Connection (Le Garde) (5 page)

Aaron stopped at a stop sign a couple blocks from my house. “I’ll get out here,” I said, grabbing my bag from the floor.

“
Are you sure?” Aaron asked. “We’re only a few blocks away.”

“
Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks for the ride.”

“
Next Monday?” Aaron asked, unsure whether this argument had changed our arrangement.

“
Sure.” I put my hand on the handle. I met his eyes for just a minute, and I was suddenly reminded how cute he’d gotten. Maybe even more than cute. He’d grown into his ears, which used to be too big for him, and his hazel eyes studied me. I swallowed. “Same place, same time?”

“
Yeah,” Aaron said with relief.

I opened the door. “Thanks for the ride,” I repeated, then shut the door.

It was difficult to walk away, almost painful, but soon his emotions faded, and then he was out of my head, and I was out of his.

4. le foudre (lightning)

Aaron

I turned my weekly questions into Mrs. Hart on Tuesday, and she looked at me with surprise. “Thank you, Aaron,” she said.

“
Better late than never, right?” I asked.

She turned away, but not before giving me a look like I’d just grown an extra head. Maybe I should have made the answers less perfect, made it look like I was struggling. I sighed; she’d probably figure I cheated. I’d have to have less Anna-like answers the next time. Oh, damn, I already filled out next week’s questions, too.

At the end of the class, I asked for a new sheet, saying I lost mine, and during Trig, I redid them. All this knowledge had fled my mind when Anna bailed out of the car yesterday, so it wasn’t hard to completely muck up a few of the questions.

During lunch, I watched her walk to Steven’s car and get in with him. I wondered if her mom knew about her lunches off campus. They drove by the sidewalk I was standing on with Chandler, and I closed my eyes as she fled by, just a flash of her mind. I was kind of dizzy afterwards. I hated when that happened, especially because Steven drove like he thought he was a NASCAR driver.

“
Hey, let me use your phone, I left mine in my locker,” Chandler said, holding out his hand.

I handed my cell over and put my hands in my pockets again. A moment later, Chandler asked, “You talking to Anna again?”

I glanced over at him. “What do you mean?” 

“
She’s in your contacts again.” 

Right, she’d be one of the first ones. Anyone would see that if they went looking through my contacts. Good thing not a lot of people did.

I shrugged. “Yeah, she’s helping me in Composition.”

Chandler called his on-again, off-again girlfriend Stacey. I rolled my eyes as they started arguing about the date they were supposed to go on that Friday. He raked his hand through his spiky brown hair, making it stick up even more. They eventually seemed to come to kind of compromise, and Chandler hung up after telling her he loved her.

“
You guys are ridiculous,” I said, pocketing my phone. “You want to go to Taco Bell?”

“
Sure,” Chandler replied. “Where’s Jordan?”

I set off for my car, Chandler behind me. “Detention. I think he called Mrs. Gallagher fat or something.” We reached the car, and I said, “Don’t tell him about me and Anna, yeah?”

Chandler raised his eyebrows. “Why not?”

“
I don’t know, he’s just weird about her,” I said, unlocking my door and then his.

He flung his backpack into the backseat, got in, and pulled on his seatbelt. “Last time I checked, you were jealous of him when it came to Anna.”

“
But remember when I tried to make up with her, and he got really pissed? Didn’t think I should be friends with her again, and he took it out on her.” I shook my head. “I think there’s something wrong with him.”

Chandler laughed, but I was serious. Why couldn’t he leave her alone? Okay, the nacho thing had been pretty harmless, I was just worried he’d do something worse. I’d kind of been in ostrich-mode last year—you know, the whole head in the ground thing—but I was seriously starting to wonder how the hell I could have let him be such an asshole to her.  “Anyways, don’t tell him,” I told Chandler.

“
Okay, I won’t,” Chandler said, but I still don’t think he understood why. I just hoped he’d keep his mouth shut.

* * *

When I walked into Band, I’d expected to see Anna in her usual seat next to the two other clarinet players, but she wasn’t there. She was usually early for this class, probably because her previous period was right next door. Yeah, I knew her schedule, but it wasn’t because I was watching her or anything. She was always thinking about Yearbook while I got ready.

Anyways, I went to my spot and took my saxophone out of its case. Mr. Boyd was pacing around in the front, stressing out about the Spring concert, but he was always stressed when it came to performances.

“
He’s pretty bad today,” Michael said, rolling his eyes before tuning his sax.

“
I know, right?” Melissa added. She was the only girl sax player of the four of us. She was a good sport, even going so far as standing next to Harry and saying nothing about his BO.

We started practicing before the class even started. Some of the band members that trickled in looked confused, glancing at the clock on the wall; others just ignored Mr. Boyd’s annoyed looks.

We were five minutes into the official beginning of class when Anna rushed in. I felt her before I saw her, and I messed up a note just as she jogged past Mr. Boyd. It was a pretty bad mess up, sounded a lot like a goose, and Michael actually started laughing. His sax hit the clarinet player Jenna in the head, and Melissa broke into giggles, and then Mr. Boyd had to stop the whole band.

“
What is going on over there?” he demanded. “Oh, Anna, nice to see you’ve joined us. Your lateness is causing quite a stir.”

“
It was him,” Michael said, grinning and pointing at me.

I wanted to tell Mr. Boyd it was actually Anna’s fault, but he glared at both of us and said, “From the top.”

I was worried that Jordan was the reason she was late, but I was then accosted with Anna’s affection for Steven. I nearly threw up my chicken burrito.

