The Clique (2 page)

              Hannah shrugs. “I didn’t feel like rushing. Besides, I heard Mr. Silveris doesn’t take attendance… Speaking of which, where is he?”

              Her question is answered when Mr. Silveris kicks the door open. “Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to kick
that
hard,” he apologizes. Audrey has to take a moment to take him in: scruffy, dark-brown beard, hairy arms, one of those Hawaiian shirts with the orange flowers on it, khaki pants, and hair pulled back with a—well, it looks like a rubber band. She stifles a giggle.

              Mr. Silveris sets his coffee mug on the computer table in the corner. He strides to the whiteboard, opens up a dry-erase marker, and writes his own name and “AP Literature”. Then he turns to the class. “I’m Mr. Silveris. Welcome to AP Literature.” He smiles at Audrey, skips back to the door, and pauses as if confused. “Well, come on. You can leave your things here. We’re going on an adventure!”

              Audrey, Kate, Hannah, and the other kids follow Mr. Silveris out to what can only be described as George Washington High’s backyard—a hill overlooking the cafeteria, and further on, Ralph Waldo Emerson Elementary. He doesn’t stop until he’s reached the apex of the hill, and then he turns to face his class. “Breathe it in. This is the morning. Your first class of the morning. You could be out here, but instead you’re in
there—“
he points to the windows and gray concrete of George Washington.

              Mr. Silveris assumes a fighting stance, hands up and legs apart. “I know a lot of you probably feel like you dragged yourself out of bed this morning. Like you would rather be anywhere than here, or there. But remember this, my kiddos: this is life, and you live it no matter what you do. Nothing can pull you out of your life, because what you do
is
life. While you are here, while you are with me, I will teach you how to live. In the morning, we will win.” He turns away from them, toward the lower parking lot.

              “Whitman sounded his barbaric yawp over the treetops. Well, my friends, these are our treetops. Now, come on, yawp with me. Yawp!”

              Audrey shares a perplexed look with Kate. She can tell her friend’s wondering if the man’s crazy, and Aude doesn’t blame her.
Despite the question, she can’t help but admit the speech has her fired up.

              “Yawp with me!” Mr. Silveris shouts. “Yawp!” This time, some of the class joins in. He points to Audrey. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

              “Aude.”

              “Odd?” He shakes his head. “Okay, Aude. Yawp with me! And your friend, too. Everyone! Yawp!”

Audrey smiles and yawps
. What is a yawp anyway?
she wonders.
Oh, who cares!
“Yawp!”

             
Mr. Silveris grins broadly. “Great job. Now, we’re going to get really crazy. Who wants to roll down this hill with me? When was the last time any of you actually rolled down a hill, just for the fun of it? Come on, guys!” He does a cartwheel that ends in several somersaults down the hill.

              “Oh my god, I think our English teacher’s crazy!” Hannah whispers. But Mr. Silveris is looking at Audrey, and she knows what he expects.

              Aude log-rolls down. When she stands up, she feels dizzy and a little sore where she rolled over a rock—but giddy as well. “That was fun!” she exclaims.

              Kate gives a what-the-hell shrug and follows Audrey down. She’s followed by nearly the entire rest of the class. Mr. Silveris waits a few minutes, until only Hannah and a few others are left standing at the top.

              He brushes a leaf from his hair and parades back to the room. Once the class is reassembled, he resumes his fighting stance, facing them from the front of the room. “In the morning we will win. In here, I won’t teach you how to crunch numbers, or, god forbid, how to figure out the trajectory of a baseball. In here, I’ll teach you the very essence of life. I will teach you how to fly. But you know what Nietzsche said…“ He pauses, apparently waiting for someone to come up with a relevant quote. “No? Well, that’s alright. You, sir, in the back, could you please read what’s on the wall behind you?”

              “The wall behind me?” The boy twists in his chair. “Oh, okay. ‘He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying.’”

              Mr. Silveris smiles and nods his head. “One cannot fly into flying. Exactly. Nietzsche was the
man
. If you look over at my desk, you’ll see I only have two pictures: one of my lovely daughter, and one of him. One cannot fly into flying. In the morning we will win.” He pauses, looking a little confused. “Now, where was I going with this? Oh, right. I do not expect you to write like Nietzsche on your first attempts. I only care that you reach for the heavens. In this class, we’ll be reading and analyzing some of the greatest works known to man. In the morning, we will win.”

              He paces in front of the desks. “We’ll learn how to describe everything from the wonderful to the grotesque. We’ll study the work of the great masters of English, from Dante to Shakespeare. In the morning, we will win. We’ll write poetry, prose, essays, and—sometimes—complete nonsense. In the morning, we will win.”

              Aude shares another bemused look with Kate.

              “This class is more than just
a
class. This is
the
class. If you learn one thing from me, I want it to be this: inside each of you, there’s a chaos. And only through the beauty of language can you give birth to a star.”

              The bell rings. “Oops, I forgot the time.” Mr. Silveris grabs a pile of packets from his computer table. “Here, take one on your way out.” He stands at the door and pays each of the students a compliment as they exit.

              “Well, that was…“ Kate trails off.

              “Fun,” Audrey says, as Hannah says, “Strange.” They look at each other and laugh.

              “Both,” Kate agrees.

              After the exhilarating start to English, Aude feels ready to carpe some freaking diem. Or go to AP Statistics—you know, whatever.

Fifth hour, between twelve and one, is the only period that can reasonably be construed as entirely lunchtime. If Kate brings her own lunch and eats at twelve, it’s not too early. And if she goes out and doesn’t get food till the end of the period, it’s not too late. So much better than sixth hour lunch, which always feels rushed, or fourth hour, where hardly anyone’s hungry.

