When Reason Breaks (10 page)

“But, I sprained my knee when I fell from the tree,” Elizabeth protested. She sat straight up. She wanted to prop her leg on Ms. Gilbert's desk, but instead crossed her legs and placed the ice pack on the side of her knee. “Making me walk for forty-five minutes is cruel and unusual punishment, and I'm pretty sure we have laws against that.”

“Well, the nurse says your injury isn't serious, so you should be fine,” Ms. Gilbert responded. “Unless you have a doctor's note or your mom excuses you for some reason, you will make up the class.”

“I'm not calling my mom,” Elizabeth said indignantly.

“Fine, then you'll make up the class.” Ms. Gilbert's arms were crossed; her elbows rested on the desk. “Anyway, I think that's more fitting than having detention. You should make up any class you skip because the point is we want you in class and nowhere else. Every teacher has something valuable to teach you. That's why they're here. When you miss a
class, you miss something important and you send the message that you don't care.”

“I don't care? Seriously? I hurt my knee, and you want me to walk for forty-five minutes, and I am the one who shows a lack of caring?” She was animated as she spoke, moving her hands and pointing at herself and Ms. Gilbert to emphasize her point.

Ms. Gilbert sat quiet for a moment and then said, “Elizabeth, you should know by now that I am deeply concerned about your well-being.”

Elizabeth sighed and lowered her gaze. She uncrossed her legs and slouched in her seat a bit. She stretched out her leg, trying but failing to ease her discomfort.

“This is not about me right now. This is about you, and yes, when you skip class, you send the message that you don't care.”

“That I don't care about what?”

“About anything. About the class, the teacher, what they have to offer you, your education, yourself.”

“All of that because I skipped gym?” Elizabeth asked sarcastically. Tears welled up. She swallowed hard, trying to stop them.

“This isn't only about P.E. class,” Ms. Gilbert said, pulling back a little, uncrossing her arms. “It's a new school year. I don't want last year's routines to be repeated. I want you to focus on this year and not dwell in the past. The reality is, Elizabeth, you can't go back and change what happened.”

Ms. Gilbert paused again. Elizabeth looked down at a small
hole in her jeans, new from the fall. She pulled at it with her fingers. She often did that, made small things bigger instead of leaving them alone.

“What you can change is yourself, how you do things, how you feel, how you see and respond to the world. But you have to
want
things to change. And you have to care
more
than the people around you.”

“I care,” Elizabeth said softly, still pulling at the hole in her jeans.

“Look at me,” demanded Ms. Gilbert. Elizabeth straightened up a bit and raised her eyes. Ms. Gilbert stared right at her. “Then, prove it.”

Elizabeth lowered her gaze again and began to cry. Ms. Gilbert let her tears fall for a minute and then handed her a box of tissues. Elizabeth plucked one and wiped her face. Most of her black eyeliner streaked off after several swift strokes. Ms. Gilbert wrote Elizabeth a pass to class and handed it to her. “You can start by going to every class, every day.”

Elizabeth snatched the pass and left without another word.

After school, Elizabeth entered the girls' gym locker room to get ready for her makeup class. She had a new ice pack and an Ace bandage thanks to Nurse Ryan, and she had duct tape thanks to her tech-ed teacher. Sitting on a bench, she leaned over, wrapped the flexible ice pack around her knee and secured it as best she could with the Ace bandage. Then, she unrolled a long piece of duct tape, ripped it with her teeth, and wrapped it around her knee.

Nearby, Emily watched Elizabeth. She noiselessly closed her locker after changing for cross-country practice.

“Are you okay?” she asked in almost a whisper.

“I'm fantastic, can't you tell?” Elizabeth responded but didn't look at Emily.

“Sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah, leave me alone.” Elizabeth turned and glared at Emily. Her tone and words were harsh, but her eyes revealed something else. Emily stared back, a bit stunned. She opened her mouth to say something, but turned and jogged out of the locker room. Elizabeth pushed herself off the bench and followed Emily's steps, limping out of the locker room and to the track.

