Tell (4 page)

“Thanks,” she said.

Cadie took a desk in the back of her AP calculus class.  She had with her a textbook from her AP physics class.  She had study hall seventh period and had started reading the first chapter, because she was not very good at science and wanted to get a jump on things.  After study hall, she would have had time to drop the book off at her locker if she had not decided to go to the bathroom because her bladder felt like it was going to explode.  But she had gone, and her bladder remained intact.  Crisis averted.

She leaned over to put the text in the basket underneath her chair and heard someone take the seat next to her on her right.  When she sat back up, her hair was in her face, obstructing her vision.  When she tucked it behind her ear, she was surprised beyond belief to see Shane Stolarz sitting next to her.

“Hi,” she said.  It came out sounding like a question.

“Hey,” he answered.

She looked around and saw faces that she recognized, one of which belonged to Theodore Collins.  This confirmed that she was, in fact, in the classroom for AP calculus, because she knew he would not be taking anything less.  Stacy had been in her AP physics class, as well as her computer science class after lunch, but had drawn the line at AP history and calc, so Cadie had not bothered to keep an eye out for her.  She looked back at Shane.  “Are you in the right room?” she could not help asking.

He was slouched far down in his chair, staring at the front of the room.  “AP calc,” he responded flatly.

“You’re taking AP calc,” she said doubtfully.

“Does that surprise you?”

“Yes,” she replied bluntly.

He finally looked at her and smiled.  “Me, too,” he answered honestly.

Cadie looked around the room again.  “Why are you sitting next to me?” she asked curiously.

Shane shrugged.  “You’re the only person in this room that I’ve talked to in the last five years.”

After another look around the room, and after some consideration, she realized he was probably telling the truth.  In all likelihood, these were not the kind of people that Shane hung out with regularly.  Cadie opened her notebook and carefully printed her name and the day’s date on the top of the page.  “Why are you taking AP calculus?” she asked when she was finished.

“I like math,” he responded.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

She paused.  “I hate it,” she answered.

He glanced at her sidelong.  “Then why are you taking it?”

Cadie shrugged.  “I took all AP classes.  I really didn’t think about it.”

“You’re gonna have a fun time this year.”

She snorted.  “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”  Then she realized that she actually
did
have something better to do.  She had decided to take the position of editor of the literary magazine.  She felt something close to panic well up in her chest.  That was a
huge
responsibility.  And these AP classes were going to give her a run for her money.  How was she going to find time to handle all of this?

“Are you okay?”

She glanced at him.  “I’m fine.  Why?”

“You just looked like you were going to be sick there for a second.”

She shook her head.  “I’m fine.  Just…”  She hesitated, trying to come up with a plausible excuse.  One blessedly came to mind.  “Chicken patties,” she said.

He nodded wisely.  “I got you.”

Four

The final bell rang at 2:40 pm.  Sleeping kids everywhere awoke to go home.  Melody stood from her seat in the band room.  Andy had this class with her, too, and stood from the seat next to her.  She liked spending time with him, even if they were just sitting there learning about scales and intervals in music theory.  It seemed like every time she was with him, she learned something new about him.  Today she had learned that he did not shower after gym class.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” she asked, looking down at the books she was gathering up.

He slung his backpack over one shoulder.  “I dunno.  Why?”

“Do you want to do something?” she wanted to know.  The two of them started their walk down the hallway.

“Yeah, maybe,” he responded absently.  “I was thinking of taking some pictures around the neighborhood before it gets cold—you know, to submit to the lit mag again this year.  You could come with, if you want.”

Andy was big on photography.  He had gotten a digital camera from his mother for his fourteenth birthday and had taken it as a sign from God or something.  He had barely gone anywhere without it.  A new camera that he had gotten for his sixteenth birthday in February had replaced Old Faithful (as he had called it).  He had told Melody on several occasions the model of the camera, along with its many incredible features, but all she could remember was that it was a Nikon and that it took better pictures than her phone could.

  The past two years, he had submitted several photos to the school’s literary magazine,
The Inner Eye
.  His freshman year, they had been rejected, but the previous year, they had used one picture of a sunflower that he had taken and put it opposite some gooey love poem that a fourteen-year-old girl had written.  Andy had been outraged.

Melody had spoken to Cadie briefly earlier that day; Cadie had physics in the lab near her fifth period biology class, and they had crossed paths.  She knew that her sister was probably going to accept the position of the literary magazine’s editor, and she almost blurted it out to Andy, but held it in.  She was never very good at keeping secrets from Andy.  Still, she was excited.  If Cadie was the editor, Andy’s photos had more of a chance of being in the publication this year.  And he had asked her to hang out with her.  “Sure,” she said.  “Where do you think you want to go?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he replied.  “I’ll call you when I get home.  Okay?”

