Finding Hope in Texas (4 page)

I saw the door. Maybe I could con the office
into letting me eat in there with the secretary? Right now she even
seemed more inviting than this room. I took a couple of steps
toward the door when I heard a small voice to the right of me.

“Do you need a seat?” I looked down at a
freckled faced girl wearing glasses and hair in a long braid down
her back. She smiled at me, showing off the perfect set of braces.
She sat alone at the end of the table closest to the door.

“Um, yes?”

“You can sit here if you want.” Jeez, she
sounded like a young Jenny asking a young Forest Gump to sit, and
being Forest Gump was probably a step too high for me right
now.

I looked around briefly and then sat down.
How could I not? She was the only one to open up to me before I
made it to the door. We sat there, moving our food back and forth
upon the tray but not talking.
Two shy people, what a
match.

“I’m Lizzy,” she finally said, looking down
at her tray.

“I’m Hope.”

She looked up and smiled and then immediately
dropped her head again. “I liked the way you played yesterday.”

“Huh?”

“Your violin, during practice. You were
really good.”

“Oh, yes, thank you.” I didn’t even remember
her little face in the orchestra hall from yesterday. I peered up
at her. “What do you play?”

“The cornet. Trying to, anyway. I just am
having trouble.”

“Well, I’m sure you will get it if you keep
practicing.”
Did
I
really
just
say
that?

“You sound like my dad. He’s always saying
how ‘practice makes perfect’ and that ‘everyone learns from their
mistakes.’ I think my only mistake was picking the thing up.”

“Oh, I bet you’re fine. I mean, you are in
the orchestra, right? Your dad sounds like a very smart guy to me.”
My dad always told me the same things, like it had been written in
some manual for all would-be fathers to follow.
Practice makes
perfect
. I’d bet he said it a million times to me about the
violin. It was always better than hearing how he shelled out a lot
of money for me to play the thing that I fell in love with at a
young age. Not that he wasn’t supportive, he made every recital I
ever had, but I knew that Tyler’s basketball was more his thing.
Getting out and shooting a round of hoops with his boy was much
better than hearing Mozart for the five-thousandth time. Still, it
was he who pushed me and made me focus on it. Mom thought I played
well at ten years old, and maybe I did for that age, but it was Dad
who always let me know that I could improve myself that much
more.

“Yeah, my dad is a good guy,” Lizzy said,
bringing me back to the conversation. “He’d better be, because I’m
always afraid his mouth will get him in trouble with Mr. Franklin
someday.”

“Mr. Franklin?”

“Yeah, the head principal. My dad can be a
jerk sometimes. You’ve heard him, cursing in class and such. I
haven’t had him yet, but that’s what the upper classmen say.”

I shook my head confused. “Who is your
dad?”

“Mr. Peet. He teaches the eleventh graders in
U.S. history.”

“Mr. Peet is your dad?” I sounded amazed.

“Yeah,” Lizzy said shyly. “Sorry for
that.”

I giggled. “Why are you apologizing? He seems
like a pretty good teacher. He wasn’t boring on the first day,
anyway.”

“Well, he’s kind of crazy.”

“I think you have to be if you want to be a
teacher. You know, they have to put up with a lot of junk. Being
crazy just comes along with the assignment.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I wouldn’t want to be
one,” Lizzy smiled as if I understood when in fact I didn’t. My dad
had been a lawyer, a high-powered successful attorney in New York
City. When people looked at him, it was practically in awe of his
accomplishments. He was also able to provide the world for me with
a nice house, a top dollar education, and a future that was also
going to make me all that and more. Well, it was, but I wasn’t so
sure any more. But I really had no idea what Lizzy was talking
about, being the daughter of a teacher, especially in Texas where
you were probably overworked and underpaid. Where my father set up
my world for me, Lizzy was doing her best to avoid everything about
hers.

