Chapter Four

The rest of the class was uneventful. Everyone worked quietly, trying to focus on their writing. I am sure we were all wondering what tortures lay ahead. I took a little solace in the subtle burn that Chill managed to lay on the teacher. It was things like that which made Chill popular with guys—his ability to get under a bad teacher’s skin without ever taking it to a level to get in any real trouble. That and the story from elementary school where he broke the kid’s leg in six places and fractured his ribs.

He wasn’t popular like “going to all the parties” popular or captain of the soccer team popular. It was more of an “allowed to do what he wanted without a lot of ridicule from fellow students” popular. He got a lot of respect.

Chill knew he had that respect, and he gave that same respect to everyone. He wasn’t a part of any clique; he talked to jocks and computer geeks alike. But I was his only close friend.

Girls liked Chill’s confidence, but Chill was only interested in one girl—Sara Langdon.

Sara was awkward, clumsy even, but I think that was mainly because she always had her arms filled with books. She held the books tight against her chest and had an overloaded backpack over her shoulder.

She carried it all with her so that she could avoid her locker and hide out in the cafeteria or library. Her method of serving time in high school (and everyone needs some method) was to make herself invisible. And she was to everyone but Chill.

She was cute enough, in a plain, glasses wearing, bookworm kind of way, but I didn’t see the attraction.

After completing my assignment, I looked over at Chill. He was watching Sara, who sat at the back in the seat closest to the door. I hadn’t noticed her being there before that.

When the bell rang, Mr. Sfinkter told everyone to hand in their assignments.

I took Chill’s up with me.

“You didn’t say they were due at the end of class,” Mac said.

“I’m saying it now.”

“But, I’m not finished.”

“Then you’ll be starting the semester with an F.”

“I can give you what I’ve got,” Mac said.

“If it isn’t finished, I don’t want it.”

“But...”

“But,” Mr. Sfinkter mocked. “May I remind you that you are already on probation? I don’t like to be pushed.”

Then I heard the books fall. I didn’t have to look to know they were Sara’s. I also didn’t have to look to know that Chill would already be there to help her pick them up.

Mr. Sfinkter did need to look. He sighed loudly and shook his head disapprovingly. Then he returned to the book he’d been reading all class.