James (Part 2 of 3)

_____

James found school easy this time. “I'm smart,” he told his counselor brightly. “And I can handle the AP classes. I'm a good kid and I'll keep up with everything I'm supposed to do.”

The counselor laughed. “Wow, you're confident, too,” she said. “Okay. We'll start you out in the AP track, and if you have any trouble there don't be embarrassed to come and talk to me about it, okay?”

He nodded, smiling. He saw her eyes go to his dimple and she smiled back at him, warmly. “I think you're gonna do great here, James,” she said.

“I'm a good kid,” he told her.
_____

The classes were not difficult; he did his homework every night at the card table in the low-ceilinged kitchen at his new home, and he helped with dishes and yardwork too. His foster parents started to rely on him more and more to help with his six younger foster siblings, all boys. He played with them and helped them when they complained about their chores.

At school, he made friends with everyone he talked to. He enjoyed walking down the hallway because there would always be a dozen people saying hi to him. He was friendly and helped people, even when he had to go out of his way to do it.

When he carried a boxload of books in from the parking lot for his third period teacher, she thanked him so profusely that he was almost embarrassed. She invited him in for a donut in the teacher's lounge. “You can call me Mrs. Mac,” she told him. “Most people do. It's a lot easier than Mrs. MacGuthrie.”

“Thanks,” said James shyly, taking a donut and spilling sprinkles all over the floor. A burst of laughter came from the door as a couple of girls walked in. “Hey, Mrs. Mac,” said the taller of the two, a curvy blonde. “Can we have a donut?”

“Sure, Linda,” replied Mrs. Mac. “Just don't take the maple one, or Mr. Ellis is gonna be mad.” The two girls selected donuts and turned to eye James, who was trying to sweep the sprinkles into a pile with the side of his foot. “Who's your friend?” asked the blonde boldly.

Mrs. Mac's eyes crinkled into a smile. “James Byron,” she said. “Meet Linda Kruger and Emily March. They're on the student council and think they deserve donuts just because they come early to decorate the halls once a month.”

The girls smiled at James, and he grinned back. “You're in my class,” he told Linda, the blonde. You sit next to me in Mrs. Mac's third period.”

“Oh yeah,” said Linda, moving closer to him. “You're the new kid!”

“Yeah,” said James.

“He's a good kid,” said Mrs. Mac.
_____

Linda found herself drawn to James; he was charismatic, and he had a genuine friendly personality that she loved. When he asked her on their first date, she danced in front of the mirror for a half an hour before choosing her outfit. Soon they were going everywhere together, and the night that he leaned over in his beat-up pickup truck and whispered that he loved her, she stroked the side of his face gently before replying, “I love you, too.”

He closed his eyes for a long moment and exhaled, smiling. Then he gently touched the back of her head and leaned in to kiss her.
That night when he took her home, she stayed awake for hours giggling and twirling around her bedroom. As she spun, she caught a glimpse of a dark shape down on the lawn below her window. She stopped twirling, her throat feeling tight. She walked to the window and looked out to see James, down on the grass, with a cheap grocery-store bundle of roses in his hand. He smiled up at her and whispered, “I love you!” Then he gently laid the roses down on the lawn and walked away, whistling.
_____

They were walking down the hallway with their fingers entwined when James stopped and made a half-turn. “Hey, Lin, can you wait just a sec? I want to go talk to Mrs. Mac real quick.” As he spoke, he steered her by her hand so that she was leaning against a locker. “It'll just take a sec,” he said as he began to walk away.

“Wait, James,” said Linda, starting after him. “What do you want to talk to her about?”

“I just have some questions about the NMSQT test on Saturday,” he called back, waving his hand above his head dismissively.

She hesitated, wanting to follow him but feeling awkward. “Why take one more test?” she called after him.

His throaty laughter floated back to her. “It's not so bad,” he called. “You can come with me if you want.” He disappeared into Mrs. Mac's open doorway, and Linda slowly began to walk toward it. When she got five feet from the door, she stopped uncertainly. She could hear his voice and the voice of Mrs. Mac murmuring together from the classroom. She waited for several minutes, building her resolve. Finally, she stepped forward into the doorway and almost bumped her nose into his chest.

