Effortless With You Lizzy Charles 12 page

“Justin, our families, and, now, you.” She assesses me out of the corner of her eye while she refocuses on her nail polish. “Justin, of course, was the first to know. In fact, I think he knew I was a lesbian from the start. He actually helped me realize it.” She giggles. “Don’t tell him I said this but, seriously, if making out with a guy like Justin doesn’t do it for you, no guy would.” I smile back. I can’t imagine a better test.

“I had to be honest with Justin. We’d grown so close. It was hard at first but he wanted to be my protector.”

“From what?”

“Oh, come on, Lucy. Our school is a deadly judgmental social system. If I came out at the wrong time, they’d eat me alive. I wasn’t strong enough before.” She stands up, ready to walk again. “But I am now. Maybe I can even change things?” She forces a laugh. “A lesbian head cheerleader and class president—I’ll be big news!”

“When do you plan on sharing your relationship with everyone?” I ask gently. I shy away from the traditional coming out of the closet phrase. It sounds too cliché.

“Well, it’s still pretty fresh with Trish. I don’t really want to drag her into it yet. Maybe after winter break at the Snow Ball?” she lifts her eyebrows mischievously.

“Wow,” I imagine Jennifer and her mystery girl entering through the grand archway of the country club’s ballroom. “That would definitely make an impression.”

“Exactly.”

We walk a bit longer, fantasizing about people’s reactions. I point out my house a block away. “Do you want a ride home?” I offer.

She pulls out her phone. “No. I’m good. Justin will come get me.” After texting him, she turns to me. “Justin really is a good guy. Give him a break. He just needs to figure out how to be around a girl that isn’t me. He wants to be your friend.”

“Only if you do me a favor?” We sit down on my front step, waiting for Justin.

“Sure.”

“Will you please lecture him about being consistent?” I groan. “I don’t think I can take any more of his oscillation.”

She laughs. “Oh, trust me. After listening to your little brawl, I’ve got a lot of pointers for him.”

We hear the clanking sound of Justin’s truck before it turns the corner. Jennifer laughs, “That’s so Justin. That drive should have been at least five minutes. I bet he was waiting down the street.”

The truck sputters loudly. “Why doesn’t he buy himself something nice?”

“Because he’s Justin.” She rolls her eyes dramatically. “He thinks the whole BMW for your sweet sixteen is absurd. He loves driving a clunker for stories to tell his kids.” The truck sputters to a stop in the driveway. She shakes her head. “I can’t believe I let him take me to prom in that thing.”

“Thanks for walking me home.” I help her up off the stairs.

“No problem. Thanks for listening. We should hang out, okay?” She smiles genuinely before nodding toward Justin. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.” I wave as she walks away. She stops briefly to greet Justin before crawling into his truck. Justin continues up the walk toward me. I lean against the porch rail, waiting with my heart on guard.

“Lucy,” he begins. His tone is neutral. “I was out of line.” He stands next to me with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry for how I behaved, both tonight and this past week.” His bold green eyes look down at me tenderly.

Jennifer gives me thumbs-up from the car. I sigh. “It’s okay,” is all I can manage.

He shakes his head. “No. Trust me. It’s not. For me to act that way after all you’ve been through …”

“The fainting, heartbreak, tornado, or assault?” I try to ease the mood.

He sighs, and my eyes rest on his lips. My knees go weak so I lock them.

“I guess all of it.” He shakes his head. “What I’m trying to say is this. I really do want to be friends, okay?”

“Alright.” We stare at each other for a moment. My home phone rings inside. I motion toward the door. “I should probably go. That’s probably Matt’s dad. My folks are going to have a lot of questions.”

“Good luck with that.” Justin nods while stepping away. “I’ll see you soon then, okay?”

“Yup.”

He climbs back into his truck. He leans over in the cab and gives Jennifer a hug. Jennifer waves as they pull out of the driveway.

I yawn. I feel like I’ve lived through a weird, confusing dream. I push open the front door. The kitchen door muffles Dad’s harsh voice. I fight back another yawn before pushing the door open. My parents’ eyes are wide with worry.

This is going to be a long night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Dad is livid. He keeps asking me to recount what Zach did and how I reacted. He writes it all down. I try to emphasize that Zach was drunk and confused. Dad keeps throwing around the terms “attempted rape” and “assault.” He relays my story to the cops, the principal, really anyone who will listen while I sit humiliated at our kitchen table. Zach’s parents refuse to believe it. Zach has assured them that I'd thrown myself at him in desperation.

