Lessons I Never Learned at Meadowbrook Academy (10 page)

I quickly ran into the choral room, but noticed that the teacher wasn't even there yet. The room was set up in risers, almost like bleachers at a stadium, but on a much smaller scale. I moved to the back, back, back row, hoping I would go completely unnoticed.

Brightly colored pictures of music notes, music scales, and music notes on music scales hung from the ceiling. There was also a hanging collage of red, blue, and green turtles singing to each other. I narrowed in on the turtles. They looked utterly overcome with joy and entirely satisfied with their lot in life.

A big kid, wearing extra-tight khakis and a red Polo shirt, sat down next to me. He smelled like beef and dried sweat. I slid all the way to the edge of my seat, trying to put some distance between me and Mr. Smelly Tight Pants. I looked across the room to see if there were any other open seats in the back row when Thaddeus walked in. He smiled when he saw me, and my stomach did a thousand somersaults.

Thaddeus made his way up to the back, back, back row, just like me, but on the opposite side. He sat down and stared at me. And I stared back. Using his eyes, he gestured toward the big kid and gave me a thumbs-up sign. He smiled and tucked his blond, chunky bangs behind his ear.

As I looked at him, a panic filled me as I wondered if he could tell that I used to be the girl that ate lunch alone. If he somehow knew that I had always been the ugly one, the loser, the freak, the nobody. I would give anything to erase who I used to be. Anything.

Mr. Fredericks finally waltzed into the room humming, snapping me out of my daydream. He was an average-size man with droopy eyes, and his brown hair was short and spiky, like a porcupine. He had on navy blue slacks, a forest green button-down, and a lime green tie, which was covered in mini music notes on mini music scales just like the collages hanging from the ceiling. He was the type of guy that looked like he might still live at home with his mother.

“
There is a castle on a cloud…I like to go there in my sleep…
” he sang. “Everyone repeat after me…
There is a castle on a cloud
…”

Mr. Fredericks's voice was rather nasally. I mean for a choral teacher, he didn't sound all that hot. A couple of kids tried to utter a few notes back, but most of us just stared at him in complete and utter disgust.

“Okay. Let's try that one more time, shall we?
There is a castle on a cloud
…”

The big kid sitting next to me decided this was the most appropriate time to let out a repulsive belch. Of course, everyone started laughing. Everyone except Mr. Fredericks. His face got bright red, and it was obvious that this one grotesque belch shook him to his very core. I was anxious to see what would happen next. Partaking in the excitement of drama was fantastic, especially when I had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Mr. Fredericks took a deep breath. Then, from the other side of the room, another kid let out an equally disgusting belch.
Wow, game on!
I guess
something that was truly undeniable, be it a rich school or a not-so-rich school, was the resounding fact that if a teacher gives even so much as one inkling of vulnerability, teenagers will seize the moment and attack like a pack of wolves.

Mr. Fredericks cleared his throat. One more kid toward the front of the room let another one rip! This was just too good to be true. And to think I didn't even want to come to chorus.

“All right now. Everybody just stop those vile noises immediately,” Mr. Fredericks said shakily.

No such luck. The big kid next to me, who started the whole thing, belched again.
Fantastic!
Mr. Fredericks whipped his head toward the back, back, back row, where the big kid and I were sitting. “Do you think this is funny?”

I looked at the big kid. He was blankly staring forward.

“I said, young lady, do you think this is funny?”

I turned forward to look at Mr. Fredericks.

“Yes, you!” He pointed right at me.

“I…well, I—”

“Interesting, you had plenty to express just a moment ago and now you have nothing to say? Come down here,” he snapped.

“But I didn't do anything! It was him!” Not proud of being a rat, but clearly in survival mode, I pointed to the big kid, who then looked absolutely shocked at my accusation.

“Are you questioning my ability to locate the origin of sound, Miss…Miss…what is your name?”

“Roberta,” I said sheepishly.

“Well, Miss Roberta, we are all waiting on you. Or would you rather get a detention?”

Another detention?
The events of this day seemed intolerably cruel. Not sure what else to do, I got up. On my way down to the front of the room, I heard the big kid snicker. I made a silent vow to seek revenge.

