Of course, no one raises their hand because they know however they tell it, their weekend will sound boring and lame. And no one wants to be that. But my insides are squirming for entirely different reasons. Obviously my weekend was anything but boring, but I'm darn sure, I don't want to share it. So as he walks around the desk and grabs the seating chart, I'm pleading in my mind, Please don't pick me, please don't pick me.
“Well, if there are no volunteers,” he says, “I will pick someone. Let's see, how about Miss Reynolds? Stand up please and tell us about your weekend.”
You've got to be kidding me.
I don't stand up, but say, “Um, I really didn't have a typical slice of life weekend. Could you choose someone else?”
“Nonsense. Please stand up,” the sub says. The class becomes dead silent.
I still don't stand up, but say, “Um, how about I tell you about a different slice of life weekend?”
“No, I would like to hear about this weekend.”
He's being difficult, so I say with a pissy voice, “I thought the whole point of this exercise is to show the typical and mundane goings on in life. I'm telling you my weekend wasn't typical. It was anything but.”
I mean it's not that most of the class hasn't heard about my weekend. I'm sure there's some great gossip going around and if it wasn't all about me, I would probably want to hear it, but there is just so much involved, and I'm not sure I can get through it without a break down.
“Miss Reynolds, you are being insubordinate and just plain stubborn. Even if your weekend wasn't typical for you, I'm sure others have had similar experiences. We are all friends here.”
Like he'd know.
I seriously doubt there are any others that have had a weekend like mine. In fact, I'm sure of it. I'm also getting mad at this man.
Very mad.
“Stand up now and tell us about….”
Suddenly, Ricky Leeman stands up behind me and says, “I'll do it. Let's see, on Friday we had a track meet….”
“Mr. Um….,” the substitute says, consulting the chart again, “….Leeman. Sit down.”
But Ricky doesn't sit down. He leans up from behind me and says quietly, “JJ, you don't have to do this. Just leave. Come on, I'll go with you.”
Ricky surprises me. He's being so kind, but risking getting into serious trouble. The sub is furious at him.
The class is murmuring a bit, they know he's about to blow.
I mean this man is supposed to have an education of some kind, you would think he'd have a clue that something is up.
But no. He's too puffed up on power to take a look around him.
“That will be enough. You all had plenty of chances to volunteer, and I'm in charge of this class. I will not tolerate such a blatant lack of respect. Mr. Leeman, if you do not sit down and stop the interruptions, you will go to the principal's office.”
“Can I go to the Principal's office?” Part of me wants to run away, but now, because my insides are boiling mad, part of me kind of wants to tell this idiot all about my slice.
Just for shock value.
“Absolutely not. You will stay here. Please begin. Now, Miss Reynolds.”
“Fine.”
The grief inside me is suddenly gone and all that's left is anger.
“Where should I begin? Well, like I said, this weekend was so not typical,” I roll my eyes. “Thank God. I don't think I could live through another one.”
“Teen angst,” the sub interrupts, “I like it so far.”
Smart ass. Well we'll see if you say that when I'm done.
“Well, lets see, I go to a party where I get dumped by my boyfriend. Needless to say, that upset me and I was going to leave, but then a guy friend of mine shows up, told me not to leave and, well, kissed me.” I can't help but smile a little smile about that. It was the one bright spot of the whole damned weekend. “Okay. So ex-boyfriend sees me kissing said friend and tries to humiliate me in front of everyone. When that doesn't work, he starts a fight. Another friend drags me out of the party and back to town. We stop to get gas and his cell phone rings. It's his dad who, believe it or not, has been looking for me. It seems that my parents were in a car accident.” I swallow hard. “We speed through town and get pulled over by the police. Luckily, it's a nice Westown officer, who drives us to the med center.”
I glare straight into the evil substitute's eyes and smile an obviously fake smile as I continue, “When we get there, I find out that my mom is dead. Oh, and my dad dies a few hours later.”
I can feel the tears wanting to come, but I push them back.
Just stay mad, I tell myself.
“That is not very funny, Miss Reyn…” he starts to say.
I look at him and smirk. Told you!
I interrupt the idiot and say, “You're very right. It is so not funny. But it's the truth.”
“And that,” I say with a curtsey to the class, “is a slice of MY LIFE.”
I grab my books and storm out the door.
I can hear the teacher ask the class if it was true.
I hear him mutter, “FU-” before the door closes.
I stomp in an angry daze out to the empty commons area, sit down, and let out a big sigh. Ricky Leeman is on my tail. He sits down, puts his arm around my shoulder and says, “God, what an asshole. You okay?”
“Yeah, I'll be fine. So do ya think the sub liked my slice of life?”
“Well he dropped the f- bomb in front of the class, so I'm guessing not. I don't think we have to worry about him coming back.”
“You know I appreciate what you tried to do in there and well, no offense, but how come you're being so nice to me?”
“Um, well, I feel really bad about what happened to your parents and, well, I'm kinda in charge of you this period.”
“In charge of me?”
I don't like the sound of that.
“Well, yeah, I mean I am the only guy from the team in AP English, but I would've volunteered anyway.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“Uh, um....I take it you didn't hear about the meeting?” He grimaces.
“Evidently not. Enlighten me, please.”
“Um, well, maybe I wasn't exactly supposed to tell you that,” he says, suddenly nervous. “You know what? I think I'm gonna go get Phillip. That's what I'll do. You stay here.”
He gets up, but sees Phillip heading down the hall toward us.
Phillip rushes over, “Shelby came and got me out of study hall. What are you doing here? Are you okay? Do you want me to take you home?”
Being mad is much easier than feeling sad, so I say in a perturbed voice, “No, Phillip, what I want is to know what's going on around here.”
Ricky touches my arm. “Hey, I'm gonna go. Sorry about your parents, JJ.”
Chicken.
“Uh, thanks, Ricky, I really appreciate what you did.”
I turn to Phillip. “Phillip? I asked you a question.”
“Oh, it's not a big deal or a big secret or anything. We were just kind of keeping it quiet because Danny knew you'd react like this because you're stubborn and hard headed.”
“Danny?” I shake my head, trying to understand. “What does Danny have to do with this?”
“Well, he sort of met with the football team.”
“The football team? Why?”
“Well, not everyone, mostly just the seniors and a few juniors, and well, Coach and Mazer too.”
This is mind-boggling.
“Why?”
“Well, Danny knew he'd have to go back to Lincoln right after the funeral. He felt like he was abandoning you and worried about how you'd do when you came back to school. He just wanted to make sure you'd be okay and that someone was around if you needed anything.”
Most of me wants to throw a fit and scream, I can take care of myself, but the other part of me feels grateful and loved. Because, awwww, that was really, really sweet of Danny. That's how my life has been this week. An emotional roller coaster. Two stupid sides to every feeling I have. I think I liked myself better when I just thought my side was always right.