16. End of the Discussion

The next day Lily shows up late—like half an hour late—and she looks like she had a long night. Not the way my mom might. No, Lily still is a morning shot to the system, but she’s wearing a designer white cap and shades as she strolls in front of the class.

Where’s she going?

I’m sitting where I’ve been sitting, in front of her regular seat across from Harris. But she strolls by us and heads for the other side of the room.

“Well, good morning, Miss Lily,” Mr. Taggart says as he stops whatever rambling nobody was listening to. “Did we interrupt your beauty sleep?”

“We’re all terribly amused,” she says as she sits in a desk near nobody.

All of us look at each other. Harris shrugs and then keeps thumbing his phone.

I look over at her and wait for some kind of glance or nod or anything. I see her head look my way, but I can’t tell if she’s looking at me from behind her sunglasses.

Does it really matter anyway, Chris?

But it does. Because deep down—well, yeah, deep down there’s this crazy little hope.

Mr. Taggart sometimes reads from his notes. We’re covering several subjects, and sometimes he drones on without ever seeing if we’re paying attention, like a machine on an assembly line automatically squirting jelly into jars. But they haven’t been able to make machines that pump information into kids, not yet, so Mr. Taggart is trying his best to correct that reality.

Harris is still texting, and I see Lily working her phone as well. They might be talking. Then again, so is Roger. Shawn is sleeping, his round chubby cheek so soft he’s probably using it as a pillow. I look at Gin/Jen/Linn. She’s listening to Mr. Taggart, making me wonder what she really and truly is doing here. Then there’s Brick, leaning back in his seat and just staring ahead with his mouth open and his eyes fixed on the nothingness of life.

Harris laughs. Then I see him glance over at Lily, who nods.

I gotta get a phone. And service. And connected.

But that would mean I’d need a job. And yeah, I don’t want to go down that road again. Especially now that I can’t even find the blasted road.

During break, Lily doesn’t move from her seat. She’s still got the sunglasses on and still looks like she doesn’t want to be bothered. I head out to use the restroom and then get some air outside.

These hallways have a weird white glow about them, like they could double as the halls for a mental institution. I’ve always assumed it was the strangers inside these halls that caused my mind to grow slowly numb, but now I realize the funky lighting contributed.

As I’m walking out of the restroom, my hands still wet because there were no paper towels to dry them on, I’m heading toward the main doors where the empty cafeteria sits and waits for all the heapings of bad food to be dished out next year.

I’m almost to the door when I see him.

A tall guy in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Walking down the other hallway, away from the front doors and from where our classroom is.

He turns and glances my way, then keeps walking.

I blink because I swear …

No you didn’t just see that.

But half of his face kinda appeared—dark and grisly and gone, like the blond-haired guy at the end of The Dark Knight.

Imagination and boredom, Chris.

The hallway lights on that side of the school are turned off, but he’s still walking over there.

I feel cold. Like an air conditioner suddenly got plugged in and a gust of cold air is blasting over me. I shiver and can’t help it.

A part of me wonders if it has anything to do with the guy I just saw, but …

Knock it off, Chris.

I refuse to spook myself out anymore.

This life isn’t some script from a horror movie. I’m tired of being in that story.

Brick is standing outside with a cigarette and nods to me as I come out.

“Where’s my smoke?” I ask.

“You finally want one?”

I shake my head. “Just kidding. Hey—did you see a tall kid walking by?”

Brick shakes his head.

It’s easy to forget about that kid I saw. I’m sure he was just another Harrington student who needed to come in for some awful reason.

We finish early, since Mr. Taggart is anxious to get home and do nothing, and I wait for Lily to walk out the door. As the others head out of the room, she moves slowly. So do I. Then she moves even slower.

It’s obvious that I’m waiting for her.

“Yes?” she eventually says.

“Everything okay?” I force myself to ask.

“Now why would you think something’s wrong?”

It’s the same tone she used with Mr. Taggart.

That’s not a good thing.

“I just—I don’t know. You’re kinda quiet.”

“Not sitting next to you guys is different from being quiet.”

“Okay. Yeah, I guess so.”

“After you,” she says. “I insist.”

I walk out the door and head down the hallway. She follows from a distance.

I pause and turn around. “Anything I can, uh, do?”

What a stupid question, Chris.

She shakes her head and gives me one of the smiles that an adult gives a child.

You’re not going to find another Jocelyn, so just move on out.

I keep walking and don’t say another word to her. And I think that I’m probably right. Jocelyn was this beautiful girl who I discovered wasn’t just some silent, stuck-up beauty, but much more. There was so much more going on with her.

With her and surrounding her.

But some girls who happen to be hot act like they know it and that’s it. End of the discussion.

As I get on my bike, I see Lily getting in the car with Harris. I wonder how she got here this morning, then realize it’s stupid thinking about someone who’s not thinking about you.