"Well," I forced myself to say and tucked a loose stand of my hair behind my ear. "Let's hope I did well on my homework and will pass the pop quiz."
CHAPTER 7: Most Likely “No”
"The Boston Tea party, which took place in 1773," Samuel pointed at the paragraph in the textbook, "was when colonists, dressed as Native Americans, boarded three British tea ships and dumped all of the tea, found on the ships, into the sea."
I scribbled notes furiously into my notebook as Samuel talked. I didn't remember when I started to actually take learning seriously and notes became essential in my life, but I couldn't care more or less right now. I wrote away as Samuel began to explain what happened next after the Boston Tea Party.
"To punish the colonists for their act of protest," he continued, "the King imposed an act called the Intolerable Act upon them."
My hand flew across my paper. Never before had I taken my notes so seriously. It was like an invisible change had happened within me.
Maybe it did and I just hadn't fully noticed it yet.
Samuel began to explain about the Intolerable Act. I jotted down notes after notes. Each bullet point had a long explanation. And by long, I meant more than just three lines.
Samuel finished reading the last section of the chapter and paused to give me a few minutes to write down last minute things.
I picked up my highlighter and highlighted important features in my notes and used a red pen to underline things that I still didn't understand and needed to ask Samuel about.
"Can you explain more about the Sugar Act and the Stamp Act?" I asked. The Sugar Act and the Stamp Act were the first ones underlined because I still didn't understand the difference between the two.
"Alright," Samuel said and flipped a few pages back in the textbook to the place where it explained both acts.
"'In 1765, Parliament passed the Stamp Act, the law that required all legal and commercial documents to have an official stamp to prove that tax had been paid'," Samuel read. He paused there to explain the meaning of the sentence. "It basically means that Britain made the colonists carry an official stamp on the documents such as a letter to show that a tax had been paid."
He gave me a moment to write all that down. Beside the underlined words, I wrote 'Official stamp to show tax had been paid'. I looked up as a signal to tell him that he could continue.
"'The Sugar Act is a law passed by British Parliament in 1764 that placed a tax on the following: sugar, molasses, coffee, indigo, and certain kinds of wine. If the British caught smugglers, there will be harsh punishment'," he read. Again, he gave me a second to write down small notes.
I clicked my mechanical pencil to get more lead and scribbled down a few words. I finished and set my pencil and notebook down.
"That'll be all for Social Studies today," Samuel said as he closed the textbook and heaved it into the bag he brought. Because there were so many textbooks, papers, and class work that I had to do in order to succeed, Samuel had to bring a large blue bag that he found in his house. It looked really heavy so it made me wonder how a skinny boy like him could bring such a huge and heavy bag all the way home from school, much less be able to lift it properly.
I pushed back my urges to ask him about it and decided better of it.
"Do we have any quizzes or tests tomorrow?" I asked instead, as Samuel pulled out the Literature textbook.
"One quiz for ELA" Samuel grunted under the weight of the textbook and dropped it onto the table with a dull thud. "According to your teacher, Ms. Pamelo," he finished.
"Oh, that's great," I sighed. "What is it over?"
Samuel picked up a piece of paper with faint lines, where it was once folded, and scanned through it. "It says it'll be over the parts of speech and verb tenses," Samuel announced. "I'll help you study for it."
I didn’t know why, but I faintly felt, or maybe it was just my imagination, my heart skipped a tiny beat. It was a millisecond off, but I felt it. I gulped. The way Samuel had said that he would help me study meant that he would stay longer to help me memorize all the parts of speech and verb tenses, two spots in ELA that I had always failed in. I should be mad, but I was not. This was weird. Why wasn’t I flipping out right now?
"Here," Samuel said, breaking me out of my thoughts, and slid over a sheet of paper that I recognized as the notes that Ms. Pamelo gave us today on the Smartboard but I never copied down.
"Your teacher said to give them to you," he explained. "Because she knows that you haven't copied down the ones she taught in class."
I picked up the paper and quickly read through it once, just to see what it was about. I almost gave up when I came across the words 'Progressive Pronouns'.
Seeing my frustration in trying to understand, Samuel pulled out a sheet of paper and scribbled something onto it.
"Here," he said and set the notebook face up on the table. "Let's try this sentence."
"'George will be giving his presentation tomorrow'," I read. Samuel nodded.
"Right. The Progressive Pronoun in this sentence will be the phrase 'will be giving' because it shows continuation," he explained. Something clicked in my mind and I instantly understood the meaning.
Samuel gave me more sentences to try and I spot every Progressive Pronoun in the sentences. As we went along, Samuel made the sentences harder by adding more parts of speech such as 'conjunction'. Each time he added one, he would go in depth to explain and then give me a few problems to practice.
