Читать книгу The Field - Tracy Richardson - Страница 9

2

I STRUGGLE TO get my locker open for the third time. Why do I always get the crappy lockers? OK, just turn the dial to the last number and quickly lift the handle. It catches and I open the locker door. Finally. I start loading books from my backpack into the empty space. Kids are swarming through the hallway, rushing around before the first bell rings.

“Good day, young scholar.” My friend Cole leans up against the locker next to mine.

I smile to myself. “Hey.” I can see his feet from my bent-over vantage point. “Nice toe socks.” He’s wearing rainbow-striped toe socks with flip-flops. As I stand up, I see that his skinny legs are sticking out of blue jean cut-offs. “And shorts. Did I miss the text? Is the first day of school ’80s day?”

“You like? I joined the Gay-Straight Alliance and I’m showing solidarity with the rainbow socks. The ’80s look is just a bonus.”

“It’s definitely in line with your anti-establishment position.” A group of girls passes us and one calls out, “Hey, Eric. Hey, Cole—cute socks!” They all laugh.

“The unexpected bonus is the chick magnet factor. Who knew?” Cole smiles his lopsided grin.

“Yeah, who knew? But don’t they all think you’re gay? That kind of cuts down on the hookup potential.”

“Well, there is that to consider.” Cole is unabashed. I shake my head.

“What’s your schedule this year? Did you drop AP Environmental Science?” Even though he tries to hide it with lack of ambition, Cole is pretty smart.

“No, my parents applied the pressure/guilt trip that I need an advanced placement class to get into college, and I caved. At least it’s a cool class, and Mr. Ogle isn’t bad, from what I hear.”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to be a fantastic class. Man, it’s freezing in here. They’ve got the air cranked full blast.” I’m shivering in my shorts and T-shirt. I grab my hoodie out of my backpack, pull it on and shake out my hair.

“Do you find your luxurious wavy brown locks to be a chick magnet? Girls do seem to like the shaggy soccer player look.” The fluorescent lights are reflecting off of Cole’s glasses and I can’t tell from his face if he’s serious or not.

I give him a look. “If you say so.” Over Cole’s shoulder I see Will approaching through the throng of students. The three of us have been friends since elementary school. He claps a hand on Cole’s shoulder.

“Starting the year off on the right foot, Cole?” His gaze is on the toe socks. “Are you guys ready for AP Enviro?” Will is tanned and rock solid from spending the summer working construction and playing soccer. I know I don’t look too bad myself from being outside so much and working out. I’d like to think that’s a better way to attract girls than wearing toe socks. The first bell rings.

“Yup. Ready.” I slam my locker shut with my shoulder. “Let’s go.”

We make our way through the sea of humanity that is the student body of Monroe High School. As juniors we’ve been through the drill before, but it’s still incredible how many kids are here. One thousand per grade. Our lockers are in the junior hallway, so we see a lot of kids we know. But still. How many can you know out of one thousand people?

I follow Will into the classroom and glance around the room as the second bell rings. Most people are talking or taking out their notebooks. A dark-haired girl is sitting in the front row by the door. She looks up as we walk in. My gaze brushes hers, and my breath catches in my throat. A sudden zing runs through me, almost like a jolt of recognition. I must’ve stopped in my tracks, because Cole crashes into me from behind and I stumble, breaking the eye contact.

“Gentlemen, please take your seats,” says Mr. Ogle.

We grab three seats in the back, and I check out the girl from there. I’ve never seen her before. I would’ve remembered. Her straight dark hair falls below her shoulders, and she is sitting sideways in her chair, facing the front, so I can see her profile. She’s pretty in an unconventional way. Not Barbie doll pretty; more dramatic, with her dark hair and pale skin. I kick Cole’s foot across the aisle.

“Who’s that girl?” I whisper.

He shrugs. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yeah. Do you know her?”

“Negative.”

Mr. Ogle starts going through the usual first day of school routine, handing out the class ‘rules’ and syllabus with the website info.

“Welcome to Advanced Placement Environmental Science, where we explore all aspects of environmental science, including chemical, physical, and biological. This year we’ll be focusing a lot of attention on traditional and alternative energy sources and how their usage affects the environment. We have field trips scheduled to the Benton County Wind Farm and the Eagle River Coal Gasification Plant.” Cool. Field trips are always a good thing. Will is sitting in the seat in front of me and I tap him on the back of the head with my pen. His dad works at the Coal Gasification Plant. He reaches behind his head and tries to grab my hand.

