probably. Definitely. “If you say so.” My voice was flat.
“Trust me.” He smiled.
“I guess we can let Mr. D know about our plan after school.” I said hesitantly.
“That’s what I was thinking. We can lock it in and if we have to change it, we can.” He seemed to understand that I had to clear it with my parents first.
The bell rang to signify that we could go back class. So much for choir class today, that period was shot. It was time for the claustrophobic walk back. I was stuck in a paradoxical loop. I didn’t want to stay and walk to class alone, but I didn’t want to walk in such a dense crowd. The thought of it unnerved me.
He started walking but stopped when he noticed I hadn’t moved. “You don’t look so good, Liz. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I was planted against the fence. “I just don’t like walking up the hill with everyone so close together. I always wind up stepping on someone’s foot.” There was truth to that.
“No big deal. It’d still take us forever to get up there. So, we might as well wait and take our time until it isn’t so crowded.” He seemed fine with waiting with me.
When the majority of the crowd had made their way up the hill that connected the main campus to the athletic fields, we started walking to English class. He talked to me about the carnival and different things we could include in our project. Mr. Ludlow hadn’t started class yet since about a quarter of the class still hadn’t arrived back yet from the evacuation.
As each class ended, getting me closer and closer to when I was supposed to sing for Patrick, I got more and more nervous. Why did I agree to it? What if Mr. D heard me? Wait, Patrick said he’d deal with Mr. D, so I’m not going to stress about that. There’s plenty of other things to stress about. What if he thinks I’m awful? I guess, better to find out now than later in front of strangers. That’s how I could rationalize this. I had to. Somehow, otherwise I’d talk myself out of it. But, for some reason, singing in front of a bunch of people seemed easier than in front of one. You didn’t have to look at anyone in particular if there were many of them. But if it was just one person… you had to look at them. Or at least, it was harder to fake looking at them. I felt sick.
* * *
After school, I headed to Mr. D’s room. I was nervous. Just like before, Patrick was already in there talking to Mr. D. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about. I wanted to turn around and leave. But there was the project we needed – okay, wanted – to finish up today.
“Hi, Mr. D.” I felt my voice shake.
“Hi, Liz. How was your day?” Mr. D was always polite.
“Okay.” I looked down and mumbled.
“Only, okay?”
Huh? That answer was always fine with my parents. It got them to leave me alone without offering any information that could get me yelled at or lectured to. It was a safe answer. He wanted more? Leave it to a teacher to want you to expand on your answer. “Well, I hate fire drills. So, that sucked.”
“You are the only student I know that hates fire drills. Hopefully, your day got better from there.”
“The fire drill wasn’t all bad.” Patrick interjected. “Was it?”
“No. It wasn’t.” I conceded. I looked up at Mr. D. “We talked about an idea he had for the Physics in the Real World project.” I glanced over to Patrick. “You told him, right?”
“No. I was waiting for you.” He sat on one of the table tops. “Go ahead.” He rolled his hand in the air, motioning for me to continue.
“No. It was your idea.”
“No. I want you to. Only if it’s an idea you want to do. If not, then don’t worry about it. We’ll think of something else.”
“Will someone tell me?” Mr. D finally interrupted.
Patrick looked at me, waiting. I did want to do it, so I guess I was going to tell Mr. D. I shared the concept behind our project. Mr. D seemed intrigued and excited. We were the first
“Trust me.” He smiled.
“I guess we can let Mr. D know about our plan after school.” I said hesitantly.
“That’s what I was thinking. We can lock it in and if we have to change it, we can.” He seemed to understand that I had to clear it with my parents first.
The bell rang to signify that we could go back class. So much for choir class today, that period was shot. It was time for the claustrophobic walk back. I was stuck in a paradoxical loop. I didn’t want to stay and walk to class alone, but I didn’t want to walk in such a dense crowd. The thought of it unnerved me.
He started walking but stopped when he noticed I hadn’t moved. “You don’t look so good, Liz. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I was planted against the fence. “I just don’t like walking up the hill with everyone so close together. I always wind up stepping on someone’s foot.” There was truth to that.
“No big deal. It’d still take us forever to get up there. So, we might as well wait and take our time until it isn’t so crowded.” He seemed fine with waiting with me.
When the majority of the crowd had made their way up the hill that connected the main campus to the athletic fields, we started walking to English class. He talked to me about the carnival and different things we could include in our project. Mr. Ludlow hadn’t started class yet since about a quarter of the class still hadn’t arrived back yet from the evacuation.
As each class ended, getting me closer and closer to when I was supposed to sing for Patrick, I got more and more nervous. Why did I agree to it? What if Mr. D heard me? Wait, Patrick said he’d deal with Mr. D, so I’m not going to stress about that. There’s plenty of other things to stress about. What if he thinks I’m awful? I guess, better to find out now than later in front of strangers. That’s how I could rationalize this. I had to. Somehow, otherwise I’d talk myself out of it. But, for some reason, singing in front of a bunch of people seemed easier than in front of one. You didn’t have to look at anyone in particular if there were many of them. But if it was just one person… you had to look at them. Or at least, it was harder to fake looking at them. I felt sick.
* * *
After school, I headed to Mr. D’s room. I was nervous. Just like before, Patrick was already in there talking to Mr. D. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about. I wanted to turn around and leave. But there was the project we needed – okay, wanted – to finish up today.
“Hi, Mr. D.” I felt my voice shake.
“Hi, Liz. How was your day?” Mr. D was always polite.
“Okay.” I looked down and mumbled.
“Only, okay?”
Huh? That answer was always fine with my parents. It got them to leave me alone without offering any information that could get me yelled at or lectured to. It was a safe answer. He wanted more? Leave it to a teacher to want you to expand on your answer. “Well, I hate fire drills. So, that sucked.”
“You are the only student I know that hates fire drills. Hopefully, your day got better from there.”
“The fire drill wasn’t all bad.” Patrick interjected. “Was it?”
“No. It wasn’t.” I conceded. I looked up at Mr. D. “We talked about an idea he had for the Physics in the Real World project.” I glanced over to Patrick. “You told him, right?”
“No. I was waiting for you.” He sat on one of the table tops. “Go ahead.” He rolled his hand in the air, motioning for me to continue.
“No. It was your idea.”
“No. I want you to. Only if it’s an idea you want to do. If not, then don’t worry about it. We’ll think of something else.”
“Will someone tell me?” Mr. D finally interrupted.
Patrick looked at me, waiting. I did want to do it, so I guess I was going to tell Mr. D. I shared the concept behind our project. Mr. D seemed intrigued and excited. We were the first
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