Chapter Twenty-Two
We Will Rock You
Tuesday, October 4
Caleb stood at his locker ready to bolt for the day when Spriggs approached him, eyes narrowed behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
“Mr. Torrs. I understand you helped Ms. Pennington with her Catcher in the Rye essay, is that correct?”
A flash of apprehension shot up Caleb’s spine as he faced his teacher. “Yeah.” He shrugged, wondering what this was about, then he realized the paper was due yesterday. His stomach knotted with worry for Mandy.
“I’d like you to come with me. I have a few questions for both of you.”
“Now?” Caleb asked as the warning flames increased along his spine.
“Yes, now. Ms. Pennington is waiting in my classroom.” He spun on his heel and stalked away, clearly expecting Caleb to follow.
Crap. This wasn’t good. Maybe he’d been wrong to encourage Mandy to go ahead with her honest reader response. But that was bullshit, because Spriggs shouldn’t penalize her for that. Caleb slammed his locker shut and followed Spriggs to his classroom, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do.
Mandy perched on a desk, her purple dress reminding him of a spring tulip. She tugged nervously at her mom’s necklace, and Caleb wanted to cross the room to her. But he couldn’t. Instead, he stared at her until she met his gaze, defiant and nervous, that crazy combination that did something to his gut. And his heart.
Spriggs moved behind the desk and grabbed the paper, holding it out like it was poisonous. Caleb saw a giant red “B–” circled on the top. Exactly what she needed. He shot her a questioning look, but now she was staring at the floor, biting her lip.
“All right, children,” Spriggs said. “Tell me who really wrote this essay.”
Anger shot through Caleb fast and hot, lighting him up like a missile needing a target.
“I did,” Mandy said, her voice high and quivery.
Damn it. Caleb ground his teeth. She needed to sound tough, confident. She couldn’t give this asshole any more room for doubt.
Spriggs turned his attention to Caleb. “Is this true, Caleb? I know you were…tutoring Ms. Pennington.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t write this for her? Granted it’s not your usual style, but it’s suspiciously coherent.” He studied Mandy through narrowed eyes. “Quite unlike your usual work, Miss Pennington.”
The missile of anger inside of Caleb threatened to ignite. It took every ounce of his self-control not to leap across the desk, but instead he breathed through his nose, fists clenched at his sides. He needed one of Mandy’s stupid mantras but all he came up with was Don’t hurt your teacher.
“I wrote it, Mr. Spriggs,” Mandy said.
She sounded less wobbly now. In fact, she sounded almost as pissed as he felt. He shot her a sideways glance, and she met his gaze. For a long moment their eyes locked in unspoken conversation, and it was almost like their breakup never happened.
Don’t go ballistic, demon.
I won’t if you won’t, Disco.
But I wrote the paper!
I know, babe. But we’ve gotta stay calm.
Mr. Spriggs snapped his fingers in Mandy’s face and Caleb was seconds away from breaking his silent promise to Mandy.
“Prove it,” Spriggs said.
Mandy blinked, refocusing on Spriggs while Caleb reminded himself Spriggs was not a punching bag.
“What?” she asked. “What do you mean, prove it?”
“I’m going to quiz you about the book.” He shot Caleb a warning glare. “And you keep quiet, Mr. Torrs.”
Shit. Caleb wished he could brain dump everything he knew about this book into Mandy’s beautiful, spazzy squirrel brain, because Spriggs would do his damnedest to trip her up.
Mandy tugged at her crab necklace. “Um, okay. I—uh—go ahead. Ask me anything.”
Caleb closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what deity he believed in, but for the first time in a long time he sent up a plea to whoever might be on duty.
…
Mandy’s pulse pounded in her ears. She knew she hadn’t cheated, but with Spriggs challenging her she felt guilty anyway. She glanced at Caleb, shocked to see how worried he looked.
She turned away, because she needed to focus on Spriggs, not Caleb. I can do this. The universe supports truth, justice, and the American way. Wait, what? She shook her head slightly to force herself to focus.