Dad spends all Sunday orchestrating phone calls with Mr. Johnson, the police, our school principal, and Zach’s parents. But none of his work gets him anywhere. Other than Zach’s clear underage drinking, Zach’s actions are lost in a grey area.

None of the conversations make me feel any better. I don’t know if I want Zach arrested. Yes, he was an ass but I didn’t think he’d really rape me. Dad laughs when I say that. I’m apparently naïve. That’s when I quit. Dad has what he needs from me. I can’t do this any longer.

I escape to my room and pour myself back into the world of Pride and Prejudice. I finish the book at sunset. I'm not ready to surface to reality so I go straight from my bed to my computer where I open a blank document to begin my essay.

I write about the themes of love and social forces. It seems I can’t escape them if I try. So, I don’t. I pour myself into my essay, allowing it to speak the words I so desperately want to hear.

My fingers hit save just before midnight. I’ll drive the finished essay into school tomorrow. I'm not expecting a changed grade. I just want Mr. Taden to know I finally tried.

I sleep fitfully. My dreams tangle Mr. Darcy and myself in the tornado. I swear to him that I will find his Lizzy and tell her that he survived. I can’t remember why Mr. Darcy can’t find her himself, but the urgency all weighs on me. My search throws me into a panic, and Zach is always my obstacle. Occasionally I catch glimpses of Marissa making out with Mr. Collins in an attempt to aggravate Lizzy. I search the countryside for her but Lizzy can’t be found. I return to Mr. Darcy with no news of his Lizzy. He shakes his head and laughs at me. “Lucy, you’re funny,” he says with Justin’s voice.

The change in Mr. Darcy’s voice jolts me awake. My heart eagerly anticipates what he’ll say next. I remain still and hold my breath, hoping to hear him speak again. A few moments pass before I realize I’m in my bedroom, alone. I rub my face. This isn’t the way to start the day. I need to guard my heart. I am already swooning, and Justin hasn’t even made an appearance.

The grandfather clock downstairs chimes six times. I can sleep more or get up to meet the guys at the seven a.m. start time. I swing my legs out of bed. Justin will just have to deal with me painting today. Dad’s footsteps shuffle loudly below in the kitchen. I wonder if he slept at all.

When I push open the kitchen door, Dad sits at the table with a cup of coffee and a case of bed head worse than Eric’s. “Hey, Dad,” I try to say casually. I cross in front of him to the fridge, flinging my backpack on top of the counter along the way.

“Hi, honey,” his voice is still filled with concern. The swinging door squeaks and Mom walks in.

Mom had been unusually quiet the day before. She let Dad do his thing and me do mine. She offered us silent support as she distracted Eric most of the day. That night, when she saw me she just held me and let me cry. She knew exactly what I needed. I love her for it. It's yet another moment of miraculous mothering all because I am willing to receive it. I smile at her while wondering what other moments she offered but I pushed away.

I quietly make a few turkey sandwiches and stuff a bag of chips in my backpack. Dad eyes me questionably as I cross the kitchen and grab his keys off the hook. “Lucy, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

My heart sinks. I knew this would happen. “Dad, I’m ready, though. Look.” I point to my painting clothes and my packed bag like a toddler.

“I’m not comfortable with it.”

I groan. “Zach’s not going to be there, Dad. None of those guys are friends with him.”

“I know but still. It’s too soon. Don’t you think?”

I bite my lower lip, trying to control my brewing temper. “Dad, seriously, there’s no reason for me to stay home. I made a commitment to this job.” I eye him and Mom. “Actually, you made a commitment for me to this job,” I add for emphasis.

“That’s true,” Dad says. “But that also means I have the ability to break the commitment.”

“Come on, Dad.” I whine. My hand flies to my mouth in surprise. I hate whining, it instantly discredits me. “I’ll call home during all of my breaks. I promise.”

Dad shakes his head. I look to Mom, hoping she’ll help.

“Charlie,” she says while crossing the room and resting her hand on his shoulder. “You know she’s right. Those guys are her friends.” I hold my breath. Mom rarely if ever presents an opinion contrary to Dad’s. “You can’t keep her locked inside forever.”

