The Impossible Knife of Memory(65)

The desire to ram my cart into her gut and push her through the glass door into the freezer made my hands sweat. But if I did, she might see it as a “cry for help” and then she’d never leave us alone.

“The truth is, I hate you,” I said.





_*_ 67 _*_

The first snowstorm of the year (eight inches) that hit late on Thursday night should have canceled school, but all we got was an hour delay because the superintendent didn’t care if we died fiery deaths in chain-reaction pileups. Finn’s tires sucked but since his mom was home sick, he drove us to school in her ten-year-old Nissan. If she sold it, she’d be lucky to get enough to pay for half a day of rehab. The smell of her hair spray made me wonder if I was ever going to meet her. I shoved that question to the back of my mind and buried it under the mountains of junk stored there.

Topher and Gracie pulled in next to us. We fell into the migratory flight path of students converging from all corners of the parking into a reluctant line that led inside the building.

“Why are they wearing shorts?” I asked, pointing to a group of guys walking ahead of us. “It’s barely twenty degrees out.”

“Baseball,” Topher said cryptically.

“The team wears shorts all winter,” Gracie explained.

“It’s like a badge of honor, proves they’re tough.” “Look at the leg hair!” I said. “Are they all related to

bears?”

A snowball skirmish opened up by the flagpole. We

ducked and ran for the door.

“If they were really tough,” I continued, “they’d shave

their legs every day and then wear shorts.”

“Exactly!” Gracie said.

“If they did, maybe girls like that,” I pointed to the girl

in front of us, who was wearing fake Uggs, a pink miniskirt, and a tight black sweater, “could grow out their leg

hair to stay warm, and another gender inequity would be

balanced, right?”

“Hmmm,” Finn answered, mesmerized by the twitching miniskirt.

Fake-Uggs Naked-Legs Girl slowed down and looked

back at Finn over her shoulder like she had testosterone

radar.

“Did you hear me?” I asked him.

“His other head is doing the thinking right now,” Topher said.

“That’s gross,” Gracie said.

Fake-Uggs Naked-Legs Girl winked at Finn. Before I

could growl or rip her face off, she disappeared inside the

building.

“She’ll get frostbite, you know,” I told him as we walked through the doors. “Frostbite so bad they’ll have to amputate her legs and big hunks of her butt. Then she’ll die of despair, all because she forgot to wear pants on a day when

it was fifteen degrees outside.”

“Guess that means you’re stuck with me,” he said, stopping in the middle of the crowd. “Cleveland asked me to

stop by his room before first period.”

Before I could answer, Ms. Benedetti appeared out of

nowhere and wrapped her cold fingers around my arm. “I need you in my office, right now,” she said. Finn gave me a quick salute and melted away in the

crowd.

“What if I say no?” I asked Benedetti.

“I’ll follow you,” she said with an unnerving smile. “I

have all day.”

We both pushed against the wall as a group of impossibly pretty girls strode past, bare-legged and acting like it

was eighty degrees outside.

Benedetti tapped my shoulder. “My office.”

“I’m claustrophobic,” I said. “It’s too small in there.” The bell rang.

“Follow me,” she said.

The auditorium was cool and damp as a cave. Dark, too, with just a few of the wall lights turned on. I followed Benedetti down the aisle and across a row to the dead center of the room.

“Is Finn in trouble because the newspaper isn’t done yet?”

“We need to talk about you,” she said as she sat. “Will this work? I imagine it’s hard to feel claustrophobic here.”

“You’re real funny.” I left an empty seat between us. “Am I suspended after all? Is that what this is about?”

She shook her head. “No, but that little altercation gave me another chance to talk to your dad. Did he tell you? I bugged him again about joining us for the Veterans Day assembly.”

I tried to think of something witty, but it was too early in the morning and I was freezing. “Not a word.”

“I also told him that you didn’t take the SAT.”

I shrugged. “What did he say?”

“That he’d discuss it with you.”

“His schedule is kind of booked right now.”

“Why haven’t you asked any of your teachers for recommendation letters?”

“Don’t want to watch them laugh at me.”

“Some of your classmates applied early decision. They’ve already been accepted.”

“You told me the deadline wasn’t until Christmas.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t apply now. The sooner you apply and get accepted, the better your chances at getting financial aid. Now look.” She leaned over the empty seat, crowding my air space. “It’s been a huge transition for you, coming here, but it’s time to suck it up.”