following me. I increase my speed, but I can hear him gaining. His breathing gets louder. He’s getting himself worked up. “You think you’re such a pretty boy. But you won’t be after I beat your face in. You’ll have to come to school with a swollen lip, broken bones and a couple black eyes.”
“Best wait a week then,” I say, my voice oozing with sarcasm. “Beat me up now, and I’ll nurse my wounds at home.”
Opening my car door, I throw my backpack into the passenger seat. Thank you, Principal Bates, for the five-day suspension. My father is furious. I doubt Amy will let me live this down. My mother will be beyond disappointed. Plus, if I let Mike goad me into a fight, I’ll end up expelled. Life as I know it will end. No college will consider taking me. Chances are I’ll end up with some dead-end job at a fast food restaurant during the day. Taking care of Elijah at night. My life will officially suck.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get in trouble for cutting class?” I ask in a sorry attempt to save my skin.
He takes a step forward to invade my space, his face turning red as he cracks his knuckles. Sweat trickles down my forehead. Duvall pulls his fist back, and I duck at the last second.
I hear a clang.
My attacker cradles his fist against his stomach while I rush to get into my car. There’s a dent in the doorframe but hey, the car’s old. I’m just relieved he missed my face. Locking the door, I stick the key in the ignition and rev the engine. Mike shouts obscenities at me through the rear view mirror as I drive off.
12
Katarina
“Need help with that box?” John asks. I recruited him to help me clean out my house after school, to clear some space to walk so I can see the carpet and vacuum.
With dust on my white tank top and a rip in one of my pant legs, I haul the heavy box to the Jeep. “Do I look helpless to you?”
John glances at his watch. “How long ‘til your parents come home?”
I jump from the Jeep and go back for more stuff. “Don’t know. Depends on how long my mother’s psychologist keeps her waiting. My father pulls the strings, you know? And he insists we all have shrinks. You can see how much good it does.”
I gesture around my living room at the dust-covered boxes filled with kitchen appliances, tanning creams, exercise equipment and unopened junk.
John picks up a pizza box with four stale pieces inside. They knock against the cardboard like bricks against a wall.
“How do you plan on doing a project about fire without starting one?”
I shrug. “Mrs. Williams is crazy.”
“She controls your grade,” he says, throwing the pizza box into a plastic trash can overflowing with garbage.
“I’ll talk to my dad. He’ll complain to Mr. Boucher, the president of the school board, who’ll complain to Principal Bates, who’ll tell Mrs. Williams to give us a more reasonable assignment. It’s one small advantage of having a famous father.”
“Only ‘cause your dad knows how to wield his power.”
“You’re telling me.” I rub my forehead with the back of my hand. “He wants me to go to Washington Bible College next year and says he’ll pay all my expenses if I do. When I ask him about going to Virginia Tech, William and Mary or George Mason, he says those places are fine. But if I want to go to any of them, I’ll have to pay for it on my own. So open-minded of him, don’t you think? On the one hand he’s never home. On the other, he wants veto power on all my decisions.”
“So how’s the bet going?” John changes the subject.
I roll my eyes.
“That well, huh? You ready to give Tasha your most prized possession?”
If I hadn’t just picked up a box with a thigh master in it, I’d smack him in the shoulder, mostly because I’m worried he’s right. I must have been crazy to agree to that bet. What makes me think I can tempt a Mormon boy with morals into spending time with a girl whose father is famous for saying nothing but bad stuff
“Best wait a week then,” I say, my voice oozing with sarcasm. “Beat me up now, and I’ll nurse my wounds at home.”
Opening my car door, I throw my backpack into the passenger seat. Thank you, Principal Bates, for the five-day suspension. My father is furious. I doubt Amy will let me live this down. My mother will be beyond disappointed. Plus, if I let Mike goad me into a fight, I’ll end up expelled. Life as I know it will end. No college will consider taking me. Chances are I’ll end up with some dead-end job at a fast food restaurant during the day. Taking care of Elijah at night. My life will officially suck.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get in trouble for cutting class?” I ask in a sorry attempt to save my skin.
He takes a step forward to invade my space, his face turning red as he cracks his knuckles. Sweat trickles down my forehead. Duvall pulls his fist back, and I duck at the last second.
I hear a clang.
My attacker cradles his fist against his stomach while I rush to get into my car. There’s a dent in the doorframe but hey, the car’s old. I’m just relieved he missed my face. Locking the door, I stick the key in the ignition and rev the engine. Mike shouts obscenities at me through the rear view mirror as I drive off.
12
Katarina
“Need help with that box?” John asks. I recruited him to help me clean out my house after school, to clear some space to walk so I can see the carpet and vacuum.
With dust on my white tank top and a rip in one of my pant legs, I haul the heavy box to the Jeep. “Do I look helpless to you?”
John glances at his watch. “How long ‘til your parents come home?”
I jump from the Jeep and go back for more stuff. “Don’t know. Depends on how long my mother’s psychologist keeps her waiting. My father pulls the strings, you know? And he insists we all have shrinks. You can see how much good it does.”
I gesture around my living room at the dust-covered boxes filled with kitchen appliances, tanning creams, exercise equipment and unopened junk.
John picks up a pizza box with four stale pieces inside. They knock against the cardboard like bricks against a wall.
“How do you plan on doing a project about fire without starting one?”
I shrug. “Mrs. Williams is crazy.”
“She controls your grade,” he says, throwing the pizza box into a plastic trash can overflowing with garbage.
“I’ll talk to my dad. He’ll complain to Mr. Boucher, the president of the school board, who’ll complain to Principal Bates, who’ll tell Mrs. Williams to give us a more reasonable assignment. It’s one small advantage of having a famous father.”
“Only ‘cause your dad knows how to wield his power.”
“You’re telling me.” I rub my forehead with the back of my hand. “He wants me to go to Washington Bible College next year and says he’ll pay all my expenses if I do. When I ask him about going to Virginia Tech, William and Mary or George Mason, he says those places are fine. But if I want to go to any of them, I’ll have to pay for it on my own. So open-minded of him, don’t you think? On the one hand he’s never home. On the other, he wants veto power on all my decisions.”
“So how’s the bet going?” John changes the subject.
I roll my eyes.
“That well, huh? You ready to give Tasha your most prized possession?”
If I hadn’t just picked up a box with a thigh master in it, I’d smack him in the shoulder, mostly because I’m worried he’s right. I must have been crazy to agree to that bet. What makes me think I can tempt a Mormon boy with morals into spending time with a girl whose father is famous for saying nothing but bad stuff
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