13 to Life (24 page)

“I’d call it reckless. Selfish.” I hugged my backpack.

“Are you going to push your new motto now: We don’t just live our lives for ourselves, or whatever?”

“Well, we don’t,” I protested. “If you had been killed—” I gulped at the thought. “How would Max have felt?”

“Like he’d get a second chance at having my room.”

“Okay, maybe not Max. Catherine. She would have been devastated,” I said with authority.

He shrugged.

“You affect people, Pietr. Don’t you realize?”

“I don’t affect some as strongly as I
want
to,” he muttered, beginning to turn away.

I wasn’t letting him shut me down so easily. “You didn’t show up to help today.”

“
Eezvehneetyeh
. Alexi had to race off somewhere with the car. I didn’t really have much choice.”

“Well, you may not have a job for long,” I snapped.

“If you want me to say
eezvehneetyeh
again . . .” He looked at me, his eyes narrow.

“Saying sorry won’t do it.”

He leaned toward me, his breath hot on my face. It was dizzying being so close and not being kissed. “I’ve done everything you want me to. I act like we’re just friends, I date Sarah, I try not to take it badly when you totally blow off a huge omen in the shape of an amber pendant—”

“An
omen
? Who even talks that way?” I shook my head in frustration and peered past him and out the window.
How much longer until we got to the school?

“Look, it’s cool that I was able to open those wooden things for you,” I began. “I seriously don’t get why you couldn’t, though. And it’s neat that inside the wolfy one was a heart-shaped pendant with a bunny carved into it.” I was rambling, but I was on a roll. Maybe I shouldn’t help myself to Dad’s coffee.

“But all it is,” I continued, “is simple coincidence. I mean, sure, it’s weird, but hearts and rabbits are both popular symbols. And, frankly—unless there’s some crazy secret you aren’t telling me—the fact the heart came out of a wolf has nothing to do with you. I mean—really. It’s not like you’re a wolf or anything; right, Pietr?”

I shook my head for him. “No. Of course not. So what does that leave?” My fingers tapped my chin. Yes, I was being mean, but he had nearly
killed
himself in front of me yesterday, and I certainly wasn’t in the mood for any nonsense about omens today. The bus rolled to a stop in front of the school. “Oh,” I said in epiphany, “if you’re not a
wolf,
are you a
werewolf,
Pietr?”

He blinked at me. “Yes.”

“Ugh!” I stood, slinging the backpack over my shoulder. “You are absolutely infuriating!
Impossible!
” I stomped my way out of the bus, pounding my feet down the gritty stairs and jumping off the final step and onto the sidewalk.

Pietr was right behind me.

Sarah, Sophia, and Amy were standing there, waiting on us.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Amy piped up, noticing my scowl.

“Is something wrong?” Sarah asked.

I waved a hand over my shoulder toward Pietr. “Pietr’s being difficult.”

“Oh,” Sophia said, watching us both.

Sarah hugged him. “You look like you’re doing well,” she said. “You had us all so worried! You should give me your phone number so I can check up on you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” he assured. “I’m tougher than I look.”

I pondered the fact that I had Pietr’s phone number and his girlfriend didn’t. Sarah slipped her hand into his.

A whistle sounded two sharp tweets, and Coach Mac shouted, “No public displays of affection.”

Rebuffed, Sarah pulled her hand back, head down. I looked down the sidewalk toward Coach Mac. Not five feet beyond him Jenny and Derek were locked in a fierce embrace, kissing as if he were a soldier headed to war. Already incensed, I shouted, “Hey Coach, to your right!”

His head swung around and he spotted the two lovebirds. He said something to them, quietly, so as to not draw attention. They pulled apart and Jenny’s mouth moved, questioning. Coach responded with a jab of his chin in our direction. Jenny’s face twisted with anger; Derek just smiled.

“Nice job,” Amy reprimanded. “One more reason for Jenny to hate you. You know, considering your IQ, you’re really socially retarded sometimes.”

“Thanks,” I said, glaring. “It’s just not fair. Derek can publicly ram his tongue down Jenny’s throat, and Sarah and Pietr can’t even hold hands?”

I ditched the bunch of them then, needing the solitude of library research to calm back down. I ransacked Google, thinking about the weird stuff I’d collected so far. Russian Mafia, wolves . . .
cool
! I’d missed something. Probably that day Derek had come in to renew “World of Sports.” But who could blame me considering how tight his jeans had been.

