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S
he's practically skipping out of his room. Twirling a feather in her hand as if she were a three-year-old. Her dress, spinning colors, shows her thighs, strong and thick. I should not have stared.

Lately, she has this way of looking at me as if I didn't exist. She does not smile much at me, either. Holding her books high up to her chest like they're a shield, she keeps her distance. “Hello,” I say.

She speeds up, walking past me as quickly as she can. Blocking students in the hallway, I sit staring. In the past, she would have said, see you later. Call me. Take me to the movies. Something.

“Hello, Adonis.”

“Hello, Mr. Epperson. I need to speak to you about Patricia.”

Standing, he waves his hands. “Can't. Not now. I have a staff meeting. I need tons of copies,” he says, leafing through his desk papers.

“But —”

He apologizes. “Tomorrow I can talk.”

I caught Patricia two weeks ago. Mr. Epperson has missed five school days since then. If I go to the principal, he wouldn't like it. If I don't speak up soon, well — integrity. Honor codes. They matter.

Autumn has not made it very far. She's standing beside her teacher, giving hugs to some guys from the team when they pass by. High on her toes like a ballerina, she's giggling about something Allen is saying to her. Slowly, I push myself up the ramp, thinking how silly she is.

The other evening, Ma and I were discussing Autumn's attributes. I thought it was a fruitless conversation at first. But later, I saw her point.

Autumn does not cheat. She speaks to everyone. Besides wrestling, smiling is her favorite activity. She will tell you everything about herself. Too much, I believe. Those are a few of the things I've written down. “She is a strong competitor, everyone likes her, and she thinks you are wonderful.” Ma wanted me to add those.

The list is at home. Under my mattress. In an envelope. Taped closed.

Classes have not begun as of yet. I go to my favorite spot, the library.

Upstairs, I pick through books on the shelf. I want something light, not my usual heavy reading.

“Yo, Adonis.” Jaxxon is at a table with a girl, talking on his cell. Papers and books are spread everywhere. “What's up?”

Usually when he is at the library, he is consumed with Autumn and her friends. He hardly ever speaks to me. Most guys don't. “Hello.”

He is working on a PowerPoint presentation, plus a seven-page English paper, he tells me. That's a surprise. I didn't know regular classes did that sort of thing. “I'm stuck,” he tells me.

I think about that word and Autumn. I wish him good luck.

“You ever read this book?” He holds it up, shaking it. “I know what you thinking … I read … better than Autumn.”

That is what people would say if I went out with her.

I can hear the person on his cell talking. Jaxxon looks frustrated. He has two pages done. He's never used
PowerPoint. I wonder,
Why is he asking me?
“Did Autumn begin her paper?”

She is in his reading class, not his English class, he tells me. When I pass him, he looks at me like I am pond scum. “Why she like you anyway?”

Upstairs, sitting at the table alone, I look over at Raven. She is still with that eighth grader. They hold hands under the table while they study. A few other girls, sitting in furry blue chairs low to the ground, fool with one another's hair. There are not many people here. Almost everyone is with someone else. It's weird realizing that you are always alone.

A
in't got too much time. So I say it. “Miss Baker, I
can
read better. I got a plan.” Getting help, tutoring, is part of my plan, I tell her while kids walking outta class push past me.

Reading books — that's in my plan, too. While I'm talking to her, my head saying,
You can't read. Never will.

Raising my voice, shouting like I'm trying to speak over somebody talking right next to me, I say, “I'm starting with the thin ones … at home … by myself …!” I ask her, “Do graphic novels count?”

Her arms stay folded. But her smile gets wider, listening. Stepping aside to let kids out, she say how proud she is of me. “Over the last few months, all I could think was … I'm losing another one of my babies.” She standing back, looking at me like I'm on a runway, modeling.
“You walked in late so many times … missing half the period. The entire thing, some days.” Shaking her head, letting out a deep breath, she telling me that teachers want students to excel. “When we all see you losing ground, baby, it's heartbreaking.”

I'm embarrassed. Proud. Scared, too. It's hard saying out loud what I'm gonna do. 'Cause it mean she and Mr. E.— all my teachers — expecting me to do it. “What you think, Miss Baker?”

Her arms feel like a warm Snuggie, wrapping tight around me. My heart beating fast. Can I do it? Gotta do it. Read better. For me.
You gonna fail … a like you always do,
I hear myself say, way deep down inside.

Wrestlers win first in their heads, Coach says. Readers, too, I figure, wondering sometimes if I ain't my own opponent.

 

Going up the hall, I see him, Adonis. Twice in one day. Plus I go to the library for lunch today. I'll see him there — won't chase him. But I still like to watch him out the corner of my eye anyhow. One day I won't like him. Today he making me twinkle inside, like a planet not discovered but still shining brighter than the moon.

