This Girl Is Different (19 page)

To suppress free speech is a double wrong. It violates the rights of the hearer as well as those of the speaker.

—F
REDERICK
D
OUGLASS, ABOLITIONIST AND AUTHOR,
1818–1895

I step back from the microphone. I have to get out of
here. I’m done. I tried.

They won. I got creamed.

I start walking.

To the side, someone hops down from the bleachers.
Running his hand through his coal black hair, he jogs
toward me. Rajas.

More public humiliation? No thanks. I walk faster.

“Evie! Wait!” Jacinda’s voice. It’s too loud. Amplified.

She’s talking into the mic.

Rajas catches up to me and grabs my wrist.

I snap it away. “Back off!”

Jacinda’s voice: “A speak-out is such a great idea.”

The bleachers start to quiet. But it’s a warmer quiet
for Jacinda, without the steely edge of hate.

“I have a quote to share too?” Jacinda says. “It’s from
this guy Felix Frankfurter. Talk about a seriously tragic
name!”

Eager to complete my stoning, and enamored with
Jacinda, the whole school laughs.

I get to the doors. Rajas is right behind me.

Jacinda continues, “Frankfurter said, ‘Wisdom too
often never comes, and so one ought not to reject it
merely because it comes late.’” A pause. “Evie! Come
back.”

I turn around; I can’t help it. Jacinda’s hands become
pistols again. As one, the Cheer Squad turns to face me,
holding their posters overhead.

There is a low murmur, and a bit of applause.

The posters, they are…not what I thought.

Free speech for all!

Speak out!

Speak truth to power!

Jacinda is running toward us, holding the poster with
my name:
Evensong—you are fearless!

Confused, not daring to hope, I look at Rajas.

He smiles his crooked grin. “If you’d stop and listen
for a second, I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Jacinda says, “I’m so sorry, Evie!”

My whole body liquefies with relief, with cautious
hope.

“I couldn’t say anything to you when Ms. Gliss
showed up. But my squad and I talked about it.
Because I knew…we could see that you were right, a
speak-out was a super good idea.” She fingers her
spiky bangs. “I’m still kind of a mess about the whole
thing with, you know—” Jacinda’s shoulders twitch, as
if it’s an enormous effort not to sink into Brookner
quicksand. “Anyways, guess what! I saw you and Ms.
Gliss yesterday coming out of the boy’s locker room! I,
like, totally overheard everything! I cannot believe that
she’s the one who’s been leaving the fricking door
unlocked!”

“You—you were there?” There was a witness. Justice
prevails!

She’s nodding. “Yes! And I went to Dr. Folger and
told him what she did!”

Which explains the look on Ms. Gliss’s face when Dr.
Folger spoke to her just now.

“I’m sorry, Evie. I’m a serious mish-mosh about the
relationship and,” Jacinda winces, shakes her head, “I
can’t believe I posted lightning against you. I’m so, so
sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but—”

“You’re already forgiven,” I say. “I’ve made a ton of
mistakes too. And I miss you so much.”

Her eyes go wide, all dark eyelashes and shimmery
makeup. “Really?”

“Really.”

She hugs me. Everyone is watching us. “You need to
get back.” I twirl Jacinda around to face the noisy
throngs. “Your public awaits.”

“Do you forgive Raj too?” She turns back to Rajas
and me. “Raj told me he did the—you know. The
Brookner lightning. And I mean, I’m mad? But also I’m
just trying to deal with it all…”

Maybe I was too harsh with Rajas. Then again,
maybe I wasn’t. He went behind my back, fed me to
Jacinda, hid me from view, is already seeing someone
else, and hasn’t even tried to apologize for any of it. And
yet. I thirst for him. “I don’t know.”

Rajas walks away.

So that settles it. “See?” I tell Jacinda. “He won’t even fight for me.”

“He misses you.” Tilting her head, “Don’t you want
him back?”

I want to scream
YES! I feel like my heart’s been
ripped out!
But he is putting more distance between us,
walking away, taking his crooked smile with him, his
warm lips, his mind, his love. I squash my feelings
down. “Like you said,” I tell Jacinda, “if he truly loved
me, he wouldn’t have kept me hidden in the shop
room.”

Jacinda cringes. “That was so evil of me.”

“Yeah. It was. But it’s true. I mean, he has to be willing
to take a stand about being together. Or anything
else, for that matter.”

