A Match Made in High School (4 page)

I look away and appear coy and delicious? Should I wave?

Try to hold his stare? Try to send him psychic messages?

I caved. I dropped down and pretended to tie my checkered Chuck Taylor sneakers. I didn’t know what to do. What a wimp. And as a reward for my cowardice, when I stood up, my gaze fell on someone much less savory. Toady Todd. (I was trying out new nicknames for him. So far I’d rejected Todd the Clod, Hard-head Harding, and “TH” pronounced in the form of a raspberry. He wasn’t smart enough to get that one.) Todd turned to his buddy and whispered something. At least, it looked like he was whispering. All bent over and shadylike. And then I watched with dread as he looked and pointed at me, and then started laughing. His buddy laughed too, and I felt all my blood drain into my feet. Todd was up to something.

He saw me watching him, shook his head, and smiled his sinister grin. I tried not to look scared, but what could I do? I couldn’t say anything to him; he was way across the auditorium. I did the only thing I could think of. Gave him the finger.

Well, that just pleased Todd to no end. I’d egged him on. I’d accomplished the social equivalent of poking a bear with a sharp stick.

“Is everyone ready?” Principal Miller said, adjusting her glasses. “Everyone? Okay, let’s begin. When I call your name, please come up onstage, meet your partner behind the arch, hold hands, and pass through the arch and down the risers in front of the stage. Then you may continue up the center 36 Kristin Walker

aisle and exit to class. Does everyone understand? Yes? Fine.”

She waved to someone in the back of the auditorium. “Please bring in the underclassmen. Ah . . . and women.”

Suddenly, the double doors flew open and a wave of students poured into the auditorium. Judging from the expressions on the seniors’ faces, it was safe to assume that none of us had dreamed we’d have an audience for this. But there they were. Freshmen, sophomores, juniors—witnesses to the execution. Sophia Sheridan nudged me. “What are
they
here for?”

“I dunno,” I said. “Maybe Principal Miller wants to scare them into switching schools so next year the faculty can retire to Buenos Aires.”

She snorted. “I doubt it. I mean, who’d want to retire in Mexico?”

I blame the educational system; I do. It wasn’t poor Sophia’s fault that she’d never been taught the geography of North and South America. Or maybe she had, but the information had somehow gotten lost between the teacher’s lips and her hair spray–fumed brain. Either way, I decided to let it go. She clearly had missed the point, anyhow. Principal Miller flapped her hands above the podium.

“Take your seats, please. Take your seats.” When the room settled, she cleared her throat, tossed her head back, and gave a crooked smile. “We are gathered here today to join—”

She stopped. Blinked a few times. Forced the smile wider.

“To join these young men and these young women in—”

She swallowed. Breathed. “Matrimony.” Inhaled. Exhaled.

“A marriage is not something to be entered into lightly. It is a commitment made between two people. A commitment that is—” She tossed her head back and snorted. “Well, it’s
supposed
to endure.” Her voice wavered. She stopped again and dabbed at her eyes. Then she grabbed the podium.

“You should stick with it through adversity. Not just run off at the first temptation like a kid who’s just discovered candy. Sure, candy is sweet. But candy offers no sustenance. Meanwhile, the solid, nourishing potato that you married lies rotting in the cupboard. Make the choice before you make the commitment, ladies and gentlemen! Don’t choose a potato if what you really want is candy. Do you understand?”

It was pretty clear that none of us did. Even though she studied our stony faces for an answer. A tear dribbled down her cheek. She swiped it away.

“So. Marriage. Yes. Marriage is a commitment between two people . . . a commitment that . . . that . . . Oh, you know the rules. Let’s get on with it. When I call your name, come up on the stage, join hands with your partner, and I solemnly declare you united for the purpose of marriage education for the year. The end, goodbye. Mr. Evans? Music, please. Carla Adams and Peter Hauser.”

Pachelbel’s Canon in D started blaring over the sound system as Carla and Peter climbed the stage steps. They joined hands, walked under the arch, and stepped down the risers at the front of the stage. As they strolled up the aisle, the underclassmen started clapping and hooting. 38 Kristin Walker

Now I understood why they were there. It was a gauntlet of humiliation.

Two by two we climbed the gallows. Two by two we descended into hell. Okay, maybe I’m overdramatizing it a bit, but I can tell you this much: I used to like Canon in D. It used to sound like hope and beauty and purity and joy all rolled into one. But suddenly, and from that moment on, Canon in D sounded like a death march. A dirge. A slow, inevitable spiral toward the grave. Without a doubt, I would never, ever like Pachelbel again.

I watched Marcie and Johnny cross the stage toward each other. Marcie was wearing these wedge heels, so she walked kind of slowly. Johnny waited for her with his hand outstretched. She took it and they walked forward through the arch. When they stepped down onto the aluminum risers, the metal groaned under Johnny’s weight a bit louder than usual. Some of the underclassmen laughed, but Johnny kept on going without missing a beat. I thought I saw Marcie give his hand a little squeeze, which was likely, because she’s that type of person.

