The Education Of Hailey Kendrick Part 8

"This is a reasonable way to handle the situation. People are unhappy. They want to share how they're feeling."

Joel could act as if he were doing the right thing, but I sensed that the reason he was willing to have me stand up in front of everyone and be humiliated had to due with him being upset by what I'd said to Tristan on Sat.u.r.day night.

"You can't do this," I whispered to him.

"Mandy went to Winston. This is his idea," Joel whispered back. He shrugged slightly. My lips pressed together. Joel was going to stand there and play the party line. What Winston wanted, he would do.

A freshman in the front row raised her hand. "I think it's disgusting that you cheated on your boyfriend," she said. She shot a look at Mandy, who nodded her approval. I had the feeling the room was stacked with people that Mandy had spoon-fed comments to. We'd be there all morning hearing what a lousy person I was.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I said.

"You can't leave," Mandy said. "You have to stand here while everyone gets their say."

"Fine, but do you mind if I go to the bathroom first? There isn't a rule against that, is there?"

"It's important that you understand how what you've done affects everyone," Joel said.

I clenched my teeth. "I'll be right back."

I stepped into the hallway and crossed to the ladies' room. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. I didn't plan to stand in front of the whole school while everyone listed out how I was making their lives miserable because they couldn't get to the mall.

I cracked the door open and peeped out. Mandy was standing in the doorway to the cafeteria, watching the hall. There was no way I was going to be able to sneak past her and out of the building. I wondered how long I could stay in the bathroom before they sent someone in after me. I looked at my watch. There was another thirty minutes left until the first bell. Way too long. I felt my stomach turn over again. I felt like I might throw up my eggs. Maybe if I vomited, people would consider it sufficient apology, but I doubted it. They were going to make me stand there and just take it.

A car horn outside honked, and it made me look up. Above the stalls there was a long thin frosted window. I stepped up onto one of the toilets and slid the window open. The window faced the alley behind the cafeteria building. There was a Dumpster directly below. It was insane. Most likely I wouldn't even fit, the window was so narrow. Besides, I would only be putting off the inevitable. Sooner or later I would have to face the music. My heart was pounding. All I wanted to do was escape. I heard Mandy's high shrill laugh from the hall. That decided it.

I pulled myself up onto the ledge and swung one foot out the window, and then the other. I started to lower myself down. My uniform skirt was caught in the window, and I could feel it hitching up. Great. Now my bare b.u.t.t was on the outside of the window while the rest of me was still inside the bathroom. My feet swung around, feeling for the edges of the Dumpster, but all I felt was empty s.p.a.ce. I tried to lower myself farther, but the combination of my skirt and blazer bunched up was keeping me from sliding down any more. This wasn't going to work.

I tried to pull myself back up through the window. My arms were shaking from the effort, but I wasn't moving. Great. I was stuck in the window. What's worse than being called to the front of your entire school and humiliated? Being caught trying to sneak away with your skirt up over your waist and your panty-clad b.u.t.t hanging out over the cafeteria Dumpster.

"Well, here's something you don't see every day," a voice said in the alley.

My head shot straight up. I knew that voice. "Drew?"

"Hailey?" He sounded shocked. "Looks like you need some help."

"I don't need need help, but some help would be appreciated." help, but some help would be appreciated."

"Looks to me like you need help. Do you know you're wearing Thursday panties and today's Monday?"

I blushed. "My grandma buys these for me. Stop looking at my b.u.t.t," I demanded.

"It's sort of a focal point from out here."

"Help me out of here." I wiggled my legs. "Hurry up. I'm in sort of a situation."

I could hear him climbing up onto the Dumpster behind me. "You know, there's a waitlist to get into this place. You don't see many trying to get out. At least this way." His hand was on my leg. "I'm going to heft you up a bit and then pull you out."

"Watch your hands," I warned him.

"I am watching them."

I could hear voices from the hallway. It was just a matter of time before Mandy busted her way in, and then there would be no amount of explaining that would make things right.

Drew held me around the waist, and I felt myself start to slide backward. I held on to the window ledge.

"Rest your feet on the rim of the Dumpster."

I slid until my feet were resting next to Drew's feet and my face was still looking through the window. I used one hand to jam my skirt back down into place.

"Okay. Hang on to the window while I get down, and then I'll help you."

Through the window I could see the bathroom door start to open. I threw myself into Drew, and we dropped to the ground in a heap. I landed on top of him, and he gave a loud "Ooph."

I held my finger over my mouth, indicating he needed to be quiet.

"She's not in here." Mandy's voice drifted down from the window.

Drew raised an eyebrow. He stood and pulled me up. His s.h.i.+rt was smeared with ketchup. He jerked his head to the right, indicating that I should follow him, and I did. His truck was parked at the end of the alley.

When we reached it, he turned back to me. "You need a ride somewhere?" He held up a hand. "I mean, of course, that you don't need need a ride, but would one be helpful?" a ride, but would one be helpful?"