Elizabeth cut to the inside lane and observed the packs of runners. Some talked and laughed while they ran. Others were serious, concentrating on their breathing and pacing. On the other side of the track, she spotted Abby, who looked like she was skipping through a meadow, turning at times as she talked to Sarah, like she was telling a story and choreographing it at the same time. Emily jogged behind this running-dancing-laughing twosome, struggling to catch up.

Elizabeth felt bad about snapping at Emily, but her own misery overruled any stitch of sympathy she had for anyone else. Walking casually was all Elizabeth could manage. Whenever she tried to pick up her pace, pain shot through her knee. She winced and tears stung her eyes.

As Elizabeth rounded a corner, she looked beyond the track to the nearby parking lot. Ms. Diaz stood next to her
car. She raised a hand just above her eyes, like a visor, and watched the activity on the track. After a few paces, Elizabeth realized that Ms. Diaz was looking directly at her.

Maybe she does care
. For a second, she asked herself the same question Kevin asked at lunch, “
Who cares if she cares?
” She hadn't shared it at lunch, but she had a reason. She needed Ms. Diaz to care because somebody had to. And it had to be someone who wasn't required to because they were family or receiving a paycheck to be “concerned about her well-being.”

Elizabeth used the collar of her T-shirt to wipe away her tears. If Ms. Diaz wasn't tired of her yet, then maybe Elizabeth could muster the energy to care. Ms. Diaz lifted the hand she used to shield her eyes to give Elizabeth a wave. Elizabeth didn't respond. With her eyes fixed a few inches in front of her feet, she continued to hobble around the track.

“Here you are,” said Sarah as she slipped into a chair across from Emily in the school library. Abby dropped her heavy backpack to the floor near the table and sat next to Sarah. She faced Emily, but turned her body sideways and crossed her legs.

“Hey,” Emily said and smiled.

“We decided to hunt you down when you didn't show at lunch. Are you okay?” asked Sarah, who leaned into the table to get as close to Emily as possible.

“I'm fine,” said Emily.

“No, you're not,” said Abby. Emily tensed and sat up straighter. “You've got to be so much more than fine when you're in love with Kevin Wen-Massey. If you say you're just fine, I'll be so disappointed.”

The girls laughed loud enough to earn a stern stare and a “Shush!” from the librarian.

“Is that why you haven't been hanging out with us much? Has Kevin been taking up all of your time?” Sarah asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Enough with the eyebrows,” Emily said and chuckled. “What do you mean? I've been hanging out with you guys.”

“In school, yeah, sort of, but out of school, you've been totally M.I.A.,” said Abby. “The last six weekends, you've missed two trips to the mall, two group hangouts at Angelo's Pizza, one party, and a movie. I don't remember what it was about, but Ryan Gosling was in it, so it was awesome.”

The girls laughed.

“Not that we're keeping track or anything,” Sarah said and glared at Abby.

“I'm just saying if you're going to blow us off, I hope it's worth it.”

“Sounds like you've been out more than me,” said Emily. “I mean, yeah, I've been hanging out with Kevin, but I've been busy with other things, too.” Emily pointed to the opened books in front of her.

“Busy with something other than Kevin? What could possibly be more interesting or fun?” Abby swiveled her legs under the table and faced Emily to be fully into the conversation.

“You know, schoolwork and things at home. And, when I'm done with all of that, I'm tired.”

“Tired? You're sixteen, not sixty, Em,” said Abby. “Listen, down a couple of Red Bulls this week because Lucas is having
a party on Saturday and we're going. And by ‘we,' I mean the three of us. Kevin can meet us there if he wants, okay?”

Going to a party was the last thing Emily wanted to do, but she said, “Okay.”

The house was packed when they arrived. Sarah and Abby moved easily through the crowd, saying hi to people. Sarah was in front of Emily, holding her hand as they walked. Emily focused on Sarah's hand wrapped around hers, remembering how they used to clasp hands as they sat side by side on the playground swings. They'd see how high they could go without getting out of sync and disconnected.

In the kitchen, Abby made her way to a senior named Sergio who was pouring drinks. She tugged on the front of his shirt to get him to bend down. He smiled at whatever she said, and she pecked him on the cheek when he handed her the first of three cups of beer. Abby kept one and passed the others to Sarah and Emily. They “clinked” their plastic cups and Sarah and Abby drank. Emily held her cup low and scanned the room.