I clicked on the link and mouthed the words
Phantom wolves of Farthington? Two distinct sets of footprints found.
Bingo! That at least was something decent about today. I hit print, grabbed the paper, and headed to homeroom.

Amy didn’t waste another word on me until second period. We were broken into groups and, pulling our desks together, we were told the assignment: “Choose a quote that summarizes your life.”

Sarah blinked and put away
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
.

“I don’t know,” Amy confessed, raising her hand. “Ms. Wyatt, do you mean our life up until now, or what we think our future will be like?”

Ms. Wyatt merely smiled and said, “That’s why this is introduction to psychology—here, we ask questions.” Then she danced away, her poet’s shirt and long, flowered skirt flowing around her. “To quote Mary Oliver,” she called from the opposite side of the room, “tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

“Well, frankly, I haven’t really thought much about it.” Amy held out the list of quotes, daring any of us to take it.

Sarah did, of course. “I’ve recently had quite a bit of time to be
introspective,
” Sarah pointed out. She ran a finger down the list, carefully examining each phrase.

I raised my hand. “Ms. Wyatt, can we have another list to share?” I asked.

“The school district recently adopted a policy encouraging conservation and recycling.” Ms. Wyatt danced away again.

“I think that means
no.
” Amy pouted.

“Oh!” Sarah’s eyes were wide. “I found mine!” Carefully she wrote something in her notebook.

“What is it?” I asked. I tried to sound interested. And frankly, I was curious. . . . Considering how crazy she’d been acting, maybe I could decipher something from her choice of quote.

“By A. Powell Davies: ‘Life is just a chance to grow a soul.’ ” Sarah sighed. “I like it. I think that’s true. It’s like that idea that life’s not a destination but really a journey toward enlightenment.”

Across from me, Amy’s expression matched Pietr’s. Cool and distant. They were merely observers of the moment.

“That’s a great one,” I agreed, silently hoping Sarah was on
the path to growing a soul—to understanding and compassion. Instead of heading down the path toward destroying her peers.

She passed the paper to me. I leaned across my desk, holding the paper so Amy and Pietr could catch a glimpse, too.

Pietr glanced at the list and then sat back in his seat. “Mine’s on there.”

“What?” I asked. “You already have a quote for your life?”

He shrugged.

Sarah’s hand took his. “What is it, Pietr?”

“ ‘My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—It gives a lovely light!’ ” He said it all in a way I knew he’d said the lines many times, out loud and in his heart. “Edna St. Vincent Millay,” he added.

“It’s beautiful, Pietr,” Sarah said with such gentleness it made me twitch.

“It’s tragic,” I snapped, staring straight at him. “You’re talking about death. The quote’s supposed to be about
life.
”

“It’s on the list,” Amy pointed out.

“I don’t care. It doesn’t make sense,” I hissed. Yesterday’s events rushed over me in sudden and brilliant shades of red. “Do you
want
to die, Pietr?”

He blinked at me and then turned to look at the classroom’s clock. He turned back, fixing his dazzling eyes on mine. “I want to live.
Every moment,
” he responded sharply.

“He wants to live life fiercely, Jessie. Don’t you get it? Live like you’re dying.” Amy peered at me out of the corners of her eyes. She sighed. “Maybe you should choose another quote, Pietr,” she suggested.

I turned on her. “He doesn’t have to choose another quote, Amy, he needs to think about what he’s saying. He
never
thinks about what he’s saying.”

Pietr’s fingers began to drum on the desk.

From across the room I felt Derek’s eyes on me. I’d nearly forgotten he was in the class, I’d been so fixated on Pietr.

Amy raised her hands in mock defense. “Fine, fine.” She looked at Pietr then, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Shame on you, Pietr—being an adolescent male who may not have
totally
thought out the potential impact your words would have on a”—she looked at me and rolled her eyes—“
moody
teenage girl. Pietr, you are truly an exception to the rule.”

Sarah was laughing.

“Ladies, ladies,” Ms. Wyatt scolded in her teasing way, “Let’s get our focus back. How many here have a quote?”

Sarah’s hand was a rocket launching. Pietr’s was slower—sullen, even—but no less assured.

“Good, good,” Ms. Wyatt beamed at them before rounding on us. “And, girls, what are you considering?”

“ ‘Life is so constructed that an event does not, cannot, will not, match the expectation’,” Amy griped.

