Wednesday Morning: April 13th
Gin picked me up in his Jeep Wrangler before school, and we dropped Maggie off at the Richland School for the Deaf on our way. Gin turned up the volume and the bass on his stereo for my sister so she could feel the music pulsate through the seats.
Gin signed Geocaching next weekend? to Maggie as I waved goodbye to her. She signed yes to Gin and gave me a quick wave before disappearing into a mass of her classmates heading inside. She took a couple quick steps and caught up with a girl with a long braid down her back. Maggie had just left us, but she was already back into her own element. Her safe, supportive world.
“Have you heard from anyone?” I asked after Gin turned the music volume back down to a conversational level. I glanced down at my phone. My last text was a “What’s up” to Paisley fifteen minutes ago, but I hadn’t heard back. Hopefully she wasn’t still dwelling on whether Sarah hated her or not. The bazillion texts she’d already sent about it were obnoxious.
“Benji texted before I left home and asked if we have a Robotics Club meeting at lunch.”
“Exciting.”
“I told him no, but I do have one for the Speech and Debate Team.”
“I have other plans for lunch, anyways,” I said. “I’m meeting with the detention club.”
“What’d you do this time?”
“Ms. Erickson doesn’t have a sense of humor. She doesn’t appreciate jokes about who in our class deserves scarlet letters.”
Gin shook his head, and then reached over and patted my knee. “That’s my girl.”
“You’re lucky she doesn’t teach the smart kids, so you don’t have to deal with her.”
“You should have taken AP English with me. You could have terrorized an entirely different group of people,” Gin said.
“Eh, I’ve heard enough about that from my dad.”
Gin suddenly slammed on the brakes and honked. A quick glance showed Gin’s clenched jaw. He shifted gears like he was angry, jamming the stick into fourth gear as he sped on the highway, passing a car that was probably going under the speed limit. If it wasn’t, Gin was definitely driving like he was auditioning for the Indianapolis 500.
My phone buzzed. Emma from my English class: Is it true?
What true?
You haven’t heard it? Must just be a rumor.
Whatever.
I glanced again at Gin. I’d figure out a way to do something nice for Marisa since anyone who lived in such a boring house and was in love with the Veg clearly needed a little something special in her life. Maybe I could convince Paisley we should take Marisa out for coffee, although the thought of having to listen to her warble on-and-on about mundane nothings made me want to punch the Jeep’s glove compartment harder than I’d punched Sarah just a few days ago. Was I really going to invite a wet dishrag like Marisa out for coffee?
The parking lot at school was almost full, and Gin pulled into a spot in the back. We grabbed our bags out of the far back of the Jeep, where they’d been wedged up against the door, and strode along in silence.
Gin put his arm around my shoulders as we approached the front door, making me feel like his security blanket.
Or teddy bear.
“Doesn’t everything just feel weird to you?” Gin leaned down and murmured into my ear.
I glanced around the front hall of the school. Usually there was a crowd of people hanging out by the inside benches, joking around. But there were only two girls there today, and they were hugging. But it was a desperate, clinging-to-each-other hug, not a “Phhh that A on the math test rocked!” or “Squee! I’m getting pizza on Saturday with Jimbo and all of his friends but I know this means he thinks I’m his one-and-only. ’Cause I rock but I’m going to obsess over what I wear, and how I fix my hair, and ever nuance of the situation from now until I get really old, like thirty.”
Something happened, and it had to be bigger than girl #1 on the bench’s parents getting divorced, given the look of devastation on her face.
“Please go to your first classrooms,” Principal Jeffries stood with his arms folded over his chest like a sentry overseeing the front hallway. No smile. Not even a small one.
“But the first bell hasn’t rung,” I said.
“No, it hasn’t. But we’re asking everyone to go to their classrooms as soon as they arrive. No lingering in the halls.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Go now, Ms. Jacobs and Mr. Nabb.”
“What about those two?” I said, pointing to the girls on the bench, but Gin was already pulling me away.
“Choose your battles.” His voice was grim.
“I’m letting you pull me for the next thirty seconds.”
Gin sighed and let go of me. “I know you’re not fighting back. But whatever’s going on, do you really think arguing is going to help? Especially for no reason?”
I straightened my dark red sweater. “You’re right. But we haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Come on, let’s head to Web Design. The sooner we find out what’s going on, the better. I have a bad feeling about this.” Gin led the way down the hall, and I followed.