“Miss Roberta, I would like for you to sing to the entire class the opening lyrics to
Castle on a Cloud
.”

“I can't sing. I'm tone deaf,” I said, trying to remain calm.

“That belch didn't seem tone deaf. Apparently you're an alto. Repeat after me:
There is a castle on a cloud. I like to go there in my sleep
.”

I hated Mr. Fredericks. I hated the big kid. I hated the singing turtles. I looked over at Thaddeus, and he was trying not to laugh. I loved Thaddeus. I loved Thaddeus. I loved Thaddeus.

“All right, your turn, Miss Roberta.”

There I was feeling humiliated and pissed off for being wrongfully accused for a belch, when somehow by the absolute grace and glory of God, there was a knock at the door. Frustrated, Mr. Fredericks stormed over and opened it.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Fredericks,” Twiggy said, standing in front of the half-opened door. “I hate to interrupt your class, but I have a rather important announcement to make.”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” he said, holding the door for her, clearly not wanting her to see the absolute lack of control he had over his own classroom.

I was still standing in the front of the room, looking like an idiot. Twiggy barely acknowledged me, and Mr. Fredericks told me to go back to my seat. On the way up the riser, I made sure to give the big kid an
I'll get you back
kind of look.

“Please, go ahead,” Mr. Fredericks said to Twiggy.

With her hands folded behind her back, she thanked him and moved to the front of the class. It was interesting to see a couple of the kids straighten up in their seats.

“Let me see a show of hands as to how many of you have Mrs. Reichard next for American History?”

I had Mrs. Reichard next.
I raised my hand, Thaddeus raised his hand, and a pretty girl in a soft pink V-neck sweater raised hers.

“There are only three of you?” Twiggy asked.

No one else volunteered. Twiggy jotted something down on a piece of paper. “The three of you shall have a free period next. Mrs. Reichard just went into early labor and has been rushed to St. Barnabas. Both mother and baby are doing fine, and we will continue to keep the Meadowbrook family updated as to her well-being.”

Twiggy promptly thanked Mr. Fredericks and left.

I glanced over at Thaddeus. His eyes caught mine, and he made a gesture with his hand that indicated,
meet me outside after class
. I nodded in agreement. Was I about to spend a “free period” with Thaddeus? This just seemed entirely too good to be true. I was so happy that I didn't even mind when Mr. Fredericks asked me to come back to the front and sing.

The first bell, ending chorus, hadn't even finished ringing when Thaddeus ran out the door. I gave the big kid a shove, quickly hopped down off the risers, and ran after him. Fortunately he was still waiting right outside the door.

“Whoa,” he said, “you got somewhere to be?”

Half-breathless, I said, “Nope.”

“Want to hang?”

I took a second to make it seem like I was pondering the countless other opportunities I had going on in my life. “Sounds cool.”

“Let's see if there's a class in the auditorium. We can just chill there if it's empty.”

Thaddeus led the way, and I followed close behind. I couldn't believe I was about to spend an entire forty-five minutes with him…alone. God, I just hoped I wouldn't screw it up. I was praying that he wouldn't bring up those damn Yankees tickets I had lied about earlier. Over the course of the day, my conscience had gotten the best of me, and I was feeling bad for grossly misrepresenting my capacity to acquire Yankees box seats behind home plate.

Standing somewhat downwind of him, I could faintly smell his deodorant or his fabric softener, body soap, shampoo, conditioner…I wasn't really sure what I was inhaling, but whatever it was, it was delicious. It reminded me of grass and vanilla ice cream.

Thaddeus opened the back door to the auditorium and peered inside. “Coast is clear.”

He moved to an aisle seat and plopped down, dropping his backpack on the ground. I was still standing by the doorway.

“Do you want to sit or stand?”

“Sit,” I said, sounding like a complete and total idiot.

He patted the seat next to him. “This one looks empty.”