“Ohhh. A lovely pessimistic view from Charlotte Brontë,” Ms. Wyatt said with obvious approval. “And you?” She faced me.

I looked at the paper again, looked at Amy, and then at Sarah. Sarah was smiling at me with such a look of utter support, the flash and fire of yesterday replaced with simple good will. It was like we hadn’t argued at all. And I believed if I could save her from herself, I would. No matter how long it took. “There.” I pointed. “Number five.”

Ms. Wyatt squinted. “Hmm. Albert Einstein.” She read it slowly. “ ‘Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile.’ ”

Pietr and Amy just looked at me levelly. Sarah beamed.

We darted out of intro to psychology, passing Derek in the hall. I swore I heard him say to Pietr, “Live like you’re dying?
Life’s too short to have it all, isn’t it?” Pietr just pushed past as Derek grinned at me. In lit we had a rousing discussion of
Romeo and Juliet
! The topic of doomed love, lies, and naïve teenage relationships rubbed my nerves raw.

I tuned out, wishing I couldn’t hear any of it. Didn’t we all know by now that Romeo and Juliet had been doomed from the get-go by the nastiness between their family and peers? That their attempts to avoid Fate and find some cheery happily-ever-after ended in a tragic and bloody way because of poor communication? I didn’t need to dwell on it. Not right now.

Pausing at my locker, I found a note taped to it. I immediately called home. “Yeah, one of my reporters dropped the ball. Yep. The curse of being an editor—no glory and all the headaches. No, Dad, I’ll call when I need you to get me. Yeah. Okay, bye. Yep. I love you, too, Dad.”

The rest of my day was spent splitting my attention between the article Sophia and I would need to write and paying attention (mostly) in class. There was no time to spend on Pietr, although I sneaked a few glances at him as he sneaked glances at the clock. We didn’t even say good-bye to each other; I didn’t say much to any of my friends all day.

Sophia was already waiting by the faculty lounge when I got there. She straightened her collar so even less of her was visible. It was strange how she hid in her clothes. She had really great skin.

“Hey, Soph. Anybody in there?”

“Mr. Miles came out a minute ago. I think it’s empty now.”

“Cool, let’s get this done,” I said, pulling the door open and revealing what most students never saw. I skirted the vending machines and mini-fridge, sitting at the round table.

Sophia slipped some coins into a vending machine and set us up with chips and soda. “Brain food.”

“I can definitely use some. Okay. Let’s throw together something that reinforces the idea what’s on the inside matters more than the outside.”

Sophia, one of the prettiest girls in my circle of friends, said, “So lame.”

“You say that because you’re beautiful inside and out.” I grinned.

She stuck out her tongue at me.

“It’s not such a bad thing,” I conceded. “Yeah, it’s a lame teacher topic, but occasionally we do have to do what they say. It
is
a school newspaper.”

She rolled her eyes. “So, let’s brainst—”

The door swung open and Derek and Jack, deep in conversation about football plays, stepped in for sodas.

Sophia looked at me, eyes wide. Her hand moved to her neck.

“Hey,” Derek said, glancing at Sophia before settling his gaze on me.
Me.
My heart sped up.

“Derek,” Sophia forced the word out between her clamped teeth. “Jack.”

“Yo.”

Jack inserted his coins and—“Daaamn”—smacked the machine a couple of times before it released his soda.

“Jessica . . . I wanted to ask—” Derek began, but Jack punched him in the shoulder.

“Get your drink, dude. My mom’ll be out front in a minute.”

Derek’s lips twisted and he shot Sophia another look.

“You’d better get your drink, Derek, so you don’t miss your ride,” she suggested. Something threatening crept around the edges of her tone.

“Yeah.” He turned around, bought his drink, and paused at the door. “Later,” he said. To me.

“Yeah,” I agreed as he left.

I sank into my chair. “Sophia. What the heck was all that about? I mean, I know you two went out . . .”

But it was a taboo subject. Sophia glared at me to reinforce the fact.

“Fine. I’ll drop it.”

“Good.” She seemed a shade paler. Her shoulders dropped and her eyes softened before she jotted some phrases down on the brainstorming paper, her pen sliding across its surface effortlessly. Her phone chattered across the table a moment before she snagged it. “I have to go. Here are a couple things to help.” She shoved the paper at me and looked toward the door. “Think they’re gone?”