Reject High (Reject High: A Young Adult Science Fiction Series Book 1) (2 page)

She crossed her arms over her chest and backed against the sink. “So am I. Your stepmom might. What makes you think the teachers care
that much?”
She nodded to the center stall. “They’re all here to get a check and go home. It’s Reject High. You get shipped here when nobody wants to deal with you.”

Yep, it had happened. Right there. Cherish Watkins shot herself. Small brown spots of her dried blood lined the outside of the drain grate. The ringing homeroom bell interrupted us.

“Quit worrying. You a momma’s boy, or something?”

“
My mom’s dead.”

“Sorry. Chill out is all I meant.”

I shrugged my backpack down from my shoulders and went straight for my MP4. Rhapsody turned on her MP4 player and rocked out to some loud heavy metal. I blasted hip-hop and slid down to the black and white checkered floor. For a while, everything seemed okay. I closed my eyes and listened to almost every song on two different albums. An hour-and-a-half passed. We didn’t say a word to each other.

Then, in the middle of third period, I had to pee. I tried to hold it, but the more I thought about it, the more I needed to go. The first stall was closest to me. She’d have to stand on a seat and peek over the walls to see anything. I
glanced all around, but didn’t see anything.
Good thing I didn’t have gas.
Satisfied, I kicked the toilet handle with my foot.

“Seriously?” Rhapsody shouted at me. “You
suck
at skipping.” When she stomped closer, I remembered my pants were still open.

“
You
said no one cared!” I turned around to zip up and washed my hands. 

“We’ve got maybe two minutes before an SRO gets down here. Grab your crap, sit on the seat and shut up,” she growled. “Can you handle that?”

We’re screwed – the stalls don’t have doors. Who’s the genius now?
“Shouldn’t we run, then?”

Tired of waiting for me, she entered the middle stall. “Alright, Captain Obvious. Get caught then.”

Soon the slow
click-click
sound of approaching footsteps against the hallway flooring made me do what Goth Girl said. When I squatted on the seat, I found out why Debra yells at me to lift it up at home.

Screeching
hinges warned me we were no longer alone.

“Anybody in here?”

Did he really expect us to answer? I’d deny doing anything wrong, even if there was proof of me doing it. It works in court, so it might work for me here, too. Besides, someone
died
here. Someone would have to be really smart, or
strange,
to cut class here.

Click-click.
He closed in – not a flashlight cop, but a Student Resource Officer with a loaded gun. He stopped, gazed at himself in the mirror and plucked a few nose hairs with his fingers.

I almost forgot not to laugh. 

The guy’s name badge said
S. Spivey 0344.
Spivey inspected the inside of Rhapsody’s stall, the empty one at the end, and then mine. He stared at me, face-to-face and used his radio.

My heart settled in my throat. 
We’re so busted!

“Spivey here,” he said, still facing me. “All clear. They must’ve run.”

Was this guy blind or stupid? I waved my hand. Spivey stopped. Did he see me after all? I guess not, because he closed the open window and walked away. 

About a minute later, Rhapsody reappeared in front of me. “Next time, don’t flush.”  

CHAPTER TWO

I get kissed and punched

I wasn’t dreaming, and of all the things I forget to do, taking my Adderall was not one of them. I’d never hallucinated before, and I hadn’t blacked out this time.

Rhapsody waited a minute before washing her hands and patting them dry on her purple cargo pants. She checked the time on her wristwatch. “Bell’s about to ring. Chicken fingers today, and I’m about to eat my arm off.”

She’s talking about food and I’m thinking “legally insane” should be added to my IEP.

“Food, you know, that stuff you shove in your mouth a couple times a day? It’s one of the few things worth doing here. Let’s go.”

I wanted answers, so I trailed after her.

We stopped so she could peek into the hallway. Rhapsody waved her hand and we lingered at the end of the corridor together. A fresh breeze blew at our backs from the open windows, which helped dry my sweaty, white Oakland Raiders t-shirt. In four hours, I’d knocked out my first enemy in a new school, met a girl, and had a psychotic break. Chicken tenders and a Coke sounded good and safe.

When the bell rang, Rhapsody grabbed my left hand. She navigated us a path through the students.
Alright, I like holding her hand, even if we’re not going out or friends. I haven’t held a girl’s hand in months.

Inside the cafeteria, I caught the aroma of chicken and my stomach rumbled. The lunch tables were long and tan, and the ten stools connected to each table were gray with maroon streaks. With only one lunch line, we could either eat what was served or do without. There was a Coke machine, but the spouts did not have nozzles and the front wasn’t lit up. Guess I’d have to drink juice, or milk and have a stomachache later. I chose to stick around Rhapsody until I got my bearings.

Five baked chicken strips and an ice cream scoop of mashed potatoes on our plates later, we claimed seats at a lunch table without a problem. As I chewed on the crispy, greasy lumps, the tension in my shoulders loosened. Mid-chew, I leaned over into Rhapsody’s ear. “Talk.” 

