Keep Holding On (9 page)

But first, I have to get this blood off the chair.

I rummage through my bag until I find a copy of the school newspaper. I put that on my chair, covering up the stain. Then I put my bag on top of the newspaper and go to my locker. Kids are yelling and slamming lockers and leaving. No one notices me.

Please don’t let Carly be here.

I make it to my locker and tie the cardigan around my waist. Then I get a few wet paper towels from the bathroom. I scrub my chair. The paper towels work. I quickly wipe the seat clean and dry it. You can’t even tell what happened.

Not like last time.

When this happened two years ago, it was the middle of the day. I got up, saw the blood, and there was nothing I could do about it. The next class was already coming in. There wasn’t any time to clean my chair. I was horrified that I had to leave it stained, but I didn’t have a choice.

I ran out before anyone saw.

In the hall, I could hear the boy who sat there after me complaining. He yelled how there was no way he was sitting there and that was disgusting and who sat there before him?

Of course Ms. Morrison knew it was me. I had no idea how I’d ever be able to face her again. And she had no idea I was sort
of friends with Ali Walsh, who was in her next class with Yelling Boy. So Ms. Morrison assumed I wouldn’t find out what happened next.

She took out a box of latex gloves, pulled a pair on, and got out some Windex and a roll of paper towels. Then she cleaned the chair while everyone freaked out. Freshmen are the worst. Ali told me that everyone was making retching noises and period jokes and Caitlin Holt actually screamed. As if the blood were going to spurt off the chair and destroy her couture. Ali didn’t want to tell me any of this, but I made her. I needed to know how bad it was.

After Ms. Morrison cleaned the chair, she told Yelling Boy to sit down.

He would not.

“There’s no way I’m sitting on that,” he repeated. “It’s contaminated.”

“You just saw me clean it,” Ms. Morrison said.

“Windex doesn’t cut it, miss.”

Ms. Morrison ripped some fresh paper towels off the roll. She put them on the chair.

“Germs can’t travel through a paper boundary,” she explained. “I’ll make sure the janitors clean the chair later.”

That sounded like a crock, but it worked. Yelling Boy sat down and shut up. Which should have been the end of it.

But it wasn’t. He showed up early the next day to see who sat there before him.

It didn’t take long for the whole school to hear that I’m a chair contaminator.

Item on Things to Remember When I’m a Teacher list:

Something tells me I won’t forget this one.

The phone rings as I’m studying for a Spanish test. I’m assuming it’s a bill collector. So I’m not exactly jumping out of my chair to get the phone. But if I don’t get it, mother will barge in and make me. She always forces me to answer and tell bill collectors she’s not here. Avoiding unnecessary mother drama is always the best tactic.

I pick up the phone in the kitchen.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is Noelle there?”

“This is Noelle.”

“Hey, it’s Julian.”

I’m shocked into silence. Julian never calls me.
Ever.

“Julian Porter?” he says. “From school?”

“Yeah, no, I … hey.”

“Are you studying for our Spanish test?”

“Ugh.” I run into the living room to make sure mother’s not in there. “That preterite conditional is killing me.” She must be in her room. But her door is halfway open. She could be listening to my entire conversation. “What about you?” I run back to the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing steady.

“Haven’t even started.”

“
Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

I hunker down against the farthest cabinet. Mother shouldn’t be able to hear me this way. I’ve caught her spying before.

“So …” Julian says. “Do you ever go into the city?”

“Not as much as I want to.”

“It’s awesome there.”

“Like a whole other world.”

“Do you want to go with me sometime?”

Wait. Is Julian Porter asking me out?

“It doesn’t have to be like a … date,” Julian says. “Or whatever. We could just go have some fun.”

“I like fun.”

I like fun?
Seriously?

“Cool, so—”

“But I can’t go.”

“Oh.”

I desperately want to say yes. But even if we just went as friends, it wouldn’t be right. I could never do that to Matt. I’d hate it if Matt hung out with some girl he liked.

“It’s just … it’s complicated,” I say.

“Bummer. Well, I guess I’ll just have to have fun without you.”

I can’t believe this is really happening. I can’t believe Julian doesn’t know he’s too good for me. Maybe he doesn’t see it now. But eventually, he will. And he’ll realize he’s better off without me.

Ms. Scofield is
extra perky today.

“Inertia!” she cheers. “Bet you didn’t know that our optics unit relates to Newton’s Laws. But it does. Everything is connected. So. Who remembers Newton’s First Law?”

We all avert our eyes to prevent getting called on.

