Chapter 3

It was Thursday when I went back to school. Yuck, I wouldn’t say I liked it. I was able to reacquaint myself with my friends and things. It was like a class reunion—fat chance of hearing anything new. I saw Jackie in the hallway between the first and second periods. I just turned and walked the other way.

At lunchtime, I had a hot lunch in the cafeteria—something I usually skipped to walk around the block with my loser friends. I guess, truth be known, they were just losers, not friends. I am sure you had a similar group in your high school. They were known as ‘the stoners’. What can I say? I had reached maturity and realized they were not people I wanted to hang around.

Since I didn’t normally eat here, I didn’t have a regular place to sit. I was also one of the last ones served, and there was a complete lack of seating—except in the far corner, a table that would seat six, and only Beth, the bookworm, was sitting at it.

Well, a seat is a seat, I thought to myself. So, I went over and sat across from her. She looked up and fidgeted some at my complete lack of manners. Maybe I should have asked, but I was sure she would have said ‘no,’ and there was nowhere else to sit down.

“Hello,” I said, trying to be polite.

“You’re at the wrong table.”

I looked around me like I was considering moving. There was nowhere else I could sit, even if I wanted to.

“Doesn’t look like I have many choices.”

“You’re a stoner. Don’t you normally smoke your lunch?”

“No. I used to hang out with the stoners, but I never really fit in with them,” I said.

This got her attention, and she looked up at me. “So, you are not a pot-head then?”

“Only ever tried it once. All I got from it was light-headed from all the coughing.”

She giggled. Oh, that was the first time I looked at her face. She wasn’t really all that homely looking. If she lost the black glasses, took her hair out of the bun, and didn’t wear those loose-fitting clothes, I thought maybe she would look cute. After all, the ‘librarian look’ didn’t suit her.

“So, what are you reading?” I asked as I took a bite of what passed for a hamburger.

“Well, not that you would be interested, but it’s called ‘Somewhere in Time’.”

“Really? Wow, isn’t that the one where the guy wills himself back in time? I mean, it’s a love story/tragedy, right?”

I knew it was because I had seen the movie a few times. Well ... what can I say? Jackie had loved the movie. And it was one of the first movies we ever owned on VHS because of that little fact.

“You have read it?” she seemed very surprised.

“Not that book; however, I did see the movie.”

“What movie?” she asked me in surprise.

I stopped to think for a moment, shit! I had done it again. Now I was in this mess because I had just answered without thinking.

I replied, “Oh, the one they plan on making next summer.” At least, I hoped it was next summer. It was strange how clear my memory had become in my young body. However, it didn’t help much in areas I hadn’t paid much attention to.

She stared at me like I was a pothead who had just said the most stupid thing one could imagine. I just figured out what I had done and had to cover somehow.

Then there was this voice in my head again. ‘PBS’.

‘Thanks,’ I thought. Thank God they intervened.

Hey, are they supposed to be helping me?

“There was a special on PBS yesterday. They were making plans to film the movie up on the Island. They are still trying to get special permission for a motor car on the island.”

“I didn’t see it.”

“You were in school at the time,” I offered.

“Right, and I am supposed to believe you were at home watching PBS when you should have been in school.”

“I was sick. I had pink eyes,” I tried to show her, but my eyes were still somewhat red. I couldn’t come to school and risk giving it to the rest of the class, could I?”

“I don’t think the stoners would have noticed.” She said with that irritating tone of disbelief in her voice. This was not going as well as it could have. Here we are, back to where we started. Then, it struck me as funny because she was right. They had bloodshot eyes most of the time, anyway. So, I laughed. Okay, it was more like a chuckle. Still, it was funny. She looked at me like she wanted to know what I thought was funny.

“You know, you’re right. Their eyes are usually bloodshot, and they probably wouldn’t have noticed it.”

She giggled. I guess she thought it was funny as well. Then she smiled. Oh, there was that smile again. I could get used to her infectious smile.

“So, what do you read?” she asked me.

“Sci-fi, mainly ... Heinlein, Clark, and the like. Ben Bova is good as well. There are some others.

“You like Heinlein?”

“Yes, do you?”

“He is my favorite. So, what’s your favorite TV show?”

What’s with the shift in topics? I thought it was odd, anyway. Also, I did not want to blurt out something that didn’t exist yet this time. So, I acted like I was thinking about it carefully. I was thinking hard about telling the truth. Finally, I spoke, “Well, I like Masterpiece Theater; Nova is pretty good. I like the photography series they run the best.”

“Oh, that’s right. You normally run around with that camera when you’re not hanging out with the stoners,” she stopped short. Sorry.”

She was apologizing to me! Wow, now that was something different.

“Don’t worry about it. After all, it was true up until today.”

She looked at me funny.

“So, are you planning to be a photographer when you leave school?”

“Nope. I am already a photographer. The only problem is that I am not well known yet.”

She smirked at my response. So, I continued.

“I was planning on being a doctor, but I get queasy at the thought of all that blood.”

“You are serious?”

“Ok, I confess. The blood doesn’t bother me. But I have been very lax about my grades, and I don’t think I can bring them up enough for medical school. So, what are you planning on becoming?”

She was shocked but smiled and said, “I’m a doctor. I want to deliver babies.”

“That’s great; I think women would be more comfortable with a female doctor for something like that.”

She smiled, “That’s true, believe me.”

That’s when I remembered she had been raped when she was 13. A pregnancy resulted, and, well, she finally lost the child because her body was too young for the process. She must have seen the look on my face.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“It just occurred to me that I could always do a special photo spread on childbirth. I have seen some of the stuff out there, and it’s not all that good.”

“Now you’re not telling me the truth; that is not what you were thinking,” she said, looking disappointed in me.

“Well, I was thinking about it when you said you wanted to be a baby doctor. Then I remembered your ordeal and wanted to spare you from that, so I just returned to my thoughts from before.”

She looked sad for a moment.

“I see. Thank you, but I wish people would talk to me about that.”

“Why is that?”

“Because it helps. I mean, all this horrible stuff happened to me, and no one is willing to talk to me about it but the doctors.”

“Well...” I said, swallowing the last bite of the tire I had been served. I will listen if you want to discuss any of it.”

The bell rang, telling us we had five minutes to get to our next class. ‘Great,’ I thought, thinking she was opening up, and now there was no time.

“Think about it. If you’re sure, we can talk about it all you want at lunch tomorrow.”

She was standing and almost fell over at my statement.

“You would want to hear what I had to say?”

“You’re the only one that knows what happened. If you want to talk, I will keep it all to myself. So, you’re free to talk all you want.”

I offered her my hand to steady her, and she took it. Ok, her hand was pleasant, and she didn’t pull away. If she needed to talk with someone her age, I would be willing to do so. Well, at least I was physically her age. Then again, she was far more mature than most teenage girls. When it comes right down to it, that is.