And me.
I’m afraid of me.
“Is there a problem here?” Kappel stands a couple of feet away, eyeing us. He’s got a baseball bat in his hand, and I can hear him at home telling the wife, “The trouble isn’t the freshmen. It’s the older ones, once they start working out and hitting those growth spurts. That’s when you gotta protect yourself, no matter what.”
“No problem,” I tell him. “No trouble.”
If I know Kappel like I know Kappel, he’s never going to take this to Principal Wertz, not when one of his best baseball players is involved. I wait to get blamed for it. I’m all set to hear the details of my detention or expulsion, even if I’m the only one bleeding. But then Kappy says, “We’re done here, Finch. You can go.”
I wipe the blood off and smile at Roamer as I walk away.
“Not so fast, Romero,” I hear Kappy bark, and the sound of Roamer groveling almost makes the pain worth it.
I stop at my locker to get my books, and sitting on top of them is what looks like the Hoosier Hill rock. I pick it up, flip it over, and sure enough: Your turn, it says.
“What’s that?” Brenda wants to know. She takes it out of my hand and examines it. “I don’t get it. ‘Your turn’? Your turn for what?”
“It’s a private joke. Only the really sexy, really cool people know what it means.”
She punches my arm. “Then you must have no clue. What happened to your eye?”
“Your boyfriend. Roamer?”
She makes a face. “I never liked him.”
“Really?”
“Shut up. I hope you broke his nose.”
“I’m trying to rise above.”
“Wuss.” She walks with me, chatting away: Are you totally into Violet Markey, like the forever kind or the she’s-interesting-for-right-now kind? What about Suze Haines? Didn’t you used to have a thing for her? What about the three Brianas and those macramé girls? What would you do if Emma Watson fell from the sky right now? Would you even want to feel her up or would you tell her to leave you alone? Do you think my hair would look better purple or blue? Do you think I need to lose weight? Be honest. Do you think any guy will ever have sex with me or love me for who I am?
I answer, “Right,” “I don’t think so,” “Of course,” “You never can tell,” and all the while I’m thinking about Violet Markey, lock picker.
VIOLET
February 2
Mrs. Kresney folds her hands and smiles her too-broad smile. “How are you, Violet?”
“I’m fine, and you?”
“I’m fine. Let’s talk about you. I want to know how you’re feeling.”
“I’m good actually. Better than I’ve been in a long time.”
“Really?” She’s surprised.
“Yes. I’ve even started writing again. And riding in a car.”
“How are you sleeping?”
“Pretty well, I think.”
“Any bad dreams?”
“No.”
“Not even one?”
“Not in a while now.”
For the first time, it’s the truth.
* * *
In Russian lit, Mrs. Mahone assigns us a five-page paper on Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons. She looks at me, and I don’t mention anything about Extenuating Circumstances or not being ready. I copy down the notes like everyone else. Afterward, Ryan says, “Can I talk to you?”
Mrs. Mahone watches as I walk on by her. I give her a wave. “What’s up?” I say to Ryan.
We go out into the hallway and are swept along with the sea of people. Ryan takes my hand so he doesn’t lose me, and I’m like, Oh God. But then there’s a little break in the crowd and he lets go. “Where are you headed next?”
“Lunch.”
We walk together, and Ryan says, “So I just wanted to let you know that I asked Suze out. I thought you should hear it from me before it got all over school.”
“That’s great.” I almost say something about Finch, but then I’m not sure what to say because I don’t know what we are or if we’re anything. “Thanks for telling me. I hope Suze knows what a good guy you are.”
He nods, gives me his signature smile—I can see the dimple—and then says, “I don’t know if you heard, but Roamer went after Finch today in gym.”
“What do you mean ‘went after’?”
“Whatever. Banged him up a little. Roamer’s an asshole.”
“What happened? Like, to them? Did they get expelled?”
“I don’t think so. It was Kappel’s class, and he’s not going to report Roamer and risk losing him for practice. I gotta go.” A few steps away, he turns. “Finch didn’t even try to defend himself. He just stood there and took it.”
In the cafeteria, I walk past my regular table, past Amanda and Roamer and the audience gathered there. I can hear Roamer talking, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.
I walk to the other side of the room, toward a half-empty table, but then behind me I hear my name. Brenda Shank-Kravitz is sitting with the three Brianas and a dark-haired girl named Lara at a round table by the window.
“Hey,” I say. “Do you mind if I join you?” I feel like I’m the new girl again, trying to make friends and figure out where I fit.
Brenda picks up her backpack and sweater and keys and phone and all the other things that are spilled across the table and dumps them onto the floor. I set my tray down and sit next to her.