What Would Emma Do? (12 page)

I’ve never gotten the anti-gay thing. If you could choose your sexuality and choose to be gay or straight, then I imagine there would be lobby groups trying to get you to change your mind. It would be like long-distance companies. They would have telemarketers that would call you at home and try and convince you to change sides, maybe throw in three free months of high-speed Internet service or a toaster. If it isn’t a choice, then it means you must be born a certain way, either gay or straight. If you are born that way, it must mean that God made you that way, which makes it seem unlikely that he would damn you to hell for it. After all, it would be technically his fault.

Regardless of why Mr. Pointer is in a chronically bad mood, it is clear the only thing that gives him any joy is making his students’ lives miserable. We are required to sit according to how we did on the last test. The worst student is in the front row, right-hand side, and the next worst next to them, and so on, with the best student being in the back row. If that weren’t enough, his favorite way to teach is to call you to the board and have you write down how you did a particular problem. Then you have to stand there next to your work while your fellow classmates (traitors) point out what you did wrong. If I manage to get out of TES without requiring some serious therapy, it’s going to be a miracle.

Joann passed me a note.

DO YOU LIKE TODD?

I chewed on the end of my pencil while I thought it over. I didn’t see any point in telling her that just a short time ago I was trying to figure out if I liked her boyfriend. I also didn’t see any point in sending back a note asking if she was really sure she liked Colin or not. I looked down at her note and thought about Todd. He was interesting, but is interest the same as liking someone? Maybe it was a chemical thing. Maybe Todd made more pheromones than the average guy. I shifted in my seat as I remembered how I felt when his finger had outlined my lips. I pushed a shred of eraser out of my mouth.

No.

Joann read the note and looked over at me, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. I had a feeling I was busted.

No? R U SURE?

Okay, not sure. What do you think: interesting or odd?

I lobbed the note back to Joann when Mr. Pointer was at the board detailing a complex problem where two trains left two stations at different times. This is what educators spend their energy on? I’m not planning to go into transportation logistics. I can see no value in learning how to work out this kind of problem. If you didn’t know when the train was going to show up, why wouldn’t you simply ask at the information desk or go online and print out a train schedule?

Joann placed the note under her shoe and then slid it across the aisle to me. I placed my foot on it and slid it under my desk. I waited until Mr. Pointer was busy and then bent over to pick it up. I was unfolding it under the desk when Mr. Pointer called my name. I yanked my head up, certain we had been caught. I briefly considered shoving the note into my mouth to destroy the evidence. There was no way I would allow this to be read aloud. I had enough problems without people pointing out that I was dating the school leper. I would rather die choking on ruled paper.

“I said, you are needed in the office, Ms. Proctor,” Mr. Pointer said, his voice showing the annoyance he felt at having to repeat himself.

I heard a few people whispering, and when I turned to the door, my eyes widened. Kimberly’s dad, the chief of police, was outside the door wearing his full cop getup and standing next to Mr. Karp, our principal. I pointed to myself and Mr. Karp nodded. I may be only seventeen, but I’m smart enough to know that when the cops come to pick you up it’s pretty much guaranteed to be bad news.

I stood up slowly. I shoved the note from Joann into my pocket unread.

“You should bring your things. You most likely won’t be returning to class,” Mr. Karp said. My classmates were really whispering now, and Joann raised an eyebrow at me. I gave her a small shrug, picked up my books, and followed Mr. Karp out into the hall.

18

God, I sooooooooo don’t need to be in any more trouble than I already am. If you could see it in your heart to get me out of this particular situation, I am completely willing to make it up to you. If you get me out of this, I hereby vow all of the following:

• I will never again let Paula at the Dairy Hut give me a large cone for a small cone price when her boss isn’t there. I also will forgo free sprinkles, chocolate dipping, and extra spoonfuls of those crushed Heath bars.
  
• I will not make fun of Darci, even when she richly deserves it.
  
• When my mom asks me to clean my room, I will not simply stuff things under the bed.
  
