Beat the Band (Swim the Fly #2)(25)

“It’s not here,” I leap in, rescuing her. “It’s at home. I’m typing the ideas up on my computer. You know. Putting it into proper outline form. There’s a lot of stuff there, Mrs. Turris. Pages and pages. It’s going to take some time.”

Mrs. Turris tents her fingers. “Okay. Let me make this easy for you. You weren’t at the library yesterday.”

“What?” I make an appropriately incensed expression. “Where do you think we had our brainstorming session?”

“Cooper.” Mrs. Turris stares at me. “You didn’t have a brainstorming session because you didn’t meet yesterday.” She turns and peers at Helen. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

Helen can’t hold Mrs. Turris’s gaze. She looks down at her feet. Goddamn her and her truthful ways.

Mrs. Turris turns back to me. “I happened to be at the library a little after two. I only live a couple of blocks away. I had some books I needed to return. So I popped in to drop them off and check up on you. And guess what? No Cooper and no Helen.”

“You live near the Barrytown Library?” I say, feigning innocence.

Mrs. Turris laughs. “You’re going to tell me that you went ten miles out of your way to the Barrytown Library? Instead of the Rockville Public Library, which is right in town? And where I told you to go?”

I shrug. “We prefer Barrytown, right?” I look at Helen to chime in with some support here. “They have better lighting.”

“Coop, just stop,” Helen says, defeated.

Oh, great. Sell me right out, why don’t you? What happened to trusting the person you’re supposed to be partners with?

Mrs. Turris’s mouth is squinched up into a tight anus. “You’ve left me no choice, you two. I’m going to have to insist that you both report to the school library after dismissal two days a week until the project is completed. Shall we say, Mondays and Wednesdays?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that,” I say. “I’ve got band practice after school.”

“And I’ve got cross-country,” Helen adds.

“Okay. Let me clarify something for you.” Mrs. Turris levels her gaze at us. “When I said ‘insist’ I meant ‘insist.’ So whatever your previous obligations are, they’ll have to be rescheduled. And you’ll want to make sure you sign in with Miss Jerooni, because I’ll be checking in with her. If you skip even a single day, two projects will become three, will become four, will become five. And the like.”

I exhale. “So, you’re giving us detention?”

“More like intention.”

“I don’t understand,” I say.

“Oh, you will, Cooper.” Mrs. Turris smiles. “You will most definitely understand before the end of the semester. I’ll make sure of that.”





“I CAN’T GO WITH YOU GUYS,” Matt says, placing his books into his locker.

“What are you talking about, dawg?” I dial the combination on my lock and snap it open. “The Corner Market at lunch. That was the deal. I’ve got detention with Helen today. I need your help with my plan.”

“I just . . . can’t.” Matt won’t meet my eyes. “I told Val I’d join chess club. She said it’d look good on my college applications.”

“Chess club?” Sean laughs. “You don’t even like chess.”

Matt shrugs. “I don’t hate it.”

“No, but you like being a pawn.” I peer at him. “Dude, isn’t chess club, like, three days a week?”

“Just at lunchtime.” He shuts his locker door. “I had no choice. It was either that or I couldn’t do the band after school. I had to make a compromise. During school time in exchange for after school time.”

I feel my eyes bulge to the point where if they weren’t attached to my head they’d flop from my skull. “Okay. Are we going to have to do an intervention, Matthew? Because, seriously, it’s hard to sit around and watch one of my best buds getting systematically castrated.”

“Relationships are about give-and-take, Coop. Of course, you wouldn’t know that, having never been in one.”

“If that’s what a relationship is, I’ll never be in one.” I flip through a notebook, looking for a paper I printed out in the computer lab. “Just wait. Ten years from now, you’ll be the dude with the squawking, doughy wife and six barfing brats hanging on to your legs, and I’ll be the happy bachelor, bouncing from growler to growler, feeling pity for you, but knowing that I told you so.”

“Yeah, well, I happen to want to have kids someday,” Matt says.

Which makes me laugh. “Ah, yes. Babies. The worst of the STDs. Make sure you and Sean address that in your Health report. It’s the disease that keeps on growing and can’t be cured with ointment.” I find the page, fold it in half, and chuck the notebook back into my locker.

“Anyway,” Matt says. “I’m doing this for you. You could show a little gratitude once in a while.”

I get that dropping feeling in my gut, like maybe I’ve pushed this too far. “Okay, I’m sorry,” I say. “I do appreciate it. I’m just used to the way things were before. The Three Musketeers, you know. It’s totally cool. Sean and me will hit the store on our own. We’ll catch you later.”