Cracked Up To Be

Cracked Up To Be Page 13

"Hmm." I pretend to think about it. "Parker Fadley?"

"Not only that, you were on the Honor Roll with distinction. What does that mean? I've never been on the Honor Roll before."

"It means I was better than perfect."

"And modest. Must've worked pretty hard to get there, huh?"

"I worked my ass off."

He nods and goes back to filling in the ravine with his pencil. A couple of minutes pass and I wonder what he's getting at.

"That's it?" I ask. "Aren't you going to ask me what happened or how I went from top to bottom in such a devastatingly short amount of time?"

"Were you really making out with Chris in the change room? And that's why he and Becky are on a break?"

"Maybe," I say. "Hey, that wouldn't be why Chris isn't in art today, would it? He's not off somewhere crying about it, is he?"

Before Jake can answer, a burst of static and white noise fills the room. Everyone quiets and the secretary's voice explodes over the PA.

"Mr. Norton, would you please send Parker Fadley down to the guidance office?"

"You heard that, Fadley," Norton says. He gives me this look like I've done something wrong, but that's okay, since it is the only reason I ever get called down to the office anymore. "Get down there."

I grab my books and make my way out of the room, Jake's eyes on me as I go.

"It's not Friday--"

I stop talking as soon as I enter the office. This is unexpected: Grey and Henley are sharing space behind Grey's desk and both of them look superformidable.

But even more unexpected than that is Chris.

He's sitting in a chair in the corner looking so guilty I know I'll have to kill him when this is over.

I force a winning smile at all three of them.

"What's the occasion?" I ask.

"Sit down, Parker."

Henley and Grey say it in unison, but judging by the looks on their faces, they don't mean to. I shoot myself in the foot and laugh. They both frown at me and I sit. Chris stares at his shoes. I ignore the knot in my stomach. I'm a great improviser, but I generally prefer having an idea of what I'm getting into.

Grey starts us off: "Parker, do you have any idea why you're here?"

It comes to me like that: the math homework.

"No, ma'am." Pause. "Ma'ams."

Henley stands. She never wastes time, ever. She may have told my parents she was wholly committed to getting me back on the right track, but she has a school to run. I can trick Grey into chasing her tail, but Henley I can't trick into doing anything.

"Mr. Ellory has informed us you copied his last unit's worth of math homework--homework you were supposed to have completed on your own." She rests her hands on the desk and leans forward, nearly elbowing Grey in the face. I have the sense not to laugh this time. "Homework Mrs. Jones was generous enough to grant you an extension on to complete. On your own. What do you have to say for yourself, Fadley?"

I concentrate on not blinking. I hear that's a sign of weakness.

"Well, what's Chris's punishment?"

His head snaps up. "My punishment?"

"I just did what everyone expected me to do," I tell him. "You're the one who's not supposed to enable me."

He starts spluttering.

"Now, just a minute here," Grey breaks in with that watery voice of hers. "What Parker means is--"

"Enough." Henley's voice is as hard as her face. "Fadley's right, Ellory. You're not supposed to be enabling her and I speak for Ms. Grey and myself when I say we're disappointed in you. However, given the nature of your relationship with Fadley and her penchant for manipulating people, the fault does not entirely rest with you."

Chris exhales. That's when Henley focuses on me.

"Parker, everyone in this room is on your side. You're a smart girl; you know that. Did you really think you'd get away with this?"

I can't believe someone as smart as Henley would be stupid enough to ask that question.

"Obviously, I did," I say.

"Don't get smart with me--"

"But I am smart; you just said it yourself." I'd better quit while I'm ahead. "Look, I wouldn't have done it if Chris hadn't offered. It's all his fault for giving me the option."

Chris sits up. "If I hadn't, you would've found someone else--"

"Oh, really? Like who, Chris? I find it pretty fucking amazing--"

"Language, Fadley!"

"That you're sitting here acting like a victim of my calculating mind considering what I had to do to get that math homework--"

"She came to school hungover!" Chris blurts out before I can tell everyone he used his homework to get my goods. This is so great.

Grey and Henley stare at me.