• While attending church services, I will pay attention to Reverend Evers and not engage.
  in unholy fantasies revolving around Johnny Depp dragging me off to be his pirate queen.
  

Despite my poor attitude, I am generally not someone who spends a lot of time in the principal’s office. Mr. Karp and Officer Ryan didn’t say a word as they walked down the hall, with me trailing after them. I had the feeling that we were going to get to Mr. Karp’s office and there would be an electric chair in there. Considering how much TES preached the value of life, they were huge fans of the death penalty. I wondered if they were going to torture a confession out of me, Guantanamo style. I wondered if they would tell me what I was accused of or stick with the silent treatment. The problem with the silent treatment is that you can end up confessing to something that they didn’t even know about. I could think of nothing I had done that merited police action, but it was possible I was in trouble for any of the following:

• Two weeks ago I had left a bunch of PETA “Fur Is Murder” flyers in the library return box. Mrs. Tucker, our librarian, always wears this nasty fox fur coat. It looks like it was dead and buried and then she dug it up to make a coat out of it.
  
• I smuggled my iPod into last Friday’s school church service (because going on Sunday apparently isn’t enough for the under-eighteen set). We were supposed to be meditating on how we could make the world a better place by sharing the Word of the Lord, and instead I had been rocking out to Fergie.
  
• We were supposed to go door-to-door and pass out leaflets on the church’s missionary appeal. The idea was that our youthful enthusiasm would make others want to hand us gobs of money that would be used to purchase Bibles for the missionaries to distribute. Personally, based on pictures I’d seen, I felt Third World countries needed fresh water and fly repellent more than Bibles. At any rate, instead of passing mine out, I’d stuffed them in a shoebox under my bed.
  
• TES has this theory that evil thoughts are as bad as evil deeds. If anyone knew half the things I’d been thinking about lately, I could be in big trouble.
  

Mr. Karp’s office was grim. No wonder he spent so much time wandering the hallways. It was clear that Mr. Karp did not watch the Home & Garden network. His desk was flat gray metal and his chair let out squeals and groans of protest every time he moved. The walls were a dingy white-gray color, and he had a giant framed picture of the Crucifixion on the back wall. On the other wall he had pictures of himself taken with what passed for important people in Wheaton, like the mayor and the owner of the Stop & Shop. The top of the desk was neat, with tidy piles of paper and folders stacked to the side. I sat in a hard wooden chair directly across from him. Officer Ryan sat off to the side. I gave him a tentative smile, but he didn’t smile back.

“Do you know why you’re here, Emma?” Mr. Karp asked.

I shook my head.

“Is there anything you want to tell me about what’s been happening lately?” he said meaningfully.

I took a deep breath. Colin must have confessed about us being at the Barn.

Shit.

Was this it? Was I about to lose my track eligibility? And why was Officer Ryan here? Was I going to be arrested for hiding underage drinking? TES has a real thing for reformed sinners. I could work up some big tears if it would help. In fact, it might not be that hard to work them up. My lower lip was already starting to shake. My stomach was in free fall. My throat felt too tight to let the words out.

“You need to tell us what you know about Todd,” Mr. Karp said.

My brain screeched to a halt.

“Todd?”

“We know the two of you are friends.”

“Todd Seaver?” I asked, in case there was a mystery Todd somewhere.

“Playing stupid isn’t going to help,” Officer Ryan said, his voice stern.

Mr. Karp looked over at him and then back to me.

“You don’t need to be frightened, Emma. Officer Ryan isn’t here in an official capacity. He’s the head of the parent advisory board and is helping us sort this situation out.”

Officer Ryan didn’t look like he was here in an unofficial capacity. He had on his uniform, complete with his Batman belt of police accessories. His hand rested on his Taser as if he was hoping I would make a break for the door. I wondered what he would do if I told him that the problem wasn’t Todd; it was his pharmaceutical-swilling daughter Kimberly.

“Mr. Reilly told us he overheard Todd Seaver telling you that it ‘couldn’t happen to a better group of girls.’ Is that correct?” asked Officer Ryan.