I inched forward in the line, trying to keep a sideways eye on Todd. I didn’t know what he had planned, but it couldn’t be good. When Gabe and Amanda got onstage, I looked back and forth between Gabe and Todd to see if Todd had any reaction to his girlfriend getting cozy with a totally smokin’ hot guy. But Todd didn’t seem to care. I was more jealous than he seemed to be. Even when Gabe offered not only his hand, but his muscled arm, which Amanda took, giggling. She was a pro at being coy; I’d give her that. She

made flirting a religion, and right now she was worshipping at the altar of Gabe. But Todd didn’t bat a lash. I, on the other hand, was not so cool. In fact, I had started to sweat like a beauty queen at the last minute of a pregnancy test. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine ice cubes in my armpits, and cool water dripping down my neck and arms. I had almost gotten my heart rate slowed from frantic to merely anxious when Principal Miller called out,

“Fiona Sheehan and Todd Harding.”

Oh God. Up I went.

I climbed the steps and turned to face Todd. We walked toward one another, glaring into each other’s eyes. I didn’t want to trip, but I didn’t want to break his stare, either. When we got within arm’s reach, I held out my hand, trying to be dignified. But Todd broke my gaze and walked right past me to the curtain at the side of the stage. He reached into the velvet drape and pulled out . . . a doll. A blow-up doll. A blow-up sex doll with a black wig and brown glasses like mine, and a silver plastic tiara taped to its head with duct tape. The doll did have pants on—cargos, like I wear. Only, the crotch of the cargos was soaking wet. Dripping down the inside of the legs. As for the top—there was none. The boobs had been smashed in and taped over with duct tape so that the doll was flat-chested. But there were a pair of very attractive black Magic Marker nipples drawn on the duct tape. In the interest of maintaining anatomical correctness, I’m sure. The auditorium exploded in hysterics. Todd grabbed the doll, straddled it, and galloped around the stage like it 40 Kristin Walker

was a horse—whip action, and all. Then he ran through the arch to the front of the stage (dodging Principal Miller, who seemed shocked into immobility anyway). He held the doll as high as he could and yelled, “PRESENTING PRINCESS

PISSPANTS!” A handful of underclassmen laughed. Then more joined in. Then Todd’s bonehead buddy started chanting, “PRINCESS PISSPANTS, PRINCESS PISSPANTS,” and soon everyone was either cracking up or chanting along. Principal Miller said, “All right! Quiet down,” but no one really did. Todd marched down the risers with the doll on his arm and paraded it up the aisle as everyone cheered. I stood alone on the stage. Well, me and the principal, who shuffled me to the edge and shooed me off. Evidently, she had become quite skilled at pretending not to notice things.

I toddled down the risers and stood frozen at the bottom. Everyone was chanting louder than ever. And laughing. And pointing. At me. I had no idea what to do or where to go. Suddenly, I saw Marcie striding toward me. She took my arm and walked me up the aisle. Johnny met us halfway and someone shouted, “Ooh, a threesome!” But I was beyond caring. All I wanted was to get out of there. Well, that—and to figure out a way to pay Todd back.

We got through the doors to the vestibule outside the auditorium, and Johnny asked, “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay,” I said. “That goddamn bastard.” I looked around the vestibule for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Sonofabitch coward.

“Todd Harding is a total prick,” Marcie said. “I can
not
believe he did that.”

“I can,” Johnny and I both said at the same time. A little laugh popped out of me. “Jinx,” I said. “You owe me a beer.” Johnny blushed and ran his fingers through his thick, shaggy hair.

I stared at the bulletin board with the marriage ed lists on it. I pulled out one of the thumbtacks and stuck it right through Todd’s name. “Listen Mar,” I said, “I’m getting him back, and I’m gonna need your help. I’m thinking tonight, at the dance. Are you in?”

Marcie clucked her tongue at me. “Come on, Fee. Be the bigger person.”

“Bigger person? What you mean is back down. No way. I’m not hiding from him. Then he wins.”

“Yeah, but it’s not a battle. You’re supposed to be married.”

“Screw that.”

She crossed her ivory arms. Even after being outdoors all summer, she’d managed to avoid any sun damage. “Okay, but like it or not, that’s the way it is if you want to graduate and get the hell out of high school.”

“Marcie, are you going to help me or not?”

She sighed and dropped her arms. Her bracelets clinked together. “Yes, I’ll help you. You know I will.”

“Thank you.”

“Uh . . . you know, I could . . . help too,” Johnny said. “I mean . . . if you need it.”

42 Kristin Walker

“For real?” I asked.

Johnny twitched his head. “Sure. I can’t dance anyway. What else is there to do?”

I reached up and patted him once on his beefy shoulder.

“Awesome, Johnny. Thanks.”

I checked the clock above the auditorium doors: eightforty-five. Exactly one hour for me to figure out what I was going to say to Todd at our counseling session. I couldn’t wait for him to get reamed out by Maggie Klein. I’d never seen her go ballistic before, so it was going to be a treat. And afterward, I’d have the rest of the day to plan my revenge.

