faded. “Oh. Jenny.” He stepped back, turned aside and gestured for her to exit.
Jenny emerged carefully from the door into the hall. If she walked straight out, he would get a clear view of the notepad jutting up from the back of her pants. So Jenny turned sideways as she walked, keeping her front to him. Then she made a kind of silly grand gesture of a wave for the principal to go on by her, as if she were somehow holding the door for him, which she wasn’t. There was no rational reason for Jenny to not just step away and walk on down the hall. This was awkward and weird even for her.
Principal Harris just sighed, shook his head, and walked into the office.
Jenny hurried down the hall, toward the exit, the notepad slapping her back with every step. It rode up as she ran, threatening to fall out and smack the linoleum floor.
***
She waited until sixth period the next day, a Thursday, to put it into action. She knew Seth had English as his last class, because she was in Social Studies on the same hall. So Jenny cut class, something she’d heard other kids talk about, but had never dared to attempt herself. The teachers took attendance, didn’t they?
Jenny waited in a bathroom stall until all the doors closed and the hallways fell silent. Then she took a breath and stepped out. She paused to look at herself in the mirror. She’d woken up early and spent almost an hour trying to figure out how to braid her hair, which left her feeling exposed and vulnerable all day, and she wasn’t entirely convinced it made her look better. She wore an old Swiss-dot black that had probably been made sometime around 1960, and a very thin sweater over that to cover her arms. She also wore her good black gloves and shoes.
She’d purchased concealer and inexpertly dabbed it on her swollen, discolored nose, where Ashleigh had slammed the volleyball into it. She wasn’t too impressed with those results, either. The only thing she was really happy with was her dark purple lip gloss.
She looked both ways as she stepped out of the bathroom. Nobody. Her heeled shoes clomped and echoed very loudly as she walked past the office, turned down the English/Social Studies hall, and approached the door to Mrs. Peckering’s room. Jenny looked in through the narrow, prison-style window at the AP English class. Seth was there, but so were Ashleigh, Cassie and Neesha. This would be tough.
Jenny took a deep breath, willed her heart to stop beating so hard, and opened the door.
Mrs. Peckering was busy scribbling on the chalkboard and talking about Beowulf and Grendel. She sighed when she saw Jenny Mittens, and her shoulders slumped, annoyed at the interruption.
“ Yes?” Mrs. Peckering said.
Jenny couldn’t summon the courage to say a word. She trudged into the room, eyes on the carpet, not daring to look toward the students. She stopped when she reached Mrs. Peckering, and she held out the note.
Jenny had gone through eleven sheets of Mrs. Langford’s notepad paper before the one that Mrs. Peckering now took from her. It read, in all caps, SETH BARRETT TO PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE ASAP, in what purported to be Mrs. Langford’s blocky handwriting.
Mrs. Peckering pointed at Seth and curled her finger for him to come.
Seth stood up. “Should I bring my books?” he asked.
Jenny waited for Mrs. Peckering to answer, but then realized Mrs. Peckering was staring impatiently at Jenny.
“Uh…yeah. I think so. Yeah. Yes.” Jenny nodded her head a couple dozen times before stopping. Her legs and her guts felt like quivering goo. She could not believe she was doing anything like this.
“ Aw, too bad.” Seth grabbed his backpack and made his way up through the rows. Jenny slumped a little, her eyes on the floor.
“ Get going, both of you,” Mrs. Peckering said. “The rest of us are busy learning.”
Seth gestured for Jenny to go first out the door. Jenny
Jenny emerged carefully from the door into the hall. If she walked straight out, he would get a clear view of the notepad jutting up from the back of her pants. So Jenny turned sideways as she walked, keeping her front to him. Then she made a kind of silly grand gesture of a wave for the principal to go on by her, as if she were somehow holding the door for him, which she wasn’t. There was no rational reason for Jenny to not just step away and walk on down the hall. This was awkward and weird even for her.
Principal Harris just sighed, shook his head, and walked into the office.
Jenny hurried down the hall, toward the exit, the notepad slapping her back with every step. It rode up as she ran, threatening to fall out and smack the linoleum floor.
***
She waited until sixth period the next day, a Thursday, to put it into action. She knew Seth had English as his last class, because she was in Social Studies on the same hall. So Jenny cut class, something she’d heard other kids talk about, but had never dared to attempt herself. The teachers took attendance, didn’t they?
Jenny waited in a bathroom stall until all the doors closed and the hallways fell silent. Then she took a breath and stepped out. She paused to look at herself in the mirror. She’d woken up early and spent almost an hour trying to figure out how to braid her hair, which left her feeling exposed and vulnerable all day, and she wasn’t entirely convinced it made her look better. She wore an old Swiss-dot black that had probably been made sometime around 1960, and a very thin sweater over that to cover her arms. She also wore her good black gloves and shoes.
She’d purchased concealer and inexpertly dabbed it on her swollen, discolored nose, where Ashleigh had slammed the volleyball into it. She wasn’t too impressed with those results, either. The only thing she was really happy with was her dark purple lip gloss.
She looked both ways as she stepped out of the bathroom. Nobody. Her heeled shoes clomped and echoed very loudly as she walked past the office, turned down the English/Social Studies hall, and approached the door to Mrs. Peckering’s room. Jenny looked in through the narrow, prison-style window at the AP English class. Seth was there, but so were Ashleigh, Cassie and Neesha. This would be tough.
Jenny took a deep breath, willed her heart to stop beating so hard, and opened the door.
Mrs. Peckering was busy scribbling on the chalkboard and talking about Beowulf and Grendel. She sighed when she saw Jenny Mittens, and her shoulders slumped, annoyed at the interruption.
“ Yes?” Mrs. Peckering said.
Jenny couldn’t summon the courage to say a word. She trudged into the room, eyes on the carpet, not daring to look toward the students. She stopped when she reached Mrs. Peckering, and she held out the note.
Jenny had gone through eleven sheets of Mrs. Langford’s notepad paper before the one that Mrs. Peckering now took from her. It read, in all caps, SETH BARRETT TO PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE ASAP, in what purported to be Mrs. Langford’s blocky handwriting.
Mrs. Peckering pointed at Seth and curled her finger for him to come.
Seth stood up. “Should I bring my books?” he asked.
Jenny waited for Mrs. Peckering to answer, but then realized Mrs. Peckering was staring impatiently at Jenny.
“Uh…yeah. I think so. Yeah. Yes.” Jenny nodded her head a couple dozen times before stopping. Her legs and her guts felt like quivering goo. She could not believe she was doing anything like this.
“ Aw, too bad.” Seth grabbed his backpack and made his way up through the rows. Jenny slumped a little, her eyes on the floor.
“ Get going, both of you,” Mrs. Peckering said. “The rest of us are busy learning.”
Seth gestured for Jenny to go first out the door. Jenny
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