More Than Good Enough(45)

“And why are you talking to your ex-girlfriend? We can’t be together if you’re still with her.”

“But I’m not.”

“So you’re not with Michelle. But you’re sleeping with her. Is that how it works?”

“You’ve got it all confused. It’s over with that girl, okay? Like I said, it’s been over.” I was freaking. How could I be in trouble for a crime I didn’t even commit? Most of all, I couldn’t stop thinking about the word “together.”

Were we together?

I pulled my cell from my pocket. “Look. Michelle’s number isn’t even in the contact list. I deleted it.”

“Your laces are untied. And you dropped something.” She pointed.

The gator tooth had fallen out. I picked it up before it got trampled. When I turned around, Pippa was gone. Of course, I started running after her.

I was in the moment.

That’s all that mattered.

When I reached the lockers, I raised both arms like I was crossing the Olympic finish line. Pippa was not amused. I shoved my phone in her face, trying to get her to see.

“See?”

Pippa waved my hand away. “You can’t erase what happened. Not when it’s already done.”

“Okay. You’re mad at me. I get that. But give me a chance to … you know. Make you un-mad.”

“Too late for that.” She dug inside the locker and yanked out her Language Arts book. The cover was wrapped in a paper bag, as if it hid something dirty instead of boring essays about Research Skills. Too bad we didn’t read stuff that was R-rated, or at least PG-13. Then maybe I’d stay awake.

“Let me prove I’m not a liar.” I checked my text messages. Sorted through the random contents of my life. It was kind of pathetic, especially when absorbed all at once.

I scrolled through, barely paying attention, until Michelle’s number popped up. Sure, I’d deleted her from the list. That hadn’t stopped her from texting me after I left Alvaro’s. I’d been so wasted that night, I didn’t remember answering it.

Michelle: Why did you leave so fast?

Trent: Got better places to be

Michelle: That’s why you should come over

Trent: No thanks

Michelle: Because of your gf? She won’t find out.

Trent: But I found out about you

Michelle: Are you in love with her?

Trent: Yes

The whole situation didn’t seem real. I kept staring at the screen. It felt so weird, looking at stuff I had no memory of typing. That’s how drunk I’d been, just minutes before I’d found Dad on the lawn. Almost like an out-of-body experience. Or ghostly possession.

I was the ghost.

Pippa had left me standing there alone. Okay. It was too late to erase the damage. I couldn’t travel backward in time and tell her about Michelle at Alvaro’s. Maybe I could move forward.

The first thing I did was block Michelle’s number. No more booty calls from her. Next, I ran up the stairs to find Pippa. It wasn’t like I’d memorized her schedule or anything. I still hadn’t memorized my own. I must’ve looked like a creeper, moving from one classroom to another.

The windows in the doors were painted with flying hearts and these creepy-looking babies with bows and arrows. That was bad enough. Then everybody had to take turns scratching bad words into the paint. So it was like “Yay, let’s celebrate love. And by the way, f*ck you.”

I peeked through the scratched-up hearts. It was so dark in the room, I could barely see anything except the dull glow of a television and Pippa’s sweet face in silhouette. Guess the teacher was showing a movie. What’s the point in coming to school if you’re just sitting at a desk, watching some lame DVD that you could probably download for free online? I mean, come on.

Slowly, I cracked the door. A beam of sunlight oozed across the carpet.

“What can I do for you?” the teacher mumbled, like a waitress taking an order at Denny’s.

I wanted to say, “You can’t do anything.” Not a single person on Planet Earth could help me now. It was all in my hands. Instead, I said the magic words: “I need to talk to Pippa.”

All the heads in the room craned around. Pippa was trying to melt into her chair, but she couldn’t hide from me.

“Do you have a permission slip?” The teacher was going on about campus rules. Like I needed her permission to talk to the girl I loved.

The stupid TV was blasting a speech about Manifest Destiny. In other words, the excuse to do what you wanted. Take away somebody’s home. Steal their food and basically destroy the land. We’re supposed to pretend it happened a long time ago. Well, history repeats itself. That’s one thing I learned.

I cruised past the teacher and headed straight for Pippa’s desk. “Come on,” I said, stretching out my hand.

She stared at it. Then grabbed hold.

We marched through the classroom. When we reached the door, she said, “I’ll be right back.”

I was trying not to laugh. For a second I almost forgot she was pissed. It didn’t take long to refresh my memory.

“You better have a good reason for this.”

“Trust me. It’s good,” I said, pulling her toward the staircase.

“How can I trust you anymore?”