Talking Out Loud

Will

There’s something about Abbi’s voice that makes my very being shiver.

“Will!” she calls from behind me as I walk to second period AP Calc. This is the only class that we have together.

“How was English?” I ask as we sit down.

          “Fine, fabulous, tremendous, wonderful, amazing. Cam was talking about the audition results (that haven’t come out yet) the whole time, but it was fine. How was Spanish?” she asks, her fingers massaging her head.

          “Okay. Tyler is still as insane as ever,” I say and, after removing her hands, rub her head, dinging in the way she likes. Her eyes flutter, but remain open.

          “What did he do today?”

          “Nothing out of the ordinary. Rude comments, spit wads, the works.”

          “I would have thought that by 12th grade, he would’ve outgrown those childish habits.” I start to say something, but Mr. Sanders’ deep voice cut me off.

          “William, get your hands out of Miss StClair’s hair and face forward.” I turn, but not before my face burns.

          Abbi finds my hand while we’re leaving, but soon slips away toward her art class, talking to her Asian friend, as I head towards AP US History. I sit through the whole period half-listening to the lecture and try to care that the pilgrims sailed not knowing what they were getting into in America.

          The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, making me feel that I’m being watched. I look around, but there seems to be nobody there. I try to relax, but my instincts kick in and I’m on edge. I look to my right, and finally notice a girl with light brown hair looking my way. She’s pretty, not as pretty as Abbi, but she catches my attention. I remember her name: Lavender. She’s one of Abbi’s friends. She looks at me quizzically; I shake my head, but the feeling doesn’t go away.

          Our teacher starts to lecture on the conditions of early Plymouth, but it’s soon interrupted by the bell. “Your homework is on page 114, one through ten. Class dismissed.”

          I head toward lunch; by books slam against the table by Abbi, who is already down with her Snapple and salad. I run through the line quickly, hoping to avoid any collision with Cameron before I start to eat, but by the time I’m out, she’s already across from Abbi. I groan inwardly, and sit down next to abbi, who’s nibbling at her salad as Cam talks.

          “It’s going to be, like, totally cool. You should really come,” Cam says.

          “When is it again?” Abbi asks. I can tell she’s annoyed because she doesn’t use her signature big words, but Cam doesn’t notice.

          “This Friday; 8-10,” she says. I see Abbi struggling to say no, so I intervene.

          “She can’t. Not on Friday. That’s our movie night with Enna.” I say, clasping Abbi’s free hand under the table. She squeezes back, telling me that she got the hint.

          “I totally and completely forgot. Enna would be so disappointed if we didn’t save Friday for her. Sorry Cam, but maybe another day,” Abbi says, a sparkle coming back to her dazzling green eyes.

          “Oh, all right. See you later. Taylor is waiting for me,” Cam says, and hurries off to a table across the room.

          “Thanks. Her parties aren’t what they used to be,” Abbi says, smiling at me.

          “I didn’t tell you, but Enna really did ask me to ask you to a movie so that she can tag along.” Abbi shakes her head.

          “That girl thinks everything is about her. I love her to death, but she just needs a really good kick sometime. We are going to see The Hunger Games though, right? When are we going?”

          “Saturday at 5. Datish style. Popcorn included.” She laughs.

          “When can I say no to popcorn? Let Enna know that she can pick a movie from my cupboard and that we’ll take her out to dinner as well. I’ll by. We’ll meet her at 5, that way she can get to bed at a decent time.”

          “I’ll let her know,” I say just as the bell rings. She gives my hand one last squeeze, releases it, and the puts her tray up.