A Match Made in High School (5 page)

“Because that would be a serious offense requiring disciplinary action.”

Todd nodded slowly but kept quiet. Maybe he wasn’t in the noose, but Maggie Klein was definitely dangling it in front of him. I figured that was about as close to resolution as I was going to get. Revenge, however, would get much closer.

“Okay, let’s push on. First, we need to figure out what your shared activity will be for the semester. Who’s going to choose this time?”

Todd and I each belted out, “
I am
.”

“Well, you both can’t pick. Let’s try Rock Paper Scissors. Whoever wins picks this semester. The other person can select the real-world job.”

Todd and I turned to face each other. It was a gunfight in the MK corral. I figured I had him pretty well sussed. He was macho. Pseudo-tough guy. He’d definitely go Rock. We balled our fists. Slapped them on our palms three times saying, “Rock, paper, scissors,
shoot
.” I threw out my hand as Paper.

Todd had thrown Scissors. Damn. I should have known. Scissors cut. Scissors could stab. Scissors were shiny and sharp, like Todd.

“What will it be, Todd?” Maggie Klein chirped.

“Well, Maggie, for our first-semester activity, Fiona and I will share the experience of cheerleading.”

Let me just pause to give a brief history of Todd Harding and cheerleading. It’s a legendary story at ECHS. Freshman year, Todd moved to East Columbus and played football. He was some kind of prodigy or star or 48 Kristin Walker

whatever. Anyway, halfway through the game with Lincoln High, Todd gets sacked and cracks four ribs. He’s out for the season. Todd’s mother goes mental and forbids him from playing football ever again.

Fast-forward to sophomore year. Todd and Amanda have been dating for a while. She’s a cheerleader and convinces him to try out for the winter squad so they can spend more time together. Barf, I know. But he does, and, because he’s strong, they can do these crazy mounts or stunts, and bigger pyramids and crap now. So the cheerleaders love him. But one day Brendan Jackson, who was the varsity quarterback, calls Todd queer because he’s a cheerleader. And Todd says (and this is the really famous part), “Lemme get this straight, Brendan. I spend all afternoon with my hands between a hot cheerleader’s thighs, looking up her skirt as I hold her above me. Meanwhile, you’re bent over, sticking your fingers in some fat guy’s butt crack again and again. But
I’m
the gay one?” That shut up Brendan and anyone else who ever thought of giving Todd a hard time. But it wasn’t going to shut me up.

“No way. I’m not taking part in some costumed display of bouncing boobs that espouses phony school spirit and is disguised as a sport.” That was my little way of hiding the fact that one, I have no boobs, and two, I couldn’t do sports.

“Don’t worry,” Todd said, “you won’t be doing any actual cheering.” He bounced his head from side to side. “You can be the squad water girl.” He slurped from an invisible water bottle.

I opened my mouth to object, loudly, but Maggie Klein cut me off. “It’s settled, then! Cheerleading it is.” She wrote it in the stupid marriage ed file. “Fiona, have you given any thought to what job you’d like to share with Todd to earn your real-world cash?

No, of course I hadn’t. I had blocked this damn course from my mind as much as possible. “Yes,” I lied. But only one job popped into my head—the one I already had. I said, “I babysit for an eleven-year-old girl. I’d have to check with her parents, but if they give the okay, then Todd and I can babysit together.” The instant those words hit the air, I did a mental head-smack. I’d just forfeited my only source of spending money for the entire semester.
Ugh.
I hoped, hoped, hoped Todd would object. Then I could make up something else. Leaf raking, maybe. Leaf raking would’ve been perfect!

But Todd waved his hand in the air, saying, “Pshhh, no prob.”

“Wait, I changed my mind,” I said. “Leaf raking. We’ll rake leaves.”

“No, no,” Todd said. “You said babysitting. We’ll do babysitting.” He grinned at me and blinked a few times. “It’ll give us more quality together time.”

“Oooh, nice observation, Todd!” Maggie Klein said. I tried to object. “But—”

Maggie Klein scribbled on the sheet. “I’ve already written it down. Okay, you two are babysitters. Great.”

Dammit.

50 Kristin Walker

“Now, let’s move on to the budget.” Maggie Klein held out a red velvet bag with a drawstring top. “Todd, I’d like you to reach in here and select a coin.”

Todd stretched out his hand. I thought I saw his fingers graze hers as he reached inside. I was almost sure I saw his wrist brush against her thumbs as he playfully swirled his hand inside the bag. I definitely saw her blushing. He pulled out a coin with the number 150 on it.

“Well done, Todd! One-fifty is the highest Income Factor available. There are only two of them in the bag. Okay, multiply any cash you earn by 150, and that’s how much you have to spend on the monthly expenses outlined in your packet. You decide together what to spend it on, and turn it in to me at the end of each month. She leaned closer to Todd and made her voice all lilty. “I’ll bet you can buy the nice house.” I swear she fluttered her eyelashes at him. He leaned in to her. “And the luxury hybrid car.” They both laughed.

