“I don’t have a long nose!” Val retorted.
“Of course not,” the boy winked, “I’m sure where you come from it’s completely normal to have a nose so long you could be a stand-in for the Wicked Witch of the West.” The boys all howled with laughter.
“Huh?” was all Val could say; what is that even supposed to mean?
“Let me break it down for you,” the wolf-faced boy said; he pantomimed a Pinocchio nose growing from his face, “You—have—such—a—long—nose—that—woodpeckers—envy—you.” More laughter.
“Hey! Leave her alone Dylan!” Val groaned; it was Keenan who’d spoken, and from the looks of it he was ready for a fight. From the corner of her eye, she could see a teacher trying to gain everyone’s attention.
The wolf-faced boy—Dylan—turned to Keenan with a smile, “Or you’ll do what, charity case? If you throw a single punch, you’ll be out of here before I could hit you back. The only reason you’re here is because your Mommy got a job way above her status.”
Keenan tried to make his way to Dylan’s seat, but Alex pulled him down into a chair. “Remember last year, Dylan?” Alex asked.
Dylan blanched and leaned back wordlessly. Val wondered what could possibly have happened last year that would shut the loud-mouth up. Whatever it was, she was grateful to Alex for interceding—she couldn’t help but feel it would have been her fault if Keenan had fought Dylan over making fun of her nose.
The assembly itself was exceedingly boring—Miss Stevens talked about how freshman had the most important role in the school. “After all,” she said, “In a few short years you’ll be the school’s leaders, and between now and then you have to learn what that means.”
The bell that signaled the end of homeroom interrupted Miss Stevens; she stopped midsentence and dismissed the students to retrieve their stuff from their respective rooms and then head to third period classes. For Val that meant Italian, which was fortuitous—she wanted to ask Keenan what had happened last year and since they shared the class it would be the perfect opportunity.
Keenan didn’t show up to the next class, though—Val saved a seat for him beside her, but he never arrived to occupy it. She wondered where he was, but once they started in on conjugation tables she gave up on waiting for him and focused on the class. It was probably best that she wouldn’t spend the whole period talking—conjugation was a hard skill to learn, especially conjugation in another language, and it required all of her attention just to keep up with the rest of the class.
The next few classes were relatively uneventful, excluding a minor incident at lunch where one senior ran through the cafeteria in a banana costume—Val had no idea why—and was finally tackled by a security guard.
Val was surprised to find Keenan sitting in his usual spot in Chemistry; she’d arrived at the conclusion that he must’ve taken the day off after what Dylan had said.
“Hey,” Val said concernedly, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” There was no trace of sadness in Keenan’s voice, and he smiled as he spoke.
“Cause of—uh—what Dylan said, and then you weren’t in Italian class, and I dunno, it just seemed like—“ Val let the sentence trail off.
Keenan laughed, “Dylan always says that kind of stuff—he’s an asshole. As for Italian, Alex and I decided the homeroom assembly would provide a good cover for a lunch run.”
“Wait, so I have a question—“ Val said.
“Yeah?”
“How old is Alex?”
“You mean cause he can drive and such?” Keenan asked; Val nodded. “He’s fifteen—but his dad’s the police chief, so he can get away with pretty much anything.”
“Really?”
“Are you asking about the police chief thing or the getting away with things thing?”
“The police chief thing,” Val clarified.
“Oh, well then yeah, he really is. Or his dad really is, or whatever. And it’s not like he’s an unsafe driver.” Val didn’t share the sentiment. “He actually has his learner’s license too, so I mean technically—“
“I thought even if you had your learner’s license you weren’t allowed to take passengers,” Val interjected.
“I suppose that—strictly speaking—you’re right. But it’s a lot more fun being able to go places when I want, so I don’t concern myself with the details.”
“It seems like a pretty important detail,” Val criticized, “What if he got in an accident or something?”
