Of the Trees(28)

“What? Like what kind of brush?” Sara asked, turning to see Laney for the first time. Laney shook her head, but before she could clarify, Mr. McLean started shouting again, and a flash of blue and red lights pulsated over the small crowd.

“Now really, you have to go!” Mr. McLean yelled, waving his detention slip book high in the air. “You, Mr. Nass and you, Miss Brooks, to class now!”

He shouted out the various surnames of students he recognized, waving blank slips at them. The students shuffled along slowly, heading in a group toward the door. Cassie saw her father at the front door. He was herding the group along, his briefcase still in hand, and he frowned in her direction when he saw she was among them. She grinned and shrugged, letting the warmth of the hallway engulf her as the surge of students swept her forward. The twins took off down the junior’s hallway. She and Laney just got to their lockers as the first warning bell rang.

Cassie didn’t see Ryan until their first class together. She felt a fluttering in her chest and her face heating up as he made eye contact from the doorway. Ryan strolled in just as he would have done any other day, sat at the desk next to her, and casually asked, “Did you get the homework done for Benson?”

“Who?” Cassie asked, her brow wrinkled as she regarded Ryan. He flipped through the drama book, not looking at her.

“Mr. Benson,” he answered calmly. “You know, our teacher. Didn’t we have to start A Midsummer’s Night Dream last night?”

“The play?” she asked stupidly, and it wasn’t until then that he looked up.

“Um, yeah,” he said. “Wasn’t that due?”

“Not sure,” she answered just as Mr. Benson started class. He shrugged and turned his face back to his book. She tried several times through Mr. Benson’s lecture and ensuing dramatic reading from the Shakespeare play to catch Ryan’s eye, but he didn’t glance her way. He even offered to read a part when Mr. Benson asked for volunteers. Cassie was so frustrated with how aloof he was being, as though she had imagined the kiss last night, that she could barely pay attention in class. She was called on twice and had to stutter out a few vague answers that barely made sense. Still, Ryan only regarded her with the typical polite, friendly smile. She could feel her forehead wrinkle as she looked at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“See you at lunch?” he asked, just after the bell rang. She nodded dumbly, too annoyed to formulate a better response. He offered a wry half-smile before walking toward the door.

Cassie was unable to dwell on her frustration. Her next class started with a surprise, pop quiz. She finished it and then waited impatiently for the period to end, deciding to take the short cut by the front office to get to lunch. It ran right by the gym, and Ryan was there for class. Maybe if they talked without the presence of a full classroom or packed cafeteria surrounding them, he might be more inclined to mention last night.

The halls were less crowded on this side of the building. The lights of the police cars were still splashing red and blue through the windows and all the way onto the walls of the main office. The office was separated from the hall by a half wall with a glass partition. From the way the secretaries were turned away from the desk, some with hands shielding their eyes, Cassie could tell the lights had been non-stop since that morning. Just as she passed the front door, it burst open, a rush of cold air swirling into the hallway. Cassie recoiled, knocking into the glass door of the office. She could feel the glare of the secretaries behind her.

“So, you say there’s been more,” a soft-spoken voice asked. A small man with fine bone structure in a beige officer’s uniform followed Cassie’s stocky principal in through the front door.

“In the lavatories,” Mr. Rossi admitted in a low voice. Cassie froze, keeping her body still and pressed to the glass door behind her. Something made her pause, made her want to hear what her principal would say next.

“Which way?” the officer asked, his gentle manner incongruous with his starched, formal uniform, his shiny black belt loaded with heavy paraphernalia, most notably a gun. Mr. Rossi gestured down the hall to Cassie’s left.

“It’s the same thing, I thought it was paint, but … Miss Harris!” Cassie jumped again, looking at her principal. He was unnaturally sweaty, especially for having just come inside from a brisk fall morning. “Where are you supposed to be?”

“Oh, ah,” Cassie hesitated, the bell for class cutting her off. “Just getting something for my dad.”

It was her old standby. Anytime she was anywhere in the school she wasn’t supposed to be, she dropped her dad’s name, said she was on an errand, and she was off the hook. Truthfully, he had asked her to get him things on occasion. As expected, Mr. Rossi gave a curt nod and flicked his wrist in a get-on-with-it motion that sent her backing into the office. She could always check her dad’s mailbox, pretend she found something to get him.

Miss Keller looked up from the front desk, the false smile she usually wore slipping as soon as she realized it was Cassie coming in. The officer and her principal were already halfway down the hall, their footsteps echoing through the slam of classroom doors.

“A little early to be picking up your dad’s mail, isn’t it?” Jane Keller asked, grinning over the counter at Cassie.

“Yeah, well, The Penguin had me cornered,” Cassie said. Her principal’s short stature and rotund waist had earned him the nickname before the first day he worked was even over. It had stuck over the years. Miss Keller, though she worked for the school, wasn’t that much older than most of the students. She knew the nickname and Cassie had even heard her use it once or twice under her breath. She laughed now as Cassie leaned around the counter to watch her principal bounce down the hall. “He’s all bent out of shape over a bit of paint, isn’t he?”