I wiped my hand across my face. I was shaking. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go back inside.

"I can't leave campus."

"No, you're not supposed supposed to leave. But I'm betting you're capable. Rules are meant to be broken." to leave. But I'm betting you're capable. Rules are meant to be broken."

"I've never skipped school in my life," I protested.

Drew's eyes went wide like a kid who had just spotted Santa Claus. "Really? Your first time? Oh, that's exciting." He rubbed his hands together. "This will be good. Time's wasting. Let's go." He motioned to his truck.

I held back. "I'll get in trouble."

"News flash, Prima Donna. You're already in trouble. There's no death penalty for skipping school. If you're already in trouble, why not go really big? Are you telling me you had the guts to sneak out of a place by jumping into a Dumpster, but then you were just going to go right back inside? Besides, with what they charge for tuition for this place, they aren't going to kick you out for skipping one day. It wouldn't be cost efficient."

My mind raced. I hadn't thought through this plan very well. Everything had been based on the idea of getting away. I heard a burst of laughter, and at the other end of the alley I could see a few Evesham students making their way over to a cla.s.sroom building. At the very least I needed more time to think of what to do. "I'll go with you," I said.

"Allow me," he said, bowing low and opening the door.

18.

I wasn't sure what I'd expected. I'd never snuck off campus before. I guess I thought Drew might race the truck toward the gates while the security team released savage German shepherds and shot up the back window in a blaze of gunfire. Drew had me sit on the pa.s.senger-side floor, and he tossed his coat over the top of my head. He eased up to the security gate at the front of campus and casually chatted with the guard-someone named Earl-for a few minutes about football, before we pulled away. There were no alarms, no searchlights, no police barricades. The whole thing was almost anticlimactic. wasn't sure what I'd expected. I'd never snuck off campus before. I guess I thought Drew might race the truck toward the gates while the security team released savage German shepherds and shot up the back window in a blaze of gunfire. Drew had me sit on the pa.s.senger-side floor, and he tossed his coat over the top of my head. He eased up to the security gate at the front of campus and casually chatted with the guard-someone named Earl-for a few minutes about football, before we pulled away. There were no alarms, no searchlights, no police barricades. The whole thing was almost anticlimactic.

"You can sit up now," Drew said.

I pulled myself up and clicked the seat belt. The vinyl seats of the truck were patched here and there with duct tape. The truck was old. It had a tape deck. My legs were bare and covered with goose b.u.mps. I pulled my socks up to cover as much real estate as possible.

Drew slammed his hand against the dashboard. "Sorry. The heater is kind of dodgy." He slammed his hand again, and then a rush of hot air whooshed out of the vent. "Are you freezing? There's a sweats.h.i.+rt in the back somewhere."

Without looking he hooked his arm over the back of the seat and started fis.h.i.+ng around in the pile of junk that was in the back of the cab. There seemed to be an array of books, sporting gear, and clothing. Like a magician with a rabbit, he yanked a sweats.h.i.+rt out of the middle of the pile. There was a Boston Bruins logo across the front. He handed it to me. I held it pinched between two fingers.

"It's clean," Drew said, looking over at me with a smile. "At least, there's no Ebola on it or anything."

"Of course. I wasn't thinking that." I gave it a quick sniff test. It didn't smell funny. In fact it smelled nice, like pine trees. I pulled it on over my sweater. I pulled the length of it over my knees. "Where are we going?"

"Your first skip day." Drew shook his head as if he were overcome by the enormity of it all. "We have to do something good. You can't waste something like that. We'll get some breakfast at Denny's and come up with a plan."

"Who's Denny?"

Drew laughed. "You're joking, right? Denny's? As in Denny's restaurant?"

"Oh, right. Of course."

Drew stopped the truck in the middle of the road. "You've never been to a Denny's, have you?"

"I have been to a Denny's. My family stopped at one once when we were driving to New York."

"You didn't eat there, did you? You went there for the bathroom."

"Don't make a federal case out of it." I pulled my hands up into the sleeves of the sweats.h.i.+rt.

"Where does your family go for breakfast?"

"Will you just drive? G.o.d. We go out. We just don't go to Denny's. There are other places to eat, you know."

Drew put the truck back into drive, and we headed toward town. "Where do you go? Four Seasons?"

"You have some sort of obsession for Denny's, don't you? Were you raised by wolves in a Denny's parking lot?" I s.h.i.+fted in the seat. I wasn't going to tell him, but we did used to go to the Four Seasons for Sunday brunch. My mom used to love their smoked salmon eggs Benedict.

"Your first Grand Slam and and your first skip day. I feel like we should get a picture taken or something. You could frame it later for your fireplace mantel. A person never forgets their first Slam." your first skip day. I feel like we should get a picture taken or something. You could frame it later for your fireplace mantel. A person never forgets their first Slam."

I had no idea what he was talking about. I'd thought a grand slam had something to do with baseball. Was he planning to take me to a game? Did anyone even play baseball this time of year?