"When was this?" Henley asks.

"He thinks I came to school hungover," I say.

I will kill him. Grey looks all disappointed. "Oh, Parker. Did you?"

"He thinks I came to school hungover," I repeat. "And besides, what I do in the privacy of my home is my business. You can't penalize me or take away my diploma for anything I do on my own time, in my own house, outside of--"

"But if you're caught drinking at school again, you will be expelled and you won't graduate. You know that," Henley says sharply.

Yes, yes, yes. I know that. I know that. I know that. I bite my cheek and nod, my chest tightening. I want to snap my fingers, but I won't do that in front of them.

I won't.

"Which brings us back to the issue at hand: copying Chris's math homework." Like I said, Henley doesn't waste time. She paces in the narrow space behind Grey's desk. "I only have one question, Parker. Why?"

"Well, it's not like I didn't try to get caught up."

It's not a total lie. There were a few nights where I stared at the homework and considered doing it. That should count for something.

"It's like every day I get further behind, no matter how hard I try to catch up, and it's all I can think about because I actually do want to graduate, but when I sat down and tried to do that stupid math unit it seemed so impossible, it made me want to kill myself."

It figures the last thing I should say is the first thing out of my mouth. The room gets so quiet I can hear the faint sounds of the chemistry teacher shouting formulas all the way down the hall through two closed doors. Henley stops pacing and glances at Grey, and Chris looks like I've slapped him across the face.

"Ellory," Henley says. "You're excused."

He forces himself out of the chair and looks all sad because of what I've said. I'd feel bad about it, but it's technically his fault I said it in the first place. As soon as he's gone, I put on my best sorry face, because this has the potential to get way out of hand.

"I didn't mean that," I say. "You don't need to call my parents."

"We have to call your parents now," Grey says.

"You said anything I say in this room is totally confidential, so we can trust each other! Don't you want me to trust you?"

"You'll never trust me, Parker."

I guess Grey's not as stupid as I thought or she looks.

But I can't let her do this.

"You can't tell my parents."

"Enough," Henley says again. The bell rings. "Ms. Grey, call her parents; arrange a meeting. In the meantime, I'll be discussing what to do about this math situation with Mrs. Jones. Go eat lunch, Parker. You're excused."

Chris is waiting for me at the end of the hall when I come out. I maneuver my way around students on their way to the caf to get to him.

"I can't believe you told them even after I made myself kiss you!"

"I can't believe you said you wanted to kill yourself!"

"I wouldn't have said it if you hadn't told!"

"I didn't tell!" Chris yells. People stare at us. He grabs me by the elbow, drags me down the hall and pulls me into an empty classroom. As soon as the door is shut, he turns to me. "Becky told." I cross my arms and wait. He looks nervous.

"Because she was mad at you, because of what we did--"

"How come she wasn't in the office with us?"

He shifts.

"Chris."

I have perfected the way to say his name when I want information he doesn't want to give. I hit exactly the right tone, frequency, whatever, and it never fails: he caves.

"She told Henley and Grey she was afraid of you because you're so... volatile, and then she cried until they let her go. But you can't blame them for believing her and--hey! Where are you going?"

I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.

My feet walk me to the gym at top speed while a terrified Chris follows ten paces behind and I keep thinking about my parents. My parents. I don't even want to guess what I'll have to sit through when I get home.

I am going to end Becky Halprin.

I push through the gym doors so hard they whack against the wall. The basketball players--Jake among them--stop playing and the cheerleaders' heads snap up from their carrot sticks and water.

"Becky!"

I storm across the court. Becky drops her carrot stick and stands, all white-faced and wide-eyed. She smooths her skirt and moves to meet me halfway. When I'm close enough and she's close enough, I reach out and shove her.

Hard.

"Holy shit," one of the basketball players says behind me.

The other members of the squad flank Becky instantly, but it doesn't matter. I only needed to shove her once, put the fear of God into her, that sort of thing.

And like I'd rob myself of the opportunity.

"Parker, don't," Chris says. I ignore him.

"I just realized it must really suck to be you," I say. "And it's all my fault."