VIOLET
The week after
I go back to school, expecting everyone to know. I walk through the halls and
stand at my locker and sit in class and wait for my teachers and classmates to
give me a knowing look or say, “Someone’s not a virgin anymore.” It’s
actually kind of disappointing when they don’t.
The only one who figures it out is Brenda. We sit in the cafeteria picking at
the burritos some Indiana kitchen worker has attempted to make, and she asks
what I did over the weekend. My mouth is full of burrito, and I am trying to
decide whether to swallow it or spit it out, which means I don’t answer right
away. She says, “Oh my God, you slept with him.”
Lara and the three Brianas stop eating. Fifteen or twenty heads turn in our
direction because Brenda has a really loud voice when she wants to. “You
know he’ll never say a word to anyone. I mean, he’s a gentleman. Just in case
you were wondering.” She pops the tab on her soda and drinks half of it
down.
Okay, I’ve been wondering a little. After all, it’s my first time but not his.
He’s Finch and I trust him, but you just never know—guys do talk—and even
though the Day Of wasn’t slutty, I feel a little slutty, but also kind of grown
up.
On our way out of the cafeteria, mostly to change the subject, I tell Brenda
about
Germ
and ask if she’d like to be a part of it.
Her eyes go narrow, like she’s trying to see if I’m joking or not.
“I’m serious. There’s a lot left to figure out, but I know I want
Germ
to be
original.”
Bren throws back her head and laughs, kind of diabolically. “Okay,” she
says, catching her breath. “I’m in.”
When I see Finch in U.S. Geography, he looks tired, like he hasn’t slept at
all. I sit beside him, across the room from Amanda and Roamer and Ryan,
and afterward he pulls me under the stairwell and kisses me like he’s afraid I
might disappear. There’s something forbidden about the whole thing that
makes the electric currents burn stronger, and I want school to be over forever
so we don’t have to come here at all. I tell myself that we can just take off in
Little Bastard and head west or east, north or south, till we’ve left Indiana far
157
behind. We’ll wander the country and then the world, just Theodore Finch and
me.
But for now, for the rest of the week, we see each other only at school,
kissing under stairwells or in dark corners. In the afternoons we go our
separate ways. At night we talk online.
Finch:
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