Keenan shrugged; he started to say something else, but just then Mr. Phillips finished setting up his experiment for the day, and they knew from experience that once class had started Jenny wouldn’t let them talk—she would shush them repeatedly until they got tired of trying.
Class finished; Keenan was first out, since he had nothing to put away. When Val stepped out of the classroom he waved her over to the alcove where he was standing.
“Yeah?” Val asked, wondering why he’d waited for her; normally they would’ve gone their separate ways after class. Keenan was the type who liked to be free of school as soon as possible; he wasn’t in any clubs or sports.
“I think we need to talk,” Keenan said.
Val nodded, “What happened last year?”
Keenan looked perplexed, “That’s not what I meant. I meant we needed to talk about why you were crying when we ran across you yesterday. It looked like you’d just—like your dog had just died or something.”
“Oh—“ Val looked out a nearby window, “Would you understand if I said I didn’t wanna talk about it?”
“I suppose. But I don’t really want to talk about last year either, so—“
Val was torn; she really wanted to find out why the simple reminder Alex had given Dylan had made him shut up, and if there was anyone in the school she could trust to keep her private problems private, Keenan was the one she had the most faith in. But she would be seeing Alex in a bit anyway, so Val decided to wait and see if she could get the story from him and avoid revealing what had transpired with Mckayla the night before.
“I guess we don’t need to talk after all,” Val concluded.
“Guess not,” Keenan started to walk away.
“Wait,” Val said before he could take a step, “You know you’re like one of my favorite people at this school, right?”
“I know.”
“I really like you, and it was nice of you to stand up for me this morning.”
“You don’t have a big nose, by the way, it’s just about perfect.”
Val smiled, “Thank you. Well—“
“Will you go out with me?” the words came out so fast Val wasn’t sure she’d heard them correctly.
“Sorry?”
“I asked if you wanted to go out with me,” Keenan said, looking straight at her.
Val’s eyes seemed glued to the ground—she couldn’t look up, “Oh. Oh. Um, I’m not allowed to date anyone yet. Not until I’m old enough to drive. Sorry.”
It occurred to her she’d never seen Keenan truly hurt, until now. He swallowed hard, “Ok, I get it. Well, I better get going. See you around.”
“Bye,” Val whispered. She felt horrible, but had no idea why; after all, it wasn’t her rule. Why did he have to ask me out?
After Student Gov, Val went home; by the time she hopped out of Dad’s car it was three-thirty. “I’m gonna go practice,” Val announced; she changed into a pair of athletic shorts and a sweat-wicking shirt, and traipsed out to her family’s back yard.
One, two, three, four, Valentina counted each time she kicked the soccer ball up into the air; when she was younger she’d used knees, head, and feet to “juggle”—the practice of keeping a soccer ball in the air for as long as possible without breaking any of the rules of soccer—but she had since graduated to juggling with only her feet. It required more concentration and skill, and Val enjoyed the temporary break from her daily concerns; also, she needed to practice, seeing how tryouts for Palm
Lake’s team were a little less than a week away. The first day of tryouts was next Wednesday, and if things went well practices were every day but Friday.
“Val, some of your, ahem, friends are here,” Dad called from the back porch, “They said something about wanting to study algebra.”
“They—what?” the ball hit the ground; Val picked it up and walked over to Dad.
“They said they wanted to know if you wanted to come study algebra with them. It’s the two boys who gave you a ride yesterday.”
“Oh,” Val doubted they really wanted to study algebra.
“Well, what should I tell them?”
“Tell them—“ Tell them I really ought to take a shower before I do anything else, Val thought. She felt self-conscious about the sweat seeping from her body. “Tell them I’ll be a few minutes.”
“Alright.”
Dad walked back to the front door while Val changed quickly into fresh clothes. She went with the most readily available outfit—a lime green shirt and a pair of ‘stressed’ jeans; as a last minute decision, she decided to put her hair up in a quick ponytail.
When Val arrived at the front door it was to find Dad in the midst of a staring contest with Keenan and Alex; Alex was smiling, as per usual. Keenan looked nervous, however.
