No Time Like Now (Lesbian)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Technically, the whole not picking up Jeremiah and Ikra that one day wasn't my fault. Does that make me feel any less guilty? Nope.

Maybe a little.

Point is, the following Tuesday, I'm arguing with Jeremiah over the radio station as we're waiting for Ikra to get her ass out of the house. She conveniently comes out with her bulging backpack as we settle for one of my CDs. 

Jeremiah fights with the CD slot until he gives up and hands me the most recent Death Cab for Cutie CD. "What's the backpack for?" he asks behind him.

Adjusting in the back seat, Ikra responds, "Several bags of blades, covered in blood, for my project in sculpture class."

"For real?"

"No, you dumb ass."

Cue an argument between them for the rest of the drive. 

With the car parked and all of us getting out, Jeremiah switches from claiming how Ikra's a bigger dumb ass to simply guessing what the backpack was full of. I don't bother listening; there's homework I completely forgot to do yesterday.

They follow me to a half-empty table in the cafeteria, where I spread out with a textbook and papers. I notice Josh the next table over with some buddies of his. They're loud about some play-offs that went wrong recently. 

"Clothes for the donation thing at the front office?" Jeremiah attempts for the fifth time.

"What?" A pause, and Ikra clarifies, "Were you talking about the Lost and Found?"

"Oh... in my defense, I haven't been in the office a lot."

She snarks, "Clearly."

They're still getting at each other while I'm trying to figure out what the era in 1811-1820 Britain was called. The textbook's playing 'hide the fucking answer'.

Josh's buddies get quieter, catching my attention. Given his current reputation,  I'm not too irrational to assume they're plotting against Shadler again. I'm also sure he was the reason Shadler's projector crapped out the other day, halting his lessons.

Now's my time to shine as a spy.

Where did I put the recorder app?

Found it.

"Come on, just tell me," Jeremiah whines. "It's gonna annoy me all day if I don't know."

Ikra lets out a 'ha!' "Thanks for the ammo. I'm really not telling you now."

I wait for Jeremiah's storm of swears to end before pressing 'record' and setting the phone as close to Josh as possible.

Eventually, Ikra turns to me. "What's been going on with you?"

"What do you mean?" How many questions do I have left?

Thirteen. Fuck.

"I got a text from you saying you had fun at King's Wit." She shows me the text from Saturday night. "I know for a fact it's for someone else because I don't know what the hell King's Wit is. Is it a Shakespeare theater?"

I'm internally face palming. How could I have been so stupid? Aspen and Ikra are on opposite ends of my contacts.

"It's a restaurant," I mumble, still berating myself over the mistake.

"Close enough. Who was it for?"

It was a bad time for me to hesitate. But seriously, how was I gonna answer? Do I tell the truth? Lie? What are the consequences?

I wish I can see the future based on my decisions.

Jeremiah's staring into my thinking face. "It's Aspen, isn't it?"

"I don't want to know how you guessed."

He shrugs. "Randomly. But thanks for confirming it."

"No prob," I deadpan. Twelve more questions to answer. 

He's not dropping the subject. "What'd you guys do?"

Eleven now.

"Niamh?"

"I'm doing homework. Can't you tell?"

He leans over. "I can tell you're avoiding the question. Does that mean what I think it means?"

Noticing my irritation, Ikra speaks up. "Bro, just drop it."

"Why?" he probes. "What are you hiding from me?"

"I don't know, my privacy?" I say.

By now, Josh and his friends stand up and walk away, still in their conversation. I grab my phone and stop the recorder. My chances of getting something concrete is slim, but hopefully I get something out of it.

Jeremiah finally drops the subject when Ikra threatens to use a cheese grater against him. He's sitting far away from her and using his legs to cover his crotch. Ikra's pleased with herself for the creative threat. 

With minutes to spare, I finish the homework. Go through my backpack for anything else I forgot. Other than my will to live, I have everything.

I wait until the middle of first period to ask for the bathroom pass. Go through the usual 'you should have gone before coming here' and 'sorry for not guessing when my bladder wants to empty' exchange. Five minutes later I'm in the most isolated bathroom I can find.

Seriously. I had to walk in and duck out of three bathrooms because there were people. I'm gonna get a rumor going around about how I'm some kind of a bathroom perv.

For extra security, I close the bathroom door and lock it. Yeah, I'm not kidding about the isolation.

I bring up the recording and play it.

Suffer through the loud, annoying morning the recording captured.

Josh's voice can be heard, but only if the speakers are in my ear. I have to guess what his friends are saying. I hear Shadler's name being used, and also dumbass. Which is the mildest of the names they call him through the recording.

If I'm not wrong, this is what they said:

Josh: "I went to him after class ya know, and I was trying to get him to understand that I did the work and deserve an A. That dumbass had the guts to tell me I'm wrong and I'm 'lucky he's not taking this to the principal'."

Buddy one: "What bullshit. Why involve the principal?"

Josh: "'Cause he thinks I plagiarized. Fucker believed I took someone else's shit." 

Buddy two: "That's retarded. I stole a section straight from Wiki and he didn't notice. He's out for you, dude."

Josh: "I know, right?"

Some garbled talking. Damn it. The next thing I hear is Josh just saying he was gonna make Shadler pay.

Buddy two: "How you gonna do that? Steal his lunch money?"

Josh: "Nah, that's stupid."

Buddy two: "I know, that's why I said it."

The recording ends. Yeah, they were talking shit about Shadler. But damn, it's not much on the plotting. 

I unlock the bathroom and walk out, disappointed. I may have hoped too much to find damning information on the first attempt. 

But I learned one thing, at least. I need to record him outside of the room because I'm not suffering through another recording of the song of sleep-deprived, caffeinated people again.