Spriggs leaned against his desk. “In your essay, you took issue with Holden Caulfield’s treatment of women. But how do you justify that statement when he loves his sister so much?”
Relief washed over Mandy. This was the main reason she hated the book, and she could rant about it forever if she had to. She and Caleb had debated it hotly that day in the coffee shop.
“Phoebe was the only female he treated decently!” she exclaimed. “He’s horrible to everyone else. He lies to that mom on the subway, telling her that her son is so popular at school when really everyone hates him. And when he goes to that nightclub and dances with those women from out of town? All he talks about is how ugly and stupid they are!”
Mr. Spriggs’s face pinched with a frown. “One could argue that—” he began, but Mandy cut him off, her confidence quickly overtaking her anxiety.
“And he takes Sally on a date but complains about her the whole time! How her voice sounds, how phony she is, how stupid. He only asks her out because she’s pretty and he wants to, uh, kiss her or whatever. He doesn’t respect her at all.”
“What about the little girl in the park?” Mr. Spriggs snapped.
Mandy frowned, trying to recall the scene. “Oh, when he’s looking for his sister? And he helps the girl with her skates? What, like he deserves a medal for being nice one time?”
She glanced at Caleb, who gave her a thumbs-up, his lips curving into the smirk she loved. God, she wanted to…to…she couldn’t think about what she wanted because now wasn’t the time.
Mr. Spriggs didn’t look happy. “Did you notice any other times he was nice to children?”
Mandy sighed. “Like when he showed those boys the mummies in the museum? Or when he tried to erase the graffiti at Phoebe’s school so the kids wouldn’t be scarred for life by an f-bomb?”
Caleb snorted, and Spriggs shot him a glare.
“And the little boy singing the song, the one the title’s based on.” Mandy was so fired up she wasn’t nervous at all anymore. “I know what you want me to say. That Holden was good to little kids, that they were innocent and he thought he was their protector. That he was still devastated by his brother’s death.”
Spriggs sighed. “So why didn’t you put any of that in your essay?” He shook his head. “So unfocused. An undisciplined mind,” he muttered.
“Because those parts weren’t enough for me to love this stupid book!” She glanced at Caleb again, but this time he frowned, giving her a subtle thumbs-down. “He’s still awful to girls, and he calls gay guys perverts and flits, and he’s so condescending! He thinks everyone who goes to the movies is an idiot! He makes fun of his brother because he’s a screenwriter instead of writing books nobody wants to read, nobody but Holden.”
Spriggs scowled, and Mandy guessed he had his own unfinished great American novel stashed in a drawer somewhere.
“I think you’ve missed most of the point of this novel, Ms. Pennington.”
Mandy felt like her head was about to explode. “Then why did you give me a B minus?”
“Because your response to the book, while wrong, was typical for today’s modern reader, and you did manage to back up your…opinion…with examples from the book.” He brushed imaginary lint from his shirt.
Caleb made a noise that didn’t sound human.
“How can my response be wrong?” Mandy demanded. “How can anything a reader feels when reading a book be wrong? You can’t force people to love a book just because you do!” She whirled on Caleb. “You tried to make me love the book, too, but it didn’t work.”
His head snapped back like she’d slapped him, and she was hit with a stab of guilt. That wasn’t fair, not after all the time he’d spent helping her with her essay. She tugged at her hair and closed her eyes. Breathe. All things work together for good. Even bad things? she wanted to ask the universe, because suddenly things felt really bad—Spriggs questioning her intelligence, and her lashing out at Caleb when he’d shown up to back her up, even though they weren’t…whatever…anymore.
Caleb cleared his throat. “Mandy wrote this paper herself. I just helped her with the structure. But all of the ideas—and they’re solid ideas, by the way—those are hers.” His lips curved in a crooked smile. “Just because she doesn’t like the book doesn’t mean she didn’t get it.”
She stared across the room, her gaze locking with his. She wanted to run to him, jump in his arms, have him twirl around while he kissed her, just like in a movie. But instead she took another breath and mouthed him a silent “thank you” instead. He tilted his head in acknowledgment, but his smile faded as he looked at Spriggs, who was scowling.
