Sometimes Never, Sometimes Always by Elissa Janine Hoole

Author:Elissa Janine Hoole [Hoole, Elissa Janine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Family, english, Self-Perception, church
Publisher: Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.
Published: 2013-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

29. When you were a kid …

Mr. Dawkins isn’t impressed by the page I finally hand in, seventeen lame lines about each year of my life. I point out my use of metaphor—I’m a heavy anchor dragging everyone down—but he only rolls his eyes and gives me that wry teacher-face that says he thinks I could do so much better. He makes a deal with me, “because I know you have it in you.” He’s putting in enough points to keep my grade at a C for midterm, which is still going to make things interesting at home, but if I don’t revise and turn in a “worthwhile effort” within the two-week grade adjustment period, he’ll let the grade revert to an F. He also reminds me that people with a failing grade at midterm won’t be able to attend the Winter Carnival. I don’t care. It buys me some time.

“So … this means you’re really going to the concert with Kayla, right?” Darin falls into step with me outside the English room as I’m heading back for the last few minutes of study hall.

“What class are you supposed to be in?” Okay, so I’m not sure at what point I became a freaking hall monitor. What am I doing? “I mean … ” What do I mean? My brain is nothing but an endless stutter of stupid.

“You mean, why am I stalking you?” He grins, shaking a set of car keys. “I saw you walk past on your way to Dawkins’ room, so I left French on a bathroom pass. I was wondering if you wanted a ride home.”

“You are stalking me. Creeper.” My cheeks tingle, and I hope they’re not turning pink. I can’t even stand here like a normal person right now; I keep rocking up on my toes, all ridiculous. Everything about this moment feels strange and new, like the junior hall is a foreign country or something. I’m spending most of my conscious brainpower trying to keep myself from giggling, honestly.

“So I shouldn’t tell you all about the adorable puppies in my white van?” he asks.

So much for not giggling. “My mom will probably freak if I’m not on the bus.” Oh god, Cassandra, Empress of the Lame. What happened to growing a spine when it comes to my parents? “But I mean, I’m seventeen years old. I’m old enough to get into any strange white van I want, right?” I’ll cross my fingers she’s at the church again this afternoon. She doesn’t care so much about me being on the bus, but if I come home in some boy’s car she’s going to want to meet him, and that’s just awkward.

Darin smiles. “I’ll meet you at the doors by the junior lot. But, uh … I actually drive a ten-year-old compact car with a bad muffler, so don’t get your hopes up about the puppies, okay?”

Fifteen minutes later and I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Darin’s car, wishing I had some kind of witty banter planned out for this occasion.

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