“Yeah, definitely,” she answered as the two of them came to the hallway’s intersection.

“Okay, I’ll see you later.”

“’
Bye,” she responded as he disappeared into the main office to wait for his mother.

Melody turned and saw her sister walking into the art room down the hall.  She broke into a jog to wait outside for her, realizing that she was probably going in there to tell Mrs. Davinsizer that she was accepting the editor’s position.  She reached the art room, panting, and leaned against the lockers outside.

Cadie came out a few minutes later and looked startled to see her there.  “Hey,” she greeted Melody.  “Where did you come from?”

“Band room,” Melody answered, pointing.  “I have music theory last period.”

“Okay.  Now I know where to find you when you don’t have practice.”  She tossed her hair over her shoulder.  “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

They started walking toward the side exit, back down the hallway in the direction from which Melody had come.

“So, you took the position, right?” Melody asked excitedly.

Cadie nodded.  “Yep.”

“Great.  Are you going to print any of Andy’s pictures?”  She looked at her sister expectantly.

Cadie glanced at her sidelong.  “If they’re good.”

“Come on, Cadie,” Melody whined.  “They never print any of his good ones.”

“For some reason, Amber didn’t seem to think that photography was art.”

“Who’s Amber?”

“The old editor.”

“Oh.”

They walked in silence for a few moments.

“Andy and I are hanging out tonight,” Melody piped up.  “We’re going to walk around town and he’s going to take pictures.”

“Make sure you have your clothes on in all his pictures,” Cadie answered.

“He’s not going to take pictures of
me
.”

“So he says.”

“Do you really think he would take pictures of me walking around town without any clothes on?”

“If he did, I would most certainly publish them.”

Shane glanced at his watch.  He and Felicia had been sitting stationary in the car for eight minutes and counting.  His foot was starting to get tired from being pressed on the brake.  He shifted into park, then lifted his foot.  Meanwhile, the train lumbered on slowly.  The red and white gates blinked with red lights.  They were the third car lined up behind the railroad crossing.  It was a coal train, and a long one at that.

“You should have taken the back way,” Felicia chided from the passenger seat.  She was filing her fingernails.

“Like I knew there was going to be a train,” Shane responded.

“There’s
always
a train.  I think there’s a 3:00 train every day.”

“There’s also a 7:15 train every day, so maybe you can get ready a little quicker tomorrow morning.”

Felicia threw the nail file into her purse.  “Whatever.  All I know is that Brian is going to come over before dance class tonight.”

Shane took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “All
I
know is, it takes fifteen minutes to go the back way and it only takes ten minutes to go on 220.”

“It’s not worth the gamble.”

“There’s a lot more school traffic the back way.”

“There are three lights on 220.”

“I don’t want to follow a bus.”  Shane was starting to get annoyed.

Felicia sighed.  “Whatever,” she said again.

The last car on the train passed them, and the gates mercifully rose.  Shane took his car out of park and the Camaro crawled forward, tailgating the minivan in front of them.  It had been a long day, it was hot, and his car did not have air conditioning.  Fortunately, because it was the first day of school, Coach Hoover had decided to give them the day off from practice.  He was exhausted.

Felicia began rapping her nails impatiently on the console between the seats.

“You’re pleasant today,” Shane remarked.

“I just want to get home,” she replied testily.

“You want to know what?” he retorted.  “Every day that I have practice, I’m not going to be driving you home.  And if you’re this annoying to people on the bus, they may throw you off.”  He pulled into the driveway and groaned inwardly when he saw that Brian’s green Dodge Shadow was already parked there.

“Finally,” Felicia breathed.  The car had barely stopped before she had unbuckled and practically tumbled out the door.  She was running for the house when he put the car in park.

Shane took his time gathering up his backpack and heading toward the house.  He did not really harbor any resentment toward Felicia or Brian for dating each other, although it made things weird at times.  Still, it was going to be annoying for the next couple weeks.  Brian was leaving for college soon, and Shane was resigned to the fact that he was not going to get to spend any time with his friend before he left for school.  Actually, when he came home on weekends, he would probably be all over Felicia then, too, so he really was not going to be spending any time with him ever again.