We ate most of the meal in silence, not
really knowing what to say to each other. I was the new kid on
campus and she was the daughter of the crazy history teacher. Soon,
our table would be cliqued as the “losers” group. Still, I didn’t
seem to mind. I had come to get away from things, and in the world
of a teenager, this was about as far as I could go. The first bell
rang, warning us we had five minutes to make it to the next class.
My last school didn’t have bells, but everyone knew where they were
supposed to be and that there were few excuses for being tardy. But
here, the bell rang so often that it became confusing. How many
warnings do you have to give someone before they understand they
are needed to be in class? We scraped our trays of any leftovers
and tossed them in the bin to be cleaned. We turned to each other
as if to say something, but didn’t know what.

“Well ...”

“Well, um ... thanks for lunch?” Lizzy said
more like a question than a statement. “And I guess I’ll see you in
class.”

“Yeah, thanks for lunch.”

She smiled and began heading in the opposite
direction.

“Oh, Lizzy?”

“Yes?”

“I wouldn’t worry about your dad being too
weird. I mean all parents are weird, right?”

She smiled at me. “Yeah, but just wait till
he puts on his uniform and brings his musket to class.” Before I
could respond she was swept away in the crowd of teenagers barging
their way to class.

I turned to go myself when a large splash of
milk flew straight across my front, saturating my shirt. I froze
like a deer in the headlights
. This was no accident and I
knew it. When I opened my eyes I could see Jody and her collection
of friends laughing as they headed towards the door, mischief in
their glinting eyes. I was now their new project targeted for
destruction, all for talking to a boy.
How shallow can some
people be?

After I cleaned my shirt, I made it to music
just after the bell. The teacher, Miss Appleton, glared down her
straight-line nose at me. “Miss Kilpatrick, it is only your second
day here and you are already tardy.” I was expecting a write-up,
but was given a warning. “If you’d have the decency to get to class
on time so we may start our lesson, that would be just
perfect.”

I nodded but didn’t say anything, catching
the sorrowful eyes of Lizzy sitting across the room. I sat down,
sighed, and unbuttoned my violin case and pulled out the
instrument. The feeling that I was being watched began to overwhelm
me, and I looked over my shoulder to see the glimmer in Jody’s eyes
as they bore into me. I was going to leave it alone. Besides, this
was her turf and I was only the new girl in town who meant next to
nothing to her, especially now. She helped me because she had to,
for her little religious club, and now that wasn’t even going to
happen.
And I’m sure God was oh-so-happy to see his good
reputation mired by the likes of them.
Hopefully, if I kept an
even lower profile, this would blow over and I could live the rest
of my life at Jimmy Carter HS in peace and quiet.

That wasn’t going to happen, though. I
arrived in computer tech class to see that my previous day’s work
had been erased but by what the teacher could only guess was a
“strange malfunction.” In my mind I gave it a name, the
Jody
virus
, a vicious self-centered egomaniac that, with its
minions, attacked its host until there was nothing left. Sadly
enough, I was the host. Things didn’t relent in gym class either,
as I was tripped not once but twice accidentally when someone
inadvertently stepped into my lane. The first fall hurt as I hit my
knee hard against the track’s not so very rubbery rubber. The
second attack finished what the first one had started, leaving my
knees bloodied and bruised. The coach didn’t seem to see either
catastrophe, but was kind enough to let me lick my wounds in the
stands for the remainder of class. How very thoughtful. Why in the
heck we have to run outside, anyway, was beyond me, but it was
Texas, which never seemed to get less than eighty degrees.

As I sat there with bandages over both knees,
I tried to figure out what I could do. Maybe I should have
apologized to Jody? I did talk to her camping buddy after all, even
though I didn’t even know who
he
was. He was cute though and
in some way I guess I could see why she was irritated. But I wasn’t
anything compared to her. She had everything going for her, the
looks, the popularity, and the high school glimmer that I could
only be envious of. All I had was wavy red hair and a strange aunt.
Anyway, I didn’t understand it. How could someone just take it that
I was flirting with her boyfriend without getting my side of the
story? It was that skateboarder’s entire fault. If these bloody
bandages should be blamed on anyone, it would have to be him.
No!
He was just an inconsiderate jerk. This was worse than
that. I know I was from a New York prep school and probably that
alone was enough for this Texas group to see me as an easy target
to take their gun toting rage out on, but it was totally sophomoric
to act like this without all the information, and they were
supposed to be juniors. Still, was it going to last the next year
and a half of my life?
Ugh!