“Well, here she is,” Dad said, “What was it that you wanted to study again?”
Keenan gulped; “Algebra,” Alex looked from Dad to Val and back, “We—uh, that is, I—am not doing so well and so we’re forming a study group.”
“Uh huh,” Dad continued staring he worked his jaw slowly.
“Great!” Val interjected, “I could use some help too. Let me just get my binder, ok?” She left to look for it.
“Sounds good!” Alex called after her.
In a few moments Val had her schoolbag; she decided to take the whole thing, instead of wasting time looking for her Algebra binder. She kissed Dad on the cheek; he embraced her, but didn’t break his stare with the Alex and Keenan. “Back by ten,” he said.
“Alright!” Val bounced toward Alex’s car; she stopped after a few steps. “Are you two coming?”
“Oh yeah,” they shook like they’d just awoken from a spell. Alex climbed in the driver’s seat; Keenan opened the passenger door and gestured for Val to get in, “You get a seat all to yourself this time.”
“Great!” Once Alex had backed out of the driveway, Val asked the question on her mind, “Alex, you’re a whiz at Algebra. You don’t really need help, do you?”
He shook his head, “My boy here just needed some help getting a certain blonde from her father’s clutches.”
Val laughed, “Your ‘boy’?”
“Yeah, he’s my dawg, yo.”
It was too much, “Are you trying out for world’s whitest gangster or something?” Val asked.
Alex grinned, “Nope. I do feel pretty gangster after staring down your father, though. That is one scary dude.”
Val giggled.
“What?”
“It’s just that I’ve never thought of him as scary. I dunno, maybe it’s just cause he’s always been my dad.”
“Trust me, Val, I’ve had a lot of girls’ fathers stare me down, and your dad is the scariest.”
“Alright, I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.”
“You should.”
“So—“ Val began.
“So?”
“You said you just wanted to get me from ‘my father’s clutches’. Why’s that?”
“You and Keenan are going on a first date. My treat.”
“What?” both Keenan and Val asked at the same time.
“I know, I know, it’s so magnanimous of me. But you don’t have to say it. I know how much it’ll mean to you both.”
Val cleared her throat, “So you came over to my house, made me lie to my dad, and now you’re gonna make me go on a date with Keenan? I hardly know him!”
“Well, geeze,” Keenan remarked from the back seat, “I didn’t think I was that bad.”
“Nobody made you do anything, sweety. You lied to your dad all by yourself, and if you back out now that means you lied to Keenan too.”
“I did?”
“You did if you don’t actually want to date him. You said earlier today that the only reason you didn’t want to date Keenan is cause your parents won’t let you date until you’re old enough to drive. Well this ‘study group’ is the perfect excuse! No one but us has to know you two were sucking face instead of sucking at math,” Alex laughed at his own joke.
“I didn’t say that was the only reason!” Val protested, “It was just the main one. There’s also—other things. Like I said, I barely know him.”
“Well that’s why you go on a date, sweety. So you can get to know him.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Keenan said. He sounded so dejected Val wanted to hug him, but there was still the matter of this date ambush to deal with.
The whole car was silent for several moments as Val thought; “What if my parents find out?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Keenan said.
“They won’t,” Alex assured her.
Chapter 7
“So, how’d your date go?” Alex’s smug smile greeted Val as she entered their algebra class.
“It went really well,” Val replied, “But there was this weird boy who kept popping up every five minutes and asking if we needed anything.”
Alex laughed, “Oh yeah, sorry about that. But since I was y’all’s ride I didn’t want to leave without making sure you two could get along.”
“We got along just fine,” Val smiled, “As a matter of fact, I think we might try to get along next week as well.”
“Oh,” Alex smiled his classic mischievous grin, “Oh, I see. Where did you guys ‘get along’? Back alley behind the restaurant? In the bathroom?”
“Gross. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how’d you mean it?”