A hush comes over the crowd.

Rajas is changing direction.

He’s heading to the microphone.

Keeping his eyes on me, he stoops to speak into the
mic. “I don’t have a quote.”

Go, Rajas!
A girl’s voice. Followed by a hoot of
approval from someone else.

“Yeah. Thanks.” His face is getting blotchy. “Just
want to say, I think it’s a good thing, to speak out. Speak
your mind, even if the truth turns around to bite you in
the butt.” He pauses to accommodate laughter. “It takes
courage. My girlfriend, Eve”—he points to me—“taught
me that.”

Oh my God.

Did he just do that? Anti-label Rajas publicly stated
he has a girlfriend?

And that it’s
me?

“At least, she used to be my girlfriend,” he says. “But
I was an idiot and messed things up. And I never apologized.
So, here goes.” He gives a nervous smile. “I’m
sorry, Eve. I was an ass.”

“Ohmigod!” Jacinda pushes me toward the mic.
“What are you waiting for! Go get him!”

People start clapping, and it goes rhythmic, a
cadence building into a crescendo. They are waiting for
me to do something.

“But I thought—isn’t he seeing that girl Rosemary?”

“What? Rosemary?” Jacinda makes a face. “No!”

“But she was talking to him. They were planning to
meet after school.”

“Duh! Probably because of Raj’s apprenticeship
thingy. Her dad will be his boss next year.”

“But…that’s it?” I light up inside. I’m electric, radioactive.

“You aren’t going to leave the poor guy standing
there all alone!” Jacinda is still pushing me.

Until she doesn’t have to push me anymore. Rajas
is waiting for me with his beautiful crooked smile.

The crowd starts whooping, laughing, cheering.

Jacinda screams, claps, and runs up and down the
gym. The rest of the Cheer Squad joins her.

My heart is like a magnet, my feet are on autopilot,
until I’m here at center court and Rajas’s eyes are dark
as a new moon midnight and they’re getting closer and
now we’re kissing. The crowd thunders, roars, but all I
can think about is lightning—the real kind—and all I can
hear is the echo of Rajas’s words:
My girlfriend, Eve,
taught me that.

Whatever you do may seem insignificant but it is most important that you do it.

—M
AHATMA
G
ANDHI, SPIRITUAL AND POLITICAL LEADER,
1869–1948

SUGGESTIONS MADE AT THE
IMPROMPTU STUDENT SPEAK-OUT
AT THE HOMECOMING PEP RALLY


Notes taken to edit…some we can put in a new weekly newspaper column, “Students Speak.” It will highlight and look into the good ideas that come from students at monthly lunch speakouts. The speak-outs will be co-facilitated by Dr. Folger, Kelly Lupito (student council president), and Evie Morningdew. The “Students Speak” column will be co-authored by Stiv Wagner (myself, Editor in Chief of the Purple Tornado News) and Evie Morningdew.


(Note: I started taking notes a few minutes into the speakout, so I missed some of the first suggestions.)


* Teachers buy students lunch every Friday.


* Coke machines in the cafeteria.


* Boys should be cheerleaders for girls’ sports.


* Open the unused courtyard (between the library and Home and Career Skills classrooms) for students to use in free periods.


* Once a month students teach the classes.


* Get exercise equipment like treadmills and elliptical trainers in the gym so we can use those instead of being gym class heroes. Because it’s still physical fitness.


* Math club should get as much funding as the football team.


* Upgrade the bathrooms and keep them clean.


* Give Mr. Heck a raise because he does the most work in the school.


* Teachers favor athletes and cheerleaders and that’s not fair.


* Make a school flower and vegetable garden, especially a rooftop garden.


* Make the school carbon neutral.


* Certain teachers cross the line with their girl students and those teachers should not just be placed on administrative leave, they should be fired.


* [Name of student] is an a**hole.


* [Name of teacher] is a b*tch.


[Note: At this point Dr. Folger stepped in and asked students not to name names but to keep their comments limited to ideas for improving the school or he would turn the mic off.]


* Kids should be allowed to bring water bottles to class and eat snacks throughout the day.


* There should be school hoodies you can buy even if you’re not an athlete.


* Make the school buses run on natural gas or hybrid.


* People who take dance classes should get credit as a sport and you should be able to get gym class exemptions if you do sports.


* Paint murals on the lockers.


