Total Knockout Page 10

  My hand shook over the mouse as I viewed the poll results: 85 percent for stepping down.

  I tossed Paddy to the floor, and for the first time in my life, I sneaked out of my room.

  As I ran to Cooper’s house, I thought of what boxing meant to me. It was about endurance. You feel like you want to collapse at the end of each round, like you don’t have any more strength left in you, but you have to keep going. Once you’re in that ring, there isn’t any other choice. And that’s what I would do too. Unlike Dad, I wouldn’t quit. I would endure.

  I felt slightly better as I walked up Cooper’s driveway. I was already getting stronger, or at least telling myself to have more confidence.

  I could see that their garage door, which was on the side of the house, was open and the lights were on. I could hear Cooper saying, “That’s it. Good!” I heard that familiar smacking of gloves.

  When the inside of the garage came into view, I saw Cooper wearing the yellow focus mitts we sometimes used for target practice. I stood immobile outside the garage. He stopped the second he saw me, and got clocked in the mitt by the other person’s pink glove. When the person turned to look at me, I saw that it was Melanie. Boxing with Cooper. In my gear.

  I could hardly speak. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Boxing was our thing. It wasn’t hers. It was just another whim that she’d forget about in three days, just like everything else. And because I couldn’t think of anything to say, I looked at Melanie and yelled, “You said you were Irish!” then turned around and ran back home.

  Mom drove me to school the next morning even though she was barely talking to me. I couldn’t bear facing Melanie—or anyone else—on the bus.

  I was angry with Melanie and the boxing, and angry with myself for what I had done at school. As I walked the halls I kept my chin up—to show the school (or maybe myself) that I would endure. I just knew I had to be brave. Before I would let myself really process or deal with Melanie, I knew I had to apologize for the vote.

  Jared was the first council member I saw. He was leaning against the lockers before first period, talking to April DeHart, a perky cheerleader who was always on the top of the pyramids. I was surprised she was giving Jared the time of day, but she giggled as he spoke, her round cheeks glowing pink.

  “Hey, Jared,” I said as I approached them. I told myself that he would be the most difficult to talk to, and once I explained myself to him, the others would come more easily.

  When Jared looked at me, the smile fell from his face. Even April stiffened.

  “Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?” I looked to April and tried to give her a look that said, You understand, don’t you? She glared back at me.

  Jared looked down at the carpet. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to you, Latham. I feel very deceived right now.”

  “I know, but look,” I said, “it’ll only take a sec. Please?”

  “Fine,” he said. “Say what you want, but say it here.” April stood up straighter, as if to protect Jared from my evilness.

  I told myself that others should hear what I had to say; I wanted everyone to know that I understood what a huge, stupid mistake I had made. I squared my shoulders and said, “Okay. Well, I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for not following the rules. I just wanted to get the vending machines vote through because Ms. Jenkins wanted it on the school board agenda, and I didn’t think it was a big deal. But now I know it was.”

  Jared looked up at me, his brows pulled together. “So, what? You only did it because Ms. Jenkins made you?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. She wanted it on the next meeting agenda, but—”

  “Dang, Latham. You’re unbelievable. How about taking some responsibility?”

  “Yeah,” April squeaked, but I barely paid her any attention because that was not what I meant to say.

  “Ms. Jenkins rocks,” Jared said, “and I, for one, won’t let you blame your own sneaky ways on her.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. And I didn’t mean to be sneaky.”

  Jared snorted, and April linked her arm through his. “Come on, Jared,” she said in a soft voice as she glared at me. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “I just wanted to do something nice for the school,” I tried.

  I stared at them as they walked away and heard students tsk me as they headed to class. I felt like crying, and I’d never hated myself more than I did just then.

  In the halls, people gave me dirty looks. Even Lily Schmidt, who was finding her voice more and more, managed to snip to me in algebra, “You shouldn’t have cheated.”