Dad looks down at Mom and I see them as a couple, not my parents. He gazes at her and she fixes his hair. He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling. It is sweet but weird. I fidget with my backpack straps. I normally would have coughed or left the room but I hold out, hoping their moment would end in my favor.

Dad sighs, “Okay.” He turns to me. “Lucy, call home during every break. Also, what’s Justin’s number? I need another way of getting ahold of you if I need to.” He glances at the red phone tethered to the wall. “You never know, maybe I’ll get somewhere with the police today?” he grumbles.

“Sure. No problem.” I pull out my cell and write Justin’s number on the white board on the fridge. “I promise I’ll call. I’m going to be just fine. Trust me.” Dad squeezes Mom’s hand.

The doorbell rings. “UPS.” Dad stands up and pushes open the kitchen door. “Probably Eric’s birthday gift.”

Mom walks over to me and I hug her. “Thanks. I can’t stand to not be doing anything today.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I had to start my garden.” I look out the window at our unusually beautiful backyard. It is a constant reminder of how sad I’ve made her. She pulls away from me and I plaster a smile on my face. “We’ll be expecting your calls, do you understand?”

“I won’t forget.”

Squeak. The kitchen door flies open. Dad walks back in shaking his head. Justin follows.

Justin hasn’t shaved this morning so his stubble is extra thick. His shirt hangs perfectly from his broad shoulders. He looks like he stepped out of a romantic comedy. I am completely caught off guard and mumble some sort of greeting. I glance at my parents, both dressed in robes, and I shift uncomfortably. The last thing I want is Justin to see my parents in pajamas. Somehow that’s worse than him seeing me in pajamas.

“Hey, I thought I’d stop over on the way to work and offer you a ride.”

Dad rolls his eyes at Mom and she smiles. I pretend I don’t notice.

“Sure. Is that okay, Dad?”

“Well,” he grunts, “It seems that I can’t keep you here or keep them away. So go.”

I glare at Dad. I expect that from Mom, not him.

Justin’s face slowly processes Dad’s words. He opens his mouth to re-explain his motives but I intervene. “Come on, Justin. Let’s go.” There’s no way I’m letting Justin’s sass ruin this for me. I open the swinging door. “I’ll call during breaks,” I emphasize as I hold the door open for Justin. We are not going down that road with my parents. Not today.

Justin raises his eyebrows at me. He clearly understands the awkwardness of the situation. I motion for him to walk through the door, urging him to drop it, for once. He smiles, turning back toward my parents. “Thank you, sir. I’ll have her back before dinner. I promise.” I groan. He couldn’t have made that sound more like a date if he tried. Dad glares daggers at Justin. Mom laughs as I grab Justin and pull him through the door.

I pull the door shut behind me. “Cut that out. They can still change their minds.”

Justin laughs as he steps onto the front porch. “It was too hard to resist. That room was thick with Daddy’s little girl sentiment.”

“Of course it was.” I heave myself into the passenger seat. “You’d feel the same way if it was your daughter.”

Justin laughs. “Oh, no, trust me. If it was my daughter, I wouldn’t have let another guy into the house. Let alone let you leave the house with him.” Justin pulls out of the driveway.

“Really?”

“Yup,” Justin smiles mischievously. “No guy can be trusted. Your dad knows that. Did you see his eyes? If looks could kill.”

“Then I’d be a very happy person right now.”

He grins. “Well I’m glad to see you didn’t lose your fire.”

“And I’m glad to see you are still my consistent, annoying and egotistical friend.”

“You know it,” he says with unknowing charm. I refuse to let my grin creep across my face. “So, how did yesterday go?” he asks.

“Fine, I guess. Zach really can’t be held accountable. It’s driving my dad nuts.”

“That sucks.”

I shift in my seat. “I don’t think Zach would have done anything more, though.” I watch, but his expression doesn’t give anything away. “Do you?”

“I thought about it all day yesterday. I want to say no but I just don’t know. He’s not himself when he’s wasted.”

“He always listened to me before.”

Justin clenches his jaw. “You had to say no before?”

I shrug like it was no big deal. The vein in Justin’s neck throbs. “No guy should ever push a girl so far she has to say no.”

I roll my eyes at him and laugh. “Come on, Justin. How else are they going to know?”

“That’s not how it is supposed to work.”