“Hey!” he laughed, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her around him. “I've gotta stop by my locker.” Without waiting, he strode down the hallway away from her.

Linda lingered in the doorway, wondering what had taken James so long. Mrs. Mac was there as usual, messy bun and thick glasses, rifling through papers and chewing on a fat bagel. Linda cleared her throat. “Um, Mrs. Mac? I was wondering about the test . . . do I have to register first, or can I just show up? My boyfriend is going, and I figure I'll keep him company.”

Mrs. Mac looked up from her desk and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Oh, you want to take it? That's fantastic! It's a great opportunity for a scholarship if you can score high enough. No, no, you don't have to register. Just show up with James, I know he'll come early.”

“Oh, uh . . . yeah.” Linda flushed. “I don't have anything better to do on Saturday morning, anyway. And we can go to breakfast afterward or something. You know.”

Mrs. Mac nodded and smiled. “So, you and James are an item? He's a good kid. I've had my eye on him since he moved here," she said. “I'm glad he's found someone. At first I was worried that he was too much on his own, you know?”

Linda giggled self-consciously. “What, is it in the newspaper that I'm dating James Byron?” she said, half defensively and half playfully.

“Word gets around,” laughed Mrs. Mac. "I hear way more than I want to about what's going on in everyone's love lives. And like I said, I like James. I keep an eye out for him.”

“He is pretty cute,” said Linda, grinning despite herself.

“Hey, good luck on the test,” called Mrs. Mac as Linda turned and followed James down the hallway.
_____

That Saturday, she dressed in her white strappy sandals, her short white skirt, and her lacy pink top. She selected her white faux sharkskin purse and descended down the marble spiral staircase to the front door. As she stepped out to sit on the porch, she saw her dad in the driveway already, washing his prized new possession—a yellow porsche that he had promised she could drive once he saw her report card at the end of the quarter.

She delicately perched on the edge of the top step, after scanning it for debris and brushing it off with her hand. Her father turned and gestured with the sponge. “Hey, hon!” he called genially. “Nice morning! What do you think of my ride?”

Linda rolled her eyes. “It's groovy, Dad,” she said. He chuckled and turned back to the car, picking up a toothbrush to apply to the side mirrors. She sighed and stretched her legs out in front of her in the most appealing way possible.

When that became uncomfortable, she stood and brushed her skirt off, then leaned sexily against the porch railing. That lasted a bit longer, but James still hadn't come, and she was getting stiff from maintaining alluring poses. “Ugh,” she said, and plopped herself down on the swinging bench. Then, after a few minutes of comfort, she artfully arranged her legs on the bench. Her ankle was digging into the wooden seat, but she decided that beauty has a price and she was going to pay it if it killed her. She scanned the street, watching for James' battered gray pickup truck, a nervous feeling growing in her stomach.

“Hey, Dad,” she finally called. “Do you know what time it is?”

He went through a lengthy process of putting down the toothbrush and sponge, drying his hands, and checking every pocket before he said, “No.”

Feeling anxious, Linda walked inside to check the microwave clock. The baleful green numbers winked at her: 11:11.

She stared at them, her stomach sinking. The test had been at eleven; James said he would pick her up at 10:30. She dialed his phone number slowly, knowing that he wouldn't pick up. Nobody picked up the phone at his house, ever. Linda clutched the phone with both hands, listening to the ringing. After she counted twenty rings, she slowly hung up and went up to her bedroom to change her clothes.
_____

Emily called that afternoon, cheerful and happy as ever. “Linda, what's wrong?” she eventually asked, after Linda had answered her with monosyllables for about ten minutes.

“James was supposed to pick me up this morning for the test,” said Linda glumly. “He didn't show, and he's not answering his phone. I don't know where he is.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. “Oh, I didn't know you were coming to take the test too,” Emily finally offered in a subdued tone. “I was late getting out the door, and James was freaking out because he thought we wouldn't be able to get in. He had to drive like a maniac to even make it in time.”

Linda stared at the wallpaper pattern of her bedroom, suddenly acutely aware of the ticking of her clock.