“Like I’m really going to believe you guys forgot Newton’s Laws? You’re smarter than that.”

I hear someone flipping through their notes in the back. Jolene DelMonico raises her hand.

“Yay!” Ms. Scofield says. “A sign of life! What can you tell us?”

“An object in motion remains in motion and an object at rest remains at rest unless acted upon by an outside force.”

“Exactly. So things keep doing what they’re doing unless something comes along to change that. That’s inertia.”

She grabs the Gumby and Pokey figures that are always smiling at us from her desk. She’s had them since she was in high school. One time she said how she wished she had more stuff from high school to show us and how she regrets not keeping her journals. I wonder why she got rid of all those things.

“Gumby and Pokey will now demonstrate inertia.” Ms. Scofield places them on the demo table.

Then she just watches them. We watch her watch them.

“What’s happening?” she asks.

“Nothing,” Warner calls out.

He’s sharp, that one.

“Can you be more specific?”

“They’re just sitting there.”

“Why?”

“Because nothing’s making them move.”

“Aha!” Ms. Scofield yells. Ali’s book falls off her desk with a loud smack. “So something has to happen to change their inaction. They’ll keep being still like this until something comes along to change their static state. For Gumby and Pokey, inertia means that they’ll stay exactly like this unless an outside force makes them move in some way.”

I know all about inertia. This town is squishing me down like a bug it really wants to kill, but is having too much fun torturing.

“But then!” Ms. Scofield smacks Gumby. Gumby goes flying toward the door. “An outside force puts Gumby into motion.” Gumby skitters across the floor and stops. “And now he’s at rest again. What made Gumby stop moving?”

“Friction,” a few people offer.

“Nice. You guys sound tired. Feeling tired today?” Ms. Scofield picks up Pokey. She puts him on her head.

“Awesome,” Simon declares. He snaps a picture of Ms. Scofield with his phone.

“That phone’s not on, is it?” she asks him.

“Of course not. It’s on airplane mode.”

“Doesn’t ‘on airplane mode’ mean it’s on?”

“It’s not
on
on,” Simon clarifies. “Just minimally on.”

I love how Ms. Scofield is having a regular conversation like a rubber pony isn’t standing on her head. She’s never afraid to look like a nerd. On the first day, she told us that she’s the nerdiest person in the room. And that no one should even try to have a dork-off with her because they would drastically lose that battle. Her corny, zany teaching style works. I’m pretty sure we’ll always remember inertia after watching Gumby go zinging across the room.

Inertia and I go way back. An object remains at rest unless acted upon by an outside force. Story of my life.

I wonder what my outside force will be.

I tried calling Sherae last night right after I got off the phone with Julian, but her phone was off. She’s been turning it off a lot lately. At first I thought it was to avoid Hector’s calls, but she said he stopped calling her so I don’t know. She wasn’t online, either. I left a message saying I had something major to discuss at our daily meetup.

Sherae is violently ripping up a piece of paper at her locker.

“Another note?” I ask.

“The dumbass strikes again. So what’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing.” There’s some white Nimbus fur on the sleeve of her black cardigan. I brush it off. “Just that Julian asked me out.”

“He asked you
out
?!”

I nod.

“When?”

“He called me last night.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried. Your phone was off and you weren’t online.”

“Dude. He is so in love with you.”

“Hardly.”

“What did you say?”

“What do you think?”

“That you realize Matt is a skeeze and of course you’ll go out with Julian?”

“First off, Matt is not a skeeze. It just takes him a while to open up to people. And I couldn’t go out with Julian even if I wasn’t with Matt.”

“Why not?”

I give Sherae a look like,
Isn’t it obvious?

“Why
not
?” she demands.

“I’m not … enough for him.”

“How can you think that? He totally likes you. I told you that fight with Warner was about you.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m with Matt.”

“But you have a choice. You don’t have to be with Matt. You could be with Julian.”

“Maybe I want to be with Matt. Maybe that’s why I’m with him.”

“Or maybe you’re afraid to have something real with a boy who clearly adores you.”

“Matt adores me.”

“Really? Because last time I checked, he stood you up. Oh, and he refuses to be seen with you in public.”

Why does Sherae have to be so nasty about this? Just because Matt isn’t acting the way she wants him to doesn’t make him unworthy. I know he cares about me. He just needs more time, is all.

Not that I’m about to explain all this to Sherae again. It’s better just to drop it. I cannot get in a fight with her about this. Or about anything. She’s the only person I can completely count on to be there for me.