“Oh? Then how does it?” I mock him.

Justin shrugs. “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage.” I laugh, thinking he is joking. He doesn’t smile. He turns to me. “Guys shouldn’t operate like Zach. There should never be a question when you get to that point.”

I don’t know how to respond. Justin’s reasoning astounds me. I didn’t know there were guys left that actually felt that way. “So you’re saying?” I need clarification.

“I will never force myself on a girl.”

“And?”

He sighs, “Yeah. It sounds stupid. But I want to be married first.” He shrugs. “I’ve seen too many people heartbroken over what they didn’t need to give away. That’s not going to be me.” He smiles softly and my heart breaks free of my guard. It does cartwheels. “And I definitely refuse to risk the heart of a girl I like. I’ve waited seventeen years. I can wait longer.”

“But what if you don’t get married until you’re thirty-five?”

“Then I am in for a very long and frustrating wait.”

“You’d really want to wait?”

“Well, I’m hoping I won’t have to wait that long.” He leans over and flips on NPR. “Do you mind?”

I shake my head and watch him settle into our old morning routine. I pretend to gaze out the window, processing everything he said.

I’ve never realistically contemplated waiting until marriage. I wrote it off somewhere between watching MTV’s Spring Break and my friendship with Marissa. It didn’t seem possible. Could a relationship even work out if your first time having sex was on your wedding night? How can you know if you’re marrying the right guy?

My grandparent’s marriage comes to mind. Grandma told me all about their honeymoon last summer while she sipped a mimosa on the deck with Mom. Mom left but I stayed for the details. Somehow it wasn’t that weird coming from Grandma. That’s how their marriage worked. She assured me it was worth the wait. And, here they are today, fifty-five years married. Today, the divorce rate is over fifty percent. I have no idea if Mom or Dad had sex before their wedding night and, honestly, I don’t want to know. That’s one conversation I’ve successfully avoided.

“Do you think I’m ridiculous?” Justin teases, interrupting my thoughts.

“Oh no. I just,” I sigh. “I’ve never met anyone like you. That’s all.” My heart swoons with the truth of my words. Somehow Justin’s commitment makes me want to be his girlfriend even more. It feels counterintuitive.

Justin chuckles. I can’t help but let out a small sigh of delight. Crap.

“Well,” he smiles, “I’m glad you’ve met me then.”

I nod and force myself to turn back toward the window. My defenses have given up and my heart can’t be trusted on its own. I focus out the window, expecting to watch the bushes that hide the low wired fence of the Cross-Town Highway. My eyes fall on a high noise barrier instead.

“Wait. Where are we going?”

“It took you a while.”

“We aren’t painting?”

He shakes his head and nods toward my hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I stretch my fingers and bend my palms. They aren’t even bandaged anymore. Minnesota’s white, domed capital rises in the distance. “Why are we going to St. Paul?”

“Finishing that research project.” He pulls off the highway onto Grand Ave. I eye Summit Hill, a steep, small road that cuts straight up the natural cliff of the river valley. “You aren’t going to try to drive this thing up that are you?”

“Yup. She can handle it.” He pats the steering wheel in encouragement. The light turns green and I grasp the bottom of my seat. The motor huffs and sputters as we climb. We no longer face forward but up. I am certain we are going to flip over backwards. I close my eyes and brace myself. Every other calamity seems to happen in my life. Why not this too?

Justin laughs as the truck makes a choking noise. “Lucy, you can stop white-knuckling it. We made it.” I open my eyes. “Aw, come on! Eyes closed? You missed all the fun.” He nods back down the hill. “We can do it again if you’d like?”

“Never again.” I glare at him in response. “Not in this junker.”

“Shhh. You’ll hurt Thelma’s feelings.” The truck sputters as he pulls up to Summit Avenue's stop sign. I decide not to humor him with asking about the truck’s name.

We drive a bit before parking along the street. I climb out of the truck, recognizing a few of the homes from the Victorian volumes I studied. Justin follows me with my notes from last week.

“Where are we going?”

He nods as he puts his hand on my shoulder, turning me around and away from him. “There.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I stare at the massive stone structure of the James J. Hill House. The mansion with the striking carriage entrance looks stunning against the lavender morning sun. The grand chimneys that split through the aged roof have a beautiful green tone to them. Graceful arches of brick protect the entrance. The mansion is beautiful.

