Punk Like Me (23 page)

Maybe someday I could ease it into conversation, feel Samantha out about the whole thing, and tell her. Someday, but deÞ nitely not today. God, if Samantha had stayed at the party, I would have introduced them…

Samantha digested my words in silence, and I was now distinctly uncomfortable again, because I didn’t want to talk about how close Kerry and I had become so very recently, and that made me think of her mouth, which made me think about her body and how it felt to touch her, and the incredible feeling of being so close and, gosh, it was getting warm in that car.

I had to get air. “Hey, what time is it? We have to get in before—” I’d just started to speak when the school bell rang out, letting us know we were now ofÞ cially late for homeroom, and my heart sank a notch.

“Fuck. Well, that’s that,” Samantha said matter-of-factly. “Shall we?” She opened her door.

“Surely. Let’s,” I replied with a smile, opening my own, grabbing my books, and getting out. Samantha snatched her books and gym bag

• 149 •

out of the trunk, slammed it shut, and we started to make our way to the building.

“Hey, Sam?” I asked as we walked, “where’s your uniform?”

“Oh, heh.” She laughed lowly. “Um, one of those loopholes you found, actually. You know, the one that says you have to wear the uniform in school unless you have exception days, but it doesn’t really say anything about outside the building, except for the sweater versus the blazer thing, especially if it’s cold out. You just have to have it on by the time you walk into homeroom, or a classroom, if you’re late.

So…it’s in my locker.” She paused. “I did it yesterday, too.” She grinned at me slyly, and I grinned back. Another stupidity smashed, courtesy of Samantha and Nina. Very cool, very cool. We kept walking.

“By the way, Nina, you still playing guitar?” I’d picked it up, guitar I mean, the year before, and it had taken me the better part of a year to Þ nd and buy the one I was learning on. It was challenging, but I really loved it (and obviously still do), and I had Þ nally started to progress beyond “Mary Had A Little Lamb.”

“Oh yeah, I’m still playing. Still learning, though,” I cautioned,

“so it’s nothing great.”

“Yeah, right.” Samantha smiled at me. “Like I’d ever believe that.

We should jam sometime, you know?”

“Hey, that would be cool. Yeah, sure.” I grinned back.

We both reached the door, but Samantha grabbed it and held it for me. “No, go ahead. You were sick, so you need all the rest you can get,” she teased.

“Hey, you’re right!” I smilingly agreed and went through.

We got in the building, and I led the way up the landing to the Þ rst ß oor where all the upperclassmen homerooms were. As I pulled open that door, I ran straight into Attila the Nun herself. Shit, I groaned inside, and my heart stopped dead, then fell another notch. Samantha was just a step or two behind me and coming up fast.

“Well, well, well, Boyd. Absent yesterday, late today, I see,” and she peeked over my shoulder at Samantha as she walked right behind me. “Oh, and who is this? Cray? What a surprise to see the two of you, late, together. Come in, girls, please, by all means, come in. Welcome to school,” and she held the door wide open so we could fully enter the hallway. We stood side by side before the good sister.

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PUNK LIKE ME

“Would you like breakfast? Slippers? Clean blankie?” she asked caustically. “Are we sleepies this morning, girls? Should I send you poor dears home to bed, tuck you in? It seems Razor and Blade aren’t particularly sharp this morning, seeing as Boyd can’t tell solid black or navy from green and black checks, and Cray here forgot to wear her uniform!” She was almost yelling by the time she got to the last part, and I can’t speak for Samantha, but I could feel myself shrink in my coat.

Soon, I’d be so small I’d be invisible, and all my stuff would fall to the ß oor, and I could run away unnoticed by all except quantum physicists. I wished. Boy, did I wish. I wished so hard I’m surprised I didn’t rupture something. Instead of shrinking, though, I stood up straight. If I was going to be in trouble, I’d take it head up and on the chin at least.

“So how about it, Blade?” Sister stretched the word out to sound like a curse. “Where’s your uniform? Co-captain of the swim team,” she added, twisting her mouth in scorn. It was amazing to me that someone as small as Attila the Nun could radiate such malice.

“It’s in my locker, Sister,” Samantha answered evenly, though out of the corner of my eye, I could see the stress on her face. “I was going to get it and put it on now.”