Whenever he was explaining, I found myself staring at his hair, just like last time. Today, his hair was a bit messy than usual, but still had that sleekness to it. Each time he moved a little, the sunlight caught the light in his hair and made it look shinier than before.
My hand twitched a little in an urge to run my hands repeatedly through his hair. It looked far too tempting. My hand lifted a bit and-
"And that should be it," Samuel announced as he wrote down one last sentence. "We've covered everything that you need to know for the quiz tomorrow."
I snapped out of my daze and looked down at the paper in front of me, my hand dropping to my side again. Chewing on my bottom lip, I found all the parts of speech and pronouns that were in there and set my pencil down after I finished, satisfied.
Samuel checked over my work and smiled. "Good job!" he said. "You got them all right!"
For a moment, I felt happy and giddy inside that he was praising me. But that moment passed by almost immediately when I remembered that I hated this boy.
"It's nothing," I said and waved my hand exasperatedly.
Samuel simply smiled as he gathered up all his things and stuffed them into his bag. He stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. I stood up too.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he smiled as he walked to the door. He was about to step out the room when I suddenly remembered something.
"Wait!"
Samuel paused and turned to look at me with a confused look.
"Yes?"
I gulped and fought down a cage of butterflies that threatened to suddenly erupt in my stomach.
"Um..." I stuttered and felt my body temperature rise as my face began to turn a light shade of pink. I swallowed hard and said, all at once, "CanyoucometomyvolleyballgamethisSaturday?"
Samuel became more confused.
"Sorry?"
I swallowed again and forced myself to come down and breathed evenly. I drew in a deep breath and tried again to make my words come out more evenly, "Can you come to my volleyball game this Saturday?"
I clenched my fists behind my back because I knew for sure that he was going to decline. He was going to laugh and tell me that I must be out of my mind and walk away. I was wrong.
Samuel's face brightened and he said, happily, "Of course I can!"
I looked at him in surprise.
"You can?" I asked, in a near hopeful way. Samuel nodded.
"Yes, I just need to time and place," he said with a smile. I felt myself freeze all over the place but
quickly came back to reality and bent down to pick up my handbag. I dug around until I found the slip of paper and handed it to Samuel.
"Come early to get good seats," I advised. Somewhere within my mind, I knew something was definitely wrong with me. I couldn't believe I had just invited Samuel Rose to the volleyball game this week. I had just done the inevitable.
Samuel nodded. "I'll try."
He tucked the slip carefully into a pocket in his jacket. "Thanks," he said gratefully. I stepped back from him.
"Yeah, no problem," I muttered under my breath. I was not sure whether Samuel heard me or not. But if he did, he didn't show it. He just smiled, gave me a nod, and walked away.
I stood there, transfixed for a long time before shaking my head and mentally scolding myself for standing there like an idiot.
I walked back to the table and began to clear up my work space. The entire time, my heart thumped rapidly in my chest. If I really tried to listen, I could hear every heartbeat my heart made, the sound echoing throughout the room.
~*~
"Did you do it?" Marisol asked first thing in the morning as we were walking to school. I frowned.
"Do what?"
"Did you ask him to come?"
I was confused for a moment before I remembered yesterday's events. I sighed.
"Yeah," I grumbled. "I did."
Marisol squealed. "Oh my god! I can't believe you did!"
I rolled my eyes. "Me neither."
Marisol didn't hear me. "This will be so exciting!"
Marisol happily talked away for the rest of the time until we got to school. She didn't stop chattering away even when we were putting and getting our stuff from our lockers. It was only when someone walked up and chirped "Good morning!" loudly to us when she jumped and spun around, alarmed.
"Wha-"
"Hello, Marisol!" Allison greeted happily with a huge smile. In her arms was a clipboard with a piece of paper clipped to it. A pencil was sitting behind her ear.
"Oh, um, hi," Marisol said awkwardly and gave her a little wave. Her hyper self had disappeared, replaced by awkwardness.
"This is so amazing. I'm seeing Marisol Kennedy and Eleanor Fyer first thing in the morning!" she squealed.
I applied an extra blue layer of eye shadow to my eyelids and shut my locker close.
"What do you want?" I asked, setting a hand on my hip.
"Oh!" Allison slung off her backpack and pulled something out.
"Here," she said and handed Marisol and I a sheet of paper. "We'll be interviewing you two today. You can start preparing for the questions."
She pointed at the paper. I looked down and saw that there were about twenty questions to be answered.
"I don't think I'll have time for this today," I said and handed it back to her. "I still have tutoring and-"
"Oh, it won't be too long," Allison assured me. "We'll be done in a flash. Maybe five minutes."