“It was just a joke.”

“You think it’s funny to joke about people getting hurt? That strikes your funny bone?”

“Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Mr. Karp said.

I turned to face him.

“Now you admit Todd said that?” Mr. Karp said, leaning forward.

“Well, yes, but he didn’t mean anything by it,” I said.

“Todd hasn’t made a lot of friends here at Trinity. How well do you know him, Emma?”

“We’ve only talked a couple of times. He seems like a nice guy,” I offered.

“Only a couple of times? We have someone who saw you get into a car with him yesterday.”

God, I hate this town. It’s like being on a reality TV show where there’s a camera on in every room. Big Brother…Wheaton-style.

“I fell yesterday when I was running, and he took me home.” I held out my elbow, pulling up the sleeve so the road rash could be seen.

“And he took you straight home?” Officer Ryan asked, stressing the word “straight.” The question smacked of one they already knew the answer to.

“No.” I drew the word out. “We went out to the Night Light and talked for a bit.” There was a long silence. “We were looking at the stars.”

“Looking at stars? So that’s what they call it these days.” Officer Ryan chuckled. Mr. Karp gave him a grim look and he stopped short, like a boy caught telling jokes during church service.

“What can you tell us about Todd, Emma?”

“Well, he’s from the Chicago area, but I’m guessing you know that from his school records. He likes horses and science. He’s into astronomy.” I shot Officer Ryan a look. “Not astrology. It’s different, you know.”

“That’s not what we’re interested in. How does he feel about the kids here at Trinity? Did he ever make any comments about hating it here?”

“I’m not sure people here are that nice to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not a great place if you’re not from here. I don’t think he ever really fit in very well, and this is the kind of place where fitting in is really important.”

“There you go. Fits the profile,” Officer Ryan said, slapping his hand down on his thigh.

“Profile?” I asked. I had the feeling that the reason that Officer Ryan was involved was one part because it involved his daughter, one part because he loved to stick his nose in things, and one big healthy dose of him watching too many episodes of
CSI
.

“There is an allegation that Mr. Seaver has been mixed up in the recent events here. We looked through his locker and found some suspicious items.”

“You think Todd Seaver is poisoning TES?” I asked in disbelief. “You think he’s trying to take down the school one popular girl at a time?”

“You said yourself that he hates his fellow students and doesn’t fit in. He’s quiet, most likely has some repressed rage over how he feels he’s been treated.”

“That’s not what I said.” I paused. “You’re twisting my words all around.”

“Did he confess to you how he was poisoning the girls?”

“What? No.”

“Emma, it’s important that you’re honest with us.” Mr. Karp leaned forward on his elbows. “You don’t need to worry. I understand. The devil is attractive. This is how he pulls us in. I can imagine you must have been flattered to have a boy paying attention to you. Maybe he used flattery. It can be easy to have our heads turned. We should pray about it.” Mr. Karp took my hands in his, but I yanked mine back.

“You think Todd is the devil?” I decided not to address the issue of him basically making it sound as if I were some kind of loser who would follow anyone who paid attention to me. Suddenly everyone seemed to feel it was important to point out just how unpopular I really was.

“I think the devil was in him. Must have been, to make him do something like this.” Mr. Karp shook his head and turned to Officer Ryan. “She’s right, you know. The boy never did fit in well here. He doesn’t participate in many of the school activities.”

“He’s Jewish. Wouldn’t it be a bit funny for him join the Spirit Squad! or plan the Easter celebrations?” I asked.

“I hear they have that Jews for Jesus thing,” Officer Ryan offered up.

I wanted to run screaming from the room. It was like being trapped in some kind of weird alternate reality. Somehow I was now responsible for defending Todd (the lip toucher), when I wasn’t even sure how I felt about him.

“Look, I really don’t think Todd had anything to do with the situation. I mean, it’s possible that the girls are doing it to themselves, you know how people hate to be left out of stuff.”

Officer Ryan crossed his arms over his chest. I got the feeling he wasn’t buying it.