Shifting Page 15



“I’d rather walk. I need to be alone,” I told him between sniffles.


“But it’s raining,” Coach protested.


“Rain isn’t going to hurt me.”


“Maggie Mae, I can’t let you leave without calling Mrs. C. first. Wait right here.” Coach trotted toward the office.


I didn’t wait. Bridger’s dark gaze followed me as I made my silent, humiliated way to the front doors.


The day was uncommonly cold, yet I didn’t feel it. I was glad for the icy rain washing the filth from me as I slowly trudged through the mud puddles on the side of the road.


I hated my life. I hated school. I was so miserable I stuck my thumb out as cars passed, eager to hitch a ride with anyone, anywhere, if it meant never having to go to Silver High again.


Several cars passed, splattering me with mud, when a truck pulled to a stop in front of me. My heart started pounding as I asked myself if I was brave enough to get into that truck and go, empty-handed, into the wide world and fend for myself. I had nothing, not even my jacket—just the shirt on my back.


Someone wearing a bright yellow rain slicker got out of the truck and splashed through the roadside puddles to my side.


“Coach called me,” a familiar voice said. I peered beneath the slicker hood, into the anxious eyes of Mrs. Carpenter. “Let’s get you home. I’ll draw up a nice hot bath for you and make hot cocoa.” She put an arm around me and guided me to the car.


I couldn’t decide whether I was happy to see her or not.


12


Shash must have felt the anxiety coursing through my body and causing my stomach to hurt. He stuck to me like a shadow as I walked through the barn to the chicken coop.


The chickens either couldn’t sense my inner turmoil or they were too plain dumb to notice. They didn’t protest in the least as I reached beneath them and stole the warm brown- and green-speckled eggs from their nests and put them in a basket.


With the eggs gathered, I threw a cupful of grain onto the ground and locked the coop. Walking to the other side of the barn, I sat on the bottom step of a flight of stairs leading up to a padlocked door and sat. Shash followed.


“Trust me,” I said, stroking his soft forehead. “I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat.”


It was Tuesday morning, and I had to leave for the bus in twenty minutes. Mrs. Carpenter hadn’t said anything about me not going, so I was thinking up all kinds of excuses to keep myself away from Silver High. My throat hurt, I was having cramps, my vision was blurred, appendicitis … they were all lies, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t go back and face all of those students. I didn’t have it in me.


I would drop out and start a new life, maybe back in Albuquerque, working a minimum-wage job for the rest of my uneducated existence—if I could keep out of jail now that I was eighteen, legally an adult, and running the risk of getting in some real trouble for my indecent exposure. Even flipping burgers at McDonald’s till I was able to retire didn’t sound nearly as daunting as going back to school.


Shash whined.


“I know. Looks like I’ll be making another fresh start. Again.” I left the barn and trudged to the house. It was warm inside and scented with bacon. I carried the eggs to the kitchen, where Mrs. Carpenter was hanging up the telephone.


“That was my son, John,” she informed me.


Great, I thought, she’s called my psychiatrist.


“He’s glad to finally know the reason behind your indecent exposure,” she continued.


I almost dropped the eggs. “You told him?”


Mrs. Carpenter pursed her lips. “He says he can’t imagine why you didn’t tell him yourself. Nude sleepwalking isn’t common, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” She chuckled and took the eggs. “He says there’s a cure.”


“Oh, really?”


“Stop sleeping in the buff.”


I smiled and some of the knots in my stomach loosened.


“I thought I’d drive you to school today,” Mrs. Carpenter said as she cracked eggs into a bowl. The knots in my stomach retied themselves. “Thought we could go meet with the principal.”


“I can’t go back,” I whispered.


“It seems you need to make a choice today. You’re eighteen. You can do whatever you want with your life.” She faced me and put her warm hands on my cheeks. Peering right into my eyes, she said, “But never let another person’s actions dictate how you are going to live your life, Maggie Mae. You are a strong, smart girl. If you never return to Silver High, what kind of message is that going to send Danni Williams?”


“That she won.” The words hurt coming out, because the way I saw it, she had.


“Smart cookie, you are. I’ll be darned if you let her win.” Mrs. Carpenter dropped her hands from my face and started whisking the eggs.


“Is that what Mr. Petersen told you to say?” I asked.


“No. He told me to send you to the school in the next town over. Let you make another fresh start. I told him it was time you stood up for yourself and stayed put. So chin up. It’s time to show Silver City what Maggie Mae Mortensen is made of.”


