He and I stared each other down until Valentine shrugged and looked away.
Screensaver came back to life. “What’s going to happen to the Three Musketeers?”
Fire Crotch scratched his temple. “There are four of us.”
“Yeah, but everyone knows you never count yourself.”
My eyes widened. Jesus Christ. Please tell me I wasn’t as slow-witted as them when I was high. I mean, everyone was entitled to be stupid, but these dudes were abusing the privilege.
“Listen, guys, I’ve got five minutes to get to chemistry. I’ll see you later. Oh, and if you go to the zoo,” I said, addressing Screensaver, “no petting the kitties.”
As I walked away, I could hear him trying desperately to save his earlier argument. “One. Two. Three. See? The Three Musketeers.”
* * *
Not only did I meet Principal King’s deadline, I beat it by two minutes. Maybe I should have been late, though, seeing that Mrs. Lee blocked me at the entrance, all ninety pounds of her.
“Not so fast, Mr. McKallister. I need a note from the office first.”
“King is on his way.” And just as the words left my mouth, the principal rounded the corner, and I stood by awkwardly as the two exchanged a hushed conversation about me. She requested my reassignment but was emphatically denied. As the big man took his leave, I attempted to make myself as inconspicuous as possible by slinking back to my lab table.
“Hold up there, Keith,” she called to me. I turned around and she walked up, leaning in and speaking for my ears only. “Just so we’re clear. You’re forbidden from disturbing my class unless you’re bleeding, vomiting, or on fire.”
A laugh burst from my gut. Well, hell… Mrs. Lee had a sense of humor. I could work with that.
“Is there any wiggle room when it comes to fire?”
This timeshelaughed. “No, Keith, there is not.”
“Fine. I’ll do my best not to burst into flames.”
“Thank you.” A smile fluttered to her lips.
I met her smile and raised her one. “Oh, and Mrs. Lee?”
“Yes?”
“Mark my words, I’m gonna make you proud.”
“Keith, nothing would make me happier.”
My lab partner was already there when I arrived at the table, and she seemed about as happy to see me as Mrs. Lee had been – although I suspect for an entirely different reason. The poor girl was a blusher. I’d found that out at the lunch area on the first day of school when I’d waved at her for no other reason than I was bored. Big mistake. First came the aforementioned blushing and then the strategically placed hand hiding her face. Then for some inexplicable reason, she’d freaked out and ran from the lunch tables in an overly dramatic fashion.
In hindsight, I should’ve been less friendly. I mean, I knew nothing about the nerdy crew or where their triggers might lie, so who was to say a wave in the Star Trek crowd didn’t mean something entirely different? Smart girls were tricky like that. From what I’d gathered through trial and error, the higher the SAT score, the less impressed a female was with my overall being. Not that I had a ton of experience with them to begin with. Typically, the honors kids refrained from interacting with me. Maybe they feared my stupidity would rub off on them, I don’t know. But what I did know was this girl, with her divided, color-coded binder and back as straight as an arrow – she was definitely part of that extra credit crowd.
“Hey there, partner.” Hair tumbled over my forehead as I tipped my head in her direction. After the day I’d had, I wasn’t feeling particularly charming, but I needed to win this girl over, and quickly. Normally I wouldn’t give two shits about someone I had zero interest in, but given the promise I’d made to my father, my priorities would need to change. People who’d been merely background players before were about to take center stage in my life. If I had any hope of passing chemistry, this little ball of tension sitting before me needed to be unraveled.
“Hey,” she answered in a voice that sounded both hesitant and hardened. There were none of those embarrassed giggles from a few days ago. It was as if the dopey conversation I’d had with her the other day hadn’t registered at all, and now I was back to square one.
Okay, first things first: establish a connection. “Sorry, I forgot your name.”
“Samantha Anderson.”
“Oh, right – Sam.”
“My name is Samantha,” she said, all business-like. “No one calls me Sam.”
I fought the urge to smile. Samantha Anderson was trying so hard to be badass, but she just didn’t have the street cred to pull it off. And even though I needed to tread lightly with this girl, I couldn’t help a little subtle teasing.
