Chapter 7: Geekfest (September)- Christina
When I was a freshman, being a senior seemed like the coolest thing ever. My brothers, Jake and John, walked around as if they owned Southton High, their varsity letters covered with shiny pins. No one ever bothered them about homework, or gave them detention for being late to class. The crowded noisy hallways transformed into neat orderly rows as teammates and fans greeted my brothers and stepped aside to let them pass. They're identical twins and incredible soccer players, so they got attention no matter where they went. I thought it would be cool to go to school with my brothers, but after a month, I was sick to death of girls asking me to introduce them to Jake and John. By the end of the school year, I was relieved when they graduated. I actually thought about changing my name so people would stop asking me about them. I love my brothers- they're the best- but a girl can only take so much.
My first day as a senior was nothing like that. No ticker tape parade greeted me in the hallways. No adoring fans followed me or offered to do my homework. Some kid's backpack threw up all over the eagle mascot painted on the floor of the foyer. I slipped on a notebook or something and felt a pen crack under my shoe. A few teammates shouted out greetings as we passed each other in the hall on the way to class. It was way too hot to wear anything other than denim shorts and a t-shirt that read "Soccer is life." I wanted to cut my hair off and save myself the trouble of combing it, but the last time I did that I made my mom cry.
"Your beautiful hair! Oh, Christina, what have you done?"
"Mom, Jake dared me! And my hair was making me crazy!"
"But with your father's electric razor? What were you thinking?"
I was thinking I could be like my big brothers, who got buzz cuts every six weeks with Dad like clockwork. I was only ten. The guilt ate away at me until I promised not to do it again.
Instead of a buzz cut I settled for a messy bun.
My day was pretty uneventful, until I went to physics. I had a monster schedule, including English literature, physics, American history and trig. I had to pass all three with a 3.0 to bring up my GPA and earn the scholarship. Getting a 3.0 was going to be like climbing Mount Rushmore in my flip flops on a pogo stick. With my eyes closed.
I'm not stupid. It just takes me longer to read things, and everything in school involves reading. I don't have the patience for that, so I don't understand most of what's going on in my classes. All the words start running together and looking like alphabet soup after a few lines. Who wants to read The Grapes of Wrath when you can play soccer instead?
I only made it this far with help from my mom and bribes from my dad and a few nice teachers who didn't want me to get kicked off the soccer team. But now I was a senior, and I couldn't avoid the hardest classes any more. Not only did I need them to earn that scholarship; I also needed them to graduate.
Still brooding about how much school sucked, I sat down at a lab table in physics. Out of all my classes, physics was going to be the biggest challenge. None of my friends were in the class with me, which was the first thing I noticed as I glanced around. If I had to rank my classes by levels of difficulty, physics would be the worst. It combined my two least favorite things, reading and math. Across from me at the table was a kid I hadn't seen before, wearing a green checkered shirt. He had a head of curly brown hair, and he was reading from a textbook.
"Hey!" He looked up at the sound of my voice. He was even younger than I first thought, with big brown eyes and pink cheeks. He had to be a freshman. What was he doing in a room full of juniors and seniors?
"Hi." He didn't smile, just went back to reading his book.
"Where did you get that book?"
He looked at me again. His face was kind of blotchy, like he had been crying. Was he scared or unhappy? "The teacher set them on the corner of her desk."
I stood up and walked to the front of the room to pick up a textbook and syllabus. I don't get all mushy when I see a puppy, and I didn't cry at the end of Ghost. But something about this kid sitting there with his big backpack on and those big sad brown eyes made me feel charitable. He was so skinny a breeze could have knocked him down. And he must be new, wearing his best shirt to school like his mom helped dress him this morning.
"Looks like Mrs. Cranky is at it again." He didn't answer me. He was writing something in his notebook.
"She's the only teacher in school that would give us work to do before she's taught us anything."
No answer.
"Hey!" He jumped and finally looked up. "What's your name?"
"Edison."
"I'm Chris." I waited, but he said nothing more. "You okay?"
He nodded, continuing to work on our first assignment. His notebook was covered with letters and numbers, drawings of angles and words. It looked like another language to me. I opened my text and scanned the first page, looking for clues about what I was supposed to be doing. I glanced around. Mrs. Crinkle was writing notes on the board, and students were copying things in their notebooks. A few people had their books open like Edison.
"What're you doing?"
"I'm working."
"On what?"
"Physics."
"I know, but where did you get the assignment? Did she say something before I got here?"
Edison reluctantly stopped working and looked me in the eye. "She hasn't given work yet. I was just writing down some stuff from the first chapter in the book."
"Oh! You're taking notes. That's a good idea."
"No. I'm not taking notes. I was comparing inconsistencies in the first chapter with my own research. Mrs. Crinkle is writing notes on the board that you can copy."
"Why aren't you copying them?"
He looked at me, the lost puppy dog look gone. His face was expressionless, his tone flat. "I don't need them. I've already read this book."
I stared at him, and he stared right back. "What do you mean you already read the book? It's the first day of class."
He didn't answer. Instead, he went back to his scribbling. I was going to say something else, but Mrs. Crinkle chose that moment to call my name. "Ms. Blakely? Do you have a question?"