“Hi.” Dang it. Didn't mean to stop.

“Hello, Autumn.”

I like when he has a fresh cut. They put good-smelling stuff on his hair. Even when he gone away from me, I smell it.
Keep walking, Autumn Knight
, I'm telling myself.

Sitting in his chair, squirming, he looking up at me. I look away. It's hard. But I do. Now my feet moving, taking me away from him.

Peaches grabbing me by the arm, pulling me off. “I need to speak to you.”

She upset, talking low, looking back at him. He know, she say. And he gonna tell on her. “Mr. E. wants to see me.” She stops. “Adonis will be there, too.”

“Who?”

“Adonis.”

“Adonis?”

She telling how when he came to class, he saw her cheating. She ain't tell me earlier.

“Pattie's gonna kill me.” I hear her say under her breath. “He beat me. He's smarter than me.”

Adonis is smarter than most everybody. I don't know if he smarter than her, really. “You just stuck”— I bend down, pointing to gum hard and dirty on the floor. Can't just pick it up or scrape it with your fingernail. You need a knife. Something strong — “stuck like this gum.” Walking up the hall, my arm around her, I tell
Peaches Adonis is stuck, too. “I'm not talking about that chair.” Looking at me, she smiling. “He stuck in here.” I point to my head. “Scared, I think.” I tell her to think about it. “A smart boy like that with no friends. Me cute. And he don't want me. Scared.”

She laughing, saying he not afraid of nothing. “Even in the pond. He never screamed.”

“You saw him?”

Peaches look like she just got caught cheating. “Yeah. I was there.”

In football, everyone wants to see a touchdown. In hockey, it's the puck fiercely flying past the goalie and into the net that makes the crowd cheer. In wrestling, it's the pin.

Sometimes at the end of a match I wonder, has anything in life ever pinned me? Held me down? Patricia would say yes. She would point to the pond incident as her proof. But I would disagree. I think about the incident a lot. I will for years to come, I believe.

But nothing will pin me down or stop me. Determination should be my middle name. Autumn is determined, too. Even when I think she's losing, she seems to come out ahead. Can anything pin her? I'm not certain anymore.

A
donis.” When Autumn says my name, it sounds as if she's singing.

The period is almost over.

“Can I talk to you? In the back?”

Only volunteers and employees are permitted there. I explain this to her, while my wheels turn. “Just this once,” I say.

Autumn sits in a chair beside me, leaning her elbow on a pile of books placed on the table.
Hush.
That's a good title for a book, she says. Then she brings up Patricia, and how sorry she is for cheating in math. “Please, Adonis. Don't tell. She won't do it no more.”

I pull at the knot in my tie. “How many times did she do it, Autumn?”

She does not know the exact number, but Patricia has been cheating off and on for months, she says. She ruined the curve, I tell Autumn. Cheated on her friends, not just the test. “I have to tell.”

I do not want her to see me upset. I am concentrating on books all around me. They are stacked on shelves, sitting in boxes. I work hard when I come to the library.

“You don't know her,” she starts off.

“I don't know her?” I'm trying very hard not to upset myself. “You do not know what you are talking about, Autumn Knight.” I am livid. She tells me that Patricia's parents pressure her to do well. “That's no reason to cheat.”

“She just … thought … well.”

Nothing infuriates me more than someone who thinks they know more than they do. “You cannot tell me anything about Patricia. I know my own cousin.”

She hops out of the chair. “Cousin!” Picking up books like they're dirty dishes from a table, she walks around aimlessly. “Y'all cousins?” she says, sitting the books near the cabinet. Scratching. She has not done that for a while.

I take off my watch. “She's my father's oldest cousin's daughter. We never see that side of the family.”

Patricia would never tell her. So I do. Listening to the story, she cannot believe her ears. “I would have drowned. But Macon called the police, and two other boys held my head above the water.” Picking at the frayed band, I shove the watch in my pocket.

It's been a long time since I've told the story to anyone. I do not think I will tell it ever again. I still get e-mails from teachers who ask if I am doing well. They always mention the pond. I did not drown. My reputation as the boy who could do anything did.

When I am famous, they will still talk about it. When Autumn is an adult, people will forget about her poor grades. They will only remember that she was a great wrestler. The only girl wrestler on our team.

Tears well up in Autumn's eyes. All this time, she never knew the full story. It's worse than she thought, she tells me. “I just want you to know.” Her finger slides down my nose. “You ain't deserve to be treated like that.”

I lean forward. Finding her lips. Tasting cherry this time.

Pulling her into me, I open my eyes wide and stare. Kissing her again, I think of the day in the pond. And try not to cry.