Holly's Heart Collection Three (23 page)
Getting up, I knew I’d settled some important things spiritually. I just wished I didn’t have to learn things the hard way. Now . . . how to get Andie and Paula to believe me when I apologized?
Two days passed, and neither Andie nor Paula would let me get close enough to atone for my sins. Oh, I tried, all right. But they were ticked. Could I blame them?
Billy offered a solution when he and I ran into each other at lunch. “Tomorrow, first thing, Andie has student council. Why don’t you try to talk to her then?” His face didn’t flush red while we talked this time. Something was different.
“Did Andie say anything to you . . . about, you know, the thing at the library?” I asked.
“She only said she couldn’t believe you’d thrown a fit like that.” He blinked twice, looking at me. “By the way, about that talk we were going to have. When do you want to meet me?”
“Maybe we’d better skip it. If that’s okay with you.”
“Cool.” He leaned against the locker next to mine. Like he was beginning to relax around me. Like the old days before this bizarre infatuation started.
“To tell you the truth, I’m a little confused. I still get the feeling that Paula likes you. Did you two actually split up?”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s another subject.”
“Really?” I was dying to hear it from Billy’s lips.
“I better not try to explain now.” He looked me straight in the eye. “And I hope you and I won’t become enemies over this.”
“Over what?”
He blushed then. “Well, you know . . .”
So I was right. Billy still liked Paula a lot, even though he seemed to be struggling with some sort of feelings for me. Yet I was sure everything would work out for the best in the end.
Friday, before school, I planted myself in front of the student council office door and waited for Andie. I wanted to make amends. Desperately.
Five long minutes had come and gone when Ryan Davis showed up. “Hey,” he said, smiling.
“Looking for someone?” I asked, although I figured it was Zye Greene.
He stuck his hands into his pockets. “Waiting for the man. You?”
“Andie.”
“Cool.”
Then Jared came over, all smiles. I hoped he wouldn’t mistake my cheery reaction to his being there. Actually, he was the “out” I needed. Truth was, Ryan totally bugged me. In the past, his obvious prejudice toward Andie—toward all dark-skinned people—had made me furious. A sort of righteous anger. Of course, I didn’t hate him or anything. But I certainly couldn’t stand his half flirty, half-witted comments here lately.
Jared stood so close I could feel his shirtsleeve against my arm. “How’s the most popular editor in the school?”
“Guess again.”
“C’mon, Holly-Heart, you’ll be terrific,” Jared gushed.
“We’ll see.” I was thinking about that ridiculous reply I’d written to “Who Am I?”
“When’s the paper coming out?” Ryan asked.
“Monday.”
Ryan’s face lit up like the Fourth of July. “Great!”
“What are
you
so excited about?” Jared asked Ryan, who was still hovering near me.
“I think I’m going to be published—at last,” Ryan said.
Jared shrugged like it was no big deal. “Wouldn’t be the first time Mrs. Ross twisted someone’s arm to write an article for the paper.”
I could see these two guys weren’t crazy about sharing the same turf with me. And I was relieved when the office door opened and Andie walked out. “Hey, Andie,” I said, scurrying down the hall after her. “I need to talk to you.”
She kept walking, not talking.
“Look, I’m trying to apologize.”
Andie huffed. “I saw fire in your eyes, Meredith.” She was referring to Tuesday afternoon. The day she and Phil were fighting over
my
algebra book.
“You looked absolutely hateful.” She scowled. “Do you really dislike me so much? You caused a major scene!” She headed for the girls’ room and darted in. Before I could get to her, she disappeared into one of the stalls.
“So what does it take to say ‘I’m sorry’?” I asked, standing with my nose to her door.
Silence.
“C’mon, Andie, we can talk this out . . . we’re best friends.”
“Were.”
I stood my ground. “Please, can’t we just talk?”
“You already said that, but you know what? I think you should just forget about Billy Hill and grow up and go off to college and maybe marry your fine and fancy Sean Hamilton and get as far away from Dressel Hills as possible.” She sucked air into her lungs.
“Okay, now that that’s off your chest, are you finished?”
Tomblike silence.
“Andie?”
“Leave me alone,” she fired back.
So I did. I checked my hair in the mirror and walked right out of the rest room.
But feelings of rejection overwhelmed me, and I almost didn’t see Zye and Ryan on the opposite side of the hall. When Ryan’s eyes finally caught mine, I snapped to it, hurrying down the hall past them.
“Holly-Heart.” He rushed to catch up.
Shocked that he’d used my nickname, I whirled around. “Don’t ever call me that.”