“Abby, move in,” Sarah said. “We'll shield you,” she said to Emily. Once concealed, Emily gulped her drink.

“There you go,” said Abby. She grabbed Emily by the shoulders and shook her gently. “Loosen up and have fun. No worries, okay? The social ninja warriors have your back.”

Abby and Emily smiled and then Abby turned her attention back to Sergio.

“Come on, let's walk around,” said Sarah.

Sarah guided Emily through the house and outside. When Sarah stopped to talk to some people, Emily kept walking. She went back inside and weaved through the crowd several times looking for Kevin, but he hadn't arrived yet. When her beer was gone, she returned to the kitchen for another. Abby was kissing Sergio, so someone else managed the beer-pouring duties. Emily slyly sipped her drink when no one was looking and smiled politely when they were. Her stomach twisted in knots. She wanted to go home but didn't say anything.

Instead, Emily went upstairs and discovered an office. She closed the door behind her almost all the way, but left it open just enough to allow in a sliver of light from the hallway. Books lined one wall, from ceiling to floor. She found an old, hardcover copy of Thoreau's
Walden
and sat near the door. Legs stretched out and ankles crossed, Emily relaxed and read as best she could with the dim light. She quickly got lost in the pages.

After a while, the door opened. Before Emily could move, someone tripped over her legs. The girl clutched a large cup in one hand that she didn't want to spill, so she instinctively twisted and landed with a thud.

“Ugh! Not again!” Elizabeth rolled on her back. She groaned and pounded her fist into the hardwood floor, once for each word: “Son of a bitch!”

Emily covered her mouth with her hand, half-worried about Elizabeth and half laughing at the girl's reaction.

Elizabeth stared at the ceiling for a few moments before turning to see who had caused her fall.

“Delgado, what are you doing here?”

“Reading.”

“Reading. Of course. That makes total sense.” Elizabeth sat up and moved opposite Emily, her back against the wall, her knees hugged to her chest. She alternately rubbed her injured leg and rolled the wrist that saved her face from hitting the floor.

Emily stood and pushed the door back in place. “What are
you
doing here?” she asked after returning to her spot on the floor. “You hardly ever come to parties.”

“Right. I should have kept that up, too,” said Elizabeth. “First, I thought it was a stupid Halloween costume party, and then I thought this was the bathroom. Now, I'm hurt. I should have stayed home as usual, but no, I let Tommy drag me here. He's going to pay for this.”

Emily took a good look at Elizabeth. Her hair was in pigtails. She wore ripped jean shorts, fishnet stockings, a black-and-red dog collar, and black knee-length leather boots with rows of metal buckles.

“Don't you always dress kind of like that?”

“I had on a white lab coat and NCIS badge. I left it in the car when I saw no one else was dressed. I brought this, though, figuring I'd need to drink to get through the night.” Elizabeth reached for the large cup she managed to save during the fall. It read “Caf-Pow.” She sucked hard on the straw.

“You look like her,” Emily said with a smile.

“Yeah, well, I figured it would be easy enough. I own the same freakish clothes.”

“I think she's beautiful,” said Emily.

Elizabeth squinted her eyes at Emily but didn't say anything. After a few quiet moments, Elizabeth asked, “Why are you in here reading?”

“I didn't want to come to the party, either.”

“Why not? Kevin's here.”

“Did he come with you?” Emily asked.

Elizabeth nodded.

Just then, Emily's phone buzzed, a text from Kevin, asking where she was. She responded that she was in the bathroom and would find him later.

“I know it's none of my business, but why did you wait so long to tell your friends? I mean, Abby's shoving her tongue down Sergio's throat in the middle of the kitchen. Did you really think they'd care?”

Emily thought for a moment.
Why
had
she kept it a secret?

“At first, I thought they'd be mad because I didn't tell them right when it happened. And then, I blasted Kevin for flirting with Sarah, but I guess I overreacted. And, I'm
always
worried about slipping up because of my dad.”