Bethany Caleb (8 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Mr. Quinn lectured for about fifteen minutes, then he told everyone to read the photocopies while he graded some tests.
Most of the other students took the opportunity to resume their conversations.

Chester was quiet behind her, although Genn continued to talk.
“And remember how, last night, I got all paranoid and thought the cops were after us?” Chester wouldn’t remember something like that, because he adamantly refused to hang out with anyone who was doing drugs.

Bethany stared at the packet.
“The ancient civilization of Mesopotamia centered around the Tiber river,” she read. Then she pulled out her Sharpie and began drawing stiff, Egyptian-like people in the margins.

“Hey, Bethany.”

Bethany paused in her doodling.

“Bethany, hey.
Hey, turn around.”

She waited still, even put her pen back on the paper, although no more drawings came out, just a blot of black ink.

“Anyway, so I saw these headlights behind us, and I was like, ‘Slow down! It’s the cops!’ And James was like, ‘It’s a pickup truck,’ and I was like–”

A sharp jab in her side.
“Bethany!”

Bethany turned around.
Genn stopped talking, her eyebrows raised.

Chester pushed the Walkman on his desk toward her.
“Listen to the first song on there and tell me what you think.”

Glancing in Genn’s direction, Bethany put the headphones on and pressed play.
She could tell from the first heavy guitar riffs that this was the demo tape James always talked about making. James and Chester were in the band together. She listened for James’s voice, but Jase Sullivan’s voice screamed the first lines of the familiar song instead.

The song was one she’d heard many times before.
She’d always gone to the band rehearsals with James. Hearing the song now brought her back to those times.

Once the song was over, Bethany said in a low voice, “I thought James was the lead singer.”

“He is,” Genn said pointedly.

“Was she talking to you?” Chester snapped.

Genn glared at Chester, then held her packet in front of her face.

Chester leaned closer to Bethany and said, “James never comes to rehearsals anymore.
And if he does come, he’s stoned and...” Chester glanced at Genn, then said, “It just sucks. We have a gig in a couple of weeks and we’re nowhere near ready. Chris wants to kick James out, but if we do... What did you think of Jase’s singing?”

“It was okay.
I guess I’m used to hearing that song with James singing it.”

“I know.
James has a good voice. He just... If he’d show up once in a while, we could actually get somewhere. We have to change a lot of stuff because Jase’s voice is so much lower than James’s.”

“You are such a jerk!” Genn said.
Carolyn and Jeff stopped talking to look at her.

“Was I talking to you?” Chester said.
He glared at Genn. Bethany sat back a little.

“Sorry for having ears,” Genn said.
“But it sounds to me like you’ve already kicked James out of the band, and I know he doesn’t know about it.”

“What’s it to you?” Chester said.

“Maybe unlike you, I care about my friends and I don’t want to see James hurt by your selfishness,” Genn said.

Bethany looked at Chester and Genn and realized she was no longer part of the conversation.
She turned back to the packet they were all supposed to be reading, listening to Genn and Chester’s argument in the background. “The ancient civilization of Mesopotamia centered around the Tiber river,” she read.

“You’re the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever met,” Chester said.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Hey, class, let’s quiet down please,” came Mr. Quinn’s voice from the front of the room. Bethany hunched over her reading. The general talking decreased marginally. Chester and Genn had stopped talking. Bethany tried again to read. “The ancient civilization of Mesopotamia centered around the Tiber river. They contributed one of the earliest forms of writing, called cuniform.”

“So, Bethany,” Genn said loudly and pointedly.
“Are you going to put some paintings in the art show too?”

Bethany half-turned so she could see Genn’s face.
Genn was leaning forward. Bethany tried to read Genn’s facial expression, but it appeared Genn only wanted to ignore Chester. “What art show?” Bethany asked.

“The one James is going to be in.
It’s like some contest at the college.”

Bethany turned back to her reading.
“I never heard about any art contest.” She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Somehow she had fallen into one of Genn’s traps.

“That’s weird,” Genn said.
“I know Mr. Beck talked to James about it weeks ago.”

The muscles in Bethany’s jaw clenched again.
Genn didn’t sound like she thought that was weird at all. She sounded like she had something to do with James not talking to Bethany. Bethany chose not to reply to Genn’s statement.

After a full minute of silence, Genn finally said, “Looks like the two of you treat your friends the same way.”

Neither Bethany nor Chester answered.

When the bell finally rang, Bethany grabbed her bag and took off.
One more class, she told herself. Just one more class.

“Don’t forget tonight’s homework,” Mr. Quinn said over the noise of chairs scraping back.
“Read chapter five and answer the study questions at the end–”

Chapter Fifteen

James was waiting outside the door. Bethany saw him and stopped short, then sidestepped him and continued walking.

“Hey, Bethany,” she heard him say as she passed.

She did not return the greeting.

She heard him say, “Hey, Genn,” then, “Hey, wait.”
She wondered if Genn was ignoring him too.

And then he grabbed her arm.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”

She kept walking, though he slowed her down.
“Like you’d care anyway,” she said, pulling her arm out of his grip.

“I do care, wait up,” James said.
“Bethany, come on, don’t be like this.”

“I think Genn’s calling you,” Bethany said.
She started up the crowded stairwell.

“Bethany, stop, come on.”

At the top of the stairs, James managed to push her off to the side where no one was walking. “What is wrong?”

Bethany stared at the dog collar James was wearing.
She had given that to him at some point during their relationship. “I don’t know, maybe you should tell me.”

James exhaled.
“Bethany, I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you’re mad at me, just say why.”

“Leave me alone,” Bethany said.

Behind James, Genn was making her way up the stairs. “James! What are you doing?”