“One more thing,” she said. “Even though you perform your job together, you must decide who in the marriage is theoretically the breadwinner. Is it just one of you? Do you both contribute to the household? It may come into play later on in the course, so decide carefully. Questions?”

I pride myself on my ability to keep my mouth shut, so I shook my head.

Todd said, “No, Maggie, you’ve explained it very well.”

Maggie Klein blushed again. Todd was some kind of charisma savant. A sexy hypnotist for lonely, aging women. Total cougar crack.

“Okay, then. Remember to write in your journals. And note on your schedules that we have a regular fifteen-minute counseling session every . . .” She snatched up a sheet of paper. “. . . Tuesday at eleven o’clock. So I’ll see the two of you then, okay?” She really liked to make sure things were okay.

“Looking forward to it,” Todd said, reaching out his hand. She clasped it gently and they shook. How is it that pretty boys can get away with so much crap?

ThE ART oF puLLING pRANkS IS SoMEThING I’VE

never mastered. In fact, I can’t even tell jokes. I always mix up the words, or laugh too hard at myself, or get to the punch line only to realize I’d forgotten a key piece of information. (“Wait, wait, did I mention he was wearing a wet suit? I forgot to say he was wearing a wet suit. Pretend I said that.”) So it was a good thing I had Mar and Johnny to help strategize a plan for revenge on Todd. By the time we got everything together and got to the gym that night, the dance had already started. We stopped in the lobby outside the gym doors to do a double check. Music thumped inside.

“Okay, so everyone knows what they’re doing?” I asked. Mar and Johnny nodded.

Johnny shifted his weight and hitched up his jeans. “You got it all ready?” he asked me.

I patted the pouch pocket of my Connells hoodie.

“Locked and loaded.”

“It’s not too late to walk away, Fee,” Marcie said.

“No chance.” I tightened my ponytail. “All right, let’s go in, split up, and make a recon sweep around the room. We’ll meet back up by the entrance. Sound good?”

They both said yup, so we went inside.

The gym walls and ceiling were strewn with silver and white streamers, silver balloons, and white tissue-paper wedding bells. It looked like a giant wedding cake had exploded in there. The lights were dimmed except for these colored dance lights and some kind of strobe-effect fixture. I peeled off to the right while Johnny and Mar went left. I’d told them that we were looking for Todd. What I hadn’t told them was that I was also looking for Gabe. I hadn’t been to many dances (shocker, I know), so the anticipation of seeing Gabe at one was a major distraction. It was the main reason I hadn’t been able to focus on planning a prank. Luckily, Johnny had come up with a rather twisted and hilarious idea to get back at Todd. But first, we had to find him.

Once my eyes adjusted to the low light inside the gym, I caught sight of Todd and Amanda over by the bleachers. She dropped her purse down on the lowest bench, and he covered it with his jacket, presumably so no one would steal her stash of lip gloss, breath mints, and birth control pills. I knew she was on the Pill because she’d made a big deal of telling everyone about it one day in gym class, sophomore year. Her periods were irregular, she’d said. Her mother’s doctor
made
her go on the pill. Yeah, right. I guess it was only a coincidence that she’d started dating Todd a few weeks before. As for the lip gloss and breath mints, well, those were pure speculation. Her lips always looked like she’d been frenching a tub of margarine. And I hoped for her sake that she had some breath mints. She needed them. 54 Kristin Walker

Todd turned my way, and I jumped back around the side of the bleachers so he wouldn’t see me. Just as I peeked to see if the coast was clear, whose hotness passed right in front of me? You guessed it. Gabe. I made a mental note: black shirt, blue jeans. How did he get those brown curls to fall so perfectly? He started walking down the length of the bleachers, so I did the only logical thing—I ducked underneath the bleachers to follow him from there. I could just see slivers of him through the slats in the stands as he walked. Then he stopped. He was talking to someone, but I couldn’t see who. He sat on the bottom row. I had no choice but to get on my hands and knees and crawl closer to him.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been under the bleachers in a high school gym, but let me tell you, it’s no carousel ride. In our gym, there’s only so far the mops can reach under the bleachers. So even though it was the first week of school, the floor under the lower levels was revolting. Coated with sticky, dried soda, and encrusted with dust and dead bugs, candy wrappers, every variety of crumb and hair, and probably some unmentionable body fluids. But I didn’t flinch. I was a girl on a mission. I gagged as debris stuck to my palms, but I kept on. Finally, I got within earshot.

“But I need to see you,” he said.

Then a girl spoke one word. “Gabe . . .”

He wasn’t just talking to anyone; he was talking to a girl. Needing to see her. I tried to swallow, but my throat closed. I craned my neck to see through the cracks between the bleacher seats, but I only got a glimpse of Gabe’s ass. Not a bad view, really.

“You said we’d be together tonight,” he said. “I want to be with you.”

I strained to hear more, but suddenly, some superloud music started playing. I couldn’t hear a thing. But I’d heard enough. After a few more seconds, Gabe stood up and walked away. I never saw the girl. But I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to find out who she was.

