Trigger (14 page)

I had stuff to figure out even though I didn’t have my book to write everything down.

One glued trivet and one patched-up little flowerpot later, Mama Rush and I had crossed
my life sucked
off the list.

Okay, so, the toothbrush cup wouldn’t hold water. The flowerpot had a big chunk out of the rim, and the trivet only had three straight sides. The fourth side looked like a clay-eating mouse had chewed it up.

Some of these presents can’t be fixed all the way, but it’s the best we can do
.

Like shoelaces that didn’t really tie. Like peanuts. Not really lunch, but lunch enough to count. Good thing the salad bar always had a lot of peanuts.

I knew my life probably didn’t suck after Mama Rush got so mad about it, but I had to check things out anyway, and I wrote everything down for her to read. It was at home on my dresser. In the book.
My life sucked
had its own page.

Dad’s opinion:
Of course your life didn’t suck, son. At least I hope it didn’t. Do you think your life sucked? If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. Want some toast and jelly?

Mom’s opinion:
I wish you’d stop asking ridiculous
questions. Have you done your homework? Good. Good. I’m proud of you, Jersey. It’s going to be hard enough for you to keep up. Try not to get distracted by nonsense
.

Todd’s opinion:
Get out of my face, freak
.

Leza’s opinion:
Everybody’s life sucks sometimes. You might have had a few sucky days, but nothing to blow your head off over
.

Mama Rush’s opinion:
I
know
you don’t want to ask
me
that question
.

My opinion:
I don’t remember. But I remember stuff way back before I shot myself, and that stuff doesn’t suck. Leza’s probably right. And Mom
.

So, now I was trying to figure out if I’d done something awful. Awful enough to feel guilty. Awful enough to put the gun to my head and pull the trigger.

Leza thumped the stupid-mark on my temple. “What are you thinking about, Jersey?”

“Frog farts.” I flicked a peanut at her. She flicked it back. The other girls laughed and kept on girl-chattering.

I looked at the oldest one. She wouldn’t have been at this school when I shot myself. None of them would have been here. Leza was the only one who knew me Before, but she was lots younger then.

That was kind of weird. I was eating with younger kids, I guess. Like a baby. Leza didn’t know about anything rotten I had done, but she said I was a “total butthead” sometimes, even though she liked me.

I didn’t think I was ever a butthead. But I didn’t think I was selfish, either, until the whole Big Larry thing. So maybe
I was a butthead. Was being a butthead enough to make me pull the trigger?

“Butthead,” I muttered. “Trigger.”

The girls were laughing too hard to hear me. That was probably good. I wasn’t up for another round of hoochiemamas.

I went to the bathroom when lunch was over. Thank God the Wench didn’t follow me to the urinals like she tried to do the first few days. I’m not sure I could have squeezed out a drop with her nearby. But I shouldn’t think about squeezing out drops, because then I’d probably talk about them.

No drops. No drops.

About the time I finally fumbled with my zipper, got it down, and got busy, the door banged open.

For the worst second, everything tried to dry up because I just knew it was Ms. Wenchel. But when I took a quick look, it wasn’t.

It was worse.

Three guys—Kerry and Zero, seniors from the golf team, and Todd.

Don’t waste my time
. I could still hear Kerry saying that before he hung up on me.
Don’t waste my time
.

And I hadn’t tried to pee in front of any of my old friends before. I’d been sort of avoiding the bathrooms they went to, but now, here they were.

Don’t waste my time
.

I looked down at my zipper.

Please don’t let me pee on myself, or accidentally get a drop on one of them. No drops, no drops.

Todd glanced at me and went to use the urinals on the far wall. Zero and Kerry nudged each other, then came over to take a whiz beside me. I tried to finish real fast, but stuff just wouldn’t cooperate.

Don’t waste my time
.

“You do pretty good with one hand,” Zero said. He was wearing jeans and a Green Rangers shirt. I nodded and looked at the wall. “Must be hard to button and zip.”

“Button. No. I have a snap. No button. And green shoelaces.”

Zero laughed.

Was he being nice or making fun of me?

Hurry, hurry, no drops. No buttons. Buttons. No buttons.

Why was I so nervous? Being nervous was stupid. I knew these guys. They used to be my friends. Didn’t they? They hadn’t talked to me, but I didn’t think they hated me or anything.