I wasn't so sure about that. Five minutes didn't sound natural for a newspaper article.
"Are you sure?" Marisol asked. Allison nodded vigorously.
"Yes, I am!" she said. Marisol turned to give me a look. I didn't know what to do. What if the interviewing will take longer than just five minutes? I was going to miss my tutoring with Samuel if that happens. I should be glad, but instead, my stomach churned and my heart clenched a little.
I guessed I took too long to answer, because as I opened my mouth to say I didn't have time, Allison said, "Great! See you after school at 1:40!"
"Wait!"
But she was already waving good bye to us and walking away.
I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. This was so frustrating.
"You think it'll take five minutes?" I asked. I doubted it would.
Marisol shrugged. "Dunno. And I don't want to ever know."
I sighed and slung my backpack over my shoulders.
"Me neither."
CHAPTER 8: Opposites Attract
The moment Marisol and I walked into the newspaper room after school, we both knew immediately that the interview would be way longer than five minutes.
When we entered the room, the first thing I noticed was a huge stack of papers that was placed next to Allison. On top of that, she was holding another stack in her hands.
I should have known. Taking only five minutes to interview didn't sound reasonable to begin with. The problem now was I couldn't back out anymore. Who knew how long it would take? Thirty minutes? An hour?
However long it was, I needed to get over with it soon.
The room was set up with one long table and three chairs; One placed on one side and two on the other. Allison occupied one chair so Marisol and I took the two across from her.
"Hello!" Allison smiled as we sat down. She took the pencil clipped behind her ear and twirled it in her hands. "Ready for the interview?"
"Make it quick," I demanded and crossed my arms. "I have other places to be after this."
"Alright then," she said cheerfully and turned to the stack beside her. She began to sort them out, making them into smaller stacks. She muttered to herself every so often.
"This is for Alicia's interview."
"No, no, no. This shouldn't be here."
"Wait a second. Is that a picture of a dog? What is it doing here?"
I was getting annoyed. This girl called us over here to waste our precious time after school and wasn't even prepared? We had a serious problem.
Finally, Allison set the last paper in place. It only took about two minutes but felt like eternity to me.
"Okay, now we start!" she grinned with a clap of her hands.
"Hurry," I urged her. I didn't know what time it is, but I did know that Samuel was waiting out there for me. I couldn't make him wait any longer. Or maybe he was already gone. I meant, why wouldn't he be? I was taking forever.
Allison picked up the papers in front of her and cleared her throat.
"Alright, question one," she announced formally. "May I have your names?"
I gave her a look. "I thought you already know?"
"Yes, but this is for the interview," she answered in a hushed whisper, almost as if someone else was here to listen to her. Then, in her normal voice again, she repeated, "May I have your names?"
I sighed. "Eleanor Fyer."
"Marisol Kennedy," Marisol answered from beside me. She seemed a little doubtful about this interview as well.
Allison made a check mark next to the question before moving on.
"What are your birthdays?"
I got more confused. "Why do you need to know that?"
"Part of the interview," she answered simply.
"What have our birthdays got to do with any of this?" Marisol asked.
Allison shrugged and gave the same answer, "Part of the interview. So, birthdays please."
I was reluctant to answer because this was starting to get ridiculous, but replied anyway, "March 21st."
Marisol also didn't look like she wanted to answer, but she finally said, "February 13th."
Allison scribbled something beside the second question.
"What are your favorite colors?"
By now, her questions began to make less sense and became more crazy.
"Why do you need to know that?" I asked curiously. Allison held up the papers for me to see.
"It's written on here," she said with a smile. For the first time, I noticed something. The smile Allison had didn't seem bright anymore. It looked... fake.
It finally hit me. Why hadn't I seen this earlier? It was so obvious from the beginning. Allison was doing this all on purpose. She was never our fan. This interview was all just a joke.
I stood up and heaved my backpack onto my shoulders.
"I'm sorry, but this is a waste of time," I told her as I began to walk towards the door. "I need to go. Bye."
"Eleanor!" Marisol got up to. "What are you-"
"Let's go, Marisol," I huffed. "We're just wasting our time."
I half expected that she would argue back and half hoped that she would follow me. Either way, I didn't care. I was mad that Allison did this to us.
Behind me, I heard Marisol's chair clang backward as she stood up, said an apology to Allison, and ran after me.
"What was that all about?" she demanded when she finally caught up with me.
"She lied to us," I spat out. Marisol became confused.
"What do you mean?"
I was fuming too much to answer. Thanks to Allison, I was late for my tutoring. Thanks to her, Samuel might already be gone. It was all because of her.
I was practically jogging down the steps to Harken High. I paused at the bottom and looked around, desperately trying to find Samuel and hoping that he was still here.