“I’m bidding to paint it,” Justin explains. “It’s a huge job, a hard job. But it’d be an awesome job.”

“It’s stone,” I point out the obvious.

Justin laughs at me, putting his hand on my back as he leads me across the street toward the mansion. “Look closer. There are hundreds of windows to trim and other small nooks. The exterior is all about the details. Plus,” he nods toward the entrance and smiles, “the inside has lots of walls to paint.”

“That would take all year.”

“A couple, actually. If we got the job, we’d start next fall.”

“But won’t you be away at school?”

He shrugs. “I got into the Carlson School of Management at the University of Minnesota. It’s ten minutes away. I should be able to swing it.”

“But how will you have time to paint?”

“I’ll paint a bit but mostly Troy will hire appropriately.”

“He’s not going to college?”

“He’s going to pick up an associate in business during the evenings. He’s never been big on school. He loves to paint and he really is a great manager. If I snag this gig, the experience will set Troy up for a successful career.”

“And you?”

“Well,” he laughs. “I’ll be able to afford college.”

He opens the notebook to a blank page. “We need to gather notes so I can build a realistic proposal.” He walks up to the door of the carriage entrance.

“I don’t think if you knock they’re going to let you in.”

“Oh yeah?” Justin knocks loudly. Moments later, the door swings open. “Hi, Mason,” Justin says as he steps into the mansion. “This is Lucy.” I follow him through the door. The woodwork is dark and stunning. I remember it vaguely from my tour in second grade.

“Nice to meet you.” A middle-aged gentleman extends his hand. I shake it and he grasps the back of my hand with his other hand in an old-fashioned shake. “I’m Mason. I have the honor of being the groundskeeper here and,” he eyes Justin, “your personal tour guide.” He weaves my arm through his as he walks me out of the entryway and into the grand entrance. I gasp at the staircase looming before me. I turn back to Justin. “How did you get us in before hours?”

He shrugs. “They like me.”

“We’re old family friends,” Mason explains. Justin walks past us, examining cracks in the paint near the baseboards. Mason drops his voice, “Also, it helps when your dad’s the governor.”

“He’s not the governor, Mason,” Justin insists as he sits down on the ground to get a closer look.

“Not yet,” Mason playfully taunts. Justin ignores him.

Mason proves to be a delightful tour guide. Justin surveys every room, jotting notes as he examines the trim, fireplaces, walls, and wallpaper. I, on the other hand, can’t even think about painting. I allow myself to get lost in the grandeur of the space and swept up in Mason’s captivating story-telling of the mansion’s rich railroad history.

Mason shows us every nook and cranny of the house. Most people only see a few rooms, never the offices and certainly never the rooms that aren’t safe for large touring groups, like the children’s theatre and schoolroom.

Our tour ends at the top of the grand stairway. Mason drags Justin away from the wallpaper. He nods to me and the steps. “You aren’t going to let this lovely girl walk down these stairs alone, are you?” I open my mouth to protest but Mason shakes his head at me. “Don’t be so modern.” He slips my arm through Justin’s. The butterflies that I have worked so hard to keep dormant spring to life. “You can’t miss this opportunity.”

Justin nods down the stairs. “Shall we?” he asks with a proper voice and a joking smile.

“We shall.” I force myself to stand up straight and play the part. It is the only way I'm getting through this without falling deeply in love. I nod toward the steps and we start descending.

Mason’s voice echoes behind us as we arrive at the first landing, turning down toward the grand room. “Now Lucy, just imagine a crowd of people. All eyes are on you as you descend gracefully to greet them below.” Justin stifles a laugh as Mason speaks gracefully. I elbow him. “They look at you in awe and you know you are the most beautiful girl in the room,” Mason adds.

Justin doesn’t say anything this time. He leads me down the stairs. My heart flutters with my arm in his. I need this to end, soon. I lean forward, trying to quicken our pace. Justin feels my cue so, naturally, he goes even slower. He snickers at me when we finally reach the bottom.

“Beautifully done.” Mason tromps down the stairs behind us. “Now to the exterior.”

The exterior tour is brief. He points out the wooden trim and siding up high in the window eves. I don’t even try to strain my eyes against the sun to see the spaces. Instead I wander over to the side of the mansion and place my hand on the stone work. Each stone is rugged and cool beneath my touch. I respectfully step away from the mansion.