“But it’s your name, right?”
“Not exactly.” I turned away from him, longing for the safety of my locker. If only I could get away from this obnoxious person. If only . . .
Just then I spied something pink and heart-shaped stuck to my locker door. “Oh great,” I muttered. “What’s this?”
“Looks like someone’s got a secret admirer,” Ryan said, still following me.
I stopped cold in the middle of the busy hallway. “Excuse me! I don’t know what you want, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to be left alone.”
He grinned. “Sorry there, Holly, just wanted to clear up one thing.” He glanced down the hall. “Uh . . . back there, when your friend Jared said something about Mrs. Ross asking me to write an article for
The Summit
—well, she didn’t ask me nothin’ like that. Okay?”
I was completely unprepared for his totally foggy confession. “Whatever.” I said it just to get him out of my hair.
Surprisingly, it worked. Ryan turned and headed the other way.
Quickly, I got to my locker and snatched off the . . .
valentine
? What on earth was this for?
I opened it and read the verse:
Roses are red,
Andie is blue,
I think it would help a lot
If she stayed away from you!
No signature. And besides that, the poem had been printed, not written in cursive. I studied it carefully. Nothing to go on. I glanced around the hall, hoping for a clue. This mystery-letters-and-notes thing was really getting out of hand.
I was still obsessing about the mystery writer in algebra.
Bravely I showed the valentine note to Jared, who was sitting behind me again, oddly enough. He read it and handed it back. “Sounds like you and Andie really tore into things.”
“That’s not why I showed you this,” I insisted. “Does the
printing
look familiar to you?”
He shook his head. “Nobody I know prints like that, but if you want my opinion, I think some girl probably sent it.”
“Thanks for nothing.” I turned around in time to see Mrs. Franklin staring at me. Looking down at my desk, I was embarrassed. What would she say about my homework today?
“Holly, may I see you after class, please?” she said.
I nodded without looking up, worried sick about another
F
grade, or worse—flunking algebra altogether. Not worried enough, though. Because, as hard as I tried, I could not keep my mind on the new assignment. I figured Phil would say I’d done it all wrong anyway when I got home, so why waste my time trying?
Instead of doing algebra problems, I doodled. Even concocted another scene for my novella, which had begun to suffer due to lack of time. My powers of concentration were focused on tutoring sessions. That, and worrying about the friends I was losing because of my bad temper.
And there were the mystery letters . . . and now an anonymous valentine poem. Who was writing them? And why?
MYSTERY LETTERS
Mrs. Franklin’s face showed zero emotion as I sat next to her desk. The classroom was empty, and she and I were alone again, just the two of us. I tried to bolster my bruised ego.
Glancing at my watch, I knew I’d probably be late for fourth hour. Mrs. Franklin would be more than willing to write an excuse for me, though, and probably include the reason for my tardiness on top of it.
I waited as she opened her desk drawer and found a file folder. “Here we are.” She looked at me momentarily. Her face seemed almost relaxed, instead of pinched up. Was this going to be good news after all?
I was puzzled.
“Holly, your stepbrother is doing an excellent job, I do believe.”
“He is?” I squeaked.
Was this a backhanded compliment? I couldn’t be sure.
She pointed to my score for our last homework assignment. “You missed only five problems.”
Five out of thirty.
“This is definitely an improvement,” she said. “Now, I want you to continue working with Philip for another week or so. We’ll see how you’re doing then.”
I nodded. “Thank you.” I wasn’t sure why I said that. Maybe because she had intimidated me so much before today. Anyway, I felt encouraged. And more confident.
After lunch I waited for Paula at her locker. She and her twin were strolling down the hall toward me. They stopped talking immediately when they saw me.
“Is this your idea of funny?” I held out the valentine to show them.
Paula sauntered to her locker, flicking through her combination. “Andie and I have had it with you, Holly” came her words. “For someone who’s going to be answering letters to the editor, and—” she paused, glancing at Kayla—“and for a Christian, well, you are certainly not reflecting God’s grace to the school population.”
God’s grace.
There it was again.
I nodded. “I agree with you, Paula, and I’m here to say I’m sorry about Tuesday.” I waited. She said nothing, so I continued. “I just want an answer about this valentine poem,” I said, “and then I’ll be on my way.”
“Holly, you can’t simply walk away like that.” This time Kayla was doing the talking.
“I’m not trying to avoid either of you. I just think that right now Paula may not be interested in patching things up.” I sighed. “By the way, have either of you met any perfect Christians?”
