“You’re a goof,” I mouthed, and he nodded again, beaming.

Another Country -25-
by Erin Halfelven

I had a note from the doctor to avoid gym class, which made me feel a little guilty. There was nothing wrong with me that a little exercise would make worse. The idea was just to avoid having to dress out in the locker room.

I was supposed to take the note to the Admin office, and they would notify Coach that I wouldn’t be in class. Standard procedure was that the office would assign me a study hall class instead.

I took the note out and read it. It was good for three days, the rest of the week, basically. I did not want to have study hall last period for three days. I never had that much homework that needed doing, and sitting still that long would make me rabid.

Besides, gym was the only class besides Math that I had with Josh. I’d just give the note to Coach last period and sit in the bleachers. Coach would understand.

I put the note back in my pocket and went to homeroom. Mr. Kenner read the announcements and dismissed us to our first-period class. I hadn’t seen anyone giving me any odd looks, so wearing two shirts over my bra seemed to be working. At least, if I didn’t think about it.

First period was history, pretty boring this late in the school year if, like me, you had finished reading the whole textbook back in October. Bored, I looked around the class while Mr. Lynch rattled on about the New Deal.

The new kid, Trevor, who had started here just last week, smiled at me. His mom was some middle-size officer at the air base, I thought, for some reason I didn’t remember.

I didn’t really know him, but I smiled back politely. He mimed sleeping on his desk, and I smiled again. He made a head motion I didn’t understand then he mimed eating something and waggled an eyebrow with the head motion again.

Was he asking me to meet him at lunch? I frowned. He raised both eyebrows with a game-show-host expression. I almost laughed and realized I was smiling. He nodded firmly and raised both hands in a winner’s clasp. “You’re a goof,” I mouthed, and he nodded again, beaming.

I frowned and shook my head. He pretended to pout, and I rolled my eyes. He nodded several times, looking eager. What was with this guy? Why was he interested in me?

I refused to glance down at my chest. I made a face and shook my head again. He nodded and looked pleased with himself. Had he misread my signal or was he messing with me?

“Anything the class should know about, Bobby?” Mr. Lynch asked suddenly. My eyes went wide. Several people looked at me. Trevor, too, with a bland expression on his big blond face. Mr. Lynch kept a matching neutral expression aimed directly at me.

“No, sir,” I muttered.

*

The bell rang without further semaphores from Trevor but when I reached my locker, intending to exchange my heavy History book for the equally heavy English and Math texts for my next two classes, there he was, practically at my elbow.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, you almost got us in trouble,” I said.

He almost smiled. “Me? What’d I do?” Like he really didn’t know. I glared up at him. The mook was at least as tall as Josh, half a foot taller than me.

“You’re in all my A.P. classes, I think,” he remarked, pointing out that he had the same two texts I had just retrieved already under his arm.

“You’re not that smart,” I said. “There must be some mistake.”

He grinned. “History, English, Math in the mornings, Science, in the afternoon. The only classes we don’t have together are Music and Gym.

I frowned, closing my locker after dumping the History book. “I don’t have Music,” I said. “Is that your last period?”

“No,” he said. “Fifth period; I have Gym last. Cause I’m on the baseball squad.”

“Oh,” I said. That explained why I hadn’t seen him in P.E.—he probably went directly to the baseball field for practice while the guys who weren’t on teams went to the gym for volleyball this time of year.

I closed my locker and turned around. He was right behind me, blocking my way.

“What do you have fifth period?” he asked. “Gym?”

“Drafting,” I said.

He blinked.

I put a hand on his chest and pushed. He backed up a foot, and I got past him.

“Why are you taking Drafting?” he asked.

I ignored him and hurried toward English class.

He easily caught up with me. “You should take Music. I bet you have a great singing voice.”

I kept walking, head down, not looking at him. Mallory Jesperson, Josh’s girlfriend, went through the door to English class just ahead of me, and Trevor followed us in. Somehow, we all ended up seated near each other.

Mallory leaned her head toward me. “I think Trevor likes you,” she whispered.

Still smiling, she leaned away before adding in the same whisper. “I don’t think he knows you’re a boy.”

My head snapped around to look at Trevor. I was sitting in the row between them. Had he heard that?

He looked back at me as blandly as before, lips curved in a closed smile.

I looked away, turning back to Mallory. What did she mean by what she said? A joke? But she was looking toward the front of the class where Mrs. Cole was writing something on the board.

I stared in that direction, not registering what she had written, something about Dickens.

Did Mallory mean that Trevor, the new kid, thought I was a girl? Had someone seen what I was wearing under my shirt? And what my chest looked like under that? Had someone told him?

The rest of second period passed in a queasy, unfocussed blur. My brain spun sideways, trying to think of anything that wasn’t Trevorish, and not quite succeeding.

He’d been trying to be nice to me but also find things out. He thought it weird that I had Drafting fifth period. Last year, it had been one of the ten-week courses we could take to see what we wanted to do this year, and I’d really liked it and kind of got good at it.

Originally, Josh had been going to take Drafting, too, but his grade in the course last year wasn’t good enough to get him in. He’d ended up with a fifth period Review class, basically Study Hall. I’d thought about taking Review too, but I would have been bored out of my mind.

Was Trevor staring at me? Our eyes met, he smiled, and I looked away again.

Dickens. The note on the board was about Dickens, a quiz next week on Great Expectations. Mrs. Cole’s quizzes were all alike: five questions about the book we’d read and an essay question where you were supposed to show you understood the theme or whatever the book was about. Two hundred words or so of whatever malarkey you wanted to spin.

I glanced at Trevor again, and his smile widened to show teeth. I frowned and shook my head at him, and he grinned. Damnit are all boys just thick?