| |
––––––––
Monday morning, I sat quietly in Mrs.Gable’s language class. Heather walked into the classroom with a frown on her face. I looked up at her; she had her books clinched tightly in her arms. “What are you looking at?” Heather stormed.
“Nothing,” I said, before turning to look straight towards the front of the class.
After Heather sat down, I noticed Todd leaning forward to whisper something in her ear. She must not have liked what he said because she even gave him a dirty look, too. Normally she always smiled around him.
“Stef,” Robin said, tapping me on the shoulder from behind me, where she sat. “Did you hear the news?”
“What news?” I asked.
“All right, class. Let’s all settle down. Turn to page eleven in your books,” Mrs. Gable instructed, as she wrote on the chalkboard.
“I’ll tell you later,” Robin whispered.
I couldn’t help wondering why Robin was so excited. Now I was curious. I tore off a little piece of paper and wrote, What’s up?
Carefully, I folded the paper into four and waited for Mrs. Gable to turn around before I passed Robin the note. As Mrs. Gable wrote down the difference between a noun and a pronoun, I slipped the note onto Robin’s desk.
A little while later, Robin dropped a piece of paper over my shoulder. I felt the piece of paper fall on my arm, before landing on the floor. Quickly, I covered it with my shoe. Mrs. Gable walked between the rows of seats, checking on us as we did our assignment. My heart began to pound as she passed by our desk.
I prayed silently, hoping she didn’t see Robin pass me the note. While the teacher walked by my desk, I pretended to be busy writing. “Are you having a problem with the assignment Ms. Pixley?” Mrs. Gable asked me.
“No, ma’am,” I said as I looked up at her, my eyes as wide as saucers. I hope that she couldn’t tell how nervous I was.
“Okay. If you have a problem, raise your hand, and I’ll come back and help you,” Mrs. Gable said.
I nodded my head yes in response. Sighing, I bent over to pick up the note when Mrs. Gable was near the front of the class. When I opened it, I found only one short sentence scribbled on the piece of paper. It read, I’ll tell you later.
I went through all of that to find out nothing. I could have really gotten in trouble if the teacher caught us passing notes in class. Folding the note up, I tucked it in the front pocket of my jeans. Now I really was curious.
The bell sounded, alerting us that class was over. Hurrying, I grabbed my books and took hold of Robin’s arm, practically dragging her out of class.
“Hold on,” Robin hollered.
“We don’t have long before our next class, I want to know what’s going on,” I told her, rolling my eyes impatiently.
“All I know is, Heather’s not so cool anymore. I heard she had to return all of her new clothes,” Robin exclaimed, excited to share her gossip.
“She had to return her new school clothes?” I asked in disbelief. Robin nodded her head. I couldn’t believe it was true. “Why did she have to return her clothes?”
“I don’t know. I overheard Jamie and Rachael talking. Apparently they’re not sharing a locker with Heather anymore either. It’s like they don’t want anything to do with her now,” Robin said.
“Poor Heather,” I said. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.
“Poor Heather? What do you mean poor Heather?” Robin shrieked. “She deserves it for the way she always treats us.”
“I don’t know. She may be mean sometimes, but it doesn’t mean we should wish for bad things to happen to her,” I told Robin.
“Maybe not, but sometimes it’s nice when people get a little bit of what they dish out served back to them,” Robin said as we walked into Ms. Daugherty’s math class.
After I sat down, I glanced across the aisle to where Heather sat. She was sitting quietly, doodling in a notebook. Usually, Jamie turned around in her seat to talk to Heather, but today Jamie was talking to Amanda. Heather didn’t look very happy. I wondered what was wrong?
That question bothered me all day. I heard bits and pieces of things people were saying. It wasn’t until lunchtime that I had a chance to find out what happened. Carrying my tray, I sat down at the table Darla reserved for us. She normally made it through line before me, so she saved a spot for me every day.
“Have you heard what happened?” I asked Darla as I set my tray down on the table.
“You mean with Heather?” Darla asked.
“Yeah. Do you know what’s going on?” I pulled out my chair, sat down and started nibbling on french-fries, while I waited for her to tell me what she knew.
“Apparently her dad lost his job months ago. He thought he would have found a new one by now, but he didn’t. He gave Heather the charge card for emergency purchases. She got carried away and spent too much so her dad made her return the stuff she bought,” Darla said.
Picking up her cheese pizza, Darla took a bite. “This is cold. Yuck. I hate school food.”
“You mean she doesn’t get any school clothes?” I said, still shocked by the news.
“Oh, her dad bought her some things for school. They just didn’t cost as much. I heard her parents are looking at that house for sale up the street from you,” Darla told me.
“So. What’s wrong with that?” I asked.
“Get real. Have you ever seen the subdivision where she lives?” asked Darla.
“No.”
“My dad says that’s the kind of neighborhood doctors and lawyers live in. It takes big bucks to live there,” Darla said, stressing the big bucks.
Darla’s house was a little nicer than ours was. I never really thought about it before. I guess it never mattered much. Our house was nice. At least that’s what I thought. Heather moving into my neighborhood couldn’t be that bad. Could it?