Wrong About the Guy(37)

I picked up the cupcakes, threw them away, and knelt down to wipe the floor with another paper towel. “You know, you could help,” I said, looking up at him.

“Some people make the mess; some clean it. And never the twain shall meet.”

“Hey,” I said to George as I stood back up. “How’s this for a new essay? I could write about how Americans waste too much food and we should all grow consciences about that.” I tossed the paper towel in the trash.

“And once again your sincerity would shine through.” George closed his laptop. “I’ve got to go. Tell your mom I’m going to pick up those bins she needs, will you? I’ll be back tomorrow to see if they work.”

“See?” Aaron said to me in a stage whisper. “He’s always here.”

George said, “I know. I need a real job. Trust me, I’m trying.” Then he said good-bye and headed out.

I felt a little bad, although I wasn’t sure exactly why, so I ran after him. “Thanks for the essay help,” I said, holding the front door open for him. “Heather and I both needed it.”

“You’re welcome,” he said and left.





eighteen


Riley and I were finishing up lunch at one of the courtyard tables at school the next week, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I swiveled. Arianna was standing over me, clutching a plastic container and a can of coconut water. She gave a little wave with her free hand. “Hey!” she said. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not!” I tried to sound more enthusiastic than I felt. “There’s always room at the inn.”

She sat next to me on the bench, and took the lid off her container, which turned out to be a salad. She then started to carefully remove bits of onion one by one with a single tine of her fork and deposit them on her napkin. “I was going to sit with my usuals, when I saw you guys and thought it would be a good chance to talk about the gift drive, and also just hang out! People totally get stuck in same-friend ruts, you know? I think we should all reach out more. I talked to Mr. Bergeron about doing a ‘new friends’ day where everyone would have to sit with someone new—like randomly assigned or something—and he loved the idea and is talking to Dr. Gardiner about it. So anyway, about the gift drive? I’ve been thinking about the posters. I was just going to do a stencil letter kind of thing—but, like, in bright colors and really artistic—only then I had this brilliant thought. At least, I think it’s brilliant. You have to tell me if I’m right.”

Riley stood up. “Sorry, guys, but before we get too deep into this, I need to go read over my notes for my AP History test next period. Wish me luck.”

We did, and she left.

“Ugh, that’s zucchini!” Arianna exclaimed, glaring down at her salad. “I thought it was cucumber. Who puts raw zucchini in a salad?” She got busy picking the zucchini out and piling it on top of the onion.

“So what’s your idea?” I asked.

“Okay, you know those Uncle Sam posters? The ones where he points and says, I want YOU?” She switched her fork to her left hand so she could demonstrate the pose.

“Yeah.”

“We do that. Except we say, I want YOU . . . to give to the gift drive.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “It’s a little military-ish, though, isn’t it? Wasn’t that for the draft?”

“No, it’s okay because we won’t actually use Uncle Sam.” She switched her fork back to her right hand. “That’s the whole point—we use your stepdad! Can you imagine how cool it would be for kids to walk down the hallway and see Luke Weston pointing at them from a bunch of posters? I bet they’d all notice it.”

“Yeah, no,” I said. “Let’s not do that. The stencils sound fine.”

“Oh.” She raised her chin a little. “It was just an idea.”

“I know.”

“I just thought he might want to help. Since it’s for a good cause.”

“Yeah. It’s just that I try not to drag him into school stuff.”

“But couldn’t you ask him? Maybe he’d want to do it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do you want me to ask him? Since it makes you uncomfortable to do it? I could come over sometime and just put it out there.” Big smile. Lots of teeth. “I’m willing to be pushy for a good cause.”

I believed her. “Let me think about it,” I said again.

She shook her finger at me playfully. “Don’t forget the goal is to get a lot of people involved in this! And there’s nothing wrong with using connections—if I had a celebrity in my family, I’d make him the mascot of the whole program.” She picked up her fork again and stabbed some lettuce, then stopped as she was raising it to her mouth to pluck off another microscopic piece of something before finally eating it. She crunched on the lettuce and said, “I mean, most people like to do charitable work.”

“Luke does tons for charity,” I said, stung by the implication that he didn’t. “I just don’t want to drag him into a school thing. For both our sakes.”

“I bet he’d be happy to do it. I don’t see how it would hurt to ask.”


“Right,” I said, just wanting to end the conversation. I stood up. “I’ve got to grab some books before my next class. I’ll see you later.”