The vice principal’s office. Miss Bass is at her desk. Mr. Rossi stands against the wall. From a visitor’s chair, Mom is looking like she’s already judged me and hanged me.
I turn out my hands. “What?”
Mom leans in. “His house, Angelyn?”
I lean away. “Nobody died.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Why did you go there?” Miss Bass asks.
I circle a toe on the blond carpet. “No reason.”
Mom snorts. “Can’t leave town without a major crisis.”
“You left her alone, Sherry?” Miss Bass says.
“A day,” Mom says. “Two. She’s not a baby.”
“No. But Angelyn is in need of supervision.”
“She’ll get that, Miss Bass. Don’t worry.”
I look to Mr. Rossi. He turns to Miss Bass.
“Do I really need to be here?”
“Yes,” she says. “We all do.”
“It was my idea.”
Everyone looks at me.
“My dumb idea,” I add. “Mr. Rossi didn’t know.”
“What am I hearing?” Mom says. “You’re taking responsibility?”
I sit straight. “Give me the punishment, Miss Bass.”
“This happened off school grounds,” she says. “I don’t have a punishment for you, Angelyn. I’m still concerned.”
“So am I.” Mom is staring at me. “All right. Tell us what you did.”
What did Jeni say I did?
“Whatever happened, it was all me.”
“Now, just a minute,” Mr. Rossi says. “Angelyn showed up at my house uninvited, and that’s all there is to it.”
Okay. No Mrs. Daly, no kiss, no—
“She spent the night,” Mom says.
Mr. Rossi says, “Yes.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong!” I say. “He wants his son to be all right.”
Mom says, “What?”
Miss Bass says, “I don’t understand.”
Mr. Rossi: “Angelyn, would you just be quiet.”
I’ve got my mouth covered. Too late.
“Some—personal issues came up while she was there,” Mr. Rossi says.
“What personal issues?” Mom’s face is red.
I sink in the chair. “Mr. Rossi means his stuff. Not mine.”
“Uh-huh. And who slept where?”
“Mom!”
“Angelyn slept outside,” Mr. Rossi says.
“What the—hell—is this?” Mom asks.
Miss Bass clears her throat. “Folks, let’s take a moment.”
I can hear Mom breathing.
“Angelyn, how did you find Mr. Rossi’s house?” Miss Bass says.
All I can see is Dolly there, that first time.
Mr. Rossi’s face reads: scared.
“I looked it up in Mom’s school directory,” I say.
“You went in my personal things?” Mom says. “You are such a sneak.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
“And a liar. She never mentioned this.”
Mr. Rossi stands from the wall. “I’d say Angelyn is confused.”
Confused?
Miss Bass checks him. “How do you mean, Mr. Rossi?”
Mom says, “Yeah. I want to hear this.”
“She’s got me down as some kind of father figure,” Mr. Rossi says.
“I do not!”
He looks at me a second. “Or—as something more than that.”
“What more?” Mom asks.
“We’re friends,” I say tightly. “Nothing but friends.”
“I don’t think Angelyn knows the difference,” Mr. Rossi says.
“What difference?” Mom asks.
“Friend. Father. Lover. She’s got the lines blurred.”
“He can’t say that.” Mom looks at Miss Bass. “He can’t say those things!”
I’m staring at my lap.
“Student is all Angelyn should be to you, Mr. Rossi,” Miss Bass says.
“I’m aware of that.”
“Wait a minute!” Mom is loud. “Angelyn isn’t ‘confused.’ She’s done this before.”
I look at her. “I’ve never gone to a teacher’s house before.”
Mom’s face is set. “When Angelyn was twelve years old—”
I stop breathing.
She blinks. “No, thirteen. When Angelyn was thirteen, she and a friend left a party and snuck into a neighbor’s yard with two older boys to use the hot tub.”
I can’t believe her. “Mom! That was a long time ago.”
“You haven’t changed! Not with this stunt.”
“I’m not sure how this is relevant,” Miss Bass says.
“There’s more,” Mom says. “The neighbors spotted the kids. They almost called the police. That would have been perfect. Angelyn was drunk out of her mind. They all were. The boys were seventeen—eighteen. All naked.”
“Don’t tell them that.” My voice cracks.
Mom glances at me. “This is Angelyn. Not confused. This is how she is.”
Struck speechless, I can’t raise my eyes. The silence goes on.
“Mr. Rossi,” Miss Bass says, “how do you feel about Angelyn remaining in your class?”
I peek at Mr. Rossi. He’s staring at Mom.
“It’s my best class.” I force the words.
