Extraordinary October Page 4

  “Stick with me,” I said. “I belong to no cliques and no clubs. I can’t introduce you to anyone because I don’t know their names.”

  “Snob,” he said, but he was smiling.

  “That’s me.”

  “Thank you for allowing me to be your entourage of one.”

  “I may forget who you are tomorrow.”

  He gave a funny, shy, sideways look at me and said quietly, “I hope not.”

  My heart thumped. How sweet was that? I was trying to think of a great reply—I might still be trying to come up with that great reply—when Jacob the jock pushed through the double doors and saw me.

  “Hey Miss October,” he jeered. “How’s that itch?” He snickered and gestured at his crotch. “I got something you can scratch.”

  He was such a jerk I wasn’t even embarrassed. “You should see a doctor about that,” I said. “I think it comes from too much masturbation.”

  “Ouch.” Trevor laughed.

  Jacob was pissed, but after a look at Trevor, he didn’t say anything else. He walked over to his buddies in the jock corner, whispered something to them and they all snickered.

  “Want me to beat him up for you?” Trevor held up his fists like a boxer. He was kidding, of course, and it was funny, but then he said, “What is this itch everybody’s talking about?”

  I was not going to share it with him. Absolutely not. “I’ve gotta get to the library,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”

  He frowned. I sort of hoped he’d offer to come with me, but then he shrugged. “Okay.”

  I fled. Damn Jacob. He had teased me since 3rd Grade and been rude and disgusting since 9th, but this year he had basically ignored me—thank God—until the itch. Please, I thought, don’t let the itch be my defining moment. I could see the yearbook and underneath my photo: “Girl Most Likely To Scratch.”

  I turned the corner to the library and literally collided with Walker Smith. He dropped the book he was holding and we both bent to pick it up and bumped our heads. Just like a comedy routine, only it was more of a tragedy. Every time I saw him I did or said something stupid.

  “You okay?”

  “Going to the library.”

  “Your forehead.”

  “It’s fine.”

  I didn’t want to look up into those blue eyes. I tried to think about the new guy, about Trevor, but once again Walker radiated safety and warmth, and I felt myself relaxing, slowing down, turning into pudding beside him.

  “Sorry about yesterday,” I said.

  “No, no. I’m sorry. I came to check on you, make sure you’re all right. Crows carry terrible diseases.”

  “Like what?”

  Before he could answer he looked over my shoulder and gave a little hiss. I turned around. Trevor came toward us. His muscles bulged in his tight T-shirt and he walked with a fluid motion like a dancer or a gymnast. I smiled at him. He smiled back.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Thought you were going to the library.” He stuck out his hand for Walker to shake. “Trevor Rockman,” he said. “You October’s uncle or something?”

  I almost choked.

  Walker’s eyes narrowed and his chin went up. “October is helping me with a project.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Guess she’s not,” Trevor said and offered me his arm. “We’re going to the library.”

  “Wait,” Walker said.

  Trevor and I walked away. When we got into the library I laughed out loud. “Thank you.”

  Trevor grinned. “That guy is a little strange, huh?”

  “You’re telling me.”

  We laughed and the librarian shushed us—naturally—so Trevor led me down to the far wall, way back in the stacks. I love the smell of old books and for some reason that and the dust and even the gray piece of chewing gum stuck on the wall were like an aphrodisiac. I had goose bumps. Trevor looked up at the fluorescent light. It was buzzing, and then it flickered and went out, leaving us in the shadows.

  “Perfect,” said Trevor.

  I was trembling. Was he going to kiss me? Was this going to be my first official kiss? I’d just met him. I didn’t want him to think I was a slut, but then I decided I would worry about that later.

  He whispered. “What do you say we skip the rest of the day and find a place to go swimming?”

  “It’s cold out.”

  “I’ll keep you warm.”