My heart was beating so fast I could hear it pounding in my head. I felt his knee rub against the outside of my thigh as I slid past him. It made me tingle. I couldn't help but have a flashback to earlier, when I had fallen on him. The mere memory sent a shiver of embarrassment through my spine. Thankfully I sat down without any major mishaps. I anxiously tapped my foot and looked straight ahead at the empty stage. There was a half-deflated purple balloon on the ground, left behind from morning meeting.

Thaddeus put his feet up on the seat in front of him. He leaned over, pressing against my right shoulder and recuffed his pant leg. I could feel this immense amount of heat coming from our touching shoulders. He finished the cuff and leaned back.

“How do you like this place so far?” he asked. “Must be weird coming from another school and all.”

I tried to answer, but my mouth was so dry I couldn't get any words out. I swallowed hard and decided shrugging would be an adequate enough answer.

He leaned over toward his bag and grabbed a piece of peppermint Trident, popped it in his mouth, and offered me one. I took the gum, hoping to restore some moisture to my mouth. It worked as I smoothed out the empty wrapper on my thigh.

“I hate it here. But I don't really have a choice,” he said.

This sent a wave of relief through my body. Maybe he had an overbearing mother, too, who was forcing him to abandon anything and everything that made him happy. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” I said. “About not having a choice.”

We sat there, blowing tiny peppermint Trident bubbles together, staring at the empty stage.

“Where are you from?” he finally asked.

“Oh, umm, West Orange. I went to West Orange High last year and, well, my parents didn't think I was making the most out of my educational experience.”

This actually made him smile. “What'd you do wrong? Drugs, drinking, sex?”

“Oh God, no, I mean yes, but no.”

Thaddeus smirked. “All three?”

I felt painfully shy, like I might just break open right there in front of him. “Drinking, I guess. A little. But more not caring.”

“What didn't you care about?”

I actually had to think about this. No one had asked me before what exactly it was that I didn't care about.

“Tick-tock, tick-tock…what's you're answer?” he pressed.

“Me, I guess.” And this made me feel sad. “I didn't care about me.”

Thaddeus rubbed his jaw and stared at me like the counselor who I was forced to see after I gave that girl a bloody nose last year. It made me uncomfortable, so I looked away. “Where are you from?”

“Originally Portland, Oregon, but now I live in Livingston,” he said.

“Why did you move?” It was my turn to interrogate him.

“It's kind of a long story.” He picked the gum out of his mouth and stretched it between his fingers. “My Dad, he had some problems and now he lives in Florida. I'm staying with my aunt in her apartment.”

“What about your mom?”

“She's back in Portland. I see her on holidays and stuff.” Thaddeus threw the gum back in his mouth.

“Does that suck?”

He shrugged. “A lot of things suck.”

“Do you have brothers or sisters?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

Thaddeus used his legs to push the seat in front of him a few times. “Can we talk about something else?”

I looked straight ahead again. I felt so stupid for pushing the “family” talk. Desperately I tried think of some other topic to change the subject, but my mind kept drawing a blank. Then I remembered what Officer Tim had told me earlier:
You have to want to bring something to the table…like elevating conversation about the current political situation.
I couldn't believe what I was about to do, but nothing else was coming to mind. God, forgive me.

“What do you think about the current political situation?” I asked.

Thaddeus was silent for a moment and then he said, “Do you ever feel like breaking shit? I mean in a big way, not in some I-just-don't-care kind of way, but in a way that could seriously do damage to something?”

“Ummm—”

“Some people, like people at this school, they really bother me. You know what I mean?”

“I think I do.”

“There's this girl in our grade, her name is Sarah, and I'm looking at her today in English, at her makeup and her long brown hair, and I just want to scream because she looks so goddamn perfect, she's like flawless.”

“I actually missed English, so…”

“But she's not—she's just fake. You know? We went to school together all last year, an entire year of seeing someone and she still, she would never say hi to me. She's just fake.” Thaddeus turned toward me. “Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“Can I just…” He leaned in, pulled my face toward his, and abruptly parted my lips with his tongue.

It felt soft, warm, and pepperminty as it entered my mouth. I couldn't believe what was happening.
Was this actually happening?
I kept flicking my eyes open to make sure it was real. I had never kissed anyone before. This was my first, official, real kiss.

