The bell rings. People scurry to their next class, and I seize the opportunity when no one else is around to check the board. I scan down columns of names until I find mine.
SARA LIN: 32%
A gasp sticks in my throat. That can’t be right, can it? This is the worst grade I’ve ever gotten in my entire history of school. Why is it so low? Did I really bomb that badly?
Ugh, what was I thinking? Subwayboy knows what he’s talking about when it comes to calculus. I just need to focus on retaining the information. But, geez, how embarrassing is this grade printed here for all to see? Why does Mr. Day do this? Hasn’t he ever heard of emailing grades? I guess that’s too much work, but whatever.
I refuse to let this awful grade sit here for all to see, so I reach into my shoulder bag and peel a tiny piglet sticker from a sticker sheet and cover up the offending grade.
I’vefailed. Worse, I’m going to have to tell Dad, which means no school festival.
My life is over.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Patrick
I’m not a complex guy, really. All I want is a sincere apology from Sara. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.
As I walk through the school doors the next morning, I wonder if today is the day Sara comes to this realization herself. It’s been over a week since we last spoke. This is the longest we’ve gone without talking aside from the time she went on vacation with her dad and accidentally dropped her phone in the ocean, which she said made her feel like “a prairie girl” since she had no technological means of communication.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss her.
I’m extra-early, which means there aren’t a ton of students around. Am I secretly hoping Sara’s early, too, and that she’ll approach me with an apology? Maybe. But I don’t spot her anywhere.
I do, however, find her tutor when I round the corner to get to my locker. There’s no one else in this wing. Huh. I wonder why he’s also early.
“Hey, Sara’s tutor.”
He glances over his shoulder and, upon recognizing me, arranges his face into a look of utter annoyance. Without a single word he resumes digging through his locker. Pretty rude, if you ask me. What did I ever do to him?
“You’re here early.” Then, just to get under his skin, I say, “Avoiding someone?”
His head jerks in my direction, clearly caught off guard. “What? Uh—no.”
“C’mon, I know you’re Sara’s neighbor,” I say, cutting through his white lie. “She tells me everything, although we’re kind of going through a rough patch right now. She was supposed to do me a favor, but then she forgot and it really screwed me over.”
Oliver shoves a textbook in his locker.Hard. Metal rattles, echoing through the empty hall.
“Anyway, I’m trying to figure out how to make amends with her,” I go on. “I don’t want to just let it go, you know? So I’m hoping she’ll apologize—”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Well, since you’re her tutor and you spend so much time together, I was hoping maybe you’d talk to her.”
Did this plan form in my mind the minute I saw him standing here alone? Yes. Will I admit that to him? Never.
Oliver slams his locker then whirls around to face me, mouth flat. “Nope. No way. No. Stop involving me in your weird relationship problem. I’ve got enough going on already. Figure it out on your own.”
I scoff then slide my backpack straps off my shoulders. No wonder Sara called tutoring a nightmare. This guy’s the worst.
“What are you eventalkingabout? When have we ever involved you, dude?”
He tugs his backpack on, glaring at me from behind those glasses he always wears. “I’m not an idiot. I remember you two from the subway station.”
My heart lurches in my chest. I’m too shocked to immediately lob a snarky reply, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s already walking away.
“Why—wait,what? ” I splutter. “I mean, what subway station? I’ve never even been there! I don’t know what a subway is!”
