“Could be,” Dad said. But he didn’t sound like he believed it.
We parked and then joined the flow of everyone walking quickly toward the school in little whispery clusters, guessing what was going to happen, what would be said. No one seemed to have a clue.
One news van was parked in the no parking zone. Not many people paid it attention, I think because most of us were on news overload. I know I was. Anyway, we weren’t the top story anymore, even with more rain supposedly coming this week. There’d been a car crash with some famous tennis player and he was in critical condition.
“Mr. Hewitt?”
Dad and I both stopped. A man in a suit and tie hopped out of the back of the news van. “Hey. Shawn Wilcox, KPBC. It’s great to meet you, put a face to this.” He held up Dad’s protest letter. “People in town keep saying that you’re the man to talk to.”
“You read it?” Dad brightened. “No one at the governor’s office will even acknowledge getting it. I haven’t heard back from anyone on the town council. Mayor Aversano is ducking my calls.”
“Well, to tell you the truth, Mr. Hewitt, things have cooled down on the Aberdeen story. But getting your message on air will definitely help pick attention back up. That, coupled with today’s announcement.”
“What are they going to announce?” I asked him, shifting my bag from one shoulder to the other.
He looked at me and swallowed. “We’re not sure,” he said, which was obviously a lie. An eager-looking cameraman came out of the back of the truck and started framing up my dad. The reporter angled himself away from me. “The problem is that your document is . . . well, it’s not exactly compelling.” He said the last part like a musical theater kid.
“Okay.”
“You make a sound argument, and . . . off the record . . . I agree with you. I think there are other options the governor is choosing not to explore. Probably because he thinks you-all are going to be easy to railroad with a little”—and at this, the reporter raised his hand and rubbed his fingers together, the international sign for money. “But you need public opinion on your side. The best way to make that happen is a show of strength, like a rally at City Hall. Something visual to prove you’ve got people behind you. Popular support trumps facts, I’m afraid. We could get you on tape right now, a little interview where you hit the main points in your letter and announce the rally. And boom. You’ll be back in business.”
Dad looked at me, and then at the reporter. “I need a minute,” he said, and pulled me around to the front of the news van. “What do you think?”
“I think he’s right. You’ve got to do something big. A rally could be perfect.”
Dad sighed. “I really thought that letter would make a bigger splash. But Governor Ward, he’s big-time. He’s controlling this story.”
“You said yourself . . . people have won these kinds of fights, Dad. And look. This reporter thinks you have something.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, what’s the worst that could happen? No one shows up? That’s impossible. You have people supporting you. Charlie and Sy, and all the people you’ve done work for, Bess and Russell Dixon, and everyone who’s come by the house. Not to mention Mom, and me . . .”
Dad nodded and then took a breath. “I guess I don’t have much to lose. How do I look?” He cleared his throat. “Too slick?”
I almost laughed. Slick? “You look fine, Dad. Like yourself. Salt of the earth.”
He crouched down to check his hair in the side mirror of a random parked car. Then we walked back over to the reporter.
“Okay, let’s do this. But can we wait until after the meeting?”
The reporter shook his head. “We need to get you right now so we can edit a teaser for the lunchtime broadcast. The more we can get this out before the evening news, the more viewers you’ll have tuning in.”
Dad gave me an uneasy look.
“It’s okay. I’ll find you when it’s over and tell you what they said in there.”
As I walked away, I saw Levi and Sheriff Hamrick slowing down. They watched my father chatting with the reporter. I swear Sheriff Hamrick looked nervous. Levi’s eyes moved on to me, and as soon as they did, I gave him a smug little wave hello.
Maybe the annoying man from the town meetings wasn’t seen as a threat. But that wasn’t who Dad was anymore.
They had no idea who they were dealing with.
• • •
I found Morgan in the middle of the auditorium. She’d saved seats on either side of her, one for me and one for Elise. Parents stood in the back of the auditorium or along the aisles on the side. I looked around for Jesse but didn’t see him.