Mandy squared her shoulders and faced Spriggs head-on. She’d organized Spirit Week. She’d had a big role in planning the homecoming dance. She’d taken care of gran. She’d done a great job with the little kids at Build-a-Buddy. She could handle a crabby old teacher.
“Okay, so I’m not an honor student, Mr. Spriggs. But I could be, if teachers like you gave me a chance. I read all the time, did you know that? Not the type of books you’d approve of, but still.” Some of them have big words and everything, she thought, but she kept that part inside. She glanced at Caleb, whose eyes sparked—with admiration, she hoped—but she wasn’t sure.
“A lot of people have ADHD—really successful people like Justin Timberlake and Michael Phelps. Will Smith.” She paused, wondering if he was too old to get her references. “Einstein had dysgraphia, just like me.” She shot Caleb a conspiratorial smile and held his gaze, remembering their late night text convos.
The fire of determination built inside her, banked and fueled by Spriggs’s outraged expression. She wasn’t scared. Not anymore, because none of it mattered when you did your best but people still didn’t believe in you. She took a breath, deciding to go for broke.
“Mr. Spriggs—you have to give people a chance. Not just your star students like Caleb.” She glanced at him and was momentarily stunned by the way he looked at her. She cleared her throat. “Give students like me a chance, too. Please. You act like it’s our fault if we can’t process the way you think we should. But our brains don’t all work the same way. And that doesn’t make us wrong. Or…or…lesser than.”
Spriggs blinked, looking momentarily off balance. “I never—”
Caleb stepped away from the wall where he’d been leaning. “I think…” He hesitated, and Mandy watched him run his hand through his hair, his glorious rock star hair that she really, really wanted to touch again. “Look,” he said, “it’s obvious that Mandy wrote this paper, right? She just told you all about the book. She obviously read it, and her opinions are totally valid.”
Mr. Spriggs narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. “Yes.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’m convinced that she read the book.” He glanced at her. “As for the rest of our discussion, I will take it under advisement.”
Mandy glanced at Caleb, who shrugged, then winked, making her heart beat wildly against her rib cage.
“So…I still get a B minus?” she asked.
Mr. Spriggs sniffed. “Yes, Ms. Pennington. You’re cleared for dance team participation. I’m sure the whole school will be delighted to see you at the helm of the pep rally this Friday.”
Caleb shot across the room, grabbing her hand before she realized what was happening. “Thanks, Mr. Spriggs,” he called over his shoulder, tugging Mandy out of the classroom.
She stumbled after him, thrilled at the sparks shooting up her arm from his warm touch. He tugged her down the hallway and into the dusty alcove, the same one where he’d kissed her senseless.
“You did it,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You got a B minus, but even better you stood up to him.” He pulled her in close. “And you didn’t go all shit-storm on him like I would’ve.”
“Firestorm,” she corrected. “You would’ve lit him on fire.”
He grinned down at her, and she held her breath, waiting, her eyes locked on his, her heart beating so fast he must be able to hear it. She watched his expression change, from happy to anxious to…something else. He released her and stepped back.
“Do you need a ride home?” he asked, but he kept glancing at the guys’ restroom, like he had some sort of emergency she didn’t want to know about.
She frowned. “Uh…no. Reg drove today so I can catch a ride with him.” Reg had taken Gran to the doctor this morning, and reported back with a list of to-dos Gran wasn’t happy about. Mandy had been so thrilled that Reg had followed through on his word, she’d ignored Gran’s grumbling voicemail about idiot doctors.
He glanced at her, surprised. “Yeah? Okay, cool.” He took a step back. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, Disco.” Then he turned and rushed across the hall into the restroom.
Okay, that was weird. Totally weird.
Her mind still reeling from the meeting with Spriggs, and the hot and cold way Caleb was acting, Mandy texted her brother.
Be right there. She hesitated, then typed, Got a B– from Spriggs. Off probation.
The universe continued to surprise her.
…