“Why are you mad at me?” James asked Bethany.

Bethany looked away from James and his girlfriend, down the hall at the thinning crowd.

“Just leave her alone,” Genn said.
“She’s sulking about the art show she’s not in.”

“What?”

“Remember?”

“Oh, shit.”

Bethany glanced at James.

“Beth, I’m sorry,” he said.
“I was supposed to tell you.”

Bethany looked back down the hall.
At the far end, she could see Shannon and her disciples clustered together. Something else to look forward to, she thought.

“I’m sorry,” James said again, louder.

For a moment no one said anything, no one moved. Finally Bethany took a deep breath and asked, “Why were you supposed to talk to me? Why wouldn’t Mr. Beck talk to me about it?”

“I don’t know, he just told me to tell you and I forgot–”

“I thought he thought I was good at art.”

“He does think you’re good.
They don’t let anyone into that class, you know that.”

Bethany barely heard him.
She heard instead the smug smile growing on Genn’s face. “He must really think I suck at art. He must think all my paintings suck. That’s why he hasn’t graded any of them yet.”

“You know that’s not it–”

“Leave me alone,” Bethany repeated, and walked quickly down the hall. This time when James grabbed her arm, she shook him off immediately. “Don’t touch me,” she said, glaring at him for a split second before ducking into her classroom.

Chapter S
ixteen

She waited three long minutes for Shannon to stroll through the door. The past 45 apparently hadn’t given Shannon time to forget the incident. Shannon gave Bethany a look of pure evil. Bethany stared at a diagram of DNA strands, her face hidden by her hair.

The biology teacher, Mrs.
Mathis, wanted to have some kind of discussion about the scientists who had discovered DNA. Everyone was supposed to have read the chapter over the weekend. Bethany pretended to take notes, instead doodling in the margins of her notebook.

Drawing after drawing flew out of the tip of her Sharpie.
Bethany caught the eyes of Shannon or one of her disciples on her every few minutes. The second hand of the clock moved far too slowly.

Toward the end of class, Shannon raised her hand.
Bethany looked up. Shannon couldn’t possibly want to participate in a class discussion; it would imply that she cared about her schoolwork. Bethany watched as Mrs. Mathis called on her.

“Mrs.
Mathis, I think Bethany Caleb has something she’d like to say.” Shannon folded her hands primly, a smug smile on her face. Her head, as well as everyone else’s, swiveled to stare at Bethany in her back corner seat.

“Yes, Bethany?” Mrs.
Mathis said. Bethany thought she could detect a bit of the same smugness in Mrs. Mathis’s pursed lips; perhaps she knew Bethany didn’t really have anything to contribute. Bethany frantically tried to think of something to say about DNA, anything, some stupid small observation that would prove to Shannon that she had no control over Bethany’s vocal cords.

But with Shannon staring at her, Bethany couldn’t even make something up.
She didn’t know anything about DNA at all. She shook her head mutely, staring down at the ridiculous drawings all over her notebook page, thinking about the gun in her backpack. Her hands were shaking. There was nothing she could do.

Giggles
erupted all over the classroom. “Perhaps you could think of something to say, Miss Caleb, if you were actually following the discussion instead of concentrating on your artistic aspirations,” Mrs. Mathis said dryly, walking over to Bethany’s desk and tearing off the top page. She crumpled it into a ball as her heels clicked back to the front of the classroom. “Now, let’s return to the relationship between Watson and Crick... ”

Bethany looked down at the newly blank page in her notebook.
For the rest of the period she stared at it, unable to make a mark on it.

When the bell rang, Bethany didn’t think she could move.
She was going to wait for Shannon to leave before braving the hallways, but from beneath her hair she watched as Shannon came straight over to her desk and casually sat down, her four disciples behind her.

“So Bethany,” Shannon started.
“When are you going to dye your hair blond again so you can win back your loser boyfriend?” Shannon reached over and touched Bethany’s hair. Bethany jerked away. Alison, Lea, Caitlin and Liz laughed. Bethany’s hands were shaking, but she tried to concentrate on the book in her hands, like she really wanted to sit here and read instead run out the door.

“Really, why would you want someone like him back?
You know, someone who wants to blow up the school?” asked Alison.

Bethany moved to get her backpack and leave, but Liz stepped in and kicked it out of Bethany’s reach.

“I bet Bethany wants to blow up the school too,” Liz said.

“Probably she gets off on guys like that.”

“Now Bethany,” Shannon said, turning back to her. “We all know you’re not a virgin.” Bethany looked up sharply. How could they know? “So, tell us. How many people have you fucked?”

Bethany was so surprised by the question that she didn’t think about whether or not she should answer.
“Only one.” Her voice cracked.

“Only one!
Come on now, Bethany. Don’t lie to us. We know about Chester, and—” Shannon’s serious face cracked a little, “—Nathan.”

Nathan hadn’t quite gotten out of the classroom door yet.
Bethany shot a horrified look in Nathan Javovich’s direction as the blondes cracked up laughing. “How was it, having sex with someone that big? Didn’t he, like, crush you?”

“I didn’t—”

“Gimme a break, Bethany,” said Caitlyn, giggling. “You sit with him on the bus every day. We know what’s going on.”

Bethany could see Nathan’s face turn red on the other side of the room.
His shuffling pace quickened. Shannon was laughing so hard tears were coming out of her eyes. Finally the confrontation was over and Shannon led her disciples away. But Bethany still couldn’t move. She stared at her bag, two feet away from her.

Her own voice had betrayed her.
Her father’s gun had betrayed her.

Mrs.
Mathis was staring at her. Finally her teacher’s lack of words made her angry enough to move, to get up, get the hell out of the classroom.