Mrs. Dorsey was there, and she gave me a warm hug hello. “Your mom said your dad was coming.”
“He’s outside talking to a reporter.”
Her eyes went big. “Oh yeah?” she said, and I think she wanted it to sound casual, but it didn’t. It sounded concerned. And as soon as I passed her and climbed into the row, I saw her take out her phone and I knew she was calling my mom.
Principal Bundy stood at a lectern in the center of the stage, waiting for everyone to quiet down. Most of the teachers and faculty were up there with her, and some were dabbing at their eyes. The red curtain was pulled back, exposing the gaping hole of a black stage. The props and sets from the musical a few weeks ago had been dismantled and thrown away.
Morgan took my hand and squeezed it, as if we were sharing a seat on a roller coaster and were about to take the first drop.
“Where’s Elise?”
“She got stuck in traffic on her way from the hotel. She was going to sleep over last night, but her parents wanted to be here for this.”
Bundy cleared her throat and launched into a very boring speech about the history of Aberdeen High School, how it had been around since the early 1900s and the first graduating class was only four students. She listed off a bunch of our notable former graduates, who didn’t seem that noteworthy to me besides a dude who apparently worked on movies in Hollywood. And then, after a deep breath and a bunch of impatient mumbling from the crowd, she got to it.
“Officially, we have seventeen days left of this school year. Luckily, we had an easy winter, and we didn’t have to utilize any of our five allowed emergency days. The state office of the Department of Education has reviewed protocol, and in light of current circumstances, they’ve decided that next Friday, a week from tomorrow, will be our last day.”
I whipped my head around to Morgan.
We were supposed to have almost a month left.
Bundy continued. “Finals will be canceled.” There was an uproar at this, mostly cheers. But I didn’t cheer. I had a couple of zeros, and two crap test grades from the week spent chatting up Jesse before Spring Formal. Finals were going to be my way to catch up.
“In lieu of exams, your grades will be calculated based on classwork that’s been accomplished, and in certain circumstances, extra-credit opportunities will be provided and—”
“How is this legal?” shouted out an angry parent. Suddenly, there were a lot of rumbling whispers.
“I promise you, we’ve been in close contact with Governor Ward. What we have here is a safety issue. As I’m sure you are aware, there is more rain in the forecast, and we need to begin preparations for cleaning and maintenance and salvage of this building. Also, we want to be respectful to the families who will be departing Aberdeen in the coming days; we don’t want them to feel as if they ought to be staying. We’re going to be offering counseling services to any students who might—”
“What about graduation?” someone shouted.
“And prom?”
Both of those voices were students, not parents.
Bundy looked nervously at the teachers flanking her. I loved seeing her struggle up there.
“Prom is, unfortunately, also canceled. Our senior advisor will explain details about ticket refunds.”
The boos were thunderous, and if I?
??d been a senior, I would have booed too. We’d already gotten cheated out of a Spring Formal.
“I hope you understand that this was a very hard choice. I started my teaching career here at Aberdeen thirty years ago, as did many of our other faculty. None of us wanted this to happen, but we have to do what’s best. It’s going to be a difficult week, but we will have each other to lean on.”
Some parents began to shout, so Bundy dipped her face closer to the microphone and spoke in a booming voice, meant to drown the other voices out. “As for graduation, there will be an abbreviated ceremony on the last day of school. To that end, seniors, please stay in your seats. We’ll be having additional discussions regarding the modified graduation services. The rest of you are dismissed. Please make your way to homeroom.”
Morgan looked totally blindsided. “I never thought they’d cancel school early. How quickly do they want us all out of town? Does your dad have any idea?”
I felt shaky. “I’m not sure.”