* Change the school colors and mascot because they’re stupid.


* Start an Ultimate Frisbee team.


* Vote for favorite teachers and they get a raise.


* The school should lend out iPads.


* More parking for students.


* We should be able to go off campus for lunch—especially upperclassmen.


* Lunch is disgusting. We need better options.


* Homecoming and dances are lame. We need better stuff.


* We should be able to bring our pets to school.


* School shouldn’t take attendance anymore.


* Start a worm-farm compost in the cafeteria for lunch scraps.


* We should get smartboards for the classrooms.


* Let us do internships as a school credit elective.


* There should be a student representative on the school board.


* Stop looking down on kids who aren’t planning on going straight to college.


* Let us choose one class a year that we can pass/fail instead of letter grades.


* Kids who love to cook and menu-plan should have a shot at working in the cafeteria.


* We should fly the flag of the whole earth, along with the U.S. flag, on the school flagpole.


There is no reason to think a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens cannot change the world; indeed, that’s the only thing that ever has.

—M
ARGARET
M
EAD, CULTURAL ANTHROPOLOGIST,
1901–1978

Finally, slowly, the last students trickle out of the
gym. The whole space seems to breathe a sigh of
relief.

When the dismissal bell rang, Dr. Folger had to interrupt
the student at the mic—a popular junior named
Jeremy—to insist that everyone leave so they didn’t
miss their buses. The speak-out was still going strong,
ideas flying, all sorts of students with all kinds of amazing
ideas, along with the occasional turd in the punch
bowl, as Rich would say. At the end, Dr. Folger vowed
that, from now on, students could hold monthly speakouts
during lunch.

The promise was greeted with stomping feet and a
roar of approval.

Now, twenty minutes after dismissal, only the Cheer
Squad remains. Their sneakers squeak as they reattach
streamers and decorations for the homecoming festivities
later this weekend.

I called Martha. She’s taxiing from Walmart, and
she’s bringing provisions. Hopefully not stolen ones.

Rajas and Jacinda and I sit, leaning back against the
full-length windows. “You should have seen your face!”

Jacinda laughs. “You really thought we were holding
evil signs?”

“Yes! I was steeling myself for the apocalypse.”

“I felt bad. But I was confused, you know? I missed
you so much, and then you told me your idea for a
speak-out…but when Ms. Gliss walked in, I needed to,
like, play it cool. You totally freaked her out yesterday, by
the way. You were so brave, confronting her like that!”

“You were brave to go to Dr. Folger and tell him about her.”

“Not as brave as you.” She looks over at Rajas. “Or
you, Mr. Romantic! Ohmigod, Evie, could you just die?
I cannot imagine someone doing that for me!” A sadness
descends on Jacinda; she must be thinking about
Brookner, but she soon smiles again. “That was, like,
so fricking sweet! You rock on with your bad self, Raj!”

Rajas shrugs. “Wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Yes it was!” Jacinda says.

“Yes, it was,” I agree.

“But I should have apologized to you a long time
ago.” He’s frowning.

“Yes, you should have.” I bump him with my shoulder. “You’re not completely off the hook, you know. We
still need to talk.”

“Great. Every guy’s favorite words.”

“Oh, pish-posh!” Jacinda waves a hand. “Just forgive
him already! He was only trying to protect me. As misguided
as that was!” Another shadow crosses her face. Again, she shakes it off. “It’s just a matter of time before
you two are back together, and until you’re, like, fully
engaged in nauseating PDAs.”

I can’t help but smile. I turn to Rajas. “What happened
to ‘I don’t like labels’?”

He scratches his nose. “Guess I managed to see the
light. When it comes to that particular label.”

Jacinda looks past us to someone entering the gym.
She whispers, “Here comes The Man.”

“Yes, yes, here comes The Man.” Dr. Folger gives me
a wink. “Didn’t think I could hear you, Ms. Harrod?”

Jacinda looks horrified. “I’m so, so sorry Dr. Folger! I—”

“Jay, you didn’t know?” Rajas becomes serious. “Dr.
Folger has spyware in his suit pocket. It uploads
directly to—”

“The InterWeb,” I finish.

Her eyes grow wide. “Are you serious!”

Dr. Folger smiles. “Indeed they are not.”

Jacinda juts out her pretty chin and swats Rajas’s
knee in fake anger.