“Not finished eating.”

I wondered if she’d seen my Hulk impression. Anyone who’d ever witnessed my rage said I attacked like an animal, and they’d wondered if I’d ever stop. According to the report about the incident that put me here, two policemen and Ed Tracy, the biggest of North High’s assistant principals, had to pull me off of Ryan.  

Once Rhapsody swallowed the final bite and drank half of her grape juice, she glanced at me, to her right. Her eyes blinked rapidly.

“What’s up?” I whipped my head around and didn’t see anything.

She quickly popped two white squares into her mouth. “Not here,” she said while chewing. “Kiss me.”

“Wait,
what?”

She lunged forward and pressed her lips against mine, to a chorus of howls. It wasn’t my first kiss, but it was by far the best. I eased back, but she didn’t let up.

That’s when a pair of hands shoved us apart.
“You
and you.” I recognized the bushy mustache, military-buzzed brown hair and checkered golf shirt – our principal, Ron Welker. He was my history teacher at North High last year and pretended like he had my back. “My office. Right now.”

He escorted us out of the lunchroom. On the way out, we passed Selby, who sneered at me and drew his thumb in a cutthroat motion across his neck. He remembered me after all.

“You owe me, Cap,” said Rhapsody. “Big time.”

A few minutes later, we arrived in Welker’s tiny coatroom closet of an office. He collected army junk and his office was stocked wall-to-wall with it.

He pointed to two worn cloth chairs.
“Sit.
I’ll be right back.”

We did as we were told. I turned my body toward hers. “Can you not do anything crazy for once and tell me what’s going on?”

“Selby was coming for you. I needed. . .”

“You needed what? To stick your tongue down my throat?”

Rhapsody unzipped her vest, revealing a necklace. “A distraction – I used this. It used to be Cherish’s.”

The charm caught my attention. It was a round green emerald, set behind five black metal lines that intersected at two points. “I can fight on my own.”

She popped a small gum bubble and zipped up. “Not this one. Selby’s a cutter. I didn’t have time to answer dumb questions. I bet your IEP says ‘asks dumb questions’, doesn’t it?”

I saved the nasty word I’d called her in my mind for another time. “He cuts himself?”

She sucked her teeth. “Yah. Other people, too, but he hasn’t gotten caught yet.”

Her fast-and-loose attitude got on my nerves. “You should sit sideways.”

“Why?” she asked innocently.

“So you don’t break off the stick jammed up your. . .”

“Alright!” Rhapsody interrupted me, giggling. “I deserved that.”

The stalling was getting old. “What
really
happened, in the bathroom?”

Before she could reply Welker returned, holding a pair of red folders in his hand. One of them held twice as many white papers as the other. The big one was probably mine. “Kissing in the lunchroom is an inappropriate display of affection. Ms. Lowe, you should know that by now.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Welker.” Did she always sound this sarcastic? Rhapsody might not have meant it that way, but the bulging vein in the principal’s forehead suggested he thought she did. 

“Jason Champion. I know you – this isn’t your style. Care to defend yourself?”

“No, sir.”
I’ve starred in this movie before. Admit fault, show respect, and maybe we’ll get a lighter sentence - after the “take responsibility for your actions” speech. 

Welker’s wrinkles deepened as he poked at the papers in our folders. “I’m surprised to see you back so soon,” he said to Rhapsody in a serious tone.

I watched my partner-in-crime for a reaction. She slumped down, her chin trembling. She touched a spot on her vest near the necklace. “It’s whatever.”

“If you need to talk about things, or anything else, let me know.
Anytime.
We’re all confused and hurting here.
”

Rhapsody blinked away tears. “Yeah.”

I held my breath.
Please, not another suspension. And don’t call home.

“Three days of afterschool detention for both of you. Report to dungeon duty after the seventh period bell and take the 4 p.m. late bus home. Do it, and it will stay between us.”

“Yes, sir.” I tried not to sound so excited that my prayers had been answered. I could still beat Debra home and easily make up a flimsy excuse, if I needed one. What was “dungeon duty,” anyway?

“Skip it and I’ll call home before suspending you both to a formal hearing.” He scribbled hall passes on green squares of paper and handed one to each of us. “Get to class. No more kissing.”

Outside of Welker’s office Rhapsody started walking away. I fished in my back pocket for my class schedule.
Earth
Science with Jeff Peters, room 105.

“Hey! Rhapsody, wait.”

“Why?” she snapped without breaking stride. “Fifth period is half over. Use a map. I’m not your freaking tour guide anymore.”

I pointed toward the South Hall and silently mouthed, “Bathroom?”

Rhapsody shook her head and pointed behind her back. “I’ve got Peters in 105.”

“Hold up,” I said, jogging to catch her. She still owed me answers. “I’m going there, too.”