  When I got to the cafeteria, I saw Cooper. His shirt was half tucked in, like maybe he was making an effort of some sort. He was with Max, but I barely saw him, even though I think he said hello to me. Cooper told him he’d see him inside, and Max hesitated for a moment before telling Cooper he’d save him a seat.

  Seeing Cooper gave me this weird mix of feelings I’d never had with him. Massive confusion, if that’s an actual feeling, was the strongest.

  We stood before the Naturally Natural vending machine—the same one I had inaugurated just a few weeks ago. There were still pieces of a skull-and-bones picture that hadn’t been torn down completely on the side of it. I picked at them while Cooper waited for me to say something.

  “Hey,” I finally said.

  “Hey,” he replied.

  We didn’t speak for several excruciating moments. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, and I guess he didn’t either. Avoiding what I really wanted to ask him (“Do you like her?!”), I said, “So, I guess you saw the paper?”

  He looked me right in the eyes and said, “I understand why you did it. I mean, you didn’t have to, and I don’t think any less of you for it. You know,” he said, “Nicole had me turn over my meeting notes to her. She cited some Freedom of Information Act or something.” It was the very act I helped implement two years ago. “They’re being really hard on you, Loosh. I don’t think it’s fair.”

  I managed a smile. “Thanks, but I think it’s exactly fair.”

  “If you want me to talk to anyone—Nicole or Mrs. Peoria—just say the word. I’ll do anything.”

  I let that last sentence linger in my head a moment. I’ll do anything. Cooper was the most solid thing in my life, and I didn’t want anything between us to change—not ever. “Thanks,” I finally managed, feeling tears sting the corners of my eyes. I kept my eyes on my shoes.

  We stood for a moment until finally he said, “I shouldn’t have let Melanie use your gloves without asking you. I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t look at Cooper when I said, “No biggie. I shouldn’t have kept the research period thing secret.”

  “No biggie,” he replied.

  I wanted to ask him if Melanie was any good at boxing, if it would be a regular thing, and just how much time were they spending together? I also wanted to scream, Don’t ever do it again! but I guess I showed a rare moment of restraint.

  He motioned to the cafeteria. “You going in?”

  I had my lunch with me, and even though I had walked to the caf with every intention of going in and eating, suddenly I didn’t feel like it. Even though seeing Cooper made me feel better, it also made me feel horrible. If that makes any sense. “I think I’m just gonna walk around for a bit.”

  He nodded like he understood. “I’ll be around,” he said.

  Leaving the cafeteria, I put my hands into the pockets of my black pants, which were getting a little short in the hem, and stormed across the windy athletic field, then banged on the temporary building’s door before opening it myself.

  Coach Fleck looked up from his metal desk. “Well, hey there, Prez.”

  “Hi.”

  “What brings you out to these parts? Don’t tell me there’s been more budget cuts and you’re taking away our offices.” He laughed at that, and so did Coach Ryan, who was on the other side of the office, at his own desk.

  I jerked my hea
d toward the vending machine crammed against the wall. “Gimme the chocolate doughnuts and a Coke.” I pulled some money out of my pocket and offered it to him.

  He let out a long whistle. “Must be a rough day,” he said, getting up to get me the loot. Handing it over he said, “First one’s on the house, kid.” I snatched it out of his hands and quickly left, shutting the door on their laughter.

  I scarfed the doughnuts and guzzled half the Coke just walking across the field. I buried the evidence in the trashcan outside the cafeteria, hoping Lori Anne wasn’t lurking around the corner like a paparazzo, snapping incriminating pictures. Before I could even decide where to go next or what to do, I ran into Melanie. My stomach, which was already dangling somewhere around my knees, plummeted to the floor.

  “Oh, hey,” I said. Melanie looked as cute as ever in a gray fedora with a red feather that matched the belt on her white blouse. She was with Rose Andreas, who wore a long tangle of pink opaque stones around her neck, and Catherine Collins, who darted her eyes nervously from me to Melanie. “You guys go ahead, I’ll be there in a sec,” Melanie told them. When they left, she said, “I’ve been looking for you.”

