How To Be A Perfect Girl by Mary Williams

said, “In a few
short years you’ll be the school’s leaders, and between now and
then you have to learn what that means.”
    The bell that signaled the end of homeroom
interrupted Miss Stevens; she stopped midsentence and dismissed the
students to retrieve their stuff from their respective rooms and
then head to third period classes. For Val that meant Italian,
which was fortuitous—she wanted to ask Keenan what had happened
last year and since they shared the class it would be the perfect
opportunity.
    Keenan didn’t show up to the next class,
though—Val saved a seat for him beside her, but he never arrived to
occupy it. She wondered where he was, but once they started in on
conjugation tables she gave up on waiting for him and focused on
the class. It was probably best that she wouldn’t spend the whole
period talking—conjugation was a hard skill to learn, especially
conjugation in another language, and it required all of her
attention just to keep up with the rest of the class.
    The next few classes were relatively
uneventful, excluding a minor incident at lunch where one senior
ran through the cafeteria in a banana costume—Val had no idea
why—and was finally tackled by a security guard.
    Val was surprised to find Keenan sitting in
his usual spot in Chemistry; she’d arrived at the conclusion that
he must’ve taken the day off after what Dylan had said.
    “Hey,” Val said concernedly, “Are you
alright?”
    “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” There
was no trace of sadness in Keenan’s voice, and he smiled as he
spoke.
    “Cause of—uh—what Dylan said, and then you
weren’t in Italian class, and I dunno, it just seemed like—“ Val
let the sentence trail off.
    Keenan laughed, “Dylan always says that kind
of stuff—he’s an asshole. As for Italian, Alex and I decided the
homeroom assembly would provide a good cover for a lunch run.”
    “Wait, so I have a question—“ Val said.
    “Yeah?”
    “How old is Alex?”
    “You mean cause he can drive and such?”
Keenan asked; Val nodded. “He’s fifteen—but his dad’s the police
chief, so he can get away with pretty much anything.”
    “Really?”
    “Are you asking about the police chief thing
or the getting away with things thing?”
    “The police chief thing,” Val clarified.
    “Oh, well then yeah, he really is. Or his
dad really is, or whatever. And it’s not like he’s an unsafe
driver.” Val didn’t share the sentiment. “He actually has his
learner’s license too, so I mean technically—“
    “I thought even if you had your learner’s
license you weren’t allowed to take passengers,” Val
interjected.
    “I suppose that—strictly speaking—you’re
right. But it’s a lot more fun being able to go places when I want,
so I don’t concern myself with the details.”
    “It seems like a pretty important detail,”
Val criticized, “What if he got in an accident or something?”
    Keenan shrugged; he started to say something
else, but just then Mr. Phillips finished setting up his experiment
for the day, and they knew from experience that once class had
started Jenny wouldn’t let them talk—she would shush them
repeatedly until they got tired of trying.
    Class finished; Keenan was first out, since
he had nothing to put away. When Val stepped out of the classroom
he waved her over to the alcove where he was standing.
    “Yeah?” Val asked, wondering why he’d waited
for her; normally they would’ve gone their separate ways after
class. Keenan was the type who liked to be free of school as soon
as possible; he wasn’t in any clubs or sports.
    “I think we need to talk,” Keenan said.
    Val nodded, “What happened last year?”
    Keenan looked perplexed, “That’s not what I
meant. I meant we needed to talk about why you were crying when we
ran across you yesterday. It looked like you’d just—like your dog
had just died or something.”
    “Oh—“ Val looked out a nearby window, “Would
you