She gets death threats in her locker and nasty glares, so I’ve taken it on myself to be her personal bodyguard. I just never say that out loud. It just sort of is. Homeland security for Kayla. And her fabulous breasts. Kayla’s so wrapped up in love, she’s all but oblivious to everything else, so that means I get to pull hair and wave warning fingers and punch a few harlots. Or five harlots. Evans isn’t happy.
The secretary, now completely used to my venerable presence, waves me through. I throw my backpack on the ground and flop in a chair.
He folds his hands on his desk and sighs.
“The papers are right there.”
I pull the stack of papers towards me, and get out a pen. In exchange for not being expelled like I was at my previous school, I get to help Evans grade math homework. He somehow found out it’s the one thing I’m good at, probably from Mrs. Gregory, the snitch. I knew I should’ve played dumb in her class.
He usually drinks coffee and answers emails, but today he watches me work. I flip through papers, making tiny tick marks and writing the correct answer by each wrong one. The first day he offered the answer sheet to me, but I brushed it off. He later checked my work against it. After that he hasn’t offered the answer sheet again.
“You are very good at this, Isis.”
“Yup.”
“Your SATs were rather miserable, though. Why is that?”
I sneer. “Well golly gee, Mr. E. Maybe it was because I didn’t eat breakfast that morning! Or maybe it was because I had explosive diarrhea! Or maybe it was because I was going through a bit of an emotional crisis! I was eighty-five pounds, with a boy -”
Ugly.
“- with some problems! Wow. A teenager with problems. Imagine that.”
He glowers and takes a sip of coffee. We both know I haven’t forgiven him for the picture incident, and I never will.
“You should take them again,” He insists. “There’s still time, before college applications are due. You could get a very high score.”
“And make your school look even better,” I mumble. Mr. Evans frowns.
“Come now, Isis. It’s not just about our reputation. Any school would be happy to have a female who can do math so well and easily. And according to your report card, your English isn’t bad at all. You could go to some very prestigious schools with those kinds of SATs. You could further your own life; make a great start for yourself.”
“Ohio State is fine with me.”
Mr. Evans laughs, and then when he realizes I’m not joking, his face falls.
“Isis, are you serious? I’m talking MIT, UCLA. State is for people who aren’t smart enough or aren’t rich enough for anywhere else. You could go where you wanted! Wherever you wanted in the country! Possibly out of the country! There are programs in China, Brazil, Europe!”
I flinch at the last word and scribble an answer.
“I-I have no interest in travelling. It’s full of rude people and food poisoning.”
Mr. Evans falls silent, and watches me work for a while longer. I press on, determined to ignore his gaze. Finally, he turns his computer on and starts answering emails.
Wren comes up to me at lunch. Kayla’s stopped sitting with me long ago, instead sitting with Jack at his usual empty table. She tries to feed him soup and he grimaces, but she laughs. She sees me staring and waves, smiling. Jack looks at me, and I quickly turn around and bury myself in my PB and J. Wren stares at the couple with his intense green gaze.
“It’s true then? They’re really going out?”
“You just heard about that now?”
He shrugs. “I’ve been working in the council office most of the last few weeks. Crunch time is coming for the budgets, and I’m training Miranda to succeed my position when I leave next year, and the food bank was broken into last night, and they can’t afford a new lock, so I called in some favors with Arnold’s locksmith father –”
Wren sees my eyes glazing and sighs.
“Sorry. I’m rambling about completely uninteresting things.”
“Duh. But that doesn’t mean I’m not sorry. It sounds rough.”
“It’s just presidential duties,” He smiles wanly. His eyes flick over to where Kayla is laughing at something Jack said. His stare dulls, eyes almost ashamedly looking away.
“You like her,” I say. It isn’t a question. I expect Wren to get flustered, or change the subject, but he just stares at Kayla again, and nods.
“Yes.”
“And Avery was pushing her towards you for a while.”
“To get funds for her club. I know how she works. But I –” Wren looks wistfully at Kayla over my shoulder. “Kayla was paying attention to me on her orders. But I tried to push that out, and just focus on her attention. Kayla, talking to me and listening to me and laughing with me, when she’d never even given me the time of day before. I tried to…selfishly pretend she was doing it because she wanted to, not under Avery’s orders.”
Wren falls quiet. I touch his hand.
“Shit, dude. I’m sorry.”
Wren smiles. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine. But as long as she’s happy –” He looks to her again. “ – Then I’ll be alright.”
“You’re a good guy.”
“No,” Wren laughs. “I’m a stupid guy. And Jack’s a frightening guy. So I’ll watch from afar, and make sure he won’t hurt her. Even if that’s creepy, and pathetic.”
“It’s not. It’s sensible!”
“Avery’s pissed too,” Wren says, jerking his head to Avery and her tableful of likewise fashionably dressed girls. Avery glowers at Kayla, stabbing her salad with unnecessary enthusiasm.
“Why?”
“Kayla stopped talking to me. Fake-flirting. Avery came to me this morning and tried to flirt instead, but I wouldn’t have it. I guess Kayla refused to take Avery’s orders.”
I smile, pride welling in my chest. “She’s getting stronger.”
“Yeah,” Wren murmurs. “But at what cost? What if Jack – what if he –”
Wren takes a bite of burrito and swallows nervously.
“What did he do, Wren, back in middle school? Give me a hint. Just one tiny dust bunny-sized hint.”
Wren’s silent, glowering.
“Avery told me she hired guys from her parent’s docks. She said she hated Sophia. What did she hire them to do? I know you know. I know you were there when it happened.”
He flinches.
“Avery told me to film it. That’s the only reason I was there. I was head of the film club in middle school. I had access to all the cameras, so she bribed me into coming to the park and hiding in the bushes with her and filming it.”
“Filming what?” I hiss.
The lunch bell rings before he can answer, and he gets up and leaves quickly, shame crippling his face.
I walk alongside Jack and Kayla as they go to their next class. I zap a revenge-suspect with a glare, and she veers off course with her handful of shaving cream. That’s right, keep walking. There’ll be no shaving-cream-on-Kayla-lovely-face today, thank you very much. Or, if there is, I will shave you. Down to the bone.
“You’re making threats aloud,” Jack deadpans.
“It’s good for business,” I chime. Kayla smiles, and links her other arm with mine.
“I’ve got two of my favorite people right here. It’s amazing. You’re amazing!”
I shoot her a sheepish smile and she ruffles my hair. How could I have ever been jealous of such an innocent, lovely girl? I’m ashamed of myself, a hot knot working its way into my throat, chock full of guilt. She deserves a better friend than me. She deserves castles and kingdoms and all the fairytale endings that still exist in this meager world. All of them should be hers.
She kisses Jack on the cheek and goes into the Chem lab. Jack and I stand outside the door, each with different classes, but a tense thread rooting us to our place in front of the mottled glass.
Jack speaks without looking at me.
“You’re happy.”
“Generally, yeah.”
“No. Not generally. Generally you’re miserably sad and dour, hiding it behind the jokes and passionate outbursts. You’re like fire. But it’s a sickly fire. Everyone can see that.”