“You’ll be doing some gardening after swim practice this Saturday here at the convent, it would seem,” Sister informed her silkily, watching for her reaction.

I set my shoulders straight. “In the handbook, Sister,” I quickly interrupted, “it says that the student must appear in homeroom in full uniform or their class instead, if they’re late. I believe that speciÞ city is to give us leeway in wearing such things as leg warmers or even pants should the weather require it, in the same way that we’re permitted to wear boots and change into our shoes once we arrive,” I concluded hastily. Samantha shot me the merest ß ash of a grin and a look of gratitude.

Sister turned on me like lightning. Samantha rolled her eyes behind her back. “Shut up, Boyd. I haven’t even started with you yet.” Sister came and sneered up into my face, Þ nger in my chest. “I’ll be seeing you after school today.”

Fuck. The meet! Kerry! My parents! I was fuckin’ dead all around.

Why Sister didn’t just kill me and get it over with, I didn’t know. It

• 151 •

seemed that she absolutely delighted in torturing and terrifying us. If they had at least brought back corporal punishment, the pain would end eventually, I think, but this, the viciousness of it, it lasted forever, and it’s not something I’ve ever really gotten over. I don’t think anyone who has dealt with something like it has, either.

“Excuse me, Sister.” Samantha stood very straight and squared her shoulders smartly. “I’m sure as moderator of the swim team, you are aware that we have a major meet tonight, one that requires a win.

Nina is the anchor on the relays, and one of our best freestylers, and as such, she cannot be absent from the roster tonight.”

“I don’t care if she’s the King of Prussia and tonight she has to disarm all the nuclear bombs and bring down heaven on earth—” Sister said, but Samantha interrupted her again.

“Tonight, she does her Þ rst endurance race, Sister, and I offered her a ride to school this morning. As co-captain of the team, I asked her to review some strategies with me that would help her performance.

It’s my fault she’s late, Sister,” Samantha continued. “She shouldn’t be punished for following the direct request of a team captain.”

“Sam, don’t…” I said. I was going to open my mouth to say something, and I tried, but the ß ash in Samantha’s eyes and the quick negative shake of her head stopped me.

“No, no, Boyd, don’t interrupt. I want to hear what else Cray has to say.”

“Succinctly, Sister, I am both a senior within the school and a team leader. ‘Behavior of any classmen under any upperclassmen is the upperclassman’s responsibility, for sophomores and above,’” Samantha quoted to her straight from the handbook. “Therefore, a junior is a senior’s responsibility, and as both an upperclassman and Nina’s captain, I requested that she speak with me, and I should have paid attention to the time. This is very obviously my responsibility, and neither Nina nor the team should suffer for it.” Samantha concluded and stood stock-still, her eyes steady on Sister Attila’s.

I never respected Kitt as much as I respected Samantha at that moment.

Sister took a step back, crossed one arm across her chest, and leaned the other elbow on it, resting her chin on her palm, as if logically Þ guring out astronomy equations. Of course, that was very possible—

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PUNK LIKE ME

she was the math teacher, after all.

“Okay, then.” Sister straightened and placed her hands on her hips. “You,” and she pointed at Samantha, “have Saturday detention after swim practice as we have already discussed, and you,” she pointed to me, “will help with the garden on Saturday as well, instead of staying after today. Since the two of you insist on sticking together and being a team, then as a team you’ll work on Saturday, and as team captain, Ms.

Cray, you will spend the rest of the week as of tomorrow instructing Ms. Boyd as well as yourself in the lovely intricacies of differential equations and artiÞ cial division, since I am
lucky
enough to have you both on the math team as well.”

She observed us, making sure the impact of her words had sunk in, then glanced at her watch. “Cray, you have four minutes before homeroom is over. I suggest you put your uniform on,” and her gaze ripped across Samantha with venom, “so that you may be within handbook guidelines,” she grimaced, “and attempt to be both not late for Þ rst period and enter the classroom in appropriate attire. I shall inform your homeroom teacher as to your whereabouts. And you, Boyd,” she focused on me next, “have assignments to make up. I suggest you spend the next four minutes discovering what they are. Dismissed, girls,” and she turned on her heel to stalk down the corridor, hands now clasped behind her back, and Samantha and I started to relax.