“Lin,” came Emily's voice, embarrassed and apologetic. “I really didn't think you were coming. You've been talking all week about what a dumb idea it is to take a test that's not even required. We both figured you'd rather sleep in.”

Linda cleared her throat, trying not to sound like she was about to cry. “Why did he even give you a ride, anyway?” She tried to sound nonchalant.

“I asked him to,” said Emily in a small voice. “I'm sorry, Lin, we totally didn't mean to ditch you. It was an accident. Seriously. We figured you'd still be asleep.”

“Sure,” said Linda, her throat tightening. “Okay, well, I've gotta go. I'll see you.” She hung up the phone gently, and then powered it off.
_____

He came over that night at eleven, after she was already in bed and staring at her ceiling. She heard the popping sound of the gravel he tossed up to the window, ignoring it as long as she could. She ground her teeth together in anger, her mind racing in a diatribe of anger and hurt.

Finally she heard his hoarse whisper floating up through the night air. “Linda! Lin! Lin!”

She flung the covers off of her legs and stormed to the window, flinging it open. “Shut up!” she hissed down at him. “Get off my property, or I'll tell my dad that you're here.”

He laughed. “Come down,” he commanded gently.

She sucked in her breath in outrage. “I'm not kidding,” she said in a low warning tone. “Get away from me.”

“What? Seriously?” He was still smiling, a laugh in his voice. “Come on. Let's go for a drive.”

She whirled around and grabbed the first thing that she could close her fist around, her white purse, and flung it through the window at him as hard as she could. “Get away from me!” she half-shrieked.

“Ow! Geez! Linda, come on. What's going on?” He wasn't smiling anymore. She glared down at him, a dark figure against the dark lawn, with the white purse lying at his feet.

“Thanks for picking me up this morning for the test,” she spat venomously. “Glad you had time to swing by and get Emily! Heaven forbid you forget her!”

He stared back at her in wounded silence. “What?” he stammered. “Emily asked me for a ride. I thought you didn't want to take the test?”

“Oh!” yelled Linda, no longer worried about the volume of her voice. “Okay. So Emily is smart enough to take the test, huh? And I'm too stupid to even be worth the gas it would take to get me there? You figure that there's no point in wasting my time taking a college prep test because I'm an idiot?”

“What? No, I--”

“Shut up, James. I don't want to talk to you anymore. And if you don't get off my lawn, my dad is going to call the police.”

An exasperated sigh rose up to her through the darkness. “I don't think you're stupid,” he began gently.

“Right, it's just that you think Emily is so much smarter!” She heard the hysterical edge in her voice and slammed the window shut before he could see her cry.

She turned away from the window in a dramatic twirl, but then crept back to the edge to peek through the curtain at him. What was he doing?

Down on the grass, James stood for a very long time, looking up at the window. She knew he was hoping to see her face there, to see her open it and lean out and apologize. The idea made her flush with fury. “You owe ME an apology,” she whispered to her curtains.

Finally, after a very long time, he turned and walked away into the darkness.
_____

She didn't see him the next day at all, which infuriated her even more. He was probably sulking at home, feeling sorry for himself. She spent a great deal of time thinking about what he was probably doing—lying on his bed, regretting his actions, wishing he'd never forgotten her, resolving never to speak to Emily again.

By evening, she felt restless. Why hadn't he called to apologize? Why hadn't Emily called? She had powered up her phone that morning just in case, but it had remained silent all day. She had spent a long morning listening to her mother sing in the kitchen downstairs, wishing that someone would notice that she was still in her bedroom and hadn't come down. Didn't her mom and dad care that she was so obviously unhappy?

By lunch she had swallowed her pride enough to come down to make herself a sandwich, but by then both her parents were gone somewhere in the yellow porsche. They hadn't even bothered to invite her.

As dinnertime neared, she became more and more hungry and irritable. Her only consolation was the thought that James was probably even more miserable than she was. Hadn't he told her that she meant the world to him?

“Should have thought of that before you ditched me,” she said to the empty kitchen.

