The Teacher(17)

Hudson looks down at the table, and his pale blue eyes skim over my face. It’s like he doesn’t even recognize me anymore, but I feel a glimmer of hope when he says, “Why does she need to move?”

Kenzie snorts. “Do you want to sit with her?”

I remain at the table, waiting for Hudson to stick up for me. Addie is my best friend, and I would be happy to sit next to her. She was my only friend when nobody else would go near me. But instead, he says, “Come on, Kenzie. There’s another table right over there.”

“This one is right near the snack machines,” Kenzie whines. “And why should we have to move? She’s here all by herself.”

I can’t listen to this argument anymore. Hudson may be sticking up for me a little bit, but not the way I want him to. He’s decided we’re not friends anymore, and that hurts more than anything.

So I get up from the table and snatch my math book out of Bella’s hands. “Fine,” I say. “Take the table.”

Kenzie lifts an eyebrow. “Don’t you want your tray?”

I want to tell her that I’ve lost my appetite, but I’m pretty sure if I say anything, I’m going to start crying. And we all know that’s the worst thing you can do. So I march out of the cafeteria with my head held high. I almost think that I maybe hear Hudson calling out my name, but I must be hallucinating because I doubt he would do that.



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Chapter Fifteen

ADDIE

AS I’M HURRYING to the meeting of the poetry magazine, I run into Kenzie and Hudson.

Actually, I don’t run into them so much as I see them. Hudson has football practice, and Kenzie probably has a cheerleader practice, but they’re taking a few minutes together before they head out, hidden in one of the quiet nooks on the fourth floor, behind a set of lockers.

They do look good together, both of them with their matching perfect blond hair. If anything ever happened between me and Hudson, we would not have looked nearly as well matched. Not that anything ever did. There was a time when… Well, let me just say that I wrote a few bad poems about Hudson Jankowski. We spent so much time together, and he was my best friend in the whole world, yet he was the one I fantasized about when I was alone in my bedroom.

And now he’s with Kenzie. They’re not kissing, but they’re standing very, very close together, talking softly.

The weird thing is, we used to make fun of Kenzie and her minions. They’re required to make a shrine to her in their bedrooms, Hudson joked. And give her twenty percent of all their earnings.

She is really pretty though, I pointed out to him once. And Hudson made barfing sounds. Of course, he was only thirteen then. As he stares into her eyes now, he doesn’t look like he’s going to make barfing sounds any time soon.

Ugh, they’re about to kiss. I can’t even watch.

I look down at the two backpacks that were abandoned against the wall. Hudson’s is the cheap, black one. Kenzie’s is trimmed with leather, with lots of buttons and ornaments hanging off it. There’s one key chain that has the name Kenzie on it in diamond lettering. I wonder if it was custom-made. I also happen to notice that the key chain has a couple of keys hanging off it. Her house key.

I hazard a look back up at Kenzie and Hudson. They’re still talking, completely absorbed in each other. I never thought I’d see the day when Hudson became one of her minions—worse, her boyfriend. Quietly, I slide the key chain off the zipper of her backpack and slip it into my pocket.

As I walk away, I expect to hear Kenzie yelling after me. She already hates me, and this would be the final straw if she saw me take her keys. And what if she tells the principal? Why would I take this kind of risk and get in trouble again?

Except she doesn’t catch me. I make it all the way down to the stairwell, and by the time I get to the third floor, I realize that I’m home free.

The key chain is still in my pocket when I reach the meeting for the poetry magazine. I’m surprised how few students have shown up. I would have guessed, based on how popular Mr. Bennett is, that the room would be packed. But then again, he also works on the school newspaper. Maybe that’s enough of an opportunity for the girls to flirt with him. Anyway, I’m glad there aren’t too many kids here. It’s less intimidating this way.

When I step into the room, Mr. Bennett is talking to another student, but he lifts his eyes, and that great smile stretches across his face. He excuses himself from the conversation with the other student and jogs over to speak to me.

“Addie!” he says. “I’m so elated you could make it!”

I’m so overcome by his enthusiasm, I can only manage to nod.

“Well, come on in,” he says, because I’m still lingering in the doorway. “You can see we don’t have a lot of people, but everyone who attends is extremely dedicated. And I’d like you to meet our editor-in-chief.”

He leads me to a girl who I recognize from the senior class. I’m pretty sure her name is Mary. She has jet-black hair cropped close to her head on the bottom and shaggy on the top, falling into her eyes. She’s wearing a hoodie sweatshirt zipped up to her neck, and she’s got a spiral notebook open in front of her, with a page covered in angry black scrawl and half-finished drawings of skeletons. She scowls when she sees me.

“Hi, Mary,” I say, hoping she’ll be impressed that I know her name.