First, I had a job to do, though. I crawled out, brushed my hands off, and met up with Johnny and Mar at the gym entrance. I pulled Mar to me and whispered, “I have to tell you something. Later.”

“Uh, Fiona?” Johnny said. “My buddy Noah is running the sound. He said that at eight-thirty, he’s supposed to stop the music. They’re going to bring up the lights so Principal Miller can make a speech or something. Might be a good time to do it. With the lights on. So people can see.”

“Ooooh, I like how you think, Johnny Mercer,” I said. I also realized that if we waited a bit, I’d have a chance to tell Mar about Gabe. I figured I should probably wash the hepatitis C off my hands, anyway, so I said, “I’m gonna run to the ladies’. Wanna come, Mar?” I didn’t really give her a choice, of course; I dragged her off by her elbow. We got to the bathroom and I checked around to see if anyone I gave a crap about was in there. Nobody was, so I said, “So guess what? Gabe is seeing someone.”

Marcie fluffed her hair in the mirror. “He is? How do you know?”

I got some soap and started washing my hands. In the fluorescent light of the bathroom, I could see they were 56 Kristin Walker

pretty nasty. So were the knees of my cargos. I kinda turned my back to Mar, but I think she might’ve noticed anyway. “I heard him talking to her,” I said.

“Who was it?” She pulled a lip gloss out of her pocket and started applying.

“I couldn’t quite see.”

Marcie raised her eyebrows at me in the mirror. “What do you mean, you couldn’t quite see?”

“I was sort of hiding.” I left out where.

Marcie turned and glared at me. “You were eavesdropping.”

“Yeah, so?”

She slapped the sink and looked at the ceiling. “Fiona. Dignity. Come on.” I could read the pity in her face. She was so above these sorts of machinations. She always had been. Proper, well-bred. But stable and comforting. Actually, those were some of the reasons I liked her. Probably because I was none of those things.

“You don’t have any idea who it is, do you?” I asked. Marcie turned back to the mirror. “What makes you think I know?”

“I bet Amanda knows. I wonder if it’s one of the cheerleaders. Do you think it could be Tessa Hathaway?”

“Tessa Hathaway? Her boyfriend started college this year. Do you really think she’s gonna drop him to go back to high school guys?”

“Maybe she’s lonely.”

“Let it go.”

“I’ve
got
to find out.”

Marcie sighed. “Look, let’s get back out there. Johnny’s waiting for us.” She straightened the little black stones on her necklace. Checked her amethyst earrings.

“Yeah, okay.” I dried my hands and we left.

We found Johnny sitting on the bleachers across the gym. Mar and I sat on either side of him. His shoulders sloped as he scooted forward to the edge of the seat and looked at his watch. He said, “Twenty-seven minutes until the speech.”

“We’ve got some time to kill,” I said.

Marcie stood back up and adjusted the strap on her lavender tank top. “I’m going to get something to drink. You guys want anything?”

I shook my head. Johnny said, “No, thanks.”

“Okay. I’ll be back.” She walked off toward the corner of the gym where the snacks were.

“Don’t be late,” I called, kidding. But not.

Marcie fake-smiled over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Then she disappeared into the crowd of dancers gyrating around the gym floor.

“She doesn’t seem too excited about this whole thing, does she?”

Johnny shrugged. “Not much.”

I took off my glasses and pulled my hand into my sleeve so I could wipe the lenses with it. “It’s not her fault. Pranks aren’t her thing. She comes from a totally different social echelon. Her mother’s family has old money. Made it from one of the original Chicago stockyards. I don’t know how much is left, but Mrs. Beaufort still taught Marcie to sit up 58 Kristin Walker

straight, use the right fork, write thank-you notes. Manners. You know.”

“Oh,” he said, squinting up at one of the multicolored light units hanging from the basketball net.

I slipped my glasses back on. “Not that I don’t have manners. I do. But my parents aren’t nuts about them like Marcie’s mom. When I’m at her house, you know, I have to be
so
careful not to drink out of the toilet.” Johnny laughed. I said, “Her mom is nice, but she can be pretty snobby. This one time, Marcie’s parents took us into Chicago for dinner at Alinea, this molecular gastronomy restaurant.”

Johnny looked at me and scrunched up his face. “Is that food? It sounds gross.”

“Oh no, it’s a crazy-good restaurant. Won all these awards. And it’s nice—I mean linen napkins, real art on the walls, the whole nine yards. And men have to wear a jacket, right? So this one guy walks in, and not only does he not have a jacket, he’s wearing a baseball cap. When Marcie’s mom sees him over at the door, she gets all huffy and whispers, ‘NOCD,’ to Mar.”

“What’s NOCD?”

“Not Our Class, Dear. Marcie explained later. Anyone NOCD is clearly below the Beaufort family social station, according to her mom. She said her mom uses NOCD as a kind of code. Like a secret snob spy or something.”

Johnny scratched his sideburn and ran his fingers through his hair. He tried to get a cowlick over his right eye to stay back, but it kept falling forward. “I don’t get it,” he said. “If the guy can’t hear her, why use a code?”

I leaned back on the bench behind us and stretched my