Burn Before Reading(93)

“Thank you, Dad.”

I smile, and he tries on a smile as best he can, and it only breaks my heart a little, today.

When we’re home, I marvel at the silver ring alone in my room. It’s so perfect. Wolf will definitely like something like this. The more he has, the better he feels, right? His rings were only part therapy – the other part was clearly fashion. And this ring is certainly the coolest looking one I’ve ever seen. Not to mention it’s his namesake.

Now it was just a matter of getting it to him.

School isn’t an option. Or is it?

I’m so pumped about getting the ring to him that I only start to get nervous once I step out of the house the next morning. The nerves didn’t get me during breakfast, or as I brush my teeth, or when I dress – but the moment the cold air hit my cheeks, all the bottled-up anxiety I thought I’d thrown into the sea comes crashing back on my head like a tidal wave.

I can do this.

I have to do this.

I time my arrival at school way before the first bell – a whole twenty minutes early. Barely anyone is on campus, the empty halls and quad infested by dreary mist instead of students. I inwardly say goodbye to the few places on campus I remember fondly – my locker that I empty out, my History class, the cafeteria. Mr. Brant waves at me from his desk when he sees me at the door. He pulls it open and flashes me a smile.

“Hi, Bee.”

“Hey, Mr. Brant.” I can’t meet his gaze, shame overwhelming me. “I – I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”

“What? Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

“You didn’t hear? My scholarship got pulled.”

His eyes light up. “Oh, right. But I thought that was just a rumor – why are they doing that? Sure, you dipped a little in my class, but you clawed your way right back up. You’re the brightest student in your year!”

“I wouldn’t say that –“

“I would, Bee. I’ve seen kids come and go, and you’re the smartest I’ve ever had the honor of teaching. They can’t pull the McCaroll from you, not with how hard you work. I’m going to have a word with them –“

“Don’t!” I protest. “I mean, don’t. I’m not – I’m not completely blameless. I did something pretty bad. So.”

God, I wish I could stare at something other than my feet, but my head feels so heavy. My whole body feels heavy. Mr. Brant sighs.

“Well, if that’s the case, I hate to see you go.”

“Yeah. I’ll miss your class, Mr. Brant. Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime, Bee. If you need a recommendation for that NYU application, you let me know.”

“I will. Thanks.”

We part ways, and I head to the Auto Shop. Mr. Francis is, thankfully, in the garage, welding an exhaust pipe back into shape. I shout over the sound of the plasma torch.

“Mr. Francis!”

Nothing. Fire and sparks and his aproned body turned away.

“Mr. Francis!!!!!!!!”

He turns, finally, taking his metal faceguard off and flashing me a grin.

“Oh, Bee. You’re early. Something you need?”

I guess he wasn’t told I got kicked out, either. Somehow it just gets harder and harder to say it out-loud to every smiling face that’s been teaching me the past few months.

“Listen, Mr. Francis, I need a huge favor.”

“Ooookay.” He smudges his cheek with soot. “Can’t promise anything until you tell me what it is.”

“I’m not going to be able to make it to class today.”

“And why’s that?”

“D-Dentist appointment,” I say. “There’s something I have to give someone in the class. But I won’t be there.”

“And you want me to give this person that something?”

“Yeah,” I pull out the small, paper-wrapped box I put the ring in. “If you could give this to Wolf, I’d be really grateful.”

He eyed the tiny box, looking relieved it wasn’t as big as he thought it was going to be. “Alright. I can do that. Do you want me to tell him anything to go along with it?”

“No!” I lowered my voice. “I mean, no. Just – if you could leave my name out of it altogether, that would probably be for the best. He might throw it in the trash can, otherwise.”

Mr. Francis frowned. “It isn’t anything illegal, right?”

“No, I swear. I can open it right now and show you and re-wrap it – it’s a ring. Shake it.”

He does, the metallic clink clear enough for both our ears. He nods.

“Okay. I’ll be sure he gets it, and that you’ll remain a mystery.”

“Thank you, Mr. Francis. It means a lot to me. And thanks…for accepting me into your class. It was fun.”

“I’m glad,” He smiles. “Alright, get out of here. I’ve got a lot of pipe to weld and there’ll be sparks all over.”

I nod, and start up the stairs to the quad. On my way back to the parking lot, one building catches my eye – one beautiful shining building. The library.

It can’t hurt if I step in it one last time. Just once more. And then I’ll say goodbye to it forever.

I walk in, the librarian nowhere to be seen. Her cart’s perched at the back of the nonfiction section, so she must be shelving books. I inhale the smell of the library – the comforting smell of old pages and well-worn carpet and sun-bleached wood. I walk quietly up the stairs to the plush chair by the window I spent most of my time after school in. I’d say this was the place where I’d spent the most time in this school, period. I flopped in the chair and looked out at the sprawling lawn and gorgeous, morning-kissed trees one last time.