She smirked at me. “Any good at it? I need a partner.”

It was one of the few talents I had. “I’m not stupid, if that’s what you mean.”

Rhapsody broke to her left at the end of the north hall. The room numbers started at 125 and descended on opposite sides – odd to the right, even to the left.

I needed answers. “I don’t get it – you cut every period but this one? And what’s
dungeon duty
?”

“I don’t skip gym either. Sometimes we play something where I get to hit people. Seventh is study hall, and that’s a wash. They let us eat and listen to music.”

She dodged explaining how she pulled that Invisible Woman routine. She’d give me at least one straight answer, and if she didn’t, I’d press her until she did. “So, what’s
dungeon duty
?”

“Cleanup detail, in the basement.” She sighed. “Don’t worry, Cap. It’s easy.” 

“No worries – and my name is
Jason.”
If I wanted to be called Captain anything, I’d carry a red, white and blue shield or join the army in two years.

While we were still in the hallway, our teacher called out from his open door. “Mr. Champion, Ms. Lowe – glad you two could join us,” he sniped.

Rhapsody shot over to her seat in the front, to the right of the window fixture and glanced at me, then at the seat next to her. For a moment I froze. Was there another option? Just one – at the back, within arm’s reach of Selby. Nope, he’d set me on fire with a Bunsen burner or something. I settled for the lesser of two evils.

Mr. Peters looked more like a professional wrestler than a scientist. His rolled-up shirt sleeves exposed a set of pumped-up forearms, and his neck had to at least be eighteen inches around. He was bald, except for black stubble forming a semicircle around the sides of his head. His stocky build reminded me of Selby, who I’m sure plotted my death at the back of the room.

“Let’s recap. We’ve been discussing the recent solar storms and their effects on technology inside the earth’s atmosphere. Notice your cell phone losing its signal, or your Wi-Fi malfunctioning? We’ve all felt the pinch somehow, some way.  Here’s the really interesting part, Back in the eighteenth century, the Carrington event. . .”

While Peters explained something about isotopes and “mineral decomposition” I zoned out. Ripping a sheet of paper out of my notebook, I wrote
what happened in the bathroom?

Rhapsody ignored me, so I poked her arm with my pencil eraser until she took it. When Peters turned his back, she scribbled underneath my writing and passed it back.

AFTER SCHOOL!

Now, I had hope. In the
dungeon
, she’d say something about Spivey.
Did she blind him?
If she could do that, why kiss me instead of making Selby blind? Man, did I have questions, and they weren’t stupid at all.
I’ll ask her, “How did we disappear?” That’s fair.
And I’d accept the answer – as long as it made sense.

“Mr. Champion?” Peters’ gruff voice broke my daydream.

I looked down. He didn’t have the note. Rhapsody was gathering her things. The bell had already rung and the other students had already filed out.

“Do you two want to be partners? Rhapsody hasn’t had one. . .for a while.”

Did I have a choice? I looked at Rhapsody, who gently bit her lip. For the first time, she expressed an emotion besides sarcasm, irritation or apathy –
like she wanted it to happen.
Then, I figured out who Rhapsody’s previous partner must have been and why she suddenly needed a replacement. 

“Sure,” I said.

“Good. Next time, be on time and pay attention, alright? Get out of here.”

Next, in sixth period, we had gym – but the boys and girls never mixed. The reason we exercised separately was not a secret: “raging hormones.” They caused every known teenage problem, according to our teachers. Pregnancy, yes, and maybe we get a little rowdy. Dodge ball did not require touching. Of all of the things I had to deal with in my life, girls were pretty low on the list.   

Because I was not paying attention, I caught a few rubber balls to the head, even after I was called
out
. On the other side of the gym, Rhapsody wore a blue t-shirt and short navy blue shorts. Unlike other Goth girls, she had tanned and nicely shaped legs. I stood on the baseline, next to the asthmatic kids and the ones who’d rather die than play a physical game. The girls were teasing Rhapsody about something. One of them was Asia Jackson, who found a way to make any outfit trashy, including a gym uniform. Whatever Asia said to her, it rattled her cage.
I don’t think I’ll ask Rhapsody about it.

I slept through study hall, and then the end-of-school bell rang. Chaos exploded into the hallways again. Before I could try searching for my guide, Selby grabbed me by the throat and slammed me up against the lockers. He hit me with three hard fists to the gut. Without any leverage, my hardest punches and kicks did little to slow his attack.

Out of breath, I dropped to the floor and he disappeared. Rhapsody knelt low enough for me to see her. “Told you.”

“Shut up. . .” I coughed. “For once.”

She clutched my forearm. My cheek was probably beet red, and I tasted blood in my mouth.

“C’mon. We’re gonna be late.”

If I learned anything that day, it was that anything Rhapsody cared about – shallow or not – there was a reason behind it. This explanation ought to be good.