              Kate has both fourth and fifth periods off this year; she went with Aude, Maddie, and Hannah to Wendy’s last hour, but didn’t get anything. As they all head for their next classes, Aude’s hair catching the sunlight, Kate stays in the front courtyard. The large paved area is where everyone usually mills around on the first day, hoping to meet up with their friends who have the same off-hours.

              Kate examines a strand of her own hair while she waits out the final few minutes of fourth period. She thinks about how, with a bit of dye, she could have the exact shade as Audrey.
Her hair isn’t bad, but Aude’s is a perfect, honeyed color.

              “Whoa, you have this hour off?” Sean greets Kate with a peck on the lips. He looks young for a junior, with a bit of baby fat on his face, as well as a few freckles. “What’s fun, honeybuns?”

              “Not much.” Kate snorts and shakes her head. Since last year, that’s been her boyfriend’s greeting. He tries too hard to be funny sometimes. She returns his peck, wishing they could share more. Well, there’s always time after school.

              “Ugh, get a room.” Maddie, her dark blonde hair now tied back in a ponytail, fakes a gag.

              “Hey, Maddie. You have this hour off?”

              Maddie shakes her head. “Nope. I’m supposed to be in art, with Hannah. She’ll get the syllabus for me. Anyone else off now?”

              Sean answers, “Yeah—“

              Maddie scoffs. “I don’t wanna go to lunch with the soccer team.”

              “But you asked…“ At a look from Kate, Sean drops the argument. “Okay, where are we headed?”

              “Don’t care,” Maddie says.

              Kate frowns. “I haven’t had Chipotle in a while.”

              “Okay, Chipotle then. I’ll drive. To the chariot!”

Maddie rolls her eyes, and they begin the long walk up to Sean’s car.

              Sean reaches out to grab Kate’s hand. “So, are you free tonight?”

              “I dunno. Hey Maddie, is Hannah still having that thing tonight?”

              “What thing? Oh, the back-to-school thing. Um, no, I think her mom decided to stay for one more day. Packing and stuff, you know. So she moved it to tomorrow.”

              They reach Sean’s car, an old, silver coupe, and Kate pushes the passenger seat forward to let Maddie in the back.

              “So, yeah, I’m free tonight,” Kate says as Sean screeches out of the parking lot.

              “Cool. Your mom gonna be home?” he asks.

              “Yeah, probably.” Kate cranks up the radio and lowers the window. She looks at Sean and Maddie, not sure who looks less comfortable as the song blasts onto the street. “Come on guys, live a little! I got one less, one less pro-oblem!”

              A horrible screeching sound replaces the music. Sean hits the radio, and when that doesn’t work he shuts it off. “Sorry. Damn thing broke last week. I hate this car.”

              “Yeah, well, at least you have a car,” Kate says. She can hear Maddie laugh from the back seat.

              “Oh, don’t complain,” Maddie says. “We all know Aude drives you anywhere you wanna go. Who needs a car when you have your own chauffeur?”

              “Well, not everywhere I wanna go,” Kate argues. “Besides, I have to work everything into
her
schedule, or bum rides off someone else. I wanna be able to get in a car and just go somewhere without planning it in advance.”

              Maddie shrugs. “Whatever. Having a car really isn’t that great. You have to take it in to get fixed, and pay for gas, and wash it—maybe I’ll loan you my car so you can see.”

              Kate shakes her head. “You don’t
have
to do all that. Look at Aude: it’s been like a year since she got the oil changed, and she never has to pay for gas.”

              “Yeah, that’s ‘cause she’s spoiled. The rest of us have to pay for gas. And we have to work jobs to pay for things, ‘cause our parents don’t just give us whatever we ask for.”

              Sean pulls into the Chipotle parking lot. “Are we ready to go inside?”

              “Almost,” Kate answers, her attention still focused on Maddie. “I don’t get why you’re so bitter.”

              “I’m not. I just wish my parents were as cool as hers.” After a second, they both laugh. “Okay, never mind,” Maddie says. “Let me rephrase: I wish my parents were as cool as hers, minus all the crazy Mormon shit.”

              “Um, ladies, can we go in?” Sean’s already parked the car and popped his door open.

              “Yeah.” Kate leaves her door open, and helps Maddie out.

              “Next time, I’m totally driving,” Maddie says. “I don’t care if I have to pay for gas, I hate Sean’s back seat.” The two friends follow Sean inside. Maddie groans into Kate’s ear. “Is that Devon over there?”

              “Yup.” Kate fakes a smile and waves to the boy and his brother.
She’s pretty sure that the only reason Hannah likes Devon is because he doesn’t care how she acts. It sure isn’t for his looks.

              “Guys, guys, guys,” Sean says in a ridiculous, fake-nerd voice, “Come on, or I’m going to be late for my next class.”

              “Fine.” Kate and Maddie order—one burrito and a water each—and find seats about as far away from Devon as possible. “Oh, what is he doing?” Kate groans when Sean stops at Devon’s booth and strikes up a conversation. He sits down.

              “Let’s just stay here,” Maddie suggests. Easy for her to say: it isn’t
her
boyfriend ignoring them. Well, not ignoring them.
Maybe he’s just catching up
, Kate half-thinks, half-wishes. The hope is dashed when he leans back and starts in on his quesadilla.

              With a sigh, Kate rises from the table.

              “What are you doing?” Maddie asks.

              “Going over there.”

              “Fine, I’ll come with you.” The pair relocates to Devon’s table.

              “Hey ladies,” Devon greets. “We were just talking about you.”

              “You were?” Kate hides a grimace.

              “Yeah, we were just wondering if we could tag-team you.”

              Kate looks questioningly at Maddie. “What the fuck?” the other girl says.

              Devon’s brother, Dom, winces. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse Devon. He says some really stupid shit sometimes.”