Thaddeus's gum crashed into my gum a few times. I was so scared that I was doing it all wrong. I tried to keep swishing and swirling my tongue around his entire mouth, hoping it felt good to him. He used his teeth and bit onto my bottom lip; it sort of hurt, but I didn't mind. He finally pulled away from me, leaving some of his saliva on my chin. It was nice, I guess.

“You're different, Roberta, I can tell. You're different and so am I.”

I discreetly tried to wipe my mouth on my sleeve. “I…I…”

“It's okay,” he said. “I get it.”

And for some reason that I cannot explain, I felt like I was being seen, really being seen by somebody else. It was the way he was looking at me, and it was the way he said “
I get it
.”
I didn't feel judged or not good enough or not special enough. It just felt safe to be…me.

I looked back into his eyes. His beautiful deep green eyes. And what I saw or what I thought I saw was sadness. His eyes reminded me of something that had been broken and glued back together.

“Are you sad?” I asked.

Thaddeus seemed surprised by my question. “Who isn't?”

And in that moment, I felt absolutely terrible about lying to him. I had to set the record straight and tell him the truth.

“I have to tell you something,” I blurted out. Emotion swelled in my throat. “I lied to you earlier. About the Yankees? I don't have Yankees box seats or tickets…I mean, I don't have tickets to anything; at best, I go to the movies every now and then, but I'm not…I mean, my family…we don't have any kind of money.”

Thaddeus pulled back from me and studied my face. Then he said something that shocked me. “I don't have tickets, either.”

“You don't?”

He shook his head. “Nope. The truth is my dad works in a factory and my mom is a receptionist. We don't have any money, either.”

I could feel my forehead practically rise to the ceiling in astonishment. “But why did you lie?”

“Why did
you
lie?”

“Good point.” I could feel myself blushing.

“Roberta, I lied because I like you and I wanted you to like me, too.”

I leaned back in my seat, completely and utterly bewildered. “Wait a second.” I looked back over at him. “Did you just say you liked me? Do you mean
like
me?”

Thaddeus ran his hand through his hair. I noticed the blue circle he had stained into his palm earlier during English. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

I perched up on my seat like I had just been plugged into an electrical socket. “Because I like you, too, and not because you just said you liked me but because I've liked you ever since I fell on you this morning…that didn't make any sense…what I meant was that I do. Like you. I do.” I paused to take a breath. “I'm sorry. When I get nervous, I kind of ramble.”

He leaned in and kissed me again. This time, it didn't feel so awkward. And I kept my eyes closed because I
knew
that it was real. He moved his hand to the back of my neck and looked at me. “Can I tell you something? Because I really need to tell somebody this, and I really need somebody to hear it. Does that make sense?”

I nodded. It did make sense.

“Even if it's weird?”

I nodded again.

He waited a few seconds before saying, “I was at a restaurant last night, and my aunt was drinking this glass of wine, and I watched this tiny fly, like the tiniest fly I've ever seen…and it landed on the rim of the glass and made its way down to the wine. And then it drowned. It didn't even struggle; it just got to where it was going and it died. And I can't stop thinking that even the good things, even the things we really want, will always be difficult.”

Thaddeus used his hand to tuck his bangs back behind his ears. And as he did, the sleeve of his shirt slipped down a little, revealing something disturbing. There were deep, red, angry scars that looked like cigarette burns clustered along the inside of his arm. He quickly pulled his sleeve back down to cover them up. A shame seemed to wash over him that I had seen a secret he had obviously been trying to hide from the rest of the world.

I was speechless at what I saw. We sat for a moment in silence.

Finally I said, “Thaddeus?”

“What?” He sounded so sad.

“I'm sorry that somebody hurts you like that.”

Thaddeus's face filled with all the emotion that each of those scars represented. He looked away from me. I wanted to say something else. I wanted to tell him he didn't deserve to be hurt like that. That no one deserves to be hurt like that. Not ever. But I couldn't find the right words, so I didn't say anything.

And the last bell of the day rang.