Chapter 3

They were walking more or less slowly toward the car. Had to be slowly; she was still in high heels and her formal.

“We got a party to go to,” said Lance, “so stop worrying about the guy. He’s a genius, we all know that. He’ll be fine.”

“I guess, but the few times I checked him out tonight it seemed like he hadn’t moved an inch since we first saw him,” she said.

“He hadn’t,” said Lance. “He was making a statement. And we’d made ours: no blackmail, period,”

Coming up to the car, she saw it. “A corsage,” she said, “an orchid. It’s from him.”

“Shit, he really is making his statement isn’t he. Well, it is what it is,” he said. “Let’s go.”

She corralled the corsage and put it in the back seat of the one-year-old Buick. “I really will be having to pay him back. Probably a few hundred bucks. I wonder if he’d hired a limo?”

“Time to think about that stuff next week,” he said. “And I’ll do the paying. I’m the one who highjacked his date.” She snorted.

“Yeah right,” she said.

I finished each and every final early, and headed out, us seniors didn’t need to hang around if we were done for the day. The underclasses did but we didn’t. By Thursday, I was done with mine, and was in the parking lot heading for my car. She was leaning against the driver’s side door. I stopped some twenty feet from her.

“Thank you for the corsage,” she said, “it was very pretty.”

“Yeah, I looked to find the best one I could. You need to move so I can go home,” I said.

She came toward me and reached out to hand me an envelope. I looked at it; I knew what it was.

“If you try to give me that, I will never speak to you again as long as I live, and I will rip it up and throw it away in any event,” I said. She literally stumbled back in surprise.

“But I owe you for...”

“Yes, lying to me, but money will never cover the cost of that, believe me” I s. Truth is everything to me,” I said. And I got in my car and drove off.

“The little shit wouldn’t take the money! I couldn’t believe it,” she said. “Lance, I should have done it different. I don’t know how I should have done it, but I should have.”

“We, that’s we, hurt him more than I thought we would. Now we do have a problem or no problem,” he said.

“Huh?” she said.

“We either make it good by him some way, or, we just forget it and get on with our lives, same for him,” he said. She nodded, but it was a dubious nod.

“Look, I’m going to try and talk to him, reason with him. If he will, then we’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. If not, then not,” he said.

“Okay, I guess that’s all we can do,” she said.

It was Thursday again, and school was out. I wondered how she felt about how she’d done me, but I sure as hell was not about to ask her. Hell no. At any rate grades were in and mine were good, as usual.

Once again, I was in the lot headed for my car, and once again I had a visitor leaning against the driver’s side door. But this time it was him; I guess they’d decided to take turns.

“Get away from my car. You got your own,” I said, and I marched toward him intending to bump him out of the way if he didn’t move. Just as I got up to where he was, he did move—suddenly.

“Whoa there kemo sahbee! I just wanted a word. Really,” he said.

“I don’t, goodbye,” I said.

“Come on man. We messed up. I admit it. It was my fault. Really,” he said. “She just wants to make it up to you. So do I.”

“You can’t,” I said. “The stab wound in my back will never heal.”

“Look, there is always a way. Please. Talk to me. Talk to her. There must be some way we can make this right,” he said.

Just then, just as he got done saying what he said; I had an idea. She’d tell me to fuck off, but at the least of it she would know how I felt, how deep the hurt was.

“Send her around to see me,” I said. “Next Wednesday at my house.”

I knew we’d all have gotten our final exam grades and our semester grades as well on Tuesday. I needed her to have hers before we talked.

He looked surprised. “Okay,” he said. “Will do.” I nodded, got in my car, and left.

“He’s willing to talk to me? What did you say to him?” said Penelope.

“Not a lot. Just that we both would like to make what we did right. Told him we’d do anything we could: me, you, whatever. That he just had to give us a chance,” he said. “I guess he finally believed me. I mean I don’t know what I said that made a difference.”

“Well, okay then it’s all good, right?” she said.

“Sounds like it,” he said.

“Did he say when he’d like to have this little meet up?” she said.

“Yes, he did. He said Wednesday and at his house.” She looked him askance, but shrugged.

“Okay, it shall be so,” she said.

And then it was Tuesday. I got my grades and they were the usual. I didn’t see her right away, but I did kinda hang around hoping to see if she cared enough to inform me of her success or lack thereof.

I headed for the cafeteria it was lunch time and I was actually somewhat hungry.

“Can I buy you lunch?” she said coming up behind me.

“Sure,” I said. “It shouldn’t set you back too much since it’s free.”

“Oh goody,” she said. “So, since I’m buying can we sit together to eat it?” I nodded in the affirmative.

“Got my grades,” she said.

“Oh?” I said. Of course, I knew she had, everybody had.

“Kinda disappointed me actually,” she said. My look must have telegraphed my surprise, no shock, at her words.

“Oh?” I said.

“Yes,” she said. “I did get an A+ on the senior project, but only regular A’s on the other two you helped me with.” She was smirking.

I snorted my feelings per her weak attempt at back-assed humor.

“Oh, I apologize for failing you,” I said.

“Mister, I owe you for this. It almost certainly means I’ll be accepted into the program,” she said.

“You mean in spite of my failure,” I said.

“Oh, and I will be at your place tomorrow per our other topic of conversation,” she said. “Time?”

“My mom’s out of town for the week. Relatives upstate in Flagstaff. How about 6:00 p.m.” I said. She looked at me kinda sideways.

“Okay,” she said kinda slowly. “Six it is.”

Lunch was over. Back in our classrooms, all we were doing was cleaning out our lockers and desks and such.

She was five minutes late. Traffic must have been heavy. “Am, I late?” she said. I shrugged; her rhetorical question didn’t call for a verbal response.

We went into the dinette and took our seats. She knew the routine. She’d been to our place often enough in past years.

“Your boyfriend said you had something to say to me. That right?” I said. She nodded. She seemed confused by my noncommittal tone.

“Lee ... are we all right?” she said.

“Not yet, no,” I said.

“Lee, I’m here to do or say what I can to make things right. I did you wrong...” she started.