We pulled into the Denny's parking lot, and I followed Drew inside. The restaurant seemed to be decorated in orange and yellow surfaces that all could be cleaned with a power washer-vinyl seats, tile floors, laminate countertops. Given the amount of grease that seemed to be in the air, it probably took a pressure washer to get this place clean. Drew walked right past the WAIT HERE TO BE SEATED WAIT HERE TO BE SEATED sign and grabbed a couple of menus out of the server's lectern, waving at the cook as he walked by. The cook waved back with a spatula. Why was I not surprised he was a regular? sign and grabbed a couple of menus out of the server's lectern, waving at the cook as he walked by. The cook waved back with a spatula. Why was I not surprised he was a regular?

"Hey, darling! I'll bring you some coffee," a waitress called out. Drew slid into a booth and motioned for me to take the other seat. He began to pore over the menu as if it contained the secret of the universe. I sat down and touched the tabletop carefully, looking for any random sticky spots. There were a few places where cigarette b.u.t.ts had burned the laminate, back in the days when smoking in restaurants was legal. The waitress came by, dropping two coffee cups out from under her arm and artfully pouring coffee into them before they had even stopped rattling on the tabletop. Her other hand held a rag that looked like it had last been clean around the turn of the century, and she used it to wipe the table down, no doubt smearing bacteria all over. Drew could mock the Four Seasons if he liked, but there was something to be said for fresh linen tablecloths.

The waitress looked me over, noting my uniform skirt. She raised an eyebrow at Drew. I was impressed she could lift it, given the amount of foundation that was on her face.

"We're going to need a range of things here. I'm not sure we can choose. We'll have the All-American Slam, a Lumberjack Slam, a side of biscuits and sausage gravy, the smothered hash browns . . . oh, and some pancakes. Are you still doing that stuffed French toast, too? The one with the strawberries?" Drew ran his finger down the menu to make sure there wasn't anything he had forgotten.

"You got it, Drew. You need cream for the coffee, sweetheart?"

I looked down at the coffee. "Do you make lattes?"

"Does this look like Starbucks?" She asked with a snap of her gum.

"Right. I'll have the cream." I considered asking her if they could warm the cream up in the back, but I decided it wouldn't go over well, and with my luck she would spit in my eggs. Drew gave a nod to the busboy as he pa.s.sed with his tub of dirty dishes.

"Do you know every Denny's employee, or just the ones that work at this location?" I asked him.

"I used to work here in the kitchen, and I still help out once in a while if they're short staffed."

"Can't resist the allure of the food, huh?"

"Can't resist the extra cash. Somehow I managed to misplace my trust fund, so I've got to stockpile as much as I can for Yale."

I wasn't sure exactly how much Yale cost, but I knew it wasn't cheap. I was worried enough about getting in. I couldn't imagine worrying about how to pay for it too.

"Maybe you can get a scholars.h.i.+p," I suggested. "There's all kinds of information about that stuff online."

Drew c.o.c.ked his head and looked at me. "Careful, or I'm going to start thinking you care. Don't you worry about me. I've applied for loans and grants, and that fancy school of yours pays pretty good to clean desks. I'll come up with the money." He rubbed his hands together. "Now we have to decide what to do with the day."

"Why do we have to do anything?"

"Because this is found time. It's a gift. Where should you be right now?"

I looked over at the yellowing plastic clock that hung on the wall. "Math."

"Now, isn't this better than math?" Drew motioned around the room.

"I'm withholding judgment at this point."

"Now you're just being a snot. If you're going to skip, then you have to do something worthwhile. Otherwise the trouble won't be worth it." Drew snapped his fingers. "We could go skiing."

I looked at him. Was he nuts? "I don't know how to ski."

"You look like you have the capacity to learn. I can spot talent. You look like a natural. Didn't your mom and dad ever take you to Aspen? Maybe doing a bit of snow time with the royal family in the Alps?"

"No." I sipped the coffee. It wasn't bad. "I can't say the queen and I have done a lot of s...o...b..arding."

The waitress was back. She filled the table with plates. "The French toast is still coming."

I poked the gray object on the plate in front of me with my fork. It looked like it might fight back.

"Biscuits with sausage gravy. Looks disgusting, tastes great." Drew jabbed his fork in and held a clump of it out in front of my face. He waved it back and forth in front of my lips. "Open up, or I'm going to start making choo-choo noises."

I opened my mouth, and he popped the food in. I was prepared for it to taste like dryer lint covered in Elmer's glue, but it was actually sort of tasty.

"Ah, not bad, huh?" Drew stuck the fork back in and ate some. "Try the hash browns. Give that Four Seasons palate a good grease wash."

I wasn't crazy about the hash browns-they were too greasy for me-but the French toast when it arrived was beyond divine. Drew clearly took his eating seriously, because he didn't attempt conversation while we ate. He would look up and smile every so often, but otherwise he was focused on his food.