The two girls looked at each other. “Did she really say that?” Patty asked.
“Actually, she told me the first part,” I admitted. “Then I said a stupid thing, like, ‘What if I don’t get married in that tuxedo?’ and then she said the second part.”
Patty shook her head. “Jim, you can’t treat her feelings like that.”
I lowered my head. “Yeah. I regretted saying that the moment it came out of my mouth. You’re right, I might be cracking too many jokes. I think I was just trying to recover from my amazement, as well as the fact that she seems determined to spend the rest of her life with me. It sometimes feels as if I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
Patty hugged me. “It’s going very fast for you, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “As fast as Kristen in her Camaro on Dodger Road,” I quipped, a reference to a deserted road near Kristen’s house where I’ve seen her hit speeds that would frighten Mario Andretti. “Patty… Camille… I would love to spend the rest of my life just worshiping that wonderful girl. I know she feels the same way about me, but sometimes… sometimes… I just… I don’t know.”
Camille spoke up. “Jim, you have music in third period. Can you skip it?”
I shook my head. “Today’s the first day back. We’re getting the music for the spring concert. And I also need to put together a program for the jazz band.”
“After school is bad for me today… cheerleader practice,” Camille replied. “How about third period tomorrow?”
I looked at the blonde haired senior. “I’ll talk to Mr. Proilet. I skipped his class once when I was in a funk about something, but he didn’t seem to mind. He probably won’t mind if I let him know in advance.”
“I have lunch during third period,” Camille explained. “Can you meet me in the library tomorrow?”
“Sure. I’ll need a library pass…”
“I’ll take care of that. Just show up in the library for third.”
The warning bell sounded, and the three of us departed for our home rooms.
Before music class started, I explained to Mr. Proilet that I needed to use the library during class tomorrow, and without hesitation, I was given permission. Mr. Proilet also made out a library pass for me.
The day was normal until eighth period.
I entered my English class, and as usual, I said “Hi!” to Sherry before taking my seat. Even before the late bell rang, Ms. Taylor, my English teacher, called me to her desk.
“You’re constantly disrupting this class,” she said, her eyes blazing at me. “You’re on detention for the entire week.”
“Huh? What did I do?” I protested.
“You know what you did,” Ms. Taylor said. “Get back to your seat or it will be two weeks.”
I couldn’t believe it. I was on detention for the first time in my life, and I didn’t even have any idea about what I might have done wrong!
Detention meant that I would have to stay in Ms. Taylor’s classroom for an hour after school went out. Since she was my last class, I could just stay there.
This was terrible—being on detention for a week would mean that I would not be able to attend jazz band rehearsal today, where we would have to start getting ready for the spring concert.
What did I do? The only thing I did when I entered the room was to say “Hi!” to Sherry and head for my seat. I did my homework, and I thought I was doing pretty well in class, although an essay that I wrote right before vacation contained many red marks in it—nitpicking, actually. I was debating whether to discuss that with the teacher, but right now wasn’t a good time for that.
How could my teacher say that I was disrupting her class? I didn’t have any idea. I rarely talked in class, and the only thing that people giggled at (even more nowadays after the Christmas concert) was when people called me “Oogie,” but that hadn’t even happened in that class today.
When the class let out, I went over to Sherry to have her tell Kristen about my situation, but Ms. Taylor loudly told me to take my seat and to shut up.
Now, I knew that this was completely wrong! There was a ten minute period between the end of class and the start of detention to allow people to get things ready or to get to their class. Instead of arguing with the teacher, I simply ignored her and left the classroom to find Mr. Proilet. There was jazz band rehearsal after class, and I needed to let him know that I was going to miss it.
My music teacher was gathering his papers when I found him. “Mr. Proilet, it seems that I have detention for a week.”
“You?” Mr. Proilet asked, incredulously. “What did you do?”
“I’m not sure. Ms. Taylor didn’t actually say. She’s angry at me, and I won’t be able to do the jazz class today.”
My teacher looked at me and sighed. “You aren’t a bad student, Jim. Are you telling me that Ms. Taylor didn’t tell you why you were put on detention?”
“No,” I said, my anger starting to rise again. “It must be some misunderstanding, but I should be in her class right now.”
“Let me come with you,” Mr. Proilet said.
The two of us returned to my English class. When Ms. Taylor saw me, she was about to say something until she saw Mr. Proilet, who was right behind me.
“Reneé, Jim tells me that he has detention for a week.”
“Two weeks,” Ms. Taylor said. “He walked out on me after I told him to stay after class.”
“He has jazz band rehearsal after class. He came to tell me that he wouldn’t be able to make it.”
“I don’t care if your little pet here isn’t able to attend his after school activity. He’s on detention and that cancels extracurricular activities. You are quite aware of that.”
My music teacher looked at Ms. Taylor as if she grew another head. “Detention doesn’t start until ten minutes after school ends. He came back on time… I’m here with him! Would you care to discuss this with the front office?”
I saw Ms. Taylor glare at Mr. Proilet. She started to say something, but then stopped, and said, “All right. It’s one week, at least for now.”
From the sound of Ms. Taylor’s voice, I knew that she would probably find a way to extend my detention. I wondered how this situation actually started.
Looking from Ms. Taylor, to me, and then back, Mr. Proilet decided that further intrusion would be unwise. He said, “I’ll take care of the jazz band for you today, Jim.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I watched Mr. Proilet leave. After he was gone, I said, “Excuse me, Ms. Taylor, but if I have disrupted your class…”
“You know very well what you did,” Ms. Taylor snapped. “Now, shut your face, take your seat and start writing an essay about the importance of education.”
I sighed. I opened my attaché case and retrieved a pen and my notebook. I saw my roll of tickets and rejected the idea of using them on Ms. Taylor.
I did the assignment, all the while thinking about the injustice of all this.
Kristen met me after class, and she took us to our apartment. Mr. Proilet had taken her aside during the rehearsal and let her know why I wasn’t at class.
Kristen commiserated with me about the apparent injustice over what my English teacher was doing, but she couldn’t offer any advice. She also said that Mr. Proilet asked her if she wanted to perform in the spring concert as a second keyboardist. Kristen didn’t want to edge out Amy, so she didn’t give any definite answer.
I nodded and then got an idea. “What if you take the electric piano that you got me for Christmas. We would have both Amy on acoustic and you on electric. It could add a nice texture to the sound of the band.”