  I had never skipped school. I’d never had a reason before. He leaned toward me. I liked that he wasn’t too tall. He smelled good, like dark, clean dirt. I know that sounds not so appealing, but on him it was delicious. I nodded yes. I was ready to go wherever with him. I looked into his big, dark eyes, started to close mine as our heads tilted…

  “Hey, October.”

  I jumped. It was Green, standing there with about twelve books stacked up in his pudgy little arms.

  “Oh are you kidding me?” I said.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked. Then he looked at Trevor. “You’re the new kid. Hi. I’m Chris Lee.”

  Not very nicely I said, “I call him Green because yesterday he was green and puking his guts out.”

  “I feel much better.” He spoke seriously. “October, your forehead looks bad.”

  I couldn’t believe this pipsqueak had ruined my moment. And then the bell rang.

  “You going to Chemistry?” Green asked me. “I’m walking that way.”

  How did he know where I was going? So much for skipping the rest of the afternoon. As we all walked toward the library doors, Trevor took my hand. I got a shock, like when you touch metal.

  “Oh!”

  “Sorry,” he said. “The carpet I guess.”

  I rubbed the spot on my hand. “It’s nothing.” It hurt a lot.

  Chris went ahead of us and Trevor stopped me in the doorway. “Can I see you? Tonight?”

  It was Thursday. I didn’t know what I’d tell my parents. Plus wasn’t I supposed to play hard to get? “Yes,” I said. So much for hard to get—he’d obviously gotten me.

  “Meet me at the Stop N Shop by your house at seven.”

  “How do you know where I live?”

  He shrugged and grinned. He was so damn attractive.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll buy you an ice cream cone.”

  He jogged off toward his next class and I turned toward mine. Green was standing in front of me.

  “What’re you looking at?” I asked.

  “Your forehead’s bleeding,” he said. “And that thing on your neck is growing.”

  I groaned. So attractive. Maybe Trevor hadn’t noticed. Yeah, right.

  I ducked into the closest restroom.

  5.

  School bathrooms are universes unto themselves. It doesn’t matter what school you’re in, public or private, anywhere in the country, they all have the same smells, sounds, and accoutrements. There is the scent of pee mixed with industrial-strength disinfectant. The toilet paper, if there is any, pulls down in a little square so thin you could read a textbook through it. It takes thirty to make a reasonable wipe. A sadist must have invented the paper towels because they’re like sandpaper, impossible to use for fixing make up, dabbing tears, or blowing your nose. Good news is you exfoliate every time you dry your hands. The tile walls make everything loud and there’s always hair in the sink and at least two toilets haven’t been flushed and in the girls’ room the sanitary products wastebaskets are always overflowing.

  The cut on my head was bubbling up with blood that was beginning to drip into my eyebrows. I found a stall with toilet paper, took about fifty squares and tried to staunch the flow. It wasn’t helping. The mark on my neck looked bumpier and bigger and redder than it had that morning. I was falling apart. The bathroom door opened.

  “Hey. Need some help?”

  Luisa. Of course.

  “That crow
really did a number,” she said. “I have some tissues, real tissues, in my bag.”

  “I can do it.” The blood was saturating the toilet paper. “Yuk.” I tossed the wad into the trashcan and grabbed a paper towel. I winced as I tried to wipe up the blood with the stiff, rough paper. “I don’t know why it started bleeding now.”

  “I saw you talking to that new guy.” Luisa wet one of her tissues under the tap. “He looks kind of interesting.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah. Here, let me.” She pressed the tissue to my cut. The cool water was a relief. “Lean your head back,” she said.

  It made it difficult to talk, but it didn’t stop me. “I feel bad for him, you know? Having to transfer right before the end of school. I’ve been here forever and it’s hard enough for me. I don’t have any real friends—I mean.” I stopped. “Well, you know what I mean.”

  I hoped I hadn’t offended her. Here she was with her hand on my head, missing class, but she wasn’t really a friend. Even if time after time she turned up just when I needed her. That was luck, not friendship.

  “I think Trevor’s okay looking,” I went on as I stared at the ceiling. “In a rugged, you know, casual kind of way.”