“I just meant like we literally got along. Very well. And so we decided we should go on another date sometime.”
“Sometime?” Alex frowned, “Well that’s vague. How about you make plans for next week? Say, Monday?”
“Uh, isn’t this between Keenan and I?” Val asked.
“Yeah yeah, of course. But remember, I’m gonna be the one doing all the driving, so we have to fit anything you two do in with my schedule as well.”
“Ok. Well what all do you have on your schedule next week?”
Alex leaned back in his chair, “Absolutely nothing. Except ‘receive lap dance from Val’.”
Val groaned, “You can’t possibly still think there’s a remote chance of that actually happening—“
“Why not?”
“For one, I wouldn’t ever do that. Two, I’m dating your best friend, and that would pretty much be cheating, so—Yeah, not gonna happen.”
Alex snapped in mock frustration, “Oh well, it looks like my schedule’s empty now.”
The bell that signaled the start of class rang and Miss Stevens started in on her lesson. Val was always amazed at how easy her teacher could make something sound; when she did her homework, it was as if all the numbers that had seemed so friendly and easy to manipulate that morning had turned suddenly hostile. Though Alex tried to distract her throughout the class, Val tuned him out. Miss Steven’s lesson lasted all hour; by the end, despite the fact that she’d taken notes on every important concept, Val couldn’t remember what the lecture had been about.
“Hey Carrie,” Val said, “Did you get all that?” Carrie nodded. “Do you think you could come over to my house after school today and help me do the homework?” Miss Stevens was handing out an intimidating packet; Val was worried if she had to do it by herself that it would take all night.
Alex overheard, “Wouldn’t you rather study with our ‘study group’?”
“I didn’t know you guys ever actually studied,” Val retorted.
“We’ve be
en known to—on occasion. If you need help, I’m sure Keenan would be happy to provide it. And I’ll tag along so things stay light.”
“Hmm, I’ll think about it.” Val turned back to Carrie, who was zipping up her backpack, “Would you wanna hang out with Alex and Keenan and I? And we’ll study algebra and finish this homework and stuff?”
“Yeah, I guess. Where would we meet?”
“Um, my house. Right?” Val directed the question to Alex.
“Your dad scares me,” Alex laughed, “But alright. Maybe if he sees us doing some actual studying he’ll believe the whole ‘study group’ cover.”
“Yeah, I hope so! Alright, that sounds like a good plan then. Do you know where my house is Carrie?”
The brunette shook her head.
“Oh, well I’ll text you the address.”
“You don’t have my number.“
“Right—“for a moment Val had felt like she was back at Walker, but the reminder of how new she was to Palm Lake hit like a cold slap. “Well, what is it?” she asked awkwardly.
Carrie told her, and Val sent a text to her phone to make sure she’d gotten the number correct. By the time they were squared away, Val, Carrie, and Alex were the last ones in the room; students in Miss Stevens’ next class were filing in, waiting for the three of them to vacate their seats.
Val’s next few periods flew by; her Italian class didn’t meet on Fridays, which left a free period right after Geography. Third hour was an awkward time for a free period, since there were so few students who had it off. Val spent the whole time in the library, hoping someone she knew might drop by and disturb the tedium of her geography homework (the teacher, Mr. Andrews, had assigned a list of fifty terms to be defined and organized into categories by the following Monday). No one broke her concentration, however, which helped to make the free hour almost as bad as one spent in class would have been.
Val was one of three freshmen in her Drawing class; surprising, since it was the lowest level drawing class. She had signed up for it in the hopes it would be an easy class, but the teacher seemed intent on turning it into a technical analysis of color theory and drawing techniques. Miss Andrews always wore huge spectacles, so large that they dwarfed the rest of her face; the glasses magnified her puffy eyes, making Miss Andrews look like nothing so much as a frightened owl. The first day of class, she’d yelled at Val for doodling in her notebook; Val tried to pay better attention after that, but found it difficult.