  I could barely look at her but saw that she was watching me closely, carefully.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked. “You okay?”

  I shrugged like it was no big thing. “I’m fine.” Even though I was mad at her for boxing with Cooper—in my gear—I really wanted to apologize about the voting thing, because I honestly felt awful about it. “I’m really sorry about not telling you about the research period with the voting.”

  For a second Melanie looked like she didn’t know what I was talking about. Then she said, “Oh, that? I could care less.”

  When I didn’t say more, she asked, “Hey, are you mad at me?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “Because I was sort of worried that you would be, about the boxing thing.”

  “Nuh-uh.” I didn’t even try to sound reassuring. I didn’t have the energy.

  “It’s just that, you made boxing seem so cool and all, and like a great workout, and I wanted to try it. And Cooper said you wouldn’t mind if I used your gloves and stuff.”

  I hated thinking about her wearing my gloves, playing my sport, with my best friend. I wanted to know if Cooper was just her latest fad, one she’d abandon in two weeks, and if so, I’d have to immediately whoop her for it. But I didn’t say any of that to her. “It’s fine. I don’t care.”

  “Okay,” she said, somewhat carefully. “Are you going in to lunch?”

  “No, I’m going for a walk around the field,” I said.

  Melanie nodded. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you on the bus, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

  “Cool. Take it easy, Lucia.”

  I turned to walk toward the field, but before I could get too far, a thought sprang into my head like a Mexican jumping bean. “Wait! Melanie!”

  She turned to me, the brim of her fedora shading her left eye. “Yeah?”

  “Did Cooper wrap your hands?” She looked at me questioningly. “You know, with the black cloth wrap? Before you put on the gloves?”

  “No,” she said. “I just wore the gloves. Why?”

  Feeling mildly relieved, I said, “No reason,” then walked away.

  By the end of lunch, everyone had read the article and most had seen the online poll. By the end of the day, the school was calling for my resignation.

  I got a note in last-period physical science. I expected it to be from Ms. Jenkins, and it was. She wanted to see me immediately after the bell.

  When I walked into her office, she tossed her pen, sat back, and folded her arms.

  “I know.” I sighed as I sat down. “I messed up.” I didn’t want Ms. Jenkins, who (along with my mom) was probably already disappointed in me, to hate me or think I was a sneaky little jerk.

  “Lucia,” she began, shaking her head. Her face and voice softened, and she said, “Honey, what were you thinking?”

  Feeling better that she spoke to me so gently, I said, “I guess I wasn’t. The only thing on my mind was making sure the vote went through in time.”

  “I feel like,” she began, “you took advantage of the council’s not knowing the bylaws.” I felt tears well up when she said that. “Now, I’m not saying I’m blameless. I should have known those laws better. That was my mistake. And I take responsibility for asking you to get it done so quickly. For that I apologize.”

  I blinked my eyes fast to keep the tears from falling. “What should I do?” I asked miserably.

  “Well, start with Nicole. Go on record with your apology. Look,” she said, leaning forward on her desk. “If you’re really sorry about what you did, and you truly didn’t mean any kind of malice or trickery, then people will forgive you. If they believe you, they’ll forgive you.”

  I nodded. Ms. Jenkins always expected more from me than from the other students, and I appreciated that. And to be honest, I was pretty scared about how I’d gotten myself into this situation, but I knew that a big part of boxing was controlling your fears—namely, the fear of getting the crap beat out of you—and doing it with dignity. I really was sorry for not telling the whole truth to the council, and I needed to make sure everyone else knew that. I owed that not just to the council, but to the whole school.

  When I left Ms. Jenkins’s office, I realized that I had, once again, missed the school bus. Dad arrived ten minutes after I called him.

  “Should we make this a regular date?” he asked as I pulled on my seat belt.