Kerry had on khakis and a white shirt. No wrinkles or drops. He always looked neat and clean. I remembered that much.

“Those scars are pretty gross, Hatch.” He sighed really weird and long, like he had a huge problem. “Did you have to break your whole head open? Why’d you do it, anyway?”

Something twisted way down inside. I could almost hear J.B. yelling from way over at my house.

Get out! You used to do stuff like this, remember? He isn’t being nice. Get out!

But I wasn’t finished.

Still, things were drying up for sure.

“Hey, Kerry,” Zero said. “You heard all the quack-shrinks at the assembly. We aren’t supposed to ask him why
he did it. Might upset the poor itty-bitty wittle boy.” He finished up and took care of his fly really, really fast and easy. “You used to kick my ass off the tee, Hatch.” He shook his head. “Mr. All-That. Mr. Better-Than-You. Look at you now. I bet you pinch when you zip. Need help? Wouldn’t want anything important to get scarred up.”

“No help, thanks.” I didn’t mean to say anything. It just popped out. My face got hot. “No scars.”

Get out!

Kerry snickered.

I was trying to cram things where they belonged. Frog farts. Nothing would go. At least I got my underwear adjusted. Drops, drops, drops. The bathroom felt a lot smaller than it had when I came in. I wanted to leave. But I didn’t want any stains. And I had to wash my hands. But first I had to zip my fly. And it wasn’t zipping. Why wouldn’t it go up?

Snap, snap, snap first. Then zip. Snap and zip. I grabbed at the snap and tried to push the metal parts together.

“Oh, man, call the babysitter, Todd,” Kerry called over his shoulder. “Poor wittle Jersey can’t do his zip-zip.”

Todd didn’t answer. He wasn’t making much noise at all.

Zero banged into my good side. I lurched sideways, couldn’t keep my balance, and fell against Kerry.

“What the hell?” Kerry said way too loud. He shoved me upright with his shoulder, turned toward me, and I felt something warm seep onto my knees.

Pee. From him.

Pee from Kerry. On me.

“Oh.” He laughed as he turned back to the urinal to finish up. “Sorry.”

He didn’t sound sorry.

I stared down at my leg. My face was so, so hot. I let go of my snap and clenched my good hand into a fist. I could see myself hitting Kerry in the mouth. Or maybe Zero, because he was laughing, too. Or Todd. Yeah. Todd. Because he wasn’t saying anything at all.

My pants.

My pants were wet.

Zero stopped laughing long enough to say, “Good shot, Ker. Want a Mulligan?”

That was golf-talk for do-over.

“We’ve heard Leza and her little friends talking to you,” Kerry said. “If we say stupid stuff, you’ll repeat it, won’t you?”

If I hit Zero, I might knock him into a urinal and he’d shut up. If I hit Kerry, he’d probably pee on me again. My fist was going back, going back, and Zero just laughed harder.

“Do it,” Kerry urged. “Think you can, Hatch? You total loser. Loser, loser. Can you say looo-ser?”

“Loser.” I started to swing.

Somebody grabbed my arm.

Spun me around.

That fast, I was face to face with Todd. My fist kept trying to move, but it wasn’t going anywhere. Todd’s lips were all tight and his eyes were squinty. Mad. Really, really mad.

“He peed!” I yelled. “Why? Loser. He peed, not me!”

Todd turned me toward the bathroom door and shoved me. I had to hitch and run not to fall on the gross floor. The sinks—I grabbed one to steady me, then got to the door. Loser.

Zero and Kerry were laughing, laughing, laughing.

Nothing from Todd. Nothing.

Loser.

Get out!

I didn’t wash.

I got out.

Falling more than walking. Out the door. Straight into Ms. Wenchel. Her eyes got really big. She opened her mouth. I turned around so I wouldn’t have to look at her.

Turned around and there was Leza. And a girl with Leza. A girl with dark hair and eyes black enough they made me stare.

You’re so self-centered I bet you think I’m mad at you
.

The voice yelled so loud in my head that I jumped. “Self-centered,” I blurted. “Selfish. Drops. Frog farts—frog—frog—”

Leza closed her eyes and shook her head really fast.

I wanted to cram my hand in my mouth, but I hadn’t washed it.

Elana Arroyo was standing in front of me wearing jeans and a yellow shirt. Right here. Where I could see her. Not moved away. Here. Right here.