“pLEASE CoME IN, FIoNA. Todd IS ALREAdy hERE.”

Maggie Klein had been the guidance counselor at East Columbus ever since I was a freshman. She couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years older than me, but she carried herself like a middle-aged ex-hippie. She insisted that everyone in school call her Maggie, and everything she said sounded like a meditation mantra. She always wore scarves and smelled like vanilla and roasted almonds. She’d never been married, so I wasn’t sure what she thought she could teach us about marriage. But maybe she’d picked up some tips from the string of men she’d been seen with around town over the past few years.

“Take a seat, Fiona,” Maggie Klein said. I did. But not before I sent a barrage of eye daggers through the back of Todd’s skull. “Okay. Welcome, Fiona. Welcome, Todd. I think it’s obvious that we need to begin this session by addressing what happened earlier at the mock wedding ceremony. Todd, would you like to start?”

“Ha! Why does
he
get to start?” I blurted. Maggie Klein turned her head to me the exact way an owl does when it’s scoping out its prey. “Because Todd was 44 Kristin Walker

here first, Fiona.” Her head swiveled back to Todd. “Now, tell me, Todd. Why did you think it was acceptable to bring that doll to the wedding?”

Why did he what? Acceptable? Um, hello? Where was the part where she yells at him and he gets in trouble?

“Well, Maggie,” he cooed, “I noticed that some of my classmates were a bit . . . well, uptight about the marriage education course. So I took it upon myself to add some levity to what was surely a stressful moment for many of my fellow seniors.”

Hold the phone. What was Todd up to? I sat up higher in my cushioned chair and watched him.

“Todd, I understand your desire to help your fellow students,” Maggie Klein said, reaching over to adjust a vase of daisies on her pristine desk. “And although your motives may be honorable, you must understand that your actions were disturbing. Can you see that?”

I snorted. Loud.

“Fiona? You will get your turn to speak in a moment. Now, Todd. Do you understand how your actions in the auditorium could be taken as something other than funny?”

Todd furrowed his brow and nodded. “I do understand that. Believe me; I had a totally different objective.”

Yeah, I bet you did, you jackhole
. For a second I imagined grabbing the wooden Buddha off Maggie Klein’s bookshelf and using it to give Todd’s face a totally different objective. But of course, I didn’t. I pride myself on restraint. Maggie Klein continued. “And you realize that a doll like that represents the objectification of women in a most deprecating way?”

Aha. All right. Finally she was going to let loose. She must’ve been one of those roundabout hell givers. The kind who trick you into getting comfortable and thinking the noose is a necktie. Until they sneak up behind you and pull the lever.

Todd shook his head and leaned toward Maggie Klein.

“Objectify women? Me? Come on, Maggie, do you really think I’m the kind of person to objectify women?” He flashed his phony smile at her.

Maggie Klein melted in front of me. “No, of course not,”

she said, returning his smile, and throwing a few girly giggles in on top. Todd had slipped out of the noose. “I’m glad we cleared that up.” She clapped her hands together and said,

“Okay! I think we can really start this session from a place of peace now.”

Todd looked at me and beamed. His charming bullshit was getting him off scot-free, and he knew it. Wow.

It seemed that I had grossly underestimated the Nonecked Neanderthal. I slammed my hands down on the arms of my chair and cried, “What the
hell
?”

Maggie Klein issued a condescending sigh and said,

“Fiona, in my office, there is no yelling, and
no
cursing. All communication is done in a mature, constructive fashion. Do I make myself clear?” She gave me what I suppose was meant to be a stern face. Looked more like the side effects of severe constipation.

“No,” I said, “you don’t make yourself clear. Nothing 46 Kristin Walker

you’ve said makes any freaking sense at all. How is it that this jerk-face can humiliate me in front of the whole entire student body, and you don’t bat an eye? But if I say the word
hell
in your office,
then
you get mad?
No
, Maggie Klein, that is not clear at all.”

Maggie Klein blinked a few times and said, “Humiliate you? What makes you think Todd’s little antics were directed at you?”

Todd leaned over the arm of his chair. “Yes, Fiona. Why on earth would you think that was about you?
Hmmmm
?”

I sat there with my yap open. Maggie Klein had never connected that the doll was me. And how could I explain that it was? By going over the soggy details of Callie Brooks’s seventh birthday party? From ten years ago? And in front of Todd?

No freaking way. Nope. I was stuck. I was screwed. I rubbed the soles of my sneakers together. “Well, I just . . . figured it . . . was,” I mumbled.

Maggie Klein said, “Now, Todd. There’s no mistaking that the doll was inappropriate. But you didn’t intend for it to represent Fiona, did you? That would be extremely meanspirited. Not to mention a clear case of sexual harassment.”

I noticed Todd’s grin slip when he heard that. He crossed his arms, looked down at the floor, and started bouncing one leg up and down.

Maggie Klein went on. “And I’m sure that was far beyond the scope of your intentions for your little caper. Am I correct?”

Todd shrugged. “Sure.”