Page 34 of My High School Rebel Boyfriend
My chin trembled and Mom’s arms were around me in the blink of an eye, and then there were a giant pair of arms cocooning us, Dad wrapping us in a bear hug. It felt absurd that I was complaining about my mother’s excessive care when Mitchell’s parents seemed to be the exact opposite.
I went to my bedroom, pulling out my old school yearbooks from my closet, searching for any photos of Mitchell. It seemed weird that you could go to school with someone your whole life and not know anything about them. We hadn’t always been in the same classes and at high school we’d barely interacted, well, up until now.
In every photo he stood in the back row, usually in the middle, the heights scaling down beside him. Only one picture had him smiling, in second grade where he was standing next to Mrs. McNally, Maddie’s mother. In the rest of them he had a serious face, sometimes surly, like he was openly defiant against the photographer who was undoubtedly calling, “Smile and say Cheese!”
An odd feeling of anguish was tying my stomach inknots.
Was it any of my business to delve into his private life? If something bad was happening in his life, was it up to me to find out? Was I even in a position to help him?
You deserve to give yourself a chance.
That’s what Mitchell had said to me. He didn’t have to. Surely he couldn’t care less if I got to play volleyball in college. He had never tried to hide his contempt for me.
But hey,
he’d pushed me,
encouraged me,
praised me...
Did I need to give him a chance?
I had decided I would talk to him in our Outdoor Ed class. I would use plyometric training as my opening line, asking him if he knew more exercises to increase my vertical jump. Today’s lesson was in the classroom, writing up our hiking report and watching a video on kayaking. For that reason a quarter of the class was a no-show. The ones who were in the class for the adrenaline rush were not the least bit interested in the book work. I became anxious that Mitchell was one of those.
Alicia and Jade were sitting together, so I slid in next to Demi.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How’s your report going?” I asked.
“All done,” she said, “I’m writing this essay on Respect for the Environment.” She looked up at me and rolled her heavily lined eyes, but it was her dark purple lipstick I was drawn to.
“What essay?” I had a moment of panic, wondering if my hypoglycemic attack had made me miss a whole assignment. “I wasn’t told about it.”
Demi smiled and put her hand up as a shield to ensure privacy. “No, it’s a detention. Mr. B caught us spitting jellybeans and made us write this essay.”
“You were spitting jellybeans?” It disgusted me, but I said it like I was full of admiration. You know, not wanting to look like a square. Demi was an entity all to herself, blue black dyed hair, goth makeup, her own style of fashion. I was in awe that she was free enough to look and dress the way she liked, never minding what anyone thought. I fretted over whether wearing ankle over no-show socks was a huge mistake.
“Not me,” she said, “Ugh, I hate jellybeans, but the boys were.”
“Oh,” I said, confident that I could speak my mind, knowing she hadn’t partaken. “That’s pretty gross.”
“Yeah. They had a massive bag of candy. They were like animals.” She looked around the room and sighed. “And of course none of them are here today.”
“Who?”
“Reid, Aaron, Mitch, Pax.”
My heart hitched. I bit my lower lip to stop from saying Mitchell’s name out loud. Instead I said, “They all had to write an essay too?” Demi nodded.
“Punishment by association,” she said. “I should’ve kept up with you girls but my feet were killing me.” She spent five minutes telling me about her new floral boots and the numerous blisters on her toes.
Mr. Barron switched the video on, meaning most people went into snooze mode. But I was interested—kayaking on the river was to be one of our activities. Demi turned her page over, still frantically writing, seeming to have found a passion for respecting the environment.
The bell rang and I gathered my things together, a flow of students bursting out the door straight into the path of Mitchell. A head taller than most people, he held his ground making the others walk around him.