“Where would she go instead?” Mom says, shifting.
“We want a solution that fits everyone,” Miss Bass says.
“Dumping her out of class is no solution,” Mom says. “How would she make up the credit?”
“We’re into second quarter,” Mr. Rossi says. “It would be tough. I guess she’d have to retake at some point.”
“Mr. Rossi, please.” I try to think. “I won’t go to your house again. I promise.”
“Angelyn has to know there are lines you do not cross.” He’s saying it to me.
“I do know that!” I say. “Really. I do.”
“I’ll keep my foot on her,” Mom says. “Count on it. And you, Mr. Rossi—you keep your distance.”
Miss Bass looks at him. “Well?”
Mr. Rossi waits. “I’m okay with Angelyn in class.”
Miss Bass nods. She thanks us. Bruised, I stand with Mom.
Miss Bass tells Mr. Rossi to stay.
Outside, Mom throws me questions and directions. I don’t listen.
My first two classes don’t register. All I can think about is seeing him.
Mr. Rossi is behind his newspaper when I come in.
I walk to his desk. “Are you okay?”
He lowers the paper an inch. “Angelyn, take your seat.”
Jeni isn’t here yet. About ten kids in the room.
“I want to change seats. Is that all right?”
“Sit down.” Mr. Rossi’s voice is firm and final.
Shakily, I sit.
Jacey and Charity walk in. Jacey catches my eye and smiles.
Nerves pinballing, I look away.
One row over, people talk about Homecoming. I can’t tell if it’s already happened or hasn’t yet. Someone mentions a reality show, and everybody laughs. I jerk at the sound and hope no one has seen.
In singles, pairs, and bunches, kids roll into class. None of them are Jeni.
“Mr. Rossi! I don’t want to sit here anymore. Not by her.”
His newspaper crackles. He flips a page.
I point across to the first row, the second desk empty all year.
“Can I sit there?”
The paper stays in place, Mr. Rossi’s fingers pulling it taut.
Jacey waves. “Angelyn!” She points to my old desk in front of Charity.
“I don’t think so,” I say.
Everyone is listening. Watching. Everyone but him.
“Come back to us,” Jacey says. “We want you with us. Don’t we, Charity?”
Charity thumps a boot against the book rack on my desk. “Yeah. We do.”
She doesn’t mean it.
I look at Jeni’s empty desk and the row across the room lined with kids I never talk to.
“All right,” I say to Jacey. To Charity. I feel my mouth turn down.
Charity leans up as I slide in. “You’re fighting with that girl?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Hate her.”
“Awesome! Why?”
“Because she’s a fucking snitch.” I say it clearly.
Mr. Rossi lowers the newspaper. He stares at me.
The bell rings.
“Get out your homework,” he says.
“I couldn’t do it,” I say by his desk. “I didn’t have a book.”
Mr. Rossi erases the board. “No homework, you take a zero.”
The door shuts behind the last one out. We’re alone.
“You saw how I was this weekend. My mom took all my school stuff.”
Mr. Rossi walks to the door and props it open.
“I gave you my answer,” he says.
“I still don’t have my book. Will you loan me one so I can keep up?”
He keeps a hand on the door. “Share with a friend.”
“I don’t have friends in this class.” My voice is hard.
“I can’t help you,” Mr. Rossi says.
I point to the bookcase by the board. “I see some extras there.”
“Stop it,” he says.
“Mr. Rossi, you’re acting like you’re mad at me.”
A shake of his head, he looks to the hallway.
“Is it—” I swallow. “Is it because of what my mom said about me?”
Mr. Rossi looks back to me. “No, Angelyn.”
“Okay.” I breathe out. “I’m not pissed at you. I know you had to say those things about me in Miss B’s office.”
“I meant them,” Mr. Rossi says.
“You were covering up.”
“I was not covering up.”
“We covered for each other,” I say.
He checks outside again. “We can’t talk like this. We can’t talk at all.”
“I’m sorry I mentioned your son. I don’t think they noticed much.”
Mr. Rossi shuts his eyes. “I have to treat you like any student. You have to be like any student.”
“I am like any student.” I lean against his desk. “I want to be.”
“If you don’t do your homework, you take a zero. You lose a book, you find it or pay for it. I don’t help you outside class. You’re the student, I’m the teacher, and that’s how we get along.”
I blink through his speech. “Miss Bass told you to say all that.”
“She warned me. She was right.”
“Warned you. Like I’m—hazardous to your health or something.”
“You are,” Mr. Rossi says. “You could be. You know that. You’re not dumb.”