“I see you’re in love,” Mason offers. My stomach flips over as I glance at Justin who is shielding his eyes from the sun. Mason smiles at me and nods toward the mansion, “The house has that effect on people.”

“Yes, it’s beautiful. Thank you for this opportunity. I’ll never forget it.”

Mason laughs and eyes Justin. I blush. “No one ever does.” He winks at me as he walks away. “Justin. I’ve got to get to work. Can you see yourself around front?”

“Absolutely. Thanks, Mason.” Justin walks toward me, still shielding his eyes from the sun as he examines the upper windows. I wave goodbye to Mason.

Justin jots down one last note before shutting the notebook and turning toward me. “So, wasn’t that better than painting?”

“That was incredible.”

“I know. I’ve been in love with this place forever. Mason used to let us play lawn games here on the Fourth of July when we were little. I can’t believe I might get the chance to work here. Let’s go grab breakfast. I need to pick your brain.” He hands me the notebook. “Over the research.” He pulls out his phone and hands it to me. “You should check in with your folks. I’ll wait in the car.”

I slide the screen to unlock his iPhone. He has three missed texts, two from Allison and one from a girl named Hannah. I sigh. It is only nine a.m. Jennifer was right. He doesn’t get a break.

***

We return to the association as the crew’s breakfast break ends. Justin rounds up Troy and shows him the notes. He doesn’t notice me climb into the truck to grab my supplies. I find Alex and get right to work. I immediately find my rhythm, brushing the blue primer over a faded brown.

The rest of the day is everything I need. It is normal. Troy even manages to keep his distance. Other than Alex’s guidance, Luke is my only interrupter. He begs me to call Laura because she’s going to drag him jeans shopping with her. He swears it’s his living nightmare. He makes sure I dial before he leaves.

Laura answers on the first ring. “Oh, thank the lawd,” she says with her Southern twang. “I think I was driving Luke crazy. So, are you up for it?”

I giggle. She obviously forced Luke to make me call her.

“Absolutely. My wardrobe needs a major overhaul. I need some new stuff.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night?”

“Sounds good.”

“Sweet. See you then.” The conversation is so different than when I talked to Marissa. Marissa would drag on forever where Laura is sweet and to the point. Maybe Laura and I really can be friends.

After my team wins another game of basketball, Justin waits for me in the truck while I fill up my water bottle. It feels weird to be in the pool complex again. It was only a few weeks ago when Marissa’s squeal and Zach’s kiss changed my life forever. The pool is peaceful now and empty. I dip my toe in the water. It feels like a cool bath. I look around; the area is deserted. I slip off my shirt and shorts before I run at the pool straight on and jump in.

The water welcomes me. I surface and watch my waves ruin the pool’s peaceful surface. I dip my head back into the water, smiling as the water cools my scalp. I find myself in the same corner where Marissa and Zach cheated on me. I take a deep breath, finding my breathing free. Good. I need a positive memory to fill this space.

I pull myself over the edge and get dressed. I walk back to the truck and pull out a few painting rags. I dry my face. Justin is leaning back with his feet on the dashboard as I climb in. I squish into the passenger seat. My backpack’s contents are spread out over the center console. I open my backpack, searching for my essay. It's gone. I look up at Justin, who holds my crisp white essay on his lap. “Give that back.” I reach over and snatch the essay from his lap. “That wasn’t for you to read.”

“Then why did you leave it on the seat?” He smiles. “And why are you all wet?”

“It was hot.” I shrug. “And I didn’t leave my essay on the seat.” The white truck clanks on the way out of the association. I’m surprised they haven’t complained.

Justin reaches over and touches my wet hair. “You’re weird.” He pulls onto the highway. “So, why the essay?”

“It’s just something I wanted to fix. That’s all.”

“Come on, we’re friends. Maybe I can help. Do you have others to do?”

I sigh, thinking about all the papers, lab reports, and math homework I’d done poorly. I don’t have the time to fix those too. “No. Around Marissa I blew off my school work. Like you said, I was a total droid. I don’t know when I let everything slide.” I flip through my essay. “I found my original essay a few weeks ago after the whole Marissa and Zach thing. It was horrendous, a total eye opener. I knew I needed to fix it. I owed it to Mr. Taden.”

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 389