The Spirit Keeper (2 page)

By the time I finally made it to class, I was already ten minutes late. Mrs. Raines was at the whiteboard with her back turned to everyone, so I snuck in and wiggled my fingers at Priscilla on the way to my seat. She touched her bottom lip and shrugged her shoulders, but I just rolled my eyes and shook my head. She’d have to wait until after class to hear the details.

“Mrs. Raines,” Katie said, turning around in her seat to glower at me. I had just sat down and was unloading my books from my bag, but I closed my eyes in defeat, knowing what was coming. “Be sure not to mark Sarah absent today. It turns out she’s here, after all. She’s just
late
.”

Mrs. Raines stopped mid-stroke and turned to face the class, her eyes darting around before finally landing on me. “You’re tardy,” she said, as if that fact hadn’t already been established.

“Yes. That would appear to be true,” I said out of pure nervousness, which set off a wave of muffled giggling. Talking back to Mrs. Raines was like poking a sleeping bear:
a very bad idea
.

I gave Katie the stink-eye for tattling, but she just smiled really big and turned back around. It occurred to me that someone so mean shouldn’t be allowed to have teeth as perfect as hers. And then I wondered what she’d look like with one of them missing.

“Do you have a pass?”

I considered telling Mrs. Raines exactly what had happened, that one of Katie’s minions had tripped me in the hall and left me with a fat, bloody lip. But then I remembered who I was talking to. It’s not like she actually cared about what went on outside the classroom. I’d already tried that approach once before.

“No,” I said.

Mrs. Raines smiled—she
actually
smiled—as if expecting my answer all along. “Detention. After school. One hour.”

My cheeks felt instantly hot. I had known this would happen, and yet I couldn’t believe it was
really
happening. People like me—people on the honor roll—just didn’t get detention.

“But I have to work today!” I said.

“That’s not my problem, Miss Redbird. If you can’t make it this afternoon, you can serve double detention Monday and Tuesday. Your choice.”

“Fine,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I’ll be here.” I shut my mouth so I wouldn’t be tempted to say anything else that might make it worse.  

“Let this be a lesson to you,” she said, pointing an arthritic finger at me and then around the classroom, “and to everyone else. Do not be late to my class. Just because it’s almost the end of the school year does not give you permission to slack off.”

Mrs. Raines turned once again to the whiteboard. I put my forehead on the edge of my desk and stared at my thighs. Katie was the biggest witch
ever
.

One of these days, I thought.

After a few minutes, I felt a tap on my right shoulder. I turned my head, and the guy sitting next to me placed a note in front of my nose. I recognized the chicken scratch at once and sat up, glancing to the front of the room where Priscilla sat drumming her fingers against the desk top. I waited until Mrs. Raines was off on a tangent and then quietly unfolded the paper.

Detention, huh? Birds of a feather, and all that. You won’t be alone. I’ve got detention, too. Yeah, yeah. Spare me the lecture. ~P

Priscilla had been my best friend since the fifth grade, the year I went to live with Aunt Meg and her brother, David, on the other side of town. I’d had to transfer schools and everything, which pretty much sucked. But Priscilla and I saw eye to eye on almost everything, especially our mutual hate of Katie.

I picked up my pen and scribbled
obviously my repeated lectures haven’t done any good
and
I’ll tell you what happened at lunch
on the paper before folding it closed. When Mrs. Raines wasn’t looking, I passed the note to my neighbor, and it slowly made its way to the front of the room.

Texting would be a lot more efficient, I thought, for what had to be the hundredth time. Sooner or later we were bound to get caught passing notes.

When class was finally over, I gathered my books and plucked the detention slip from Mrs. Raines’s gnarled fingers, refusing to meet her eyes or say anything to her. Then I slogged out the door to meet Priscilla.

She smiled and clapped me on the back as though I’d just won a major award. “So what are the odds we’d both get sentenced to an afternoon in purgatory on the very same day, huh?” 

I turned a critical eye on her. “I’m beginning to think you secretly love detention.”

“As if. I’m just incredibly unlucky.”

We followed the herd to the cafeteria, having to practically yell at each other to be heard over the noise. “Spill it,” I said. “What are you in for this time?”

“The usual.”

I rolled my eyes. “You couldn’t give it up for one measly hour? When are you going to learn?”

Priscilla looked horrified at the suggestion, her freckled nose scrunching up to show just how crazy an idea she thought that was. “The problem is Coach Wally doesn’t understand it’s a compulsion. I am literally
compelled
to chew gum. Like how some people twist their hair or pick their nose.”

“That’s disgusting,” I said, though it didn’t stop me from laughing.

Priscilla went on. “So we were sitting on the field listening to Coach Wally tell us
again
how to pass a stupid soccer ball, and he called me to the front of the class. I assumed he wanted me to show everyone my awesome soccer skills.”

“Only you don’t play soccer,” I pointed out. “Or any other sport, for that matter.”

“That’s beside the point,” Priscilla said, waving her hand for me to be quiet. “Anyway, I assumed he wanted me to demonstrate my awesome soccer skills. But then he tore a piece of paper from his notebook and told me to spit my gum in it. And
then
he told me to sit back down and proceeded to give us a ten-minute lecture about why we’re not supposed to chew gum during gym. Like we haven’t heard
that
one before.”  