“Oh, and one last thing?” Sister turned back, and Samantha and I both straightened up. Sister gave us a hard, evaluating glance, then nodded with a satisÞ ed expression on her face, as if we had passed some sort of inspection or test. “I’ll see you in the water, Razor, Captain.” She nodded at us each and turned again to stride off—probably to not only speak with Samantha’s homeroom teacher, but also to commune with God or something.

Maybe we had passed something important, after all. I don’t know and Sister never told.

“Can you fuckin’ believe it?” I turned to Samantha and asked, rolling my eyes. “The day hasn’t even fuckin’ started yet!”

“Tell me about it!” Samantha had a frustrated look on her face that matched the way I felt and shifted her bags on her shoulder.

“All right then, here’s the deal. Meet me at my car at the end of the day as soon as you get out, and we’ll zoom back to your place, ’kay?”

• 153 •

Samantha Þ rmed up the remainder of our earlier plan.

“Yeah, will do. Thanks again,” and this time I gave a real grin,

“Sammy Blade.”

Samantha chuckled once under her breath. “You just make sure you slice that lane wide open tonight, Razor.” She grinned back at me.

“Hey, I’ll slice, you dice,” I joked back. We shared that smile just a bit longer, then both remembered we had to get to class. “I’ll see you later, Sammy,” I told her, still smiling.

“Yup,” Samantha agreed, and after a quick nod at each other, we both took off for our lockers and homerooms.

It took me seconds to get everything settled in and to grab the texts and notebooks I’d need for the Þ rst four periods, and I opened the door to homeroom just moments before the bell rang.

Sister Carlos looked up from her desk. “It’s so very nice of you to join us, Ms. Boyd, though it is a wee bit late,” she said mildly, and she glanced up at the clock set on the back wall of the room, then back at me, emphasizing the point. “Are we feeling better today? We do still look a bit peaky. We’ll not be passing the plague around school, will we?” she asked with a tolerant smile.

“Uh, no, Sister. I mean, yes, Sister. I feel better. I’m sure I’m not plague-ridden, not yet anyway, um, ma’am.” Instead of good cop-bad cop, we had sweet and sour nuns. I pictured a group of nuns, some covered in Chinese mustard and some in duck sauce, and smiled, then quickly swallowed it. I didn’t want to get asked what I thought was so amusing—that would have been some explanation. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that this day was just not going to improve tremendously.

“Do we have an absence note, Ms. Boyd?” Sister held her hand out expectantly.

Shit! No! Usually my mom left those on the counter, and she’d forgotten to do it, which was actually very unusual, and I’d forgotten to remind her. Actually, my mom had been sort of weird this morning, I hadn’t even seen her. How often did that happen? And I think she was in the room with my dad. He didn’t go to work? That was very strange.

I hope he wasn’t sick or something…

“Ms. Boyd?” asked Sister expectantly, “your note?” I collected myself. “I’m sorry, Sister. I don’t have it with me today.”

• 154 •

PUNK LIKE ME

“Make sure you have it tomorrow, then, Ms. Boyd, or you’ll have to stay after for three afternoons next week. I understand your dance card this week has already been Þ lled,” Sister stated matter-of-factly.

How did she know already? How did the Sisters do that? I swear they had radio transmitters in their headgear! The antenna was probably in the band, and the beads were stations. The cruciÞ x had to be a microphone, a direct line to God or to each other—whoever answered Þ rst, I guess, I thought wryly.

“Yes, Sister, I’ll have it for you tomorrow.” I was relieved. She had let me slide, and since she had returned her attention to her desk, I started to make my way to my seat. But just as I got there and put my books on the desk, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of Þ rst period.

“Nina, a moment, please?” Sister requested as we Þ led past her desk toward the door.

“Yes, Sister Carlos?” I turned to her from the doorway.

“Slice the lane, Razor!” Her crystal blue eyes twinkled like you imagine Santa’s would as she smiled at me and gave me a thumbs-up.

“I’ll do my very best, Sister,” I answered honestly and smiled in return. I turned to leave but winced internally; there was nothing like pressure.

“That’s all we ask for, Nina, your absolute very, very best,” I heard her say as I walked out into the hallway to my Þ rst class of the day.

By history, I was trying to sneak some homework from English in, and by lunchtime, I sat with my little group busting my brain over quadratic equations, both from last night and for this night. Sister Attila was also my math teacher and, trust me, she had a few special words for me when class began, after we were all seated.