Senior Year Memories Ch. 32

I didn't know her well, but it still felt bad to cut her off. The bell ringing, however, made that a bit necessary. I asked, "Can we discuss this later?"

"Oh... sure," she said, a little deflated. Jennifer pulled out her phone and handed it to me. "Can you input your number? In case I need to get in touch with you and you're unavailable?"

"Sure," I said, adding my number to her phone very carefully so as to not spread Brooke's juices on it. There was something off, and a little odd about her. I'd fulfilled a lot of odd requests for women since the beginning of this school year, but I'd only rarely gotten the impression that something was being hidden from me. There was something more to what Jennifer wanted to talk to me about, more than just something about sex (because I wasn't completely blind), but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't worrying... but it had me curious.

"Thanks," she said, looking at me nervously before darting away.

Sighing and smiling, I followed her into the school, ready to see what the rest of the day had to throw at me.

Honestly, I didn't know that the answer to that was going to be, "A lot."

***

With what I needed to accomplish during lunchtime, I was glad I packed one that could be eaten quickly. I polished off my sandwich, chips and soda in a few minutes and headed over to the Puma Press offices to see what a newly returned Nadia Barclay had to unleash upon us.

I wasn't alone.

"B-plus? Not bad!" I said as I looked at Peter Nixon's history test.

"I was thinking of calling it pretty fucking great, but I guess I can deal with 'not bad'. Mrs. Lynn said I showed great improvement. I owe a lot of that to you, man, so, thanks," Peter said, smiling down at me with his big, joyous grin.

Now, of all my odd friendships this year, Peter Nixon had to be one of the strangest. Peter was large, muscular, black, and popular, one of our school's star football players who actually had something to boast about when it came to on field skill. Devastatingly handsome and a major ladies man, I used to avoid him simply for being one of the popular kids, and then for being friends with my old bully, Kyle Bowman. Tutoring him in history had revealed him to be surprisingly kind and thoughtful, a young man who wanted to graduate on something more than just his skills on the football field in spite of his dyslexia.

I didn't have many guy friends this year, but I knew Peter was a pretty good one to have.

"Well, pretty fucking great is a much more accurate way to describe it," I admitted.

"See? That's what I'm talking about. Don't hold back, man, just go for what you want to say and say it. Confidence! It's a beautiful thing, isn't it?" he replied.

I laughed. "I'm working on it."

"A résumé like yours and you're still just 'working on it'? You and me, we gotta hang out some time. You've taught me some lessons, now it's my turn to teach you something," he said.

Not that I didn't think he could teach me anything, since Peter was always something of a high school philosopher, but still I asked, "And what've you got to teach me?"

"That you're more than you think you are, Ryan. You still think you're the same skinny nerd that everyone convinced you you were, but you're not that guy anymore. You've done things, seen things that barely anyone gets to experience in a lifetime, and you should own that! Face it, Ryan, you're actually pretty cool, now," Peter said.

"Me? Cool?" I said, looking out across the quad in disbelief. At a statement like that I nearly expected to see all eyes in school on me, but the only person who looked back at me was Jennifer. I couldn't help but think that she was waiting for me again, but when she ran away that thought fell apart.

"Not cool like everyone would think of it, because everyone's definition of cool is determined by a pop culture and media that don't really know what it really takes to be cool, but, yeah, I'd say you're definitely pretty cool. You're smart, sometimes you're funny, and your way with the ladies goes beyond a guy who's blessed downtown," Peter said, his eyes dropping to what was in my pants for emphasis. "You're pretty cool, believe it or not. Now you just gotta believe it."

"That's easier said than done," I said.

"You've internalized a lot of shit. I can see that. We all do. Lord knows I have. For the longest time, I thought all I had was a good smile and some serious football skills because that's all anyone ever told me I had. I thought I was happy with that, but I wasn't. Ever since I realized I wanted more, that I wanted people to appreciate me for being more than strong and charming and good-looking, I've been happier with myself. I was well on my way when we first started working together, but now? You've helped me, I want to help you," Peter said, smiling warmly.

That... well, that touched me more than I thought it might. Peter was right, that I had internalized a lot of bad feelings about myself, feelings that others at school and in life had encouraged, and that even though I was happier than I had ever been at school, I could be happier if I got rid of some of those toxic thoughts I still held onto about myself.

"So... what have you got for me, Cool Sensei?" I asked.

Peter laughed. "Cool Sensei... I like that. And what I've got is more than I can teach you in the next thirty feet. It's mostly talking, let's build your confidence, make it so you talk like you know you're worth as much as you are, maybe we can talk about your clothes..."

"What's wrong with my clothes? I like my clothes," I said, clutching at my sleeves. I was wearing my usual jeans and graphic tee with a light jacket to keep out the modest chill in the air, and on the surface it didn't feel like I was dressed any different than Peter. He had jeans and a t-shirt too, and sure, his looked nicer because they probably were nicer, and sure most things would look nicer on a guy like Peter and... okay, fair enough, he may have known what he was talking about.

"And there's nothing wrong with someone having a style that suits them, I'm just saying that we can add to your wardrobe instead of replacing it, you know? Help you look a little cooler, impress the girls even more than you already have? Seal some deals, open some doors... keep your own style for most of the time, I'm just helping you in those times when a little style will come in handy, show them your appreciation when they get all nice and dolled up for you..." he said.

Peter was smooth, I had to give him that. I know a few of the girls I'd been with had offered me some fashion advice, but I'd always tried to hold on to my own style. Maybe Peter was right.

"Sounds like an idea," I said as we reached the Puma Press offices.

"Good. We'll talk, soon," he said, playfully clapping me on the back with one of his big, strong hands. "And thanks again for the tutoring. I'm liking seeing these grades go up."

"Hey, you earned it, remember," I said.

"I do," Peter said, walking away, grinning proudly. "Oh, how I do."

Smiling, I took a breath and stepped inside the Puma Press' offices.

I was expecting a scene of tightly packed, low-key chaos now that Nadia was back.

I wasn't wrong.

As ever, the room was small and packed, claustrophobic in a busy way that would've really gotten to me if I hadn't spent so much time in here getting used to it. Most of the action seemed to be around the far corner of the room near the dark room, where a cluster had gathered around a pair of computers. I recognized the pair sitting at the computers as Nica Dubois, the slender assistant editor of the paper, and Hope Harris, the lanky brunette band geek and writer for the paper. Standing over them were Josie, who looked at me and rolled her eyes, and Nadia. The beautiful black editor of our school paper and I had had our share of memorable encounters in this very room, but when it came to crunch time, she was a force to be reckoned with, and one whose way you generally wanted to get out of.

"I'd grab a seat and stay out of this if I were you," a cool, calm voice said from behind. "Perhaps get away while you still could."

I looked at the speaker, and found sitting in a chair at one of the desks beside me 18-year-old Leah Sartori, another of our paper's photographers. Olive-skinned and with short, wavy black hair with bangs in the front, she was definitely cute in a