Perfect Chemistry 1 (8 page)

among their friends?

Alex whispers, "There's a thin line between love and hate. Maybe

you're confusing your emotions."

I scoot away from him. "I wouldn't bet on it."

"I would."

Alex's gaze turns toward the door to the classroom. Through the

window, his friend is waving to him. They're probably going to ditch

class.

Alex grabs his books and stands.

Mrs. Peterson turns around. "Alex, sit down."

"I got to piss."

The teacher's eyebrows furrow and her hand goes to her hip.

"Watch your language. And the last time I checked, you don't need

your books in order to go to the restroom. Put them back on the lab

table."

Alex's lips are tight, but he places the books back on the table.

"I told you no gang-related items in my class," Mrs. Peterson says,

staring at the bandanna he's holding in front of him. She holds out her

hand. "Hand it over."

He glances at the door, then faces Mrs. Peterson. "What if I

refuse?"

"Alex, don't test me. Zero tolerance. You want a suspension?" She

wiggles her fingers, signaling to hand the bandanna over immediately or

else.

Scowling, he slowly places the bandanna in her hand.

Mrs. Peterson sucks in her breath when she snatches the bandanna

from his fingers.

I screech, "Ohmygod!" at the sight of the big stain on his crotch.

The students, one by one, start laughing.

Colin laughs the loudest. "Don't sweat it, Fuentes. My great-

grandma has the same problem. Nothing a diaper won't fix."

Now that hits home because at the mention of adult diapers, I

immediately think of my sister. Making fun of adults who can't help

themselves isn't funny because Shelley is one of those people.

Alex sports a big, cocky grin and says to Colin, "Your girlfriend

couldn't keep her hands out of my pants. She was showin' me a whole

new definition of hand warmers, compa."

This time he's gone too far. I stand up, my stool scraping the floor.

"You wish," I say.

Alex is about to say something to me when Mrs. Peterson yells,

"Alex!" She clears her throat. "Go to the nurse and . . fix yourself.

Take your books, because afterward you'll be seeing Dr. Aguirre. I'll

meet you in his office with your friends Colin and Brittany."

Alex swipes his books off the table and exits the classroom while I

ease back onto my stool. While Mrs. Peterson is trying to calm the rest

of the class, I think about my short-lived success in avoiding Carmen

Sanchez.

If she thinks I'm a threat to her relationship with Alex, the

rumors that are sure to spread today could prove deadly.

TEN : Alex

Oh, this is rich. Peterson and Aguirre on one side of Aguirre's

office, Little Miss Perfecta and her dickhead boyfriend on the other . .

and me standing by myself. Nobody on my side, that's for sure.

Aguirre clears his throat. "Alex, this is the second time in two

weeks you're in my office."

Yep, that about sums it up. The guy is an absolute genius.

"Sir," I say, playing the game because I'm sick of Little Miss

Perfecta and her boyfriend controlling the entire fucking school.

"There was a little mishap during lunch involving grease and my pants.

Instead of missin' class, I had a friend get me these as a

replacement." I gesture to my current jeans Paco managed to snatch

from my house. "Mrs. Peterson," I say, turning to my chem teacher, "I

wouldn't let a little stain keep me from your brilliant lecture."

"Don't placate me, Alex," Peterson says with a snort. "I've had it

up to here with your antics," she says, her hand waving above her head.

She glares at Brittany and Colin. I think she's going to let them bitch

at me until I hear her say, "And don't think you two are any better."

Brittany seems stunned at the scolding. Oh, but she was perfectly

content watching Mrs. P. bitch me out.

"I can't be partners with him," Little Miss Perfecta blurts out.

Colin steps forward. "She can partner up with me and Darlene."

I almost smile when Mrs. P.'s eyebrows rise so high I think they're

about to run up her forehead and never stop. "And what makes you two

so special you think you can change my class structure?"

Go, Peterson!

"Nadine, I'll take it from here," Aguirre says to Mrs. P., then

points to a picture of our school framed on the wall. He doesn't let the

two north siders answer Mrs. P.'s question before he says, "Our motto

at Fairfield High is Diversity Breeds Knowledge, guys. If you ever

forget, it's etched into the stones at the front entrance, so the next

time you pass by it take a minute to think about what those words

mean. Let me assure you as your new principal my goal is to bridge any

gap in the school culture that negates that motto."

Okay, so diversity breeds knowledge. But I've also seen it breed

hatred and ignorance. I'm not about to taint Aguirre's rosy picture of

our motto, because I'm starting to believe our principal actually

believes the crap he's spouting.

"Dr. Aguirre and I are on the same page. In light of that . . ."

Peterson fires me a fierce look--one so convincing she probably

practices it in front of a mirror. "Alex, stop goading Brittany." She

fires the same look to the two on the other side of the room.

"Brittany, stop acting like a diva. And Colin . . I don't even know what

you have to do with this."

"I'm her boyfriend."

"I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your relationship out of my

classroom."

"But--," Colin starts.

Peterson cuts him off with a wave of her hand. "Enough. We're

done here and so are all of you."

Colin grabs the diva's hand and they both file out of the room.

After I walk out of Aguirre's office, Peterson puts a hand on my

elbow. "Alex?"

I stop and look at her. Into her eyes, which have sympathy written

all over them. It doesn't sit well in my gut.

"Yeah?"

"I see right through you, you know."

I need to wipe that sympathy off her face. The last time a teacher

looked at me like that, it was in first grade right after my dad was

shot. "It's the second week of school, Nadine. You might want to wait a

month or two before you make a statement like that."

She chuckles and says, "I haven't been teaching that long, but I've

already seen more Alex Fuenteses in my classroom than a lot of

teachers will see in a lifetime."

"And I thought I was unique." I put my hands over my heart. "You

wound me, Nadine."