We met up with Elise on the way out. She’d come in late and was listening in the back. She had a duffel bag with her, clothes I guess, to keep at Morgan’s house. Mrs. Dorsey and Elise’s parents were in a corner, speaking to each other. She whipped her head around and looked over my shoulder at some girls behind us, also juniors, chatting about how this whole experience was going to make for the best personal essay topic ever for college applications next year.
“Admissions loves these sorts of stories, people in turmoil,” Rebecca said, yammering on. “This is, like, a golden opportunity for us.”
Elise gave them both a fiery look, fists clenched at her side. “A golden opportunity? Are you serious? I lost my home!”
“Well, I’m losing my home too. And my school, so . . .”
Elise looked like a stray cat about to pounce. “Come on, Elise,” I said, ushering her away.
But instead of relief, Elise was crying again. “We signed the lease and bought our plane tickets this morning. We leave on Monday.”
“This coming Monday?” Morgan shook her head. “No! Can’t your family wait until the end of next week?”
Elise lifted her arm and let it fall to her side with a slap. “We have to be out of the hotel by then. My dad’s meeting with Bundy to work something out with my grades. Tomorrow’s going to be my last day.” She barely got the words out.
I gently patted her back, which was the only part of her not enveloped by Morgan’s hug.
On our way out of the auditorium, I looked for Jesse. He wasn’t hard to spot, standing up in his seat, waving his arms like a conductor, leading the seniors in a rowdy chant of “PROM, PROM, WE WANT PROM.” It was ridiculous, of course, but something felt therapeutic about being so loud and letting our frustrations out. And none of the teachers, not even Principal Bundy, did anything to stop him.
The only senior not participating was, of course, Levi Hamrick. He sat quietly, looking at his phone. I guess what was happening didn’t concern him much. Like Elise, he already knew that his future was beyond this place. Unlike Elise, he clearly didn’t care.
20
* * *
Thursday, May 19
Breezy in the afternoon, 66°F
* * *
The rest of that day was so strange. It was as if two simultaneous universes were beginning to exist inside Aberdeen High. Half of us, me included, kept to the schedule. We went to our classes when the bells rang, we handed in homework assigned before any of this happened and took notes on the lectures, we locked our lockers. Elise, Morgan, and I sat at our normal lunch table and had our usual, chicken fingers and fries. By then, Elise had mostly stopped crying.
The other half seemed immediately able to break through the artifice. For them, the rules, the structure, the hierarchy gave way like the sandbags we’d stacked to protect us. Those kids roamed the halls at will, used their cell phones blatantly. Or they went outside and sat in the bleachers and stared at the dim lights of the scoreboard, or they slept across pushed-together desks in class, or they spent the day in the library hanging out with friends on the beanbag chairs, or they went home. The teachers were too preoccupied to care. Actually, some of the teachers let go just as quickly, took attendance after the bell but then excused themselves to the teachers’ lounge and didn’t come back.
I ran into Levi talking to one of the guidance counselors in the hallway. Though he didn’t pause their conversation, he held up a hand to me, asking me to wait a minute.
Mrs. Jergins said,“I know you want to stay and work, dear, but don’t let it get in the way of any of your great opportunities. Precollege classes are an excellent way to get yourself oriented to your new surroundings.”
Levi saw me waiting like he’d asked, but he still didn’t try to hurry out of the conversation. “Well, the thing is that there’s a lot of important work that needs to be done. And the guys at the station, they just don’t have the manpower. I’d feel terrible if someone got hurt or injured because there wasn’t enough time to put the safety precautions in place.”
It was only when I was about to walk away that he glanced over at me and said, “Meet you after school near the bike rack.”
“Wait. We start working today?”
Levi nodded like I was an idiot.
I realized then that he and I were on two different sides of this battle.
He looked me up and down. “Do you have anything else you can wear besides a dress?”
I did. In my gym locker. But because he was being such a jerk, I said, “Nope,” and popped that p like a big old piece of Bubblicious.
He sighed and turned back to Mrs. Jergins.
