September 8th
Grade 11
“You know the lead for the school play is going to go to Vivienne again, she’s such a teachers’ pet…” Millie prattled on. I had just left AP Bio and if she didn’t stop pumping nonsense into my already overflowing brain, my head was going to explode and splatter all over the pavement.
“By the way, did I tell you I met Bennett’s cousin, Adam?” Millie asked me. “He’s super hot. I’m going to see him at Model UN tonight.”
“Awesome,” I murmured. I wish Quinn was here. She was almost finished with her inpatient program at the Childrens’ Hospital Eating Disorder Clinic. I couldn’t wait for her to be back at school.
“Speaking of Bennett, what’s going on with you two?
My mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”
“He asked you to homecoming, right?” Millie watched me intently, waiting for a reaction. I knew she’d always liked Bennett. Her questioning wasn’t coming from a friendly place, even if she was working hard to make it seem that way.
“Yeah, we’re going together.”
“As friends,” she said pointedly, “or as a date?”
If only I’d had the guts to ask him that myself. First, he refused to kiss me during 7 Minutes in Heaven, and then he asked me to homecoming. Consider me confused.
Speaking of Bennett. My eyes landed on him leaning against the brick wall beside the parking lot, phone in one hand, and something else in the other. What on earth was he doing? He knew better than that.
Millie nudged me gently. “Thayer?”
My attention turned back to her, patience vanishing. “Sorry, Millie. I have to go.”
“But—”
“I’ll catch up with you later.” I turned and cut across the parking lot, striding up to Bennett. My homecoming date was breaking about seven different rules in the school’s handbook. If he wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t be attending our school much longer.
“Have you lost your mind?” I demanded.
Bennett exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Not recently.”
I snatched the joint from his hands and grabbed his sleeve, yanking him around the corner out of sight. “What the hell is this?” Bennett didn’t smoke—cigarettes or otherwise. And he definitely wasn’t foolish enough to do it on school grounds, where they had a zero-tolerance policy.
“What does it look like?” He gave me an unimpressed look. “Do you want a hit, or can I have it back?”
“You’re going to get expelled,” I hissed, stubbing out the glowing end against the red brick.
He reached over and snatched it out of my hands. “So?”
“So?” I gestured. “So? What’s going on?” His tie was loosened, uniform dress shirt wrinkled, and he was a disheveled mess. Bennett never looked like this—ever.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re going to give me a speech about how if I get expelled, I’ll never get into a good college. And without a good college, I won’t be able to get a good job.”
“Well, yeah.” That was exactly what I was about to say. That was how we’d been raised; eyes on the prize, stay in line, and you’ll get the golden ticket eventually.
Bennett snorted. “What’s the end goal there, exactly? So I can work my life away, only to get accused of some ‘white collar crime’ bullshit like my dad?”
A group of students came out the side doors, chatting loudly. We paused, waiting for them to continue through the parking lot until they were out of earshot.
“Bennett,” I whispered, touching his arm. “What happened?”
“It seems my dear old dad was skirting the law and got caught.” His jaw worked. “And by caught, I mean he got arrested last night.”
