Jumped In (15 page)

I try to calm myself.

Try to breathe away the pinpricks in my face and the pounding in my chest.

Try to confront my fear like a man.

I can do this. I can stay and make an ass out of myself in front of everyone and be proud that I tried.

Or—

I bolt out of the room.

I feel freedom.

I feel relief.

I feel like a pile of dog crap because I'm a worthless fucking failure.

I start running down B Hall and Carter is there.

Again.

“Hey, where ya goin', bud?”

He puts a hand on my shoulder.

I wanna slap it off and keep running.

He says, “I hear it's big poetry day in Ms. Cassidy's class.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You better get in there. You might miss something.”

“I need a second. I need a drink of water.”

Cassidy's head pops out the door. “
Sam I Am
, you're on, dude.”

Shit.

My heart's in my throat now. I swear I'm about to puke it up.

She holds her hand out. There's a cup of coffee in it. “Slam this. It's black.… It'll put some hair on your chest.”

I chug it.

Cassidy sees Mr. Carter and smiles. “Forgive me, Carter. I don't have the sugar soda and Kool-Aid I usually serve the kiddos … just coffee today.”

He's cracking up at Cassidy. I'm shaking like a jackhammer as I hand her Luis's CD.

“DJ Cass is on it. Pull yourself together, bro; I'm announcing you in ten, nine, eight…”

Carter slaps me on the back. “Get in there and do your thing. You're going to be great.”

“You don't know that, Mr. Carter. You have no idea.”

His eyes get wide. He's as surprised as I am that I talked back. “You're right, Sam,” he says. “What I do know is you have a shot to be great today. I think you should take it.”

I follow Cassidy into the room. I hear the whispers and try to ignore them. I step on the stage and face my classmates for the very first time.

I pull the poem out of my pocket, unfold it and place it on the stand. I don't look at anyone. I look over them. All the way to the back wall. I zoom in on that wall as hard as I can. I tell myself that it's just me and the wall. There's nothing I can do about what's going on in my chest or the pain on my face.
So forget it, Sam. Focus on your lines and say 'em like you mean 'em.

Next thing I know, Luis's voice explodes out of the boom box:

Ladies and gentlemen,

Buckle your belts!

Take a hold!

'Cuz this jumbo jet's

About to barrel roll!

Everyone starts clapping and whooping.

Like they mean it.

Now, Sam, kick back and blast it, exactly as we practiced it!

I open my mouth and hear myself say the first line along with Luis.…

 

WHEN IT COMES RIGHT DOWN TO IT, I'M A BIG FAT BABY

T
HE ROOM EXPLODES WITH SOUND
.

I'm frozen in all the shouting and clapping. This kid, Rashad, slaps me on the back and shakes my hand.

It's over.

I did it.

We
did it.

It's just a classroom full of kids, but it's like I scored the winning touchdown for the Seahawks. In the SUPER BOWL! You can't hear yourself think, it's so loud. I just take it in.

And I feel it.

I feel it for the first time since I used to rock out with Rupe and Dave behind the Aberdeen house.
That
feeling. The feeling Kurt and Krist were going for when they named their band.

It's amazing.

I can't handle it.

I bolt out of the room again.

I'm feeling too much. I've got too much to say. I wanna thank my grandparents. I want them to know what I just did. I wanna tell my mom I'm not a complete loser.

I wanna tell Luis it was great. But I'm panicking, pacing back and forth in the hall like a crazy man. I'm breathing so hard and fast the blood rushes to my head. I got to lean against the wall to keep from dropping.

Ms. Cassidy runs after me. She wipes her eyes with a huge wad of napkins. Smears her makeup. Gives me some of the napkins so I can wipe my eyes. She offers me more coffee and spills some on her shirt. She says, “I'm proud of you, Sam.”

I don't hate her anymore. I hug her.

I wanna erase the last few years of my life and start over right now.

From this moment.

Carter hits me on the shoulder with a rolled-up paper. “You killed,” he says as he walks past us.

“You were in there?” I call after him.

“I was a witness to greatness,” he says, disappearing into B Hall.

Cassidy starts punching me in the arm. “
Luisandsam
, you guys did it! You did it, Sam. I knew you had it in you! I knew it!”

“Thanks, Ms. Cassidy.”

“Now I've got some butt to kick! I mean, where's that Cárdenas?”

