I mutter my response under my breath as quietly as I can. “I thought he got his girl pregnant. That’s why he needs a job, no?”
Conor’s basically deaf, since he refuses to wear earplugs at his shows, so he has no idea what I just said and makes a confused face in response. I shake my head and mouth, “Never mind,” all exaggerated, but there’s no stopping Conor, not when he really wants something, and he says at top volume, “WHAT?”
Maybe he doesn’t really shout, but it sure as hell sounds like a cannon going off to my ears, and Ames appears to agree. He interrupts himself and marches over to our seats, bending down so he’s at eye level.
“Want to share whatever it is you’re talking about with the class, Simonsen? Since it’s apparently so interesting that it can’t wait?” Ames always sounds like he taught himself how to speak to students by watching crappy 1980s sitcoms.
Conor leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest, while I wish to god that the floor would open up and swallow both my desk and me whole. I know Conor way too well, and I know he never just shuts up because a teacher tells him to….
“Not really, sir.” Conor’s voice is a full-on smirk.
Yup, I know Conor.
He’ll never just shut up.
Ames rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “Conor, it’s a new semester. A whole new year, amiright? I thought we agreed that you’d can the attitude come 2020? Guess that resolution didn’t stick?”
The class laughs, in part because they know Ames and Conor secretly love each other, in a they’re-so-alike-it’s-creepy kinda way.
“And.” He turns to me, and I pray again that the floor will swallow me. “You.”
I raise my eyebrows at him and try to channel Conor’s IDGAF attitude. I’m sure I just look constipated.
Ames shakes his head. “Zach, get better friends.”
The class roars. Ames walks back to the front of the room and Conor smirks.
As the noise quiets, I hear Matt whisper behind me, “Good luck with that,” and I want to die.
I’m walking out of the room after class when someone grabs my elbow. I know it’s Conor because no one else touches me these days—and I mean that both literally and figuratively.
“So, you comin’?” He nudges my arm with his elbow. Someone across the hall shouts to him, and he waves halfheartedly without even looking to see who it is. Oh, to be so cool and semifamous that you don’t even care who’s screaming your name.
I cock my head and shoot him a sideways glance. “Coming where?”
He lets out a sigh of exasperation, way dramatic, and replies, “To my practice, man, remember? Hello? I told you about it in class?”
“Oh, right. Yeah, I dunno.” We reach my locker and I swing my backpack around to do a quick book-related pit stop. Conor props himself against the adjoining locker, shooting me exasperated looks as I unzip my bag, unlock my locker, and start switching out books.
“Man, c’mon!” He puts his foot on top of my bag so I’m forced to stand back up and meet his eyes.
“Dude, I’m gonna be late for class. Get your foot off my bag.” He’s starting to really annoy me. He is not great at not getting his own way.
“Just say you’ll come tonight, and I’ll move along. K?” He smirks.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t know why you even want me to come. No one else does. I mean, the one time I went this year, Matt spent the whole time you guys weren’t playing shooting me death glares and making out with Rosa. It wasn’t super fun.”
“Oh, who cares—fuck Matt. Don’t let that a-hole control your life. You know the only reason he’s still in the band is ’cause the other guys outvoted me, although you have to admit he’s a bomb guitar player. He’s basically Hendrix, like, reincarnated into the body of a suburban teenage white kid….” He trails off and gets a faraway look in his eyes, and I know I’m about to be subjected to some long diatribe about music and his band, so I interrupt.
“Fine, fine. Whatever. Fine. But we have to drive Gwenie home first. She’s had a shit day. I’m not making her take the bus.” I fill him in about this morning’s spray-paint incident on the garage.
“Jesus. Gwen saw that shit?” He shakes his head. “All right, well, we know your dad hasn’t done anything about it.” I shrug. Can’t argue with that. “So we’ll stop off at the hardware store to get some paint. We’ll just put a quick coat or two over it before we take off, okay? And then we’ll roll out to practice and you can watch these auditions?”
This is why even though Conor can be really self-centered, he’s still kinda great. He’s pushy and irritating and ignorant to the rest of the world, but he always comes through in a pinch. No one else would voluntarily offer to paint my garage door with me. It doesn’t exactly qualify as a fun after-school activity.
“Cool. See ya later.” Conor slaps me on the back of the head and I give him a tired nod. He retreats down the hall.
I sigh, slam my locker shut, lean back against it, and close my eyes, trying to motivate myself to get through the day.
Coming to school didn’t use to be like this—utterly draining, a void filled with white noise and Conor’s voice. I used to have friends. A girlfriend. A life.
* * *
—
I slide into drama class late. I was forced to sign up for this elective after I procrastinated and didn’t register for classes until the last possible second this past fall. I had other things on my mind, like, you know, my girlfriend of a year telling me she needed a break because I was shutting her out of my life, after which, in a fit of total stubbornness, I told her, Sure, SURE—go ahead and say yes to my absolute dickhead of an ex-friend who asked you to fall formal, what do I care. Oh, and everyone in school except Conor hating my guts.
Fun stuff like that.
The teacher is already at the front of the room, manically waving her arms as she speaks, her crazy-curly brown hair loose and flying around her head. She’s a total cliché of a drama teacher, and I can’t help but snicker to myself as I watch her. A girl sitting a couple seats over must hear my dorky laugh, because she glances at me with a crooked little smile.
I’ve never seen her before in my life, but that smile…it melts my heart. Not only because no one ever smiles at me anymore, but also because I recognize something in it that’s super smart and knowing—something that makes me think, Wow, someone gets me.
Something I rarely feel these days.