I shook my head and got out a pen. Edison continued to write in his notebook, ignoring me for the rest of the period. I didn't know whether to feel sorry for the little nerd or annoyed by his weirdness.
I had time after physics to swing by my locker and drop off my books before heading to the courtyard for lunch. My locker is on the way, and I had no intention of lugging that heavy physics book around for another second. Thankfully, the two people who had lockers on either side of mine weren't there, so I could get in and out quickly. Anna would be waiting for me in the courtyard, and I couldn't wait to tell her about my classes. As I spun around, I stepped right into Travis Johnston. Thankfully my head was down as we bumped heads; otherwise I would've ended up kissing him.
"What the--? Travis! What are you doing right behind me?" I rubbed my forehead, as if that would erase the pain of bumping into him.
"Hey, Chris. Sorry to catch you like that. I was just gonna say hi and you turned around so fast that I didn't have time to back up." He put a hand in his pocket and readjusted his backpack. He smiled, like that was enough to make up for his clumsiness.
"Sorry about that. I don't want to be late for lunch."
He stood in my way, unaware of the other students as they walked around him.
"You must be really hungry."
"Yeah. Starving. And my friend's waiting for me."
"I'll walk with you. I'm hungry too."
"No. I'm late." Travis continued to block my way, watching me with dark brown eyes and a grin on his face. I had seen that grin before when he talked his way out of detention or threw a great pass on the field. It was his "walk on water" grin, as Anna called it, because as the captain and quarterback of the best football team in the state, he could just about get away with murder—and he knew it.
"You almost kissed me, Chris. I usually save that part for the end of the date."
My mouth dropped open. "What? I did not! You ran into me!"
Travis laughed. "Would it really be that bad if we kissed by accident? You look like I accused you of a crime."
"I have to go." I tried to go around Travis, but he fell forward, suddenly knocked off balance. He reached out for me and grabbed my shoulder to steady himself.
"Hey!" He turned suddenly and snapped, "What the hell are you doing?"
Behind him was the little geek from my physics class. I knew it was him right away because of his curly brown hair. He had a paper in his hand and backpack straps on both shoulders. He looked terrified as Travis took hold of his shirt in one of his big hands.
"Sorry. I was looking at my map and-"
Travis glanced at me and then looked at the kid again. "Your map? Are you lost? Can't find your way home?"
The kid's face—what was his name again?—turned beet red. He looked like he was going to cry. For real. I stepped around them, not wanting to watch Travis turn this rookie into roadkill. A crowd had started gathering around them, and I didn't have time for fighting or flirting. Anna was waiting.
As I slipped around them, something in the kid's face made me stop. He looked so—innocent. Like a little kid who accidentally disturbed a beehive. He didn't deserve what he was about to get, weird or not.
I put my hand on Travis's arm. "Hey, don't pick on the new kid. He just wanted your autograph."
Travis looked at me, loosening his grip on the shirt. "My autograph? Ha! You're funny, Chris." I watched as the little guy darted away while I distracted Travis.
"Yeah, and you're famous. See you later." I walked away in the opposite direction, my good deed done for the day.
As a rule, I don't usually eat lunch in the cafeteria; we have a nice courtyard and on warm days it's much better to eat outside than to smell the mystery meat being served inside. Anna was sitting at our favorite table, the one by the grass with the least amount of rust and a nice view of the soccer and football fields. I waved as I walked over, eager to dig into my lunch and share my misery.
"Oh my god, Anna, I have the worst schedule." I sat down and pulled out my sandwich and orange.
"Me too. I've got trig first period. I hate math." She was already munching on a salad, which she only eats during soccer season. She claims that eating salad helps keep her weight down and makes her faster on the field.
"I've got trig, but not until after lunch. But guess what?" I paused and swallowed another bite. "I've got physics in the morning with Mrs. Cranky."
"Oh, she's the worst! Did she give homework?"
I nodded. "Didn't you have her last year?"
"Yeah."
"Help me out."
"Can't. Barely passed. I don't even know where my notes are. Sorry."
We chewed in silence for a while as I thought of ways to get out of that class. Transfer schools? Get hit by a bus? Death by chocolate? But all of those ideas would also end my soccer season. I sighed. "It's okay. I just don't know anyone else in the class."
"Travis was in my class last year. Maybe he still has his notes."
I crossed my eyes and made a face. Anna laughed, snorting water out of her nose.
"I wouldn't ask Travis for help if he was the last man on the planet. He almost beat up this freshman just because the kid bumped into him in the hall today. He's a jerk."
Anna wiped her face with a napkin. "He may be a jerk but he's hot."
"I don't care. I don't have time for dating. I've got to get good grades or I can't keep my scholarship."
"How good?"
"The best I've ever had."
"I'll help you. We'll study trig together." Anna didn't struggle at school like I did, and she had helped me study for tests before.
"Thanks." I took a swig of water. "I don't know what I'm gonna do. If I don't get my grades up, I can't play soccer next year."
She reached across the table and patted my hand. "Don't worry, Chris. I know you'll get it or die trying. You're the toughest girl I know."
I nodded, but really I was thinking, could I actually die from too much studying?