“F-f-f-frog.” I took a deep breath. “Frog-selfish. Sorry.”

The girl—Elana? Was it Elana? It had to be.

She just stared at me and looked totally uncomfortable.

Leza was still shaking her head.

I couldn’t help shaking my head. Then I tried to get a grip. “I—I’m not a Big Larry. Elana?”

“Stop, Jersey.” Leza sounded as sharp as Mama Rush. “She’s not Elana.”

When Ms. Wenchel came toward us, Leza froze her with a full-on Mama Rush glare.

Elana-not-Elana took a step back.

What did I say?

If I’d washed my hands, I would have reached for her. “I’m sorry,” I said, just for good measure. Was I being selfish?

Elana.

Not Elana.

The bathroom door opened.

Someone pushed past me. Blocked my view of Elananot-Elana in the yellow shirt.

Todd.

“What did I do to her?” I asked really fast, before he could walk away. “Why did we fight over Elana? Is she? Elana, I mean. Fight.”

He swung around and glared at me. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, Todd,” Leza answered like I couldn’t talk for myself. “Get out of here and take your girlfriend with you.”

“I didn’t ask you—,” Todd started, but Elana—no, no, no. I squinted my good eye at her. Not all the way Elana. A little different from the picture. Rounder face. Bigger nose. Todd’s girlfriend who looked like Elana said something too quiet for me to hear.

Todd turned back to her. His shoulders got looser. I saw him breathe once, really deep. Then he nodded and took the girl’s hand, and they walked away without looking back.

“Frog farts.” I was about to ask them to wait, to answer me about Elana and what happened, when Leza popped my head. No little girl-pop, either. My ears rang.

The Wench started toward us again. “Leza!”

“I swear, Jersey!” She popped me again before I could get my arm up to block her. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Calling her Elana. And Todd—you come off with frog farts and Big Larry and bringing up the past. I ought to hit you till you’re cross-eyed. And for God’s sake, zip your fly.”

That stopped the Wench cold.

Me, too.

I looked down at my jeans. They still weren’t fastened. When I turned my head a little, I could see my underwear around the wads of my shirt.

The bathroom door opened again. Out came Kerry and Zero. They bumped me on purpose as they went by, still laughing. The Wench called after them, but they didn’t stop.

All I could do was look at my pants and think about Todd and his girlfriend and drops and frogs and Leza seeing me look so stupid and all kinds of selfish stuff.

“Did you pee on yourself? Did you?” Leza snorted. “Sometimes …”

Whatever else she said, I didn’t hear it, because I turned around and went back into the bathroom.

This time I went into a stall and locked the door behind me.

It smelled really bad in there, but I stayed a long time, way into the next class.

The Wench never came after me.

Neither did Leza.

chapter 12

“Alicia went home yesterday.” One of the nursing techs from Carter—I didn’t know which one—had on her best perky voice as she answered my questions. “No, no forwarding number for her, and Hank’s gone to the movies with the gang.”

The gang. I used to be part of the gang.

I told the tech that, but she only sighed. “I think it’s time to move on, Jersey. Get on with your real life. But I’ll tell Hank you called. Bye, now.”

The phone gave a loud noise in my ear a few seconds later, reminding me to hang it up. I put it on my bedside table.

Then I went back to Algebra. Algebra and more Algebra, until my eyes crossed. It didn’t take long.

2x + 6 = 12

“2x.” I sighed and rocked backward on my bed. X, y, x, y. When I closed my eyes, I saw x’s and y’s.

“X, x, x.”

It’s eight
, J.B. said.
That’s the answer
.

I leaned down and scribbled
8
. Probably wrong, but I had no idea. Resource Algebra sucked, but not as bad as regular Algebra. I’d been switched into Resource after two days. It was better, but yeah, it still sucked. English sucked, too, but in English, x’s and y’s were just letters, not pretend numbers. In between trying to call Hank and Alicia-who-went-home and the gang I wasn’t part of anymore, I’d been working on pretend-numbers since I got home.

At least I hadn’t peed on myself or gotten peed on at school. A whole four days with no pee. And Leza was talking to me, which was good, because I couldn’t stand it when she didn’t. And the cheerleaders were talking to me, too. No peanut-choking. No hoochie-mamas. But Todd’s girlfriend took off every time she saw me coming.