Coach Wally strictly prohibited gum-chewing during gym. This rule was especially because of the kid who nearly choked on a piece at the beginning of the year. Coach had to perform the Heimlich, and then the district got all nervous and sent home a note to parents warning of the dangers of chewing gum while doing any sort of physical activity. As if we’re all completely inept at chewing gum and walking at the same time.

“So did that little incident embarrass you enough to quit?” I asked.

Priscilla snorted. “Not a chance. And I didn’t spit it out. I just stuck it under my tongue. See?” She pushed out the piece of chewed gum with her tongue and held it clenched between her front teeth.

“And what if you had choked?” I said, biting back my laughter while attempting to give Priscilla what I hoped was a severe look. “Coach would’ve had to give you the Heimlich. Or even CPR.”

Priscilla cringed. “Ew. Okay, Miss Smarty Pants. I didn’t exactly think of that.” Then her face bloomed into a smile. “I might not care so much if he looked like Taylor Lautner, but he’s definitely no Taylor Lautner. Or Jackson Rathbone, for that matter. Now
that
boy is hot.”

I laughed. “I think you’ve watched Twilight one too many times.”

We entered the bee-hive of a cafeteria, and I immediately veered toward the milkshake dispenser for my daily dose. Then I grabbed a slice of cheese pizza from under the warmer and paid the cashier. I stuffed the change into the pocket of my frayed denim shorts, knowing that the loose coins most likely wouldn’t see the light of day again until Meg fished them out of the washing machine. I tried not to feel too guilty about that as I walked off.

I had just met Priscilla near the side door when an uprising of laughter caught our attention, and we both turned to see what was happening. Not surprisingly, Katie was at the center of the commotion.

“That’s gross,” I observed. “Isn’t there some policy against giving lap-dances at school?”

Katie was straddling some guy’s lap and had her hands twined through his dark hair. The girl seriously did not know the meaning of personal space. To his credit, the guy didn’t appear to be enjoying it too much. He batted away her hands and stood up, almost dumping Katie on her butt. Priscilla and I laughed at that. But Katie just tugged on his hand and linked her arm through his, keeping him from walking away.

I actually felt sorry for him.

“That’s Adrian,” Priscilla said. “He just transferred here. He’s in my calculus class.”

“He’s cute. I’m sure Katie will have him wrapped around her little finger in no time at all.”

“You’re not related, are you?” she asked, a deliberate teasing in her voice.

I narrowed an eye at her. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. He could be Hispanic for all we know. Or Asian.” I squinted to get a better look. “It’s kind of hard to tell from here.”

“For your information, I’m
not
assuming. I heard him talking to the teacher about it. Apparently he used to live on some reservation up north.” Priscilla shook her head in awe, her smile widening. “Can you imagine? An actual
Indian
reservation. Do you think he lived in a tepee and wore leather moccasins? God, I bet he looks hot in leather.”

I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from Katie and this Adrian guy, and I felt the blood start to boil underneath my skin. “Why is Katie being all nice to
him
? She makes fun of me for being Indian all the time.”

Priscilla snorted. “For one thing, he’s a guy. And for another, just look at him.”

I sighed. “Point taken.” Then I pushed through the side exit, Priscilla’s laughter trailing behind me.

We sat down on the pocked concrete stairs overlooking the faculty and staff parking lot. It wasn’t the most scenic view, but it had been our spot for the past three years. Almost everyone else had stayed inside to eat, but there was a spattering of small groups braving the heat, sitting on the browning grass or at the wooden picnic benches in the courtyard.

“So are you going to tell me why you were late to class and what that fat lip is all about?” Priscilla asked once we had gotten settled.

I took a pull on the chocolate shake, but it was so thick it was like trying to suck up a lemon. I gave up and took off the lid, licking the semi-frozen liquid from the straw. “You’re an intelligent girl. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

Priscilla sucked the juice and pulp from an orange slice and fixed the naked peel over her teeth. She smiled at me and then burst into a snorting laugh that came out mostly through her nose.

I rolled my eyes. “Forget what I said about being intelligent.”

She spit the peel into her hand. “Why don’t you just punch her in the face and get it over with?”

“Don’t think I haven’t considered it,” I told her. I closed my eyes and for one sweet moment envisioned my fist connecting with Katie’s perfect little nose, making her bleed out all over her Ralph Lauren sweater set.

“Then do it,” she said. “You know you want to.”

I opened my eyes again and stared down at my feet. “She’s not worth it. Katie and I will be stuck here together for another year, and then I’ll hopefully be rid of her forever. It’s just a matter of hanging in there and putting up with her for a little while longer.”

Priscilla chuckled, and I looked up to see her grinning, her blue eyes narrowing in amusement. “Yeah, until you go off to college and get stuck with someone exactly like her as your roommate. Face it, you’re just scared she’ll hit back.”

“I am not!” I said. And then I added sheepishly, “Well, maybe a little.”

“I’m more than happy to do it for you if and when you change your mind. All you have to do is say the word.”

“Aw, thank you,” I said, throwing my arm around Priscilla’s neck. “Only a true comrade would offer to beat up the class witch for the sake of friendship.”