He shut the driver’s side door, feeling slightly bitter.  Shane had a lot of acquaintances, but not a lot of friends that he would willingly hang out with outside of school or practice.  He knew he did not have any room to be upset, because he had ruined a few of Felicia’s friendships in his time.  But he could not help but feel like he was losing one of the few friends that he had.

When he got into the house, he headed upstairs into the kitchen.  Brian was standing in the kitchen, chatting with their dad.  He had his arm thrown across Felicia’s shoulders.

“I was lucky they didn’t put me in one of the dorms with those quad rooms,” Brian was saying.  “That was basically two dorm rooms stuck together with four people in it and two sets of bunk beds.  There really wasn’t enough space to live.”  Brian caught sight of Shane and smiled.  “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Shane answered, smiling as well.  He held out his hand and Brian slapped it.  It had been their greeting for years.  “Enjoying the last few weeks before hell?”

Brian laughed.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Yesterday was my last day at work.”  Brian had worked at an Auntie Anne’s pretzel kiosk in the closest mall for the past three summers.

“Now you might be able to buy books,” their dad remarked.

“Maybe one or two,” Brian joked back.

“What classes do you have this semester?” their dad asked.

“Gen eds, mostly,” Brian responded.  “Biology, algebra, history, composition, and a P.E. course.”

“What are you majoring in again?”

“Sports administration.”

“And where exactly will that field get you?”

Shane was sort of relieved that Brian was there to take some of the edge off. Their father, Alex, was one of the managers for a nearby restaurant.  He typically worked later than this, but Shane knew that he had been planning on taking off early today to be there when his kids got home from the first day of school.  On the surface, this appeared to be sweet and caring, but Shane was aware his dad would be instigating the Spanish Inquisition about SATs and future plans at some point this evening.  His mother, Molly, an auditor, was no different, but she tended to work longer hours and therefore had less opportunity to question him.

“Dad,” Felicia interrupted, “enough with the third degree.”  She tugged on Brian’s arm.  “Come on.”  She started to lead him away by the hand.

“Nice seeing you again, Mr. Stolarz,” Brian called over his shoulder as he was dragged from the room.

“So, what do you think?” asked Alex.  His back was turned toward his son as he transferred a plate from the dishwasher to the china cabinet.

“I give it ‘til Thanksgiving,” Shane answered, dropping his bag on a kitchen chair.

His dad looked over his shoulder.  “I meant about the first day of school.”

“Oh.”  Shane paused.  “It was fine.”

Felicia and Brian lay on her bed, her head against his chest and his arm around her shoulders.  It was one of the few positions they could lie together that was not awkward; at six-foot-two, Brian was fourteen inches taller than his girlfriend.  He was deeply tanned from the summer sun, and his black hair and brown eyes added to his overall dark and brooding image.  This, combined with his lankiness and long limbs, caused Felicia to think that he looked like he should be playing bass in some grunge band.  Unfortunately, he kept his wiry hair cut short.  She had always liked the long-haired look on guys.

“So, how was the most wonderful day of the year?” he asked her conversationally.

“Not so wonderful,” she responded.  She thought about telling him about meeting Elliot, but refrained.  She was not sure he wanted to hear about her meeting new people already.  Besides, it probably was not worth mentioning.  He would not even be interested.

Brian tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear.  “I know what would make your day better,” he said, pulling her closer.

“What’s that?” she asked playfully, already knowing the response.  He did this so often, it was almost scripted.

Brian leaned over and kissed her, but she was startled at the kind of kiss it was.  His lips parted hers and his tongue slid into her mouth immediately, as he drew her body sharply to his.  She responded, but hesitantly.  When his hand slid underneath the hem of her shirt and touched her stomach, she broke away.

“My dad is right down the hall,” she pointed out quietly, “and my door is open.”

“So close it,” he whispered back.

“You know I’m not allowed to have boys in my room with the door closed,” she admonished teasingly.

Brian rolled his eyes.

“What?” she asked defensively.

“You’re always making some kind of excuse,” he answered.

She furrowed her brow and pulled away from him slightly.  “I’m not making excuses,” she said slowly.  “That’s the rule at my house and you know it.”

“Yeah, that’s the rule here,” Brian shot back, “but it’s not the rule at my house and you still pushed me away when we were there yesterday.”

Felicia sighed and sat up, facing away from him.  “I’m getting sick of having this conversation,” she said tiredly.

“Well, you could stop saying
no
,” he suggested sarcastically.

Felicia stood, suddenly not wanting to be on the bed with him.  “I don’t understand why you always have to
push
me.  Can’t you just wait until I’m ready, Brian?”