“And I am pleased to tell you that we will have a very prestigious guest lecturer visit us this year. Dr. Auberge is a distinguished nuclear energy physicist visiting from the world renowned Overet Lab in France who is studying cutting-edge areas of alternative energy sources. He’s spending two years at the university and has agreed to come and teach a few of our classes, and,” Mr. Ogle pauses for effect and glances around the room to make sure he has everyone’s attention, “he is offering an internship in his lab, starting second semester, to one of the students in this class.”

There is a general murmuring in the room as everyone digests this bit of information. It’s usually a pretty competitive group in the AP classes, so there’s sure to be some interest. “Also, we have a new student in the class who happens to be Dr. Auberge’s daughter. Please welcome Renee Auberge.” He extends his hand toward the dark-haired girl by the classroom door. Renee. She inclines her head and smiles.

“Vous-êtes Française, mademoiselle Auberge?” Cole asks. Geez.

“Oui,” she answers in a clear, lilting voice—at least to my ears.

“Bienvenue à Monroe High,” says Cole, and he stands up and actually bows.

“Merci. Thank you,” she answers. It looks like she’s trying not to laugh. She’s looking at Cole, but could she also be looking at me? I nod and smile at her and she nods back. Will turns around slightly in his seat and gives me a lecherous look. Great. I hope that doesn’t mean that she’s caught his interest too. Maybe he’s thinking about the internship. I raise my eyebrows at him and shrug.

“Thank you, Mr. Rosenberg, for acting as our welcoming committee,” Mr. Ogle says. Cole makes a flourish in the air with his hand and inclines his head slightly before sitting down. “OK, now we have a lot to cover this year, so let’s get started. First semester we’ll focus on human energy consumption and its effects on the environment. We’ll look at the current practice of extracting and burning fossil fuels and compare that to alternative sources such as solar, wind, nuclear and so-called clean coal.” I see Will bristle at Mr. Ogle’s remark. “Hence the field trips.”

I take out my binder and start taking notes. The lecture is actually pretty interesting, and I’ve been looking forward to this class. Mr. Ogle is one of the cooler teachers, but he’s still kind of goofy in his corduroys and button down shirt—like he’s trying to dress like one of the hipster crowd instead of being stuck in the same ’80s time warp as Cole.

Forty-five minutes later the bell rings, and everyone slams shut their notebooks and starts gathering up their stuff. I glance toward the door at Renee. She’s putting her books into her book bag. I grab my backpack, slide out of my chair, and make my way over to her before I lose my nerve. I stop in front of her desk and she looks up at me.

“Uh, hi, um, I’m Eric Horton. And, ah, I can’t say it in French like Cole, but welcome to Monroe.” She looks at me with a slight smile like she’s waiting for me to say something else. My mind goes completely blank for a moment. Then I quickly say, “I could show you around school, ah, if you want, sometime. It’s a pretty big place.” Whew—hopefully that didn’t come off as completely stupid.

“Thank you.” She smiles, and it lights up her face and crinkles the corners of her green eyes. “I did get a tour and I have a map, but I could use some directions in finding my next class,” she says in perfect, slightly accented English.

“Sure. Show me the map. What room is your next class in?”

“Uh, let me see.” She stands up, propping her book bag on the desk, and reaches into its outside pocket with long, slim fingers to retrieve her schedule and a map of the school. “It’s comparative lit in A238. What section are we in now?”

“We’re in C section—science and math—second floor. You’ll need to go back over to the rotunda and then into the English department in section A. Here, let me show you.” I reach for the map and my fingers brush hers. Her skin is smooth and I feel that jolt to my gut again. I glance up at Renee, and her eyes are wide with surprise. Does she feel it too? I quickly take the map, unfold it, and smooth it out on her desk. “Just follow this hallway to section C’s center hallway and then over to the rotunda down this hallway and into section A. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Each section is like a spoke coming out from the rotunda and they’re all the same.”

“If you say so,” she says with a laugh. “Well, thank you again, Eric Horton. I’m pretty sure I can find my way now.”

“No problem. See you in class tomorrow.” I hand her back the map, careful not to brush her fingers this time, and smile what I hope is a confident, friendly smile.