"You want to make yourself unique, Alex? Finish school and

graduate without dropping out."

"That's the plan," I tell her, although I've never admitted it to

anyone before. I know my mom wants me to graduate, but we've never

discussed it. And, to be honest, I don't know if she actually expects it.

"I'm told they all say that at first." She opens her purse and pulls

out my bandanna. "Don't let your life outside of school dictate your

future," she says, getting all serious on me.

I shove the bandanna into my back pocket. She has no clue how

much my life outside of school leaks into the life I lead inside of

school. A redbrick building can't shield me from the outside world.

Hell, I couldn't hide in here even if I wanted to. "I know what you're

gonna say next. . . if you ever need a friend, Alex, I'm here."

"Wrong. I'm not your friend. If I were, you wouldn't be a gang

member. But I've seen your test scores. You're a smart kid who can

succeed if you take school seriously."

Succeed. Success. It's all relative, now, isn't it? "Can I go to class

now?" I ask, because I have no comeback to that. I'm ready to accept

that my chem teacher and new principal might not be on my side . . . but

I'm not sure they're on the other side, either. Kinda blows my theories

out of the water.

"Yeah, go to class, Alex."

I'm still thinking about what Peterson said when I hear her call

after me, "And if you call me Nadine again, you'll have the pleasure of

getting another detention slip and writing an essay on respect.

Remember, I'm not your friend."

As I walk into the hallway, I smile to myself. That woman sure does

wield those blue detention slips and threats of essays like weapons.

ELEVEN : Brittany

There's only a half hour left in gym. As I change into my gym

clothes, I think of what happened in Dr. Aguirre's office. Mrs.

Peterson was blaming me as much as she blamed Alex.

Alex Fuentes is already ruining my senior year, and it's hardly even

begun.

As I pull up my gym shorts, the sound of tap-tap-tapping on the

hard cement floor alerts me that I'm not alone in the locker room. I

clutch my gym shirt to my chest as Carmen Sanchez comes into view.

Oh no.

"It must be my lucky day," she says, staring me down and looking

very much like a cougar ready to attack.

Although cougars don't have long, straight brown hair . . . they sure

do have claws. And Carmen's claws are painted bright red.

She steps closer.

I want to step back. Actually, I want to run. But I don't, mainly

because she'd probably follow.

"You know," she says, her mouth quirked in a wicked grin. "I always

wondered what color bra Brittany Ellis wore. Pink. How fitting. I bet it

was as expensive as your dye job."

"You don't want to talk about bras and dye jobs, Carmen," I tell her

while I pull my gym shirt over my head. I swallow hard before I add,

"You want to kick my ass."

"When a ho moves in on my man, I get territorial."

"I don't want your man, Carmen. I have my own."

"Oh, please. Girls like you want every guy to like them, just so you

can have them when you decide you want them." As she's talking, she's

getting more riled up. I'm in trouble. "I heard you talkin' shit about

me. You think you're all that, Miss High and Mighty. Let's see what you

look like with a busted lip and a big, black eye. Would you come to

school with a garbage bag over your head? Or would you stay holed up

in your big house and never come out?"

I look at Carmen as she walks toward me. Really look at her. She

knows deep down how much importance I put on controlling the image I

portray, while she doesn't care if she's suspended . . or expelled.

"Answer me!" she yells, then shoves my shoulder. It collides with

the locker behind me.

I guess I wasn't listening because I don't know what I'm supposed

to answer. The consequences of me coming home bruised and having

been in a fight are insurmountable. My mom will be furious and blame

the entire thing on me for not preventing it from happening. I hope to

God she doesn't start talking about sending Shelley away again. When

stressful stuff happens, my parents talk about sending Shelley away.

As if magically all of the Ellises' external problems will be solved if

Shelley disappeared.

"Don't you think Coach Bautista will come here looking for me? You

want to be suspended?" I know, lame questions. But I'm trying to buy

time here.

She chuckles. "You think I give a shit about being suspended?"

Not really, but it was worth a try.

Instead of cowering next to my locker, I stand tall. Carmen tries

again to push my shoulder, but this time I manage to swat her arm

away.

I'm about to get into my first fight. A fight I'm bound to lose. My

heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest. My whole life I've

avoided situations like these, but this time I have no choice. I wonder

if I can pull the fire alarm to avoid this, like I've seen in the movies.

But of course I don't see one of those little red boxes anywhere near

me.

"Carmen, leave her alone."

We both turn to the sound of a girl's voice. It's Isabel. A non-

friend. A non-friend who just might save my face from getting bashed

in.

"Isa, stay out of my business," Carmen growls.

Isabel comes toward us, her dark brown hair in a high ponytail that

sways when she walks. "No chingues con ella, Carmen."

"Por que no?" Carmen asks. "Because you think you're BFFs with

blondie here now that you both wave stupid-ass pom-poms together?"

Isa puts her hands on her hips. "You're mad at Alex, Carmen.

That's why you're acting like a perm."

At the mention of Alex, Carmen goes rigid. "Shut up, Isa. You don't

know anything."

Carmen turns her fury on Isabel and yells at her in Spanish. Isabel

doesn't back off, she stands tall in front of Carmen and spouts Spanish

right back at her. Isabel is a short girl and probably weighs less than I

do, so I'm shocked she's standing up to Carmen. But she's holding her

own. I can tell by the way her words make Carmen back off.

Coach Bautista appears behind Carmen. "You three having a party

and didn't invite the rest of the class?"

"We were having a little chat," Carmen says, not missing a beat and

acting as if we're all friends hanging out.

"Well, then, I suggest you chat after school instead of during class.

Miss Ellis and Miss Avila, join the rest of your classmates in the gym.

Miss Sanchez, go to where you're supposed to be."