to hang with them anyway, and I agreed with him then.
But now I’m thinking maybe Dad was wrong about things. A lot of things. I mean, it’s been three days, and he hasn’t returned a stinkin’ phone call. He said Mom didn’t want him involved with us—but I heard her, calling and calling, and he hasn’t called back. Man, this was important. If I was with him, and not Mom, I might be in jail now.
Jail .
I let go of Crusan’s hand. I start to wipe my palm on my jeans. I stop myself when I realize he’s looking at me. Stupid .
I say, “Sorry, man.”
He shrugs. “We don’t have to be friends.” I can hear in his voice that he doesn’t want to be friends with me anyway.
“What do you want from me then?”
He looks down. “Nothing.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want anything from you.”
“But you’re going to tell them it wasn’t me, right?” I don’t get this guy. He dragged me here for—what? Just to chat?
He nods. “I’ll tell them it wasn’t you that morning. And the other stuff, the rock and the notes in my locker and stuff…” He shrugs. “I guess we’ll see what happens.”
“You want me to confess, don’t you?”
I sure don’t want to. Mr. Eutsey said they might not believe Daria, on account of her being retarded. So I don’t have to confess anything. Not unless that’s part of Crusan’s deal for telling them I didn’t do Monday. I still don’t get what his deal is.
“You don’t have to,” he says.
“But you must want something from me?”
He thinks about it. “Well, yeah, there’s one thing.”
“What is it?” Shit. What is it already?
“Just leave my family alone, okay? My mom, she wants to leave town over this. I hate it here, but we can’t afford to leave. I can’t make you stop it, but would you … just be decent, huh?”
I nod. I know that now that I’ve talked to the guy, face-to-face, man to man, I couldn’t go shoving secret notes in his locker anymore anyway. It’s hard to explain, but once you look someone in the eye like that—I mean, really look at them—it’s like you can’t not look at them again. You can’t not see them. It was a stupid thing, throwing that rock. Stupid, and mean, too. I know that now.
“I’ll tell them I threw the rock.” Even as I say it, I’m thinking, Are you nuts, man?
“I said you don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I will. I just… I want to get it over with. I want this over. And…”
I don’t finish. What I’m thinking is something like, I want to make it right. He was decent when he didn’t have to be. I want to be decent too.
He examines my face, then gestures at the door. “Then why don’t you go get those cops in here?”
I do.
Wednesday, 10:30 a.m., Mrs. Taub’s office, Pinedale High School
DARIA
Mama says ,
it is fine .
Alex Crusan saw .
Alex Crusan
knew .
Not Clinton
who hurt Alex .
But Clinton
threw
the rock .
They know that
because of
me .
Mama says
I am still
a
hero .
Wednesday, 11:00 a.m., Memorial Hospital
ALEX
After Clinton and the cops leave, I go into the bathroom. I want to see my face in the mirror. The verdict: could be worse. The cuts look pretty scary, and it will be another week before I can get the stitches out. I won’t go to school until then. If it was up to Mom, I’d never go to school, but we compromised on this.
When I was a kid, I was in the hospital once with pneumonia. I cried the whole time. I missed school, missed my friends. I wanted to get out.
These past two days, I’ve hated being here, but not because I missed anything on the outside. So far I’ve had nothing on the outside. But I want to now.
I go back to my bed and press the button for the nurse. When she shows up, I ask her, “I’m sorry to bother you about this but … will I have scars all over my face?” This is suddenly intensely important to me.
She looks at me a second, then says, “Didn’t the doctors tell you about taking care of
But now I’m thinking maybe Dad was wrong about things. A lot of things. I mean, it’s been three days, and he hasn’t returned a stinkin’ phone call. He said Mom didn’t want him involved with us—but I heard her, calling and calling, and he hasn’t called back. Man, this was important. If I was with him, and not Mom, I might be in jail now.
Jail .
I let go of Crusan’s hand. I start to wipe my palm on my jeans. I stop myself when I realize he’s looking at me. Stupid .
I say, “Sorry, man.”
He shrugs. “We don’t have to be friends.” I can hear in his voice that he doesn’t want to be friends with me anyway.
“What do you want from me then?”
He looks down. “Nothing.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want anything from you.”
“But you’re going to tell them it wasn’t me, right?” I don’t get this guy. He dragged me here for—what? Just to chat?
He nods. “I’ll tell them it wasn’t you that morning. And the other stuff, the rock and the notes in my locker and stuff…” He shrugs. “I guess we’ll see what happens.”
“You want me to confess, don’t you?”
I sure don’t want to. Mr. Eutsey said they might not believe Daria, on account of her being retarded. So I don’t have to confess anything. Not unless that’s part of Crusan’s deal for telling them I didn’t do Monday. I still don’t get what his deal is.
“You don’t have to,” he says.
“But you must want something from me?”
He thinks about it. “Well, yeah, there’s one thing.”
“What is it?” Shit. What is it already?
“Just leave my family alone, okay? My mom, she wants to leave town over this. I hate it here, but we can’t afford to leave. I can’t make you stop it, but would you … just be decent, huh?”
I nod. I know that now that I’ve talked to the guy, face-to-face, man to man, I couldn’t go shoving secret notes in his locker anymore anyway. It’s hard to explain, but once you look someone in the eye like that—I mean, really look at them—it’s like you can’t not look at them again. You can’t not see them. It was a stupid thing, throwing that rock. Stupid, and mean, too. I know that now.
“I’ll tell them I threw the rock.” Even as I say it, I’m thinking, Are you nuts, man?
“I said you don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I will. I just… I want to get it over with. I want this over. And…”
I don’t finish. What I’m thinking is something like, I want to make it right. He was decent when he didn’t have to be. I want to be decent too.
He examines my face, then gestures at the door. “Then why don’t you go get those cops in here?”
I do.
Wednesday, 10:30 a.m., Mrs. Taub’s office, Pinedale High School
DARIA
Mama says ,
it is fine .
Alex Crusan saw .
Alex Crusan
knew .
Not Clinton
who hurt Alex .
But Clinton
threw
the rock .
They know that
because of
me .
Mama says
I am still
a
hero .
Wednesday, 11:00 a.m., Memorial Hospital
ALEX
After Clinton and the cops leave, I go into the bathroom. I want to see my face in the mirror. The verdict: could be worse. The cuts look pretty scary, and it will be another week before I can get the stitches out. I won’t go to school until then. If it was up to Mom, I’d never go to school, but we compromised on this.
When I was a kid, I was in the hospital once with pneumonia. I cried the whole time. I missed school, missed my friends. I wanted to get out.
These past two days, I’ve hated being here, but not because I missed anything on the outside. So far I’ve had nothing on the outside. But I want to now.
I go back to my bed and press the button for the nurse. When she shows up, I ask her, “I’m sorry to bother you about this but … will I have scars all over my face?” This is suddenly intensely important to me.
She looks at me a second, then says, “Didn’t the doctors tell you about taking care of
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