“Didn’t I look out for you in there? Didn’t I not say anything about Dolly? She’s a secret between us and I kept it!”
“That’s enough.” He’s so quiet.
“You were right about Jeni.” I force a laugh. “I told her off. I scared her out of class today.”
“Did you mean anything you said in that office? About how things were your fault, and they wouldn’t happen again?”
“My fault,” I say slowly. “I won’t go to your house again. But we can still talk. Can’t we? We’re still friends.”
“I don’t know how many ways to say this, Angelyn. Stay away from me.”
“Oh.” I’m standing.
“For both of us,” he says. “I could lose my job. Do you want to be pulled from this class?”
I make it to the door. “What did you keep me here for anyway?”
“Because you’re a student,” Mr. Rossi says. “You deserve another chance. Don’t make me sorry I did.”
A girl walks in. She walks between us. Glasses, blond hair.
He straightens. “Hey, Courtney. Angelyn, time to get going.”
“The Coast Guard,” I say. “What about that?”
“What about it?” he says in the tiredest voice ever.
“You said we’d talk about it. You promised, and it hasn’t happened yet.”
The girl is staring. She hasn’t even sat.
“You can find that information on the Net,” Mr. Rossi says.
Finally, I understand.
“Everything’s over. Because Jeni couldn’t keep her stupid mouth shut.”
More people come in. I push through them.
Mr. Rossi doesn’t call me back.
Steve’s heart beats against my back. His legs curve around mine.
Charity sits at the other end of the truck. “Did Rossi change the grade?”
Our hands twine. “No,” I say.
“He was treating you mean,” she says.
Steve puts his face by mine. “What did Rossi do?”
“I needed a book and he wouldn’t lend me one. He said, Go buy it.”
“Sounds like him. Charity, lend her yours.”
Her face gets pink. “I don’t have mine today.”
“Sure you don’t,” I say. And tilt my head to Steve.
We kiss, scraping cheeks.
“Like we never stopped,” he says.
I curl into him. “Yeah.”
“I’ll get that book for you,” Steve says. “Jacey’s got to have one.”
“Never mind. I’m done working for Rossi.”
He stands so fast his knee clunks my head.
“Ow!” I look up. “What are you doing?”
Sprawled across the cab, Steve shouts for JT and Jacey.
I pull up my knees and rub my head.
“He told us to let you back in,” Charity says.
I make a face. Not surprised. Not really.
“You’re so lucky. Everyone comes to you.”
“Sitting here,” I say, “you might see it different.”
Charity looks at Steve. “No, I wouldn’t.”
Jacey and JT come to the truck. Steve asks about the book.
“Angelyn can have mine,” Jacey says.
Steve squats beside me. “Problem solved.”
I lift my lips. “Thanks.”
“Yep,” Charity says. “Angelyn always gets what she wants.”
Steve nudges me. “Well, who wouldn’t give it to her?”
“I know a couple of people,” I say.
JT and Jacey pile in.
“The reservoir tomorrow for lunch?” JT says.
Steve says, “You know it.”
I look around. “All of us?”
JT laughs in Charity’s direction. “She’s not comin’.”
Jacey says, “Aww,” like he’s kicked a puppy.
“What’d that girl snitch about, Angelyn?” Charity’s voice is ragged.
“What girl?” Steve asks.
“Nothing.” I sit forward. “No one. I’m taking care of it.”
“Wait, the one that was watching us this morning?”
“Angelyn’s girlfriend,” Charity says. “But they broke up.”
“Shut up,” I say.
“Why didn’t she come to class?” Jacey asks. “I mean, if she was here.”
“She knew better than to come,” I say.
Charity grins. “Did you break her heart, Angelyn?”
“Girl drama,” Steve says when I don’t answer that one.
JT stretches. “Never know what Angelyn’s up to or who she’s doing.”
I look at him. “What?”
Jacey slaps his chest. “Be nice!”
JT catches her hand. “Just playing.”
I turn to Steve. “That’s okay with you?”
He shifts. “Hey, man—JT. C’mon.”
I wait for more. Nothing comes.
“I’m not going to the reservoir with anyone but you,” I say.
Steve smiles. “Sweet.”
I face away.
He spiders his fingers on my back. “Hey.”
“Don’t,” I say.
His fingers tickle. I roll my shoulders. Steve starts a massage.
The truck is like a rowboat, sunk with all of us.
“Hey, Angelyn,” Charity says.
I screw my face shut. “I am not hearing it.”
“Oh, but you’ll want to hear this. Here comes your girlfriend.”