Halfway through class, while he was working with the brass section, Melissa leaned forward and tapped Anna’s shoulder. “You want to practice today after school?” Melissa asked. They had a duet at the concert next week.

“
Sure,” Anna said. She half-glanced at me, but her feelings were all muddled, and mine were, too. I was thinking about our conversation in the car, how she’d known I was wondering about her and Steven. Ugh, Steven.

She turned back at Melissa, and they talked more about their meeting time. I thought I should talk with Michael so it didn’t seem like I was listening to their conversation, but Mr. Boyd called us all together before I had the chance.

After Band, Anna left before I could talk to her. She had to be avoiding me. I knew I should apologize about everything that happened, but.
 
.
 
.I already did, and it all happened so long ago. Why bring it all up again? I thought about it as I drove home after school.

As soon as I pulled up, Mitch barged out of the front door. “Do you ever answer your phone?” he demanded. He was wearing slacks and a button-up shirt. It looked weird.

I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket. Four missed calls, five missed texts, the last of which had pretty much all the dirty four-letter-words you could think of. “Um,” I said as Mitch pushed past me and got into the car. “Sorry, it was on silent. I go to school, you know.”

He started the engine and drove off. I looked down at my phone with amusement. Last time my phone rang in class, Miss Valencia took it away and didn’t give it back until my dad called and complained.

Inside, I dropped my backpack on the couch. “Hey, I’m home,” I called as I went into the kitchen.

“
Did Mitch get a hold of you?” Mom asked, looking up from her scrapbooking stuff, which covered the table. Tuesday. Her scrapbooking friends would be over tonight, and they’d bring out the baby photos and the awkward school pictures and all that.

“
Yeah, he just took off,” I said. “A job interview?”

“
Yeah, with the newspaper,” Mom said, beaming. She looked at her watch, and her smile faded. “Aaron, It starts in ten minutes.”

“
My phone was on silent. What was I supposed to do, get out of school early? He should have told me yesterday.” I pulled the orange juice out of the fridge. Mom watched me, so I resorted to using a glass.

“
So, you have any homework today?”

“
Of course. It’s never-ending. It’s a pit of despair. A Zoo of Death. A rodent of unusual size.” I waved the peanut butter around with melodrama.

“
You need a miracle man,” Mom said, looking up from her shoeboxes to smile at me.

“
Ah, but I have one! A miracle woman, actually,” I said as I started making a sandwich. “Anna’s helping with Composition and US Government and History.”

Dad came in just then. “Really?”

“
Are you guys friends again?” Mom asked. Her eyes were wide and hopeful. She’d always liked Anna a lot more than Dad did. Dad didn’t care for most kids who weren’t his own, and even then, we barely made it.

“
Uh, I don’t know, really,” I said with a shrug.

“
She’s not doing your homework for you, is she?” Dad asked, leaning on the fridge.

“
No. She doesn’t like me that much yet.”

There was a moment of silence as I finished my PB&J. Mom still worried about ‘how I was getting along without Anna.’ Like she wasn’t sure how I’d survive without her. Dad didn’t seem to care.

“
Well, I’ll be calling Mrs. Hart next week,” Mom said. “You turned in your weekly questions this week, right?”

“
Of course,” I said thickly, my mouth full. “A day late, but she only takes ten points off for that.”

My parents exchanged an annoyed look, and Mom shook her head. “Hey, look,” she said, her face brightening. She held a picture up. “It’s you and Anna.”

I walked forward to the table and took the picture. It was from the eighth grade pizza social and the disposable camera I had. Anna had braces and wore a Harry Potter shirt. My ears were too big for my head, and I wore the Nirvana shirt Mitch got me for my thirteenth birthday. I still had that thing. It was falling apart and didn’t really fit me anymore. I’d grown like five inches and quite a few pounds since eighth grade. We were sitting in the cafeteria, our arms around each other’s shoulders, beaming at the camera. I remembered our old friend Tyler took the picture before he moved away.

“
Why do you have this picture?” I asked Mom. “This is from my camera.”

“
You probably got doubles,” Mom said. She yanked it from my hand before I had the chance to pocket it. She looked at the picture and smiled. Dad looked at it over her shoulder, crossing his arms. “Aren’t they cute, Joe?”

Dad said nothing, nodding even though Mom didn’t look at him. Mom seemed to know he was agreeing with her. Maybe every married couple read each others’ minds, and it was some big conspiracy that they weren’t telling us about. Making us think we were alone. Not that I wanted to marry Anna. I didn’t even think about marriage. I just wondered if we were the only people who had that kind of connection.

“
I think I’ll scrapbook you tonight,” Mom told me, “and middle school.”

I groaned. “I’m going to my room. I’ll reemerge when all the embarrassing photos are back in the closet.”

* * *

Anna and I met again the next Monday at the library. We’d hardly talked over the week, but she seemed friendly enough when she found me at the table with
1984.

“
Hey,” she said with a smile.

“
Hey, yourself.” I reached into my backpack and pulled out my questions from last week. “Mrs. Hart was floored.”

“
Perfect score except for it being late,” Anna said, looking at the peach-colored piece of paper. She gave me a grin, excited for me. Progress for the dunce! “That’s great.”

“
She actually asked me if I was cheating off of someone in class,” I said. “I, uh, I had to tell her you were tutoring me.”

Anna’s excitement dimmed a little. “Okay.”

“
And I got a few ones wrong on the one I turned in today.”

She slid the paper back to me. “That’s probably a good idea. So, how’s your paper going?”

My mouth fell open, and I hit my forehead. “Oh, my god. I forgot all about that thing.” I dragged my hand down my face, pulling my eyes and nose down.