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VIOLET
151 days till graduation
Monday morning. First period.
Everyone is talking about the newest post in the
Bartlett Dirt
, the school
gossip rag that not only has its own website but seems to be taking over the
entire internet. “Senior Hero Saves Crazy Classmate from Bell Tower Jump.”
We aren’t named, but there is a picture of my face, eyes startled behind
Eleanor’s glasses, bangs crooked. I look like a makeover “before.” There’s
also a picture of Theodore Finch.
Jordan Gripenwaldt, editor of our school paper, is reading the article to her
friends Brittany and Priscilla in a low, disgusted voice. Now and then they
glance in my direction and shake their heads, not at me but at this perfect
example of journalism at its worst.
These are smart girls who speak their minds. I should be friends with them
instead of Amanda. This time last year, I would have spoken up and agreed
with them and then written a scathing blog post about high school gossip.
Instead I pick up my bag and tell the teacher I have cramps. I bypass the nurse
and climb the stairs to the top floor. I pick the lock to the bell tower. I go only
as far as the stairs, where I sit down and, by the light of my phone, read two
chapters of
Wuthering Heights
. I’ve given up on Anne Brontë and decided
there’s only Emily—unruly Emily, angry at the world.
“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if
all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a
mighty stranger.”
“A mighty stranger,” I say to no one. “You got that right.”
54
FINCH
Day 9
By Monday morning, it’s clear that ’80s Finch has to go. For one thing, the
picture of him in the
Bartlett Dirt
is not flattering. He looks unnervingly
wholesome—I suspect he’s a goody-good, what with all the not smoking and
vegetarianism and turned-up collars. And, for two, he just doesn’t feel right to
me. He’s the kind of guy who’s probably great with teachers and pop quizzes
and who actually doesn’t mind driving his mom’s Saturn, but I don’t trust him
not to screw things up with girls. More specifically, I don’t trust him to get
anywhere with Violet Markey.
I meet Charlie at Goodwill during third period. There’s one down by the
train station, in an area that used to be nothing but abandoned, burned-out
factories and graffiti. Now it’s been “regentrified,” which means it got a new
coat of paint and someone decided to pay attention to it.
Charlie brings Brenda for fashion backup, even though nothing she wears
ever matches, something she swears she does on purpose. While Charlie talks
up one of the salesgirls, Bren follows me from rack to rack yawning. She flips
halfheartedly through hangers of leather jackets. “What exactly are we
looking for?”
I say, “I need to be regentrified.” She yawns again without covering her
mouth, and I can see her fillings. “Late night?”
She grins, bright-pink lips spreading wide. “Amanda Monk had a party
Saturday night. I made out with Gabe Romero.” In addition to being
Amanda’s boyfriend, Roamer is the biggest prick in school. For some reason,
Bren has had a thing for him since freshman year.
“Will he remember it?”
Her grin fades a little. “He was pretty wasted, but I left one of these in his
pocket.” She holds up a hand and waves her fingers. One of her blue plastic
fingernails is missing. “And, just in case, my nose ring.”
“I thought you looked different today.”
“That’s just the glow.” She’s more awake now. She claps her hands
together and rubs them all mad-scientist-like. “So what are we looking for?”
“I don’t know. Something a little less squeaky clean, maybe a little sexier.
I’m done with the eighties.”
55
She frowns. “Is this about what’s-her-name? The skinny chick?”
“Violet Markey, and she’s not skinny. She has hips.”
“And a sweet, sweet ass.” Charlie has joined us now.
“No.” Bren is shaking her head so hard and fast, it looks as if she’s having
a seizure. “You don’t dress to please a girl—especially not a girl like that. You
dress to please yourself. If she doesn’t like you for you, then you don’t need
her.” All of this would be fine if I knew exactly who
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