Mrs. Carpenter and I arrived at the school fifteen minutes after class had started. The halls were silent. When we got to the principal’s office, Dr. Smith wasn’t waiting for us alone. Coach was in one of the chairs opposite his desk, and standing beside him was Ollie.


“Good morning, Opal,” Coach said to Mrs. Carpenter, standing so she could have his chair. “And Maggie Mae.”


“Hello, Maggie Mae,” Ollie said, holding his hand out.


I forced myself to stop wringing my icy hands and nodded at Coach, then shook Ollie’s hand. I took a seat beside Mrs. Carpenter.


“Good morning,” Dr. Smith said, adjusting his glasses.


“Well, Raymond, would you like to tell her or shall I?” Mrs. Carpenter, never one to beat around the bush, asked him.


“I want to tell her,” Coach interjected. He had a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes, the same look he’d gotten when I beat the school’s fifty-yard dash record. “Dave Whitlock and Mike Williams are suspended.” Coach smiled grimly. “They will not be returning to school for the rest of the week.”


“What about Danni?” I asked, my breath quickening.


“Danni’s not suspended,” Coach said. I opened my mouth to protest but Coach held up his hand. “She’s been expelled. If she wants to graduate, she has to find a new school to attend. She planned the attack on you, Maggie Mae. Got Mike and Dave to help her.”


A chill shivered down my spine.


Ollie cleared his throat. “Danni came over to visit me Friday night and asked about you, but I wouldn’t tell her any details of your case. She must have snuck into my office and stolen your file. I’m really sorry.”


“What about Bridger? What part did he play?” I thought of his bloody nose and wondered who’d given it to him. I wished it had been me.


“He was in the chem lab finishing up an assignment. When he heard the fight, he tried to get to you, but Dave fought him away, so he came and got me,” Coach said. “Dave hit him. That’s why his nose was bleeding.”


I bit my lip and tried to ignore the guilt bubbling up in me.


“Do you have anything to add, Raymond?” Mrs. Carpenter asked.


I looked at the principal. He didn’t need to add anything—I could see it in his eyes. He was cursing the day I came to his school. If I hadn’t come, none of this would have happened.


“I’m sorry for the unfortunate events that have surrounded you, Ms. Mortensen,” he said. “We have done everything in our power to maintain proper behavior at this school. No one else will harass you, but if they do, they will suffer consequences. You had better get to class.”


“ ’Kay,” I said, and stood.


Mrs. Carpenter and I left the office. “Do you want me to walk you back to the truck?” I asked.


“No, thank you, Maggie Mae. I’ll see you after school.” She wrapped me in a hug. “I’m proud of you,” she whispered. And then she strode away.


The bell rang and the halls filled with students, though there was such a subdued air about them, you’d think they were on their way to a funeral, not second period. I swung my duffle to my shoulder and started weaving my way through the crowd. But when I saw glossy black hair above square shoulders, I stopped.


Bridger must have felt my eyes boring into the back of his head. He turned around and his eyes met mine. I looked away and took a deep breath, and walked past him.


“Hey, Maggie Mae.” I stopped walking and found Ginger hovering behind me. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about what happened.”


“Thanks,” I said, stunned.


“Yeah.” She smiled and hurried away.


I took two steps when a hand came down on my shoulder.


“You survived.” Yana fell into step beside me, her eyes lingering on a purple bruise on my forehead.


“I suppose I did,” I said.


“I wanted to thank you.”


“For what?”


Yana grinned. “Getting Danni’s ass kicked out of school.”


I couldn’t help but smile. “Whatever.”


“So, you wanna work tonight?”


“Seriously?”


“Seriously. The motocross is in town and I have tickets. Naalyehe said if you’d cover for me, I can go.”


“Sure. What time?”


“Be there at four. I’ll walk you through the basics.”


“ ’Kay.”


“Awesome. I’ll see you at lunch.”


I walked the rest of the way to math alone. If I had been invisible for my first two weeks of school, I wasn’t anymore. I might as well have been in a cage with Warning! Keep your distance! Dangerous creature! signs on it. Because I was now Silver High’s main attraction.


I looked at myself in the mirror and winced, and not because the bruise on my forehead had turned ten shades darker. The Navajo Mexican had a dress code: black shirt and jeans without any holes, and long hair had to be in a ponytail or hairnet. Like that was a hard choice. Pretty easy dress code to follow, except the only black shirt I owned had a giant scarlet A painted on the front of it.

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