“Bye.” She slings her book bag over her shoulder and enters the crowded hallway.

I pick up my own backpack from where I dropped it on the floor. Maybe I should have offered to take her to her class. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder and Will’s voice in my ear. “She’s hot!”

“Yeah, but I got to her first.” I say it lightly, but I really don’t like hearing him talk about her like that. No matter how hot she is.

Will backs away and holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I see how it is. Anyway, I already have a girlfriend. She’s all yours, big guy.”

“It’s not like that,” I say, annoyed. Will raises his eyebrow questioningly. “I mean, I just said hello to her.”

“Whatever,” he says. “Gotta get to US History. What lunch do you have? I’ve got B lunch.”

“Me, too. I’ll catch up to you then.”

“Later.”

As I jostle through the crowd in the hallway on the way to my Calculus class, I wonder about my reaction to Will and the weird feeling I got around Renee. I mean, I barely know her, but . . . what? There was something there between us. At least for me. And I just didn’t like Will saying that about her. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and head toward the central stairwell.

ACROSS THE CAFETERIA I see a table with some of my friends from soccer. I make my way over to them with my tray and take a seat.

“Eric, hey!” Paul says and gives me a five-star right between my shoulder blades. Uoof—the air is forced out of my lungs. Thankfully, I hadn’t started eating yet. I return the greeting by punching him in the arm—hard.

“Yow! You been working out?” He feels my biceps. “Coach Swenson says we’ve got a great team this year.” He’s talking through a mouthful of garlic toast. “We’re stoked to have you on varsity.” Paul’s a senior and team captain. “When do you find out if you’re starting?”

I swallow a mouthful of spaghetti before responding, “I don’t think we’ll know until the first game.” I’d thought about it all weekend. I am going to beat out the other keeper. My dad’s real big on visualizing the outcome that you want, and I’ve read some sports psychology stuff about it, so I’ve been imagining myself making great saves in practice and walking out on the field to start in the first game. I’m not sure how effective it really is, but what the hell? Our first game is a home game on Friday night. Will and Cole join the table and sit across from me.

“So, what do you think about AP Enviro? That internship sounds interesting. And Renee is definitely interesting,” Will says.

“Yeah, it could be cool. It would definitely look good on a college application.” I ignore his comment about Renee. I know he’s baiting me.

“Well, I have something interesting to share,” says Cole. “I’ve already paid a visit to the dean’s office.” He looks almost proud of himself.

“What?! We’re not even through the first day of school. What happened?” asks Will.

“During the Pledge of Allegiance in third period home room, I exercised my right not to stand and say the pledge. Mr. Smitson insisted that I do so and when I respectfully refused, he sent me to the dean’s office.”

“Oh, man! On the first day,” exclaims Will.

“He must not know that your mom’s a civil rights attorney,” I say, laughing.

“Apparently not.”

“Why didn’t you just stand and say the damn pledge?” asks Paul.

“It’s my right not to, as an American citizen, granted by the Constitution.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You object to the pledge using the rights granted to you by the Constitution?” Paul says.

“It’s ‘the man’ that I object to, the establishment, the right wing government. Not the Constitution.”

“OK, whatever, let’s not get off on that tangent. So what did the dean do?” I ask.

“Well, on the way down to the office, I called my mom to alert her to the situation. When I arrived at the dean’s office and explained my position, she laughed and told me to go easy on Mr. Smitson. She sent me back to class with a note. On the way back I called my mom to tell her the situation was handled.”

“Wow. This would only happen to you, Cole.” I lean back in my chair and balance it on two legs while holding on to the edge of the table. “You just can’t go with the flow.”

The bell rings. “Man, they only give us like ten minutes to eat,” Paul says and shovels the last few bites of spaghetti into his mouth.

“Paul, that is just gross. Would you at least close your mouth?” says Will. He pushes back his chair and picks up his tray. “See you guys at practice.”

“Adios,” I reply. I walk over and deposit my tray on the conveyer belt piled high with trays and trash slowly disappearing through a flapped window into the kitchen. Our first team practice is after school today. The hard part about competing with the other keepers for the starting spot is that most of the time we all train together, separate from the field players, since our position is so specialized. I’ll have to strike the right balance of competitiveness and cooperation to make the cut, I think as I make my way to my afternoon classes.