Bully(20)

I need a North. I mentally sang to myself as I looked around for another partner. Almost everyone scampered to their seats as the five minutes came to a close. I glanced to Jared, who I don’t think even got out of his seat. Everyone probably rushed over to him.

This was the part of school I hated. The sinking feeling in my stomach reminded me of all the awkward times, before France, that I’d felt left out. Grade school was easy. I had friends and never had to feel lonely in these situations. High school had made me less confident and more introverted.

I was still down one partner and would be left odd man out again. Weary of this feeling after being accepted in France for a year, I grabbed the bull by the horns.

“Mrs. Penley, I’m missing a North. Is it alright if I make a threesome with two others?”

Snorts sounded around the room, while some whispered under their breath. I knew I’d walked into that one.

“Hey, Tate. I’ll do a threesome with you. My compass always points North.” Nate Dietrich fist-bumped his buddy as others laughed again.

Surprising myself, I threw back, “Thanks, but I think your right hand will get jealous.” The class erupted in Whoa’s and Burn!

It was that easy. Due to the use of a couple of immature quips today, I was able to regain a little respect from my classmates. Who knew? Pride hit me, and I had to bite back a smile.

“Does anyone need a North?” Mrs. Penley interrupted the barbs before Nate could shoot back with something else.

Everyone else was seated, meaning they had all of their partners. I kept my attention on Mrs. Penley, waiting for her to just tell me to find a threesome.

“She can be my North.” Jared’s formidable voice hit me from behind, sending shivers down my spine.

The teacher looked expectantly to me. This couldn’t be happening. Why hadn’t he gotten off his ass and found a North like everyone else?

“Well, Tate. Go ahead then,” Mrs. Penley urged me.

Spinning around, I practically huffed back to my seat without sparing a glanced at my North, and carved “Jared” on my paper…and I think accidentally on my desk, too.





Chapter 8


“So when do you come home exactly?” My Calculus homework was done, and my Government book was cradled in my lap as I video chatted with Dad.

“I’ll be home by the twenty-second for sure.”

Still more than three months away. My dad’s arrival back home would be welcome. My days felt lonely without him to share things with, and after my mom passed away from cancer eight years ago, our home was even emptier without him around. K.C. and I had spent time together, but she had a boyfriend. I was slowly making more friends at school, despite Jared’s latest blow to my reputation, but I’d decided to stay in this weekend and focus on planning for the Science Fair. I’d yet to decide on my research topic.

“Well, I can’t wait. We need a decent cook around here,” I chirped, holding my steaming cup of tomato soup. As light as my supper was, the cascading warmth soothed my body. My limbs were still adjusting to the cross-country practices.

“That’s not your supper, is it?”

“Yeah.” I drew out like “duh.”

“And where are the vegetables, the grains, and the dairy?”

Oh, here we go. “The tomatoes in the soup are the vegetable, there’s milk in the soup too, and I’ll make a grilled cheese to go with it if that’ll make you happy.” My playful air told my dad “see, I’m smarter than I look.”

“Actually, tomatoes are a fruit,” Dad responded flatly, knocking me off my pedestal.

Laughing, I put the cup down and picked up a pencil to continue my outline for the essay we were assigned on Henry Kissinger. “No worries, Dad. I’m eating fine. Soup just sounded good tonight.”

“Alright, I’ll back off. I just worry. You inherited my eating habits. Your mom would freak if she saw the things I let you eat.” Dad frowned, and I knew he still missed Mom like it was yesterday. We both did.

After a moment, he continued, “You’ve got August’s bills all paid, right? And you have plenty of money in your account still?”

“I haven’t blown my entire trust in a week. Everything’s under control.” He did this every time we talked. I had complete access to the life insurance my mom left me, and he still always asked if I had enough money. It was like I was going to go ballistic with my college fund without him looking, and he knew better. Maybe he thought he was doing his job as a parent the best he could from so far away.

My phone buzzed with a text, and I grabbed it off my bedside table.

Be there in 5.

“Oh, Dad? I forgot K.C. is stopping over. Can I let you go?”