“Well, Evie,” says Dr. Folger. “I’d say the inaugural
speak-out went quite well, all things considered. Would
you agree?”

“Definitely. But we need to make sure all the students’
suggestions are taken seriously. Stiv is game for starting
a new column in the newspaper. But we have to create
other ways to embrace change and implement—”

“Hold up, Eve,” Rajas says. “How about enjoying the
moment?”

“Right, I know. It’s just that we’ve got momentum on
our side now, and—”

“Evie!” giggles Jacinda. “Slow down! Take a
breather!”

“Okay. I’ll try.” I smile. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Rajas says. “That’s why we love you.”

My cheeks blaze, my heart flips at Rajas’s words.
Love.
If it weren’t for Dr. Folger’s Cold Shower Effect, I
might jump Rajas’s bones right now, before I even
decide whether I’ve forgiven him. Time for a change of
subject.

“Do you want to join us?” I ask Dr. Folger. “Martha’s
bringing food.”

His eyebrows rise. “It’s unorthodox…but don’t mind
if I do.” Awkwardly, he sits on the floor, tugging at his
ankle to cross his legs.

The door bangs open. “Revolutionaries! A feast!
Organic corn chips! Salsa! String cheese! Courtesy of
your local Walmart!” Martha plops the food down,
along with a six-pack of juice spritzers. She sits. “Well,
comrades. Sounds like the inaugural speak-out went
quite well, all things considered!”

We exchange glances around the circle, stifling
chuckles.

“And what’s so damned funny?” Martha says.

Dr. Folger laughs. “I believe you are starting to sound
like The Man. Watch out. In a few years time, you might
have an office next to mine.”

Martha throws up her hands. “Never! Perish the
thought.” She grabs the bag of chips and wrestles it
open. We all dig in, eating like cave men around a fire
pit.

I bite into a string cheese and reach for a chip. “So,
Dr. Folger. How about that recommendation for Cornell?
Jacinda wants to go there too, you know.”

“Well isn’t that interesting.” His grin reveals a bit of
salsa pepper stuck to his tooth. “As it happens, I have
drafted a couple of letters. They’re around here somewhere.”
He pulls two envelopes out of his jacket.

“Really? That’s fantastic!” Jacinda beams like she’s
won a Nobel Prize. Or one of those MTV awards.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” I reach for the
letters.

“Not so fast.” He whisks the envelopes away.
“Perhaps it would behoove me to hold onto these. After
all, you’ve not yet been here a semester—”

“And witness the chaos that’s ensued.” Rajas gives a
sly smile.

“Indeed,” Dr. Folger nods. “How about we just file
these safely away as a little…insurance policy, if you
will.”

“Seriously. You should!” Jacinda says. “Evie’s such a
bad influence. And I mean, look at everything that’s coming
up. Homecoming, of course, and winter formal—”

“Hey! You’re all ganging up on me! Again!”

Jacinda’s still reciting her list. “And prom, and spirit
week, and graduation. Ohmigod!” She smacks my leg
in excitement. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Dr. Folger and Martha exchange a look of exaggerated
fear.

“Graduation speaker!” Jacinda chirps. “You’d be, like,
so perfect!”

“Jay, that
is
perfect. Just imagine Eve’s address,”
Rajas says. “‘How to deal when a revolution turns
around to bite you in the butt.’”

I shake my head. “No no no no.”

“Why not, darling?” Martha looks distraught. “Don’t
tell me this experience has turned you off from social
justice activism—”

Jacinda is trembling with excitement. “No, it’s
because she has something else in mind! I know! It’s
going to be, ‘How I came here and made this school a
better place,’ isn’t it? Isn’t it!”

“Nope,” I say. “Wrong again.”

Jacinda pretends to pout. “What, then?”

Brookner’s words are coming back to me, as imperfect
as their messenger was.
For someone who prides
herself on her precocity, you sure can be dense.

But I’m finally beginning to get it.

It’s not just about me anymore. It never really was.

This girl is different. Yes—but that’s not the entire
story.

The real story is much more interesting. I look
around our circle, at the funny mix of friends sitting
here, sharing this moment, crunching organic corn
chips. I think about the kids who spoke out today, at the
surprising and inspiring ideas some of them had.

I smile. “I’d definitely give the speech, if people
elected me to.” And it would be about how we’re going
to change the world. Together. Because this girl, this
boy, these kids—all of us—are different.