Cal dropped his hand from where he’d been pinching his lips. By the death glare he threw Trent, it seemed he might explode across the desk and choke him. Suddenly, Cal swallowed hard, his eyes darted in my direction, not quite reaching me, and then he glanced out the window.
“Nothing,” he said.
“These sessions will only help if you let them, Cal.”
“You forget,Trent, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want your help.” Enough acid dripped from his tone I had to check the floor beneath his feet to make sure it hadn’t been eaten away.
“Good thing it’s not your choice.” Trent turned to me. “How about you, Jack?”
“What about me?” I asked, stalling.
“Anything bothering you? Any attitude you wanna throw at me over these mandatory sessions?”
My good-guy willpower broke as Trent aimed his temper at me for no reason.
“Let me stop you there.” I gestured between Cal and me. “First off, we might be forced in here together, but we aren’t the same person. So don’t bark at me if your conversation with him isn’t going how your textbook said it would. Secondly, if I had any attitude to throw, it wouldn’t be over this. This is high school, and it lasts until May. Why stress over this temporary shit? Now, you, on the other hand, you’ll still be here, trying to reach kids who don’t want to be reached. Is there anything you’d like to discuss, Trent? Get off your chest? How did Cal’s attitude make you feel?”
Cal snorted.
“Both of you are already on such thin ice, it amazes me how you keep pounding it with your heel.”
“I’ve been called stubborn,” Cal said.
“Maybe I’d rather get to the water below. Get rushed along instead of stuck here,” I said.
Trent ignored us. “With Halloween being midweek, the school is jumping right ahead with preparations for Thanksgiving. Guess what you two will be doing?”
“I’m thinking decorating,” Cal said with a smirk.
“I bet there’s a box for it in the basement.”
“Maybe fake turkeys or fall leaves. I’ve got some ideas.”
“Or we could double up the holidays. Scary pilgrims splattered in fake blood,” I said.
“Real blood.”
“Too far, dude. That’s why you’re in here.”
Cal slapped one thick thigh with his palm, then pointed at me. “That settles it. Your blood.”
I snorted. This back-and-forth had a different edge to it. In spite of the obvious conversation we were yet to have, this felt comfortable, almost friendly. We’d always been quick with the witty remarks, but with the glint in his eyes, I could believe this was—affectionate.
At least, I didn’t think he wanted to hit me.
An involuntary tug on one corner of my lips imitated a smile. “Not gonna happen, Winters. You might be the running back, but you don’t have the stamina of a playmaker like me.”
Trent slammed his hand on his desk. “Are you two finished?” Without waiting for an answer, he dropped a large stack of brown paper in front of us, then a cutout of what I assumed was a turkey based on the rounded center and feathers sticking off its ass.
“Make cutouts until you run out of paper.”
Cal picked up the turkey we were to use as the cutting guide. “There’s only one.”
“You’ll have to share. That’s the point of this. Forcing you to work together.”
When the hour was up, we both stood and headed for the door. Trent stopped us with a snap and pointed at the pile of paper and turkey for our new project. Cal was closer, so he grabbed all of it.
“This is stupid,” he said when we were in the hallway.