“I don't know, Ms. Cassidy. I wish he was here.”

It's great to hear people clapping and to see Ms. Cassidy all proud of me. But I feel guilty because Luis made me do this. Luis wrote most of the poem. He made me practice and got me ready. Without him, I wouldn't be here feeling better than I've ever felt in my life.

Next thing I know, Go To
—
Julisa Mendez—is standing right in front of me.

“That was great, Sam. You and Luis did awesome.”

“Thanks.”

“Where is he?”

I shake my head.

She looks down at the ground for a second, seeming genuinely disappointed. Then she pops back up with a smile on her face. “Here's my reflection.” She hands me the paper. “It's all positive. When you see Luis, can you tell him I really liked it?”

“Yeah.”

“And can you tell him … well … tell him I say
hi
.”

“Okay.” For a second, I think it's weird that she's talking to me about the poem, and about Luis. Then I think maybe she likes him. Or maybe she just really likes the poem. Maybe this is how kids who do stuff talk to each other.

I carefully fold the reflection sheet, put it in my pocket, and head back to class, smiling from ear to ear. As each nervous kid goes up there and reads, I clap hard. And I feel for the kids who freak out, because they got up and they tried.

When it's over, Ms. Cassidy gives me a pass to leave the room and call Luis. There's no answer. I leave a message. I tell him we did awesome. I tell him I wish he'd been there. He shoulda been there.

I try him again sixth period. No answer.

On my walk home, this thought hits me:
What if Luis isn't suspended?

I start worrying about the stuff Carlos had said.

And I wish Luis hadn't been born into all this gang shit.

I worry about Luis's brother. About Frankie. About any other guy who might be out there fucking up Luis's life.

I got to talk to him.

 

MIRACLE

S
TANDING AT THE FRONT DOOR
. I'm not sure if I can tell Ginny and Bill what happened in Cassidy's class.

Not sure I know how.

I open up and walk in. I look over at the kitchen. There are balloons. Ginny and Bill have set out pizzas and sodas and ice cream. It's like a corny little-kid party. I guess they had an idea about what was going on at school and they wanted to celebrate or something.

Ginny and Bill walk in the room. They don't say anything to me. Ginny just looks over at Gilbert and says, “Hit it, Gil!”

The bird starts singing,
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you …

It's my birthday.

Ginny and Bill join in with
Happy birthday, dear Sa-am, happy birthday to you.
Bill pats me on the back. Ginny makes me kiss her cheeks again.

“Thanks” is all I can say.

“Thank your cousin,” my grandma says. “He worked hard on that.”

I walk toward the cage but before I can thank Gilbert, he screeches, “HELLO, SAM!”

Hello, Sam?

I know I heard that wrong.

Then he says it again.

“HELLO, SAM.”

I freeze in my tracks and drop to the floor laughing. I can't stop. For the first time since the day I moved in here, he doesn't say it.

He didn't say it!

“Hello, Gilbert! How the hell are you, you … you beautiful parrot-cousin? You don't know how happy I am to see you today! Have I told you lately that I love you, man?”

I catch a look at myself in the framed mirror my grandma has hanging in the living room.

I look happy.

We all gather around the table to have our little party. My grandma hands me a plate full of pizza and asks, “How was school today, Samuel?” She casually tosses the question out as she passes Bill the pepper.

“It was okay…”

“Really, Sam?”

“No.”

“Oh,” she sighs. “That's too bad.”

I look down at my plate of pizza, then up at Ginny's sad eyes.

I gotta tell her.

“It was the best day I've had at school. I wish you guys could have been there.”

“That is something, Sam.” She closes her eyes, smiling. Reaches over and puts her hand on mine for a second. “That is really something.”

Bill busts out, “Sam, have a slice of pizza! You're going to starve. Eat as much as you want. We got plenty! This slice is loaded with pepperoni. Here!”

“All right, all right, I'll eat.” I'm laughing like a dumbass.

We all sit there eating, a bunch of grinning idiots.

It's really nice for a while.

Then I get this thing.

From down deep.

The twinge of wanting …

I try to shake it off because this little party is perfect just the way it is.

But it's hard to fight the twinge.

I concentrate on smiling and thanking my grandparents for nothing in particular.

Or for everything.

When the pizzas and ice cream are gone, I go to my room and do some math homework.