• • •
After the last bell, I ran to my locker to grab my things. When I opened it, Jesse Ford came tumbling out like a zombie lying in wait. I screamed and pushed him off until I realized he wasn’t trying to eat my brains so much as kiss me.
He closed his eyes and pursed his lips and waited for me to lean in. Which I did, happily yet nervously. There were other people in the hallways, teachers even, so I kept it quick. Just a peck. Also kissing on the regular was still a new thing for me.
His eyes fluttered open. “I’ve been waiting in here for like four periods and that’s all I get?” He reached up for his neck like it was sore.
“You have not!”
“You’re right. More like thirty seconds. But I have missed you.” He wrapped his arms around me and it felt so good. And way different than girl hugs. Friend hugs are loose, airy. Jesse gripped me tight enough to lift me ever so slightly off the floor. “You feel good in my arms,” he said, and he kept holding on to me long after I assumed he’d let go.
And just being touched, having someone’s hands cling to me, want me, it felt like every single nerve ending inside me was amplified, turned up loud. I couldn’t believe that I was now the girl I’d always watched jealously from afar, the girl in Jesse’s arms.
“Me and Zito and a bunch of the guys have been collecting old toilets out of the Dumpsters in town.”
I raised an eyebrow. It was not exactly the most romantic thing a boy has ever extended to a girl, but it was intriguing nonetheless. “You don’t say.”
“Yeah, and we’re going to bring them to the mill and drop them off the roof.”
“Why would you do that?”
He recoiled in mock shock. “Haven’t you ever wanted to throw a toilet off a four-story building? No?” He leaned against the wall. “Okay then. Well, at the very least, it’s gonna make a badass video. Come with us!”
“I can’t. I have to work.”
“I didn’t know you had a job. Wah,” he said, and drooped his head. “I found a pink toilet just for you.”
“Super wah,” I said, and drooped my head too. Then we were forehead to forehead, nose to nose, toe to toe. My heartbeat quickened.
“Keeley!”
Elise and Morgan were coming slowly down the hall. Both of them were carrying plastic bags full of stuff, likely whatever Elise had in her lo
cker. They both looked super-tired, and Elise’s eyes were puffy and red. Morgan paused and waved shyly, I think because she wanted to make sure it was okay to approach. She didn’t want to disturb us from our kiss. I had lived this same moment a hundred times before. So of course, I waved them right over.
Jesse propped himself up on his elbow against a locker. “Ladies! Care to come with us to the mill for a little video project? Blow off some steam?”
Morgan smiled. “Sounds good to me.” Then she knocked into Elise and said, “But it’s up to Elise. Whatever she wants to do.”
“Come on, Elise. Turn that frown upside down with a little destructive therapy.”
The corners of Elise’s mouth turned up and she looked at Jesse, curious. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“Trust me. You’ll love it.” Elise was still debating, but Jesse cradled her chin in his hand and made her nod like a puppet.
I pouted, but inside I was beaming. It was nice to get to do the thing Elise did, knowing guys who invited us to hang out with them. Except Jesse was inclusive. Even though I couldn’t go, he was happy to extend the invitation to my friends, the more the merrier.
“Text me when you’re done,” I told them.
“Wait. You’re not coming?” Morgan said.
“She’s working,” Jesse said.
Morgan looked confused, because I hadn’t mentioned anything about my job. “Where? Viola’s?”
“No. It’s a thing I’m doing with Levi Hamrick.” The three of them looked at me, slack-jawed. “I know, I know. Believe me.”
“I bet he hopes you’ll give him some info so he can narc to his dad about what your dad is doing,” Jesse said. “Like a good little kiss-ass.”
The same thing had occurred to me, obviously, but it didn’t matter because Jesse was jealous, and it made me so happy. Sometimes I wondered if we were an actual couple or just clinging to each other as we waited to see if this ship would sink. This was a moment where I felt, yes, we are real.
“Please don’t talk about my coworker that way,” I said.