  “Not as handsome as Walker,” she said.

  I straightened and looked her in the eye. “Walker is weird.”

  “I think he likes you.”

  “You do?”

  “I love this color on you.” She changed the subject. “You look great in purple.”

  I sneaked a peak into the mirror. My skin—the part that wasn’t bloody—looked kind of golden and my hair was shiny with red highlights I never noticed before.

  “Must be the light.” I waited a minute before continuing. “So, Luisa?”

  “Yes?”

  “Where do you go when you don’t come to school?” I asked. I was thinking about Trevor. “Do you go to the mall?”

  “Ugh, no.” Luisa laughed. “I go down to the L.A. River. “

  “What do you do down there?”

  “Hang out, watch the herons and the turtles. Enjoy the nature. This city has too much cement.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous? Homeless people and gangs?”

  “Never had a problem.” She turned me to face the mirror. “Look at yourself. You’re hot. And you’re smart. That’s why Walker likes you. You should give him another chance. Trust him.”

  “Once was enough.” I took the wad of bloody tissues from her. “And this is what I got for it.” I threw it away. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  I cocked my head at her.

  “You know, I’m your basic caregiver type,” she said.

  “Well, thank you Nurse Flores.” I had stopped bleeding. In fact the cut looked much better. The scab was even gone. “You’re good at what you do.” The spot on my neck had faded as well. It was almost gone. “My neck—”

  “If you ever want to talk,” she interrupted.

  “About Walker?”

  “Or Trevor.”

  We both started laughing at that, not for any real reason, but just because. Laughing and laughing like girlfriends. Like good friends. The door to the bathroom swung open hard and Ms.Tannenbaum, the P.E. teacher, stomped in. She was not your typical P.E. teacher, she was petite and blonde and wore a ton of jewelry, but she was scary nonetheless, like a Chihuahua on steroids.

  “What are you girls doing in here? You should be in class!”

  “I was bleeding,” I said. “Luisa was helping me.” I pointed to my forehead, but the pale, pink mark did not look convincing.

  “Look,” Luisa said, and pointed to the trashcan and the bloody tissue.

  Tough little Tannenbaum raised her eyebrows. “Out,” she said.

  “It’s the truth,” I tried.

  “Uh huh.” She didn’t believe us. “Detention. Both of you. Today.”

  Luisa shook her head. “I have to work, Mrs. Tannenbaum. My job. Really. Can I stay after tomorrow?”

  Tannenbaum had a soft spot for the pretty girls. Luisa’s eyes were like melted chocolate.

  “Okay, Luisa,” Tannenbaum grumbled. “Okay. Tomorrow.”

  Luisa skipped out the door. “Thank you!”

  Tannenbaum turned to me. “You. Today. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

  I nodded.

  “Now get to class!”

  I scurried past her, down the hall and into Chemistry. Detention! What would Trevor think? But then I didn’t see Trevor anywhere the rest of the day, not even a glimpse of his shaggy black hair. I didn’t itch and I didn’t see Walker. It was just a boring regular day—with my first ever detention at the end.

  After school I went into the library and sat down at the table with the other three losers. And they were losers. One of them must’ve been at that school for at least eight years. No lie, he had a few gray hairs. The other two were junior delinquents, well on their way to being full-fledged criminals. I took out my homework and Mrs. Tannenbaum, the detention Nazi, banged the desk.

  “No homework! Detention is time to sit and reflect.” She looked at the older guy. “And stay awake!”

  It was agony. She kept us exactly two hours while she sat at the desk in front reading. She even ate a candy bar. I tapped my feet—couldn’t stop--and stared out the window. Looked like rain. I expected to be drenched on the way home, but I didn’t care; I kept thinking about my date that night with Trevor. When she finally dismissed us, I jumped up and grabbed my backpack. The old guy asked if I wanted a ride.

  “No thanks,” I said. If he was too stupid to graduate after a zillion years, I didn’t want him driving me anywhere.