***
“What’s going on?” I asked the girl next to me as we sat down in Web Design, also known as the only class Gin and I took together this semester since he’d taken a math class at the community college over the summer and was now a level ahead.
The corner of her mouth quirked up when she turned to me. “Someone claimed that one of our classmates OD’d or something.”
“Weird.” I glanced down to the pocket hiding my phone from the world. Paisley still hadn’t responded. But Paisley was way too smart to do something stupid like overdose, so I was worrying over nothing. The heavy feeling in the air was just getting to me as everyone whispered among the rows of computers. I pulled my notebook and voice recorder from my backpack, feeling like I was the only person moving in the otherwise still room.
None of the computers were on, and as I reached forward to turn on the monitor, Ms. Gray spoke from her desk in the front of the room.
“Please leave the computers off, class.”
“Why?” I asked.
“One, because I asked,” Ms. Gray said. But her face softened into a half-smile, telling me she wasn’t angry with me. “Two, because we’re not using them today.”
“Why not?” Someone from behind me asked.
“I have an announcement, but I need to wait for everyone to get here.”
Gin’s hand snaked out and clasped mine. I glanced at him. Raised my eyebrows. He shrugged. “What could have happened?” he whispered.
I shrugged, feeling the sense of oddness that permeated the air. Everyone was tense, including Ms. Gray. And normally she was the most chilled-out of any of my teachers. The one most likely to goof off with us. She loved to take a mean comment and spin it around on the sayer, and make a joke. But when she did it, it didn’t feel mean in return, just thought-provoking. She’d made me laugh at my own stupid statements before.
I realized something. I actually liked Ms. Gray. One of the few teachers I actually wanted to see at school. If something was bothering her, it must be serious. All of my body felt tense, even my metallic-blue toenails.
Gin’s thumb stroked a circle on the back of my hand, and I wanted to yank it from his grasp. His touch felt cloying. I wanted to feel free. To be ready to face whatever was coming with both hands ready to fight back.
But I let Gin hold my hand. He clearly needed some comfort. An anchor in chaos. And, for once, chaos that I hadn’t orchestrated. A heavy feeling glued me into my seat, especially when Ms. Gray glanced my way again. She didn’t have any of her usual sparkle.
A few more people trickled in before the bell rang. Ms. Gray stood up from her desk, and walked around it to face us. Her face was all straight lines; thin mouth. Level eyes hidden behind clunky purple eyeglass frames.
“I have some sad news for all of you,” she said, scanning the room with her eyes. “It’s about one of your classmates. Please know that I’m here for you, as are the guidance counselors and other teachers. You’re not alone.”
Someone spoke up. I realized it was me. “What happened?”
Gin squeezed my hand tighter, like he knew what was coming. Could it be Paisley? She was always glued to her phone.
“One of your classmates overdosed last night in her bedroom. It might have been suicide, or just a tragic, tragic accident.”
My unanswered texts to Paisley flashed through my mind and I gripped Gin’s hand as hard as he’d grabbed mine.
“Did she make it? Is she in the hospital?” I asked. Paisley’s sea-blue eyes laughing at a joke flashed through my mind. Why would she harm herself? If I was going to describe anyone I knew as a ray of happiness, it’d be Paisley. She practically pooped sunshine and rainbows. She was too smart for a stupid accident, plus, we’d all been sober last night. No alcohol or pills in sight.
“Sadly, no. She was found too late.” Ms. Gray leaned back against her desk.
“Who is it?” a male voice asked from the back of the room.
“Sarah Dietz,” Ms. Gray said, and my gaze snapped up at her.
“Sarah? No way that bitch killed herself. She loves herself too much.” My body froze when I realized I’d spoken out loud.
“Sorry!” I added. But I knew the words were too late. Ms. Gray was staring at me, and she didn’t twist my words around into a comeback that made me laugh at myself.
“Ms. Jacobs,” she said. Ms. Jacobs. Not Harper. Shit, she was really mad. “Go to the office. Tell the principal what you said.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I threw in the title of respect as an apology. I pulled my hand out of Gin’s and picked up my bag.
“You don’t always have to say what you think,” Gin said.
“Didn’t mean to,” I said, and walked out of the door with my head high. But the pit of my stomach wanted to puke.