Mom wouldn’t have stood for it. I would’ve
told her about being picked on and she would have told me to “be
strong” and to try and work it out as best I could, and if I
couldn’t then she would. She hated bullies, we all did. Mom and Dad
looked at bullying every day in the courtroom: a big interest
company doing everything it could to hurt the little guy. They had
taken a stand against it a long time ago, so why couldn’t I
now?

I went to the locker room first, cleaned up
and got dressed, hoping to meet Jody and her gaggle as they made
their way into the showers. I would confront them; tell them that
Brad had just helped me off the floor and that she had nothing to
worry about. They would understand, probably give me a hug, which
girly girls like to do, and invite me back to their table tomorrow.
My one day of being voted off the island would be over and then I
could survive in their shadows, which would be just fine by me.

Leaving the locker room, I turned the corner
to meet Jody and her gang face to face. The feeling of infinite
smallness came over me as they approached. It had to be something
like what mom and dad first witnessed when they entered law,
peering across the aisle at a bunch of high dollar suits that
wanted to do nothing but destroy them in the most legal way
possible.
Jeez, do I really want to be a lawyer?
Their eyes
connected with mine as they came to a halt.

“Um, Jody. I just wanted to say that–“

“What? That you were talking to my boyfriend
even though you already knew how close we were?”

“I didn’t know it was him,” I blurted out
defensively.

“Bull! You are just some New York tramp who
thinks you can come down here and take any man she wants. That’s
what you think.” A few of the gaggle shook their head in agreement.
This was not a one-on-one situation and the crowd was only going to
make things worse. This was not going to be very easy if I couldn’t
separate her from the herd. “You think you are going to come show
us all up because we ain’t as good as you?”

“No, I don’t think that. I just–“

“You just need to go back where you came
from. We don’t need your kind around here.” She tossed her bouncing
blonde hair back over her shoulder and continued passed me, nudging
me as she did. I could feel the Irish in me begin to simmer.

“It’s pretty sad you’re taking this out on me
when you don’t even trust him enough to talk to other girls,” I
said loudly enough so that I knew she would hear.

The next five seconds flew by in a heartbeat
because before I knew it, she had spun me around and socked me
right in the eye. The floor was cold against my elbows as I found
myself wincing from the shock of taking my first punch. Even as
brother and sister, Tyler and I never punched each other. Yes, we
played around like we would, but nothing ever resulted in physical
violence. But down here, down here in Texas where the only justice
seemed to be street justice, I was practically flat on my back
awaiting the next attack against me, surrounded by the attacker’s
friends, with no teacher in sight.

Jody stood over me like a predator would do
its prey, just waiting to see if I would even try to do anything.
But since I had never taken a punch, I had never thrown a punch
either. Fighting was something they did in movies for
entertainment. People usually didn’t go to school to see a
knock-down-drag-out, and if they did, well, that’s pretty sad.

“Listen, you little hussy. We run this school
and everything that goes with it. And you, you are just crap that
we allow to stain our floors. You had better watch yourself around
here or there might be more accidents like the one that just
happened when you fell against your locker and got that black eye,
understand?”

I didn’t, but I shook my head as if I did. My
Irish had failed me and every drop of weakness bubbled up to the
surface of my body. I was scared of this girl, the same girl that
put on such a good show in front of the counselor about how she was
a wonderful student that wanted to help everyone. Now, if anything
was crap that certainly was.

“Good, now get outta here and keep your eyes
off our boyfriends, especially Brad!” She stood up from hovering
over me and turned away to leave before looking at me again. “Oh,
and enjoy your stay over there on the
loser
table.” She and
the gaggle entered the locker room, leaving me to pick myself off
the floor.