  But then I had to wait for the city bus for more than half an hour with the clouds getting blacker and bigger and the wind swirling around. I could have called my dad to pick me up, but frankly, I just didn’t want to hear about how detention could go on my permanent record and colleges take those things into consideration and blah blah blah. College. It was all anybody in my house had talked about since last summer. Enough already. All my applications were in and I was just waiting to hear. Even so, every day my mom or dad had some college tidbit to pester me about. Too late, I kept saying. It’s over. What will be will be.

  When the bus finally came, it was almost six o’clock. Once I got home, I’d have to rush inside and immediately give the folks a story about why I wanted to go right back out to the Stop N Shop. I could always say I needed something for school, but what? What did Stop N Shop have for school? Beef jerky?

  “Tampons!” I actually said it out loud.

  The old man across the aisle frowned at me. I turned to the window. It was almost dark and the buildings, the cars, the sidewalks, everything was the color of lead. Even the few pedestrians huddled in their jackets were gray like the background of an old black and white movie. My dad thought this was the loneliest time of day, waiting for my mom to get home and the evening to begin. Usually I thought it was the most beautiful, in between light and dark, night and day, on the edge. Today it seemed as if there was no edge, the day would melt into the night and no one would notice the difference. My feet tapped the floor of the bus. I couldn’t stop them. They seemed to have a mind of their own. I thought of the library and the way Trevor had almost kissed me. I had really, really wanted to kiss him. My pg-13 rated musings must’ve shown on my face because the old man across the aisle cleared his throat loudly and glared at me. I turned all the way to the window.

  And then, in the empty lot by the grocery store, I saw a bright twinkle. I blinked and looked again. Another and another, more twinkles, hundreds of them. Really? What were they? Fireflies. The field was filled with fireflies flashing brightly in the gloom. Fireflies don’t live in Los Angeles. I had only seen them on television. At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, or that it was just broken beer bottles glittering under the streetlamps, but no, they were really fireflies. Incredible, magical, wonderful creatures. Everything a
bout me began to twitch, to move. I wanted to dance. I had to get up. I had to see them up close.

  I pulled the cord and got off the bus. Despite my full backpack, I skipped and leapt as I hurried back to the fireflies. I twirled among them. One landed on my hand and blinked before it flew off. I imagined I heard them singing to me, welcoming me and asking me to stay and dance with them. I imagined they had bright, high voices, soft but crystal clear. “You’re beautiful,” I said out loud. “I love you.” I stayed until it began to rain, not a few drops, but a real rainstorm—also so unusual in LA—until I was wet and the fireflies were gone. Then I ran all the way home. I could have sworn my feet left the pavement for longer than humanly possible.

  I bounded up the front steps and into my house. “Mom!” I shouted like a ten-year-old, “I’m home! Guess what? Guess what?”

  My tiny, skinny Mom came out of the kitchen with a big fat smile on her face and a big fat envelope in her hands.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s from Colorado,” she said. “It feels pretty heavy.”

  Dad came out of the birdhouse room. “Go on,” he said. “We’ve been waiting.”

  I ripped it open and read aloud, “Dear October: We are pleased to inform you—” I threw my arms around my mom. “I’m in!”

  It was fantastic. Colorado was one of my first choices, a great school for animal sciences and far, but not too far, from home. My mother actually had tears in her eyes.

  “I fixed your favorite dinner,” she said. “I knew we’d be celebrating.”

  I was happy, happy, happy, but then I remembered Trevor. I couldn’t stand him up. I’d have to take the car, run to the Stop N Shop, and explain to him why I couldn’t stay. He’d understand. I wondered if he’d heard from any colleges yet. I turned to Dad to give him a hug too.

  He seemed different somehow. I went in for the congratulatory embrace, and he just patted me on the back mechanically. There was something subdued about him. He was usually the most boisterous of all of us, the “Jolly Fat Man” as he called himself. But he looked down at the floor and his shoulders sagged.

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” I said. “I’ll be home for Christmas and summers.”