has a hand on his back for support and they’re moving pretty slowly.
I guess my day wasn’t so bad.
Friday
It’s St. Valentine’s Day. A lot of people are wearing pink or red and the cafeteria food is themed today. Spaghetti and garlic bread, red Jell-O or chocolate cake for dessert, and fish sticks dyed with red food coloring. The latter turn everybody’s lips scarlet and Paige tries unsuccessfuly to cover hers with lip gloss.
In Social Studies, Mrs. Hudson has a pot of mini-roses on the front lab table. Jem tells me happy Valentine’s Day as I take my seat. That’s the first friendly thing he’s said all week.
“Nice hat.” It’s red, of course. I didn’t figure him as the type to dress according to holiday, especially a mushy holiday.
We’re copying overhead transparencies about the food pyramid today. It’s silent work and it doesn’t take long for note passing to start.
Who’s your imaginary boyfriend today? Harper writes on the torn corner of his page. I can see him smirking out of the corner of my eye.
You’re in a good mood today, I write back.
He hesitates before writing: Who would be unhappy on a holiday that involves excessive amounts of sugar consumption?
Because junk food is what you need. Don’t you ever get tired of puking?
All the time, he writes.
You’re in remission?
Yeah.
How long?
I see Jem tap his fingertips on the lab table one after the other. He’s counting.
Forty-nine days.
Damn. That’s barely longer than I’ve been back in Smiths Falls.
Jem: February 14 to 22
Friday
Basketball season is almost over, but the boys’ and girls’ varsity teams are holding an exhibition game in the gym as part of a fundraiser. I’m not sure what it’s for—I didn’t read the posters—but I guess the proceeds are going to whichever disease, natural disaster, or impoverished country they’ve chosen to take pity on.
During lunch period the basketball teams put on their uniforms and set up a ticket/donations table in the lunchroom. I get to the cafeteria just in time to see Elise being canvassed by one of the seniors she was openly ogling the other day. I hope it isn’t too late for her to avoid embarrassing herself.
I head over to the fundraiser table to save Elise from herself. I don’t know the guy she’s talking to, but he’s really tall, which makes her seem even shorter and me feel more protective of her. I watch them exchange money for game tickets and kick myself. If she doesn’t embarrass herself here, she will at that game.
“Hang onto the stubs, ‘cause the girls’ team is holding a draw for door prizes. Doors open at six-thirty, game starts at seven.” Elise nods along with wide-eyed wonder like he’s telling her the secrets of the universe. He politely pretends not to notice her stare. “Yeah, so, we’re selling tickets at the door, too, so bring your family, friends… girlfriend?”
Elise’s intense smile disappears. I push past Chris shit-for-brains Elwood and try to grab Elise’s arm, but she darts away before I can. The basketball player looks a little horrified, watching her run away in tears.
“Dude,” is all I can say to him. I turn to follow Elise. She has a good head start, and I hope she hasn’t gone into the girls’ bathroom or some other place where I can’t get to her.
Her ego is going to be bruised for weeks. If that guy she likes thinks she’s gay, there’s no way he’s interested in her, and Elise isn’t going to take that well. And that stereotyping jerk had to blurt out his assumption in front of a group of people—I can already hear what uncreative taunts they’ll have for her by Monday morning, and it’s not like her hair will grow to out by then. I’m sure that’s why he thought she was a lesbian. Why else would a girl have such short hair, right?
I feel even worse because it’s my fault her hair is short to begin with. She collected sponsorships to shave her head last fall and donated the
I guess my day wasn’t so bad.
Friday
It’s St. Valentine’s Day. A lot of people are wearing pink or red and the cafeteria food is themed today. Spaghetti and garlic bread, red Jell-O or chocolate cake for dessert, and fish sticks dyed with red food coloring. The latter turn everybody’s lips scarlet and Paige tries unsuccessfuly to cover hers with lip gloss.
In Social Studies, Mrs. Hudson has a pot of mini-roses on the front lab table. Jem tells me happy Valentine’s Day as I take my seat. That’s the first friendly thing he’s said all week.
“Nice hat.” It’s red, of course. I didn’t figure him as the type to dress according to holiday, especially a mushy holiday.
We’re copying overhead transparencies about the food pyramid today. It’s silent work and it doesn’t take long for note passing to start.
Who’s your imaginary boyfriend today? Harper writes on the torn corner of his page. I can see him smirking out of the corner of my eye.
You’re in a good mood today, I write back.
He hesitates before writing: Who would be unhappy on a holiday that involves excessive amounts of sugar consumption?
Because junk food is what you need. Don’t you ever get tired of puking?
All the time, he writes.
You’re in remission?
Yeah.
How long?
I see Jem tap his fingertips on the lab table one after the other. He’s counting.
Forty-nine days.
Damn. That’s barely longer than I’ve been back in Smiths Falls.
Jem: February 14 to 22
Friday
Basketball season is almost over, but the boys’ and girls’ varsity teams are holding an exhibition game in the gym as part of a fundraiser. I’m not sure what it’s for—I didn’t read the posters—but I guess the proceeds are going to whichever disease, natural disaster, or impoverished country they’ve chosen to take pity on.
During lunch period the basketball teams put on their uniforms and set up a ticket/donations table in the lunchroom. I get to the cafeteria just in time to see Elise being canvassed by one of the seniors she was openly ogling the other day. I hope it isn’t too late for her to avoid embarrassing herself.
I head over to the fundraiser table to save Elise from herself. I don’t know the guy she’s talking to, but he’s really tall, which makes her seem even shorter and me feel more protective of her. I watch them exchange money for game tickets and kick myself. If she doesn’t embarrass herself here, she will at that game.
“Hang onto the stubs, ‘cause the girls’ team is holding a draw for door prizes. Doors open at six-thirty, game starts at seven.” Elise nods along with wide-eyed wonder like he’s telling her the secrets of the universe. He politely pretends not to notice her stare. “Yeah, so, we’re selling tickets at the door, too, so bring your family, friends… girlfriend?”
Elise’s intense smile disappears. I push past Chris shit-for-brains Elwood and try to grab Elise’s arm, but she darts away before I can. The basketball player looks a little horrified, watching her run away in tears.
“Dude,” is all I can say to him. I turn to follow Elise. She has a good head start, and I hope she hasn’t gone into the girls’ bathroom or some other place where I can’t get to her.
Her ego is going to be bruised for weeks. If that guy she likes thinks she’s gay, there’s no way he’s interested in her, and Elise isn’t going to take that well. And that stereotyping jerk had to blurt out his assumption in front of a group of people—I can already hear what uncreative taunts they’ll have for her by Monday morning, and it’s not like her hair will grow to out by then. I’m sure that’s why he thought she was a lesbian. Why else would a girl have such short hair, right?
I feel even worse because it’s my fault her hair is short to begin with. She collected sponsorships to shave her head last fall and donated the
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