year they would have to make up a rule just for Burke.

When I got home from school I told my mom the Burke story and she loved it. I’d been telling her Burke stories ever since he popped up in the eighth grade.

“The police
tackled
him?” she asked in disbelief, but she was laughing, her eyes bright with interest.

“Oh, yeah. I saw it. He wasn’t going to stop running around so I guess they had to do something before he hurt himself. Or maybe it was just super annoying.”

“Mr. Leitner let him go?”

“Mr. Leitner is kind of…fat. He might have a heart attack trying to catch a 16-yr old kid with that much energy.”

“Maybe Burke was high,” she speculated, frowning. She was kicking into Mom-mode, I could tell.

“I don’t think he needs drugs. He’s got some weird natural chemical already in his brain that works a lot better.”

She laughed and Mom-mode disappeared. “I love Burke. He brightens up my day. I wish I could be Burke.”

“He’s probably going to end up in jail.”

“At least he’ll be entertaining on the way,” she said, pulling open the fridge to start dinner. James didn’t have soccer practice today so she was making dinner before Dad came home.

Derek came home after football and then Dad. At the table Mom made me tell the Burke story. James listened wide-eyed as if it were the tale of some superhero. Derek claimed he’d already heard the story because everyone at school was talking about it. He was slightly envious that Burke was in my biology class. There was nothing he could do about that because he was a freshman—he probably would never have any classes with Burke, unless Burke failed some of his classes, which was highly likely. He didn’t seem to care.

After dinner I finished my homework and opened my laptop and logged on to see if Ren was there. He wasn’t, but Steve was. I said “hi” and he started talking to me about World of Warcraft.

Derek flopped down on the couch next to the computer desk. “Where’s the neighbor kid?”

“At home, I guess.” I checked again to see if Ren was online, but he didn’t show up.

“You should see if he wants to come over.’

“Ummmm, you can if you want.”

He sighed. “I’m too lazy. It’s all that weight-lifting—check out my pipes.” He flexed his biceps for me and I had to admit he was stronger since he started football. He was still tan from his lawnmowing job this summer, and he was no longer as skinny as he was last year. There was no doubt he was built for sports—he could run farther and faster than I could. Over the summer we would race at the beach and he always left me behind. It didn’t matter that I was older.

“Those are some great pipes,” I admitted.

He fell asleep a few minutes later and Katie texted me.
Noah is so sweet! He bought me a necklace to wear to the dance.

That is so sweet.

It’s a silver chain with a locket.

Sounds nice! Have you found any dresses?

Yes. Online. I’ll send you the links.

I checked out all the dresses she picked and I loved them. I know pink isn’t her favorite color but she is tall and thin and totally rocks everything she wears.

You have great taste. You can pick out mine.

LOL! No thanks. You can do it.

A few minutes later I stretched and shut down my laptop. Derek was still sleeping on the couch and I could hear Dad nagging James to get his shower.

I walked in the dining room and found my mom working on a scrapbook.

She looked up from the papercutter. “Do you want to help? It’s the family vacation last year.”

“Tempting…hey, I forgot to tell you  I’m going to Homecoming with Ren and Noriko and Steve.”

Her eyes lit up and she stopped cutting. “Really? Did Ren ask you?”

“No, I’m just going with the group.” I tried not to sound too disappointed. “Can we go dress shopping Saturday?”

“Yes, definitely.”

Looking down at the page of pictures I decided we were a pretty good-looking family. Derek was tall and always laughing about something, usually his own wit. James seemed to lurk in the background but maybe that was just because he was the youngest. I had a lot of good pictures…except for that one.

It was a picture of us by a campfire and my mouth was hanging open as I cooked a marshmallow. Realizing I could help my mom make better choices for her pages, which would be shown to every living, breathing creature who came to our home, I sat down and picked up some scissors.

“Ah! The scrapbooking bug has bit you at last!” she said, pleased.

“Sort of,” I said, discreetly taking the picture of me with my mouth open out of her pile. Besides, this could be fun. Where was that picture of Derek sticking his finger up his nose?

CHAPTER SEVEN

MacKenzie

The next morning Ren was waiting for me when I walked past his house.

“Hey,” he said, his skateboard thunking down on the sidewalk. He wore the same sweatshirt from yesterday, his hands in the pockets.

“I should probably practice,” I said, eyeing the skateboard.

“Go for it.”

I stepped on the board and stood there, afraid to take the other foot off the board to shove myself forward.

Ren waited, watching me, his face impassive.

“We should probably be moving in a forward direction,” I suggested.

He nodded. “That’s true.”

“You could help.”

“Yes, but your back is ticklish. It’s a problem.”

I put my arms out. “My arms aren’t ticklish.”

He smiled faintly and gently pushed his hands against my arms. The skateboard started to roll and I concentrated on staying upright.

“Excellent. We’ve gone six inches. By noon we should reach the end of the block," I muttered. I put one foot down and pushed against the sidewalk. The skateboard rolled forward, so I did it again.

I made it to the street corner and hopped off. “I think that’s enough progress for one day.”

“You did great,” Ren said, picking up the board before we crossed the street.

“How long did it take you to learn?”

His mouth twitched in a smile. “I started younger.”

“So you were skateboarding when you were two.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. You’re fine.”

I pestered him the rest of the way to school, but he wouldn’t tell me when he'd started skateboarding. He kept saying encouraging things like, “Everyone is different.”

I met Katie at my locker and said goodbye to Ren. She raised her eyebrows at me but I ignored her. I knew I was flirting with him, but I didn’t want to admit it.

In Homeroom they passed out ballots for "Most Likely To" and
 
“Best Smile” and all that.  I voted  for Kyle as "Biggest Flirt", much to his delight.

 
He snatched up my paper so he could approve the rest of my votes.

 
"Thanks for respecting my voting privacy," I said.

He shook his head, a patronizing smile on his lips. "You could use my advice.”

I snatched my ballot back, explaining, "I need to add another category--Most Gigantic Head.”

"That hurts," he mocked, his hands over his heart.

"I doubt that."

The bell rang and he jumped up, grabbing his bookbag and ruffling my hair, which he knows I hate. "See ya later, Shawty."

I met Ren in the hall before Spanish and he walked me to class. He wore a plain black t-shirt, his necklace falling under the neck of his shirt. He usually wore a loose shirt or a sweat-shirt. It was the first time I had a glimpse of what he as built like. He was pretty much perfect, as I suspected-- lean and compact, as if his body were chiseled from stone.

I noticed girls turning back around to get a second look at him. It would only be a matter of time before he found a girlfriend, which was kind of depressing. I should simply enjoy the time I had with him instead of worrying about the inevitable, but when girls were tripping over themselves it was hard not to.

We walked by the Maddy cluster--a bunch of girls hanging around Maddy at her locker, flipping their hair and glancing around the hall to see who might notice them. Maddy was wearing her blond hair in curls that must have taken her an hour, her jeans tight enough to show that she most definitely did not have a muffin-top.

"I didn't vote for her. They didn't have a category for Most Slutty," Maddy was saying and some of the girls laughed, adding their own descriptions.

I instantly felt sorry for whoever they were talking about. They were also a tad hypocritical, in my opinion. They wore miniskirts, their shirts were so tight I could see their bra straps through the fabric. It’s not like they weren’t trying to get attention with what they were wearing.