  I couldn’t even respond, the knot in my throat was so tight. I’d developed a killer headache as soon as I left Ms. Jenkins’s office, and I just wanted to go home and have a moment of peace before I plunged feetfirst into figuring out how I would fix the mess I had created.

  Later that night in my room, I dug out my secret stash of corn chips, eating with salty, oily fingers as I pondered the benefits of a public castigation. I finished off the whole bag, which called itself “snack size” but had about the entire daily allowance of calories. I heard the front doorbell ring as I slid my finger around the inside of the empty bag, then Dad calling my name. I licked my fingers and came to the door to find Cooper and Melanie.

  “Hi,” Cooper said, and I could tell he was treading lightly. I guess that’s what you do to a person who might break down or explode at any moment. “You busy?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out what I’m going to do about everything.”

  “Yeah,” Cooper said, “we figured.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Melanie said brightly. “To rescue you.”

  I looked to Cooper. “We know you’re stressed,” he explained. “And we think everyone’s being so harsh on you.”

  “Way harsh, Loosh,” Melanie added.

  “And we knew you were probably sitting in your bedroom—”

  “Stressing,” Melanie said.

  “So we thought we’d come get you out of the house for a little while so you could clear your head.”

  They looked at me hopefully. “You guys sure have banded together,” I noted.

  “For you!” cheered Melanie.

  “We promise we won’t keep you out long,” Cooper said.

  I stood in the doorway for a moment. “Okay.” I grabbed my jacket from the hall closet, feeling only slightly better. “Where’re we going?”

  We walked to the elementary school a few blocks away. Every time we passed beneath a streetlight, I could see my breath in the cold night air. I wished I had brought my gloves.

  The elementary school got a new playground last year, and it has swings that go really high. Even though we knew it was sort of babyish, there was no denying that it was fun to act like a kid sometimes.

  We raced each other to the giant swing set and jumped into the seats—me, Melanie, then Cooper.

  “Whoever gets the highest first, wins!” called Melanie as we all kicked off.

 
As we pulled ourselves higher, the cold air whooshed across my cheeks and fluttered my bangs off my forehead. I leaned far back in the seat, my hands wrapped around the cold chains, and pushed my feet out in front of me as I worked to gain more height. Nothing was so bad that I couldn’t fix it, I told myself as Melanie and I passed each other, each going in exactly opposite directions.

  “See?” she called as we passed each other. “Fun!”

  Cooper, who swung in unison with Melanie, his baggy shirt fluttering behind him like a cape, pointed across the playground and yelled, “Seesaw!”

  “Yes!” she said. “Let’s make a jump for it.”

  “Higher first!” hollered Cooper.

  Still perfectly in sync, they counted to three, then flew out of their swings like stuntmen. Melanie dashed across the patchy grass with Cooper just behind her.

  As they hopped onto the seesaw, I dragged my feet to a stop in the gravel. I couldn’t hear them, but Cooper said something that made Melanie throw back her head and laugh, causing her to almost lose her hat.

  I walked toward them. I sat on a chipmunk spring rider and gave it a little rock. Watching my two best friends, I finally realized that they had something that didn’t include me. I always thought that I was the one that held us all together, but then I realized that maybe they didn’t need me after all. Seeing them together, having so much fun, made me wish they’d never tried to cheer me up in the first place.

  By the time I woke up the next morning, I was ready to announce my mistake and apologize to the whole school. Talking to Nicole was first on my list.

  “Nicole,” I said to her between classes, “I’d like to talk to you on record about that vote.”

  I thought there’d be a spark of excitement in her eyes about getting this scoop, but as usual, she looked unfazed. I guess as a reporter you had to stay even. “Caf at lunch?”

  “How about on the edge of the athletic fields?”

  “Fine.”

  I’d ridden the bus to school that morning. I sat with Melanie, but something was different. I don’t know if it was her or me, but there was tension in us both, and our conversation felt forced. I didn’t mention the playground, and she didn’t offer any insight into her and Cooper’s budding (blossomed?) love affair.