Charlie opened the door and froze.
She was there in the hallway, standing by her locker, when Charlie emerged from the classroom, like usual. But she did the same thing to him every time he saw her. She was still small, but still made up for her size with her energy. Her blue eyes still sparkled. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail, tied with a bright blue ribbon. She was wearing a long-sleeved, bright blue button-up western-style shirt, her dark blue jeans, and her beloved, but worn, pink cowgirl boots. Charlie swallowed hard. His throat went dry. “It” started acting up again. He tugged at his khakis with a clammy, trembling hand.
Alyssa was there too. Charlie had been relieved when they finally started talking to each other again a few months ago. Charlie still couldn’t bring himself to look at her, though. She reminded him too much of her brother. She was standing next to her boyfriend, “Cowboy” Kurt, who was clearly as intent on Katie’s bright blue eyes and brilliant smile as Charlie was.
Someone slammed into the back of Charlie.
“Move it, stiff!”
Charlie moved aside, startled, but relieved that she couldn’t have known how stiff he was right then from behind.
Charlie swallowed hard again. He wiped his sweaty palms on his khakis, glancing down as he gave them another tug. Fortunately, “it’s” rebellion was hidden at the moment. His heart was dancing in his throat. This was his chance. Only one more day of school after today. If he missed out now, he’d have to wait the whole summer to talk to her. Charlie stepped forward. Then he came down the hall.
He still had the same blonde hair, the same somewhat stocky build, the same boyish grin. He was dressed in his letterman jacket over a Raider’s T-Shirt and loose blue jeans. He was heading straight for Katie with that grin right now. He glanced over at Charlie briefly, then back to Katie.
Charlie looked down at the red-and-white checkered floor. Three years and three months ago, Phil would have come over with a loud, “Hey, Charlie Boy!” as he put Charlie in a headlock and gave him a nuggie. It annoyed Charlie then. He missed it now.
His chance passed, Charlie sighed and turned and walked down the hallway. Someone bumped him. It was the “Cowboy.” Charlie smelled the strong mint on his breath. Too strong for Wrigleys. Definitely hiding something. Kurt looked down at Charlie’s Doc Martins and sneered. Charlie noticed Kurt’s belt buckle. Generic. Bought, not won. “How many farms did your daddy have to take to buy you those pretty shoes, Banker Boy?”
Charlie scoffed as Kurt walked by.
Amateur. Why resort to insults when rumors cause so much more damage?
Charlie watched him walk away with his unscathed ostrich skin boots that easily cost three times his 45.00 clearance rack shoes, dark Levis that had seen little dirt or wear, and a still sharply pressed Western shirt. He wanted to shout out to Kurt and ask him how many teeth his daddy had pulled to buy his cute outfit, but he decided it wasn’t worth the black eye. There were quieter ways to get even.
Charlie glanced down at his sturdy Docs. He had no idea they were popular until he wore them to school.
He didn’t really care what Kurt thought of him. But he knew that the real farmers, the ones with more than a quarter acre on the edge of town with a horse and a few chickens, felt the same way about him. Like every article of clothing he wore, and every bite of food he ate was stolen from them. Like his whole existence threatened their very livelihood.
Charlie froze and groaned. Crap. Cade.
Cade, broad-shouldered, with his muscular arms and wavy sandy brown hair that had grown longer since wrestling season ended, was getting something out of his locker. He was wearing one of his typical “No Fear” shirts. Today’s said, “Does not play well with others.”
Charlie scoffed. Yeah, that summed Cade up all right. He waited, ignoring the people grumbling as they passed him, until Cade closed his locker and headed down the hallway.
*********
Katie saw Phil standing there, but she opened her locker as Kurt sauntered away. She stood on the tip of her cowgirl boots and hunted intently for something on the top shelf while Phil stood there, his fake smile slowly melting to a scowl. He cleared his throat, but she dug deeper through the papers. Phil bit his lip and stared at the ground, then walked away.
Katie relaxed, suddenly forgetting what she had been looking for.
Alyssa glared at her. “What the hell, Katie! The hottest guy in school tries to get your attention and you give him a cold shoulder? What gives?”
Katie just shook her head and laughed as she closed her locker and started down the hall, Alyssa by her side. “You know that grin of his is as fake as Kurt’s belt buckle, right?”
Alyssa gave a “humph” and looked at the floor. Then she got a cruel grin on her face. “You see your puppy dog?”
Katie sighed. “Yes, I saw Charlie. And I told you not to call him that.”
Alyssa shrugged. “Whatever. When you gonna tell him? It’s kinda cruel the way you leave him hangin’ like that.”
Katie sighed, “I… I know… I just… don’t want to hurt him.”
Alyssa shook her head. “You’re just making it worse.”
The tardy bell rang shrilly overhead. They winced and ducked through the doorway. Katie groaned. Just one more day of being controlled by that damnable bell.
*******
Charlie put his head down and threaded his way through the crowded hallway, not daring to look at anyone. He couldn’t bear it on a good day. He didn’t want to see what they thought of him, and knew he couldn’t resist the temptation to strike back. Not today.
He got caught in the jam at the stairway and had to wait in line as the stream of people flowed down one side past another stream flowing in the opposite direction. He drew himself in, trying to avoid contact with anyone else. Charlie hated it when the stairs were crowded. He felt like he was part of a herd being driven somewhere he had no desire to go.
He especially didn’t want to go today.
At the bottom of the stairs, he slid through the thinning crowd to his locker. He was mostly among the freshmen now. There hadn’t been enough room for everyone to move lockers, so he offered to keep his own. It made it easier to remember his locker number and combination, and he was just as uncomfortable around the freshmen as he was around the kids in his class, so it didn’t make much of a difference anyway.
He opened his locker, quickly grabbed a grocery sack holding three bags of tortilla chips, and headed back to the stairs.
Off to the fiesta.
Ole!
This is going to be hell.
Remind me why we took Español again?
For her.
Like it’s actually going to make a difference.
I want to hide.
Let’s drop the chips at the door and run.
Abandon chips!
The warning bell sounded, sending the last few stragglers scurrying. He opened the door and looked in cautiously. When he was sure the coast was clear, he slipped down the stairs and into the basement. He slunk through the lunchroom to his Español class.
His heart started beating faster as he heard the nauseating music throbbing from the classroom.
It’s just music. It’s just music.
I think we’re going to lose what’s left of supper right now.
It’s just music. It’s not….
His heart stopped when he opened the door and stepped inside the classroom. The tardy bell blared, but he didn’t even flinch.