It was beginning to get dark outside when she heard the sound of his rickety pickup truck, and the knot in her stomach dissolved in spite of herself. She should have known he would come to her. She could count on him. He couldn't stand to be apart from her anymore. Her tension was replaced with happiness instantly, and she floated to the front door.

She walked outside onto the porch, while simultaneously thinking that she should probably have stayed coyly inside. She didn't want to seem like she was the one who had done something wrong, after all. But her bare feet were already on the cool wood of the porch, and she was trying to smother the smile that was rising to her lips when she saw who was riding in the passenger seat of his truck.

Without a word, Linda turned and walked back inside. Emily and James walked up the front porch steps together. “Linda,” called Emily timidly, “we brought monopoly. Wanna play?”

Linda shut the door in their faces.

“Linda,” came James' rough deep voice, “Come on. We want to apologize for yesterday. We had no idea you wanted to come.”

“No idea,” echoed Emily.

“Yeah right!” whispered Linda, and then she screamed “Yeah RIGHT!” The anger that had turned to anxiety over the course of her long, lonely day quickly boiled up again inside of her. Nobody understood how she felt! Nobody knew how they had made her feel!

The door handle turned, but Linda locked it quickly. It rattled and then James said with an undertone of exasperation, “Linda. Come on. You're being ridiculous.”

“Aurrh!” Linda screamed, and kicked the door as hard as she could. “Screw you, James! You guys are total jerks!”

“Come on, James,” came Emily's soft voice. “Let's go. She's not in the mood to listen to us right now.”

In shock and disbelief, Linda listened to their footsteps retreat across the wooden porch, down the steps, and then the creaky sound of the pickup doors opening. She listened to the doors slam, tears springing to her eyes, and when she heard the engine rev and the truck drive away, she allowed herself to slide down to her knees in the kitchen, sobbing dramatically and burying her face in her hands.
_____

He came to her window again that night, a forlorn figure down on the lawn. He only bothered to throw one pebble, and then stood down on the grass with his hands hanging heavily at his sides. She watched him through the glass for several minutes before raising the sash, her chin in the air. She said nothing, just glared down at him as he stood there despondently.

“Can I help you?” she finally said, unable to bear the leaden silence between them.

The only answer was a deep sigh.

“What do you have to say for yourself, James?” she asked imperiously, hearing her mother in her tone of voice, and hating herself for it. “And where's Emily?” she added maliciously.

“Linda,” came James' deep voice, “why are you being like this? You know I love you. I don't know why you're suddenly jealous of Emily; she's your best friend. We made an honest mistake. Is it really that big of a deal to you?”

Linda searched for words. None that came to her sounded the way she wanted—all of them sounded petty, or silly, or irrational. She reminded herself silently that she was the one who had been wronged here. He had made her feel so ignored, so unimportant. Finally, she said, “We made an honest mistake? So you admit that you and Emily were in on it together.”

He gaped up at her incredulously. “Linda, seriously? You think that Emily and me wanted to . . . to hurt your feelings?”

“I just can't help but notice that you keep inserting her into our conversations about our relationship,” snapped Linda. “You don't have the balls to apologize for yourself and admit you did something wrong, so you drag her into it.”

There was a silence as he tried to puzzle out her words. “I'm sorry, if that's what you want to hear,” he finally said, slowly.

“Oh, it's all about what I want to hear now, huh? It's not about what you did wrong? Just condescend to apologize to me, and everything will be okay?” She knew she was confusing him, and that just made her angrier. He should know how he had made her feel; she shouldn't have to explain it to him.

“You know what, James? You don't even get it, do you? We're done. We're over,” she said hotly, her voice rising. She wanted to see him flinch, to react, but he just stood there like a monolith and stared at her. “I don't love you anymore,” she snarled.

“I don't understand,” James said desperately. “What don't you love anymore? What is it?”

“You're a liar!” Linda screamed. “Everything you've ever said, ever done that was nice, it was all a lie! Everything you are is one big LIE!”

“Oh,” he said, and it was the sound of someone who has just been punched in the stomach. His eyes searched hers, glinting in the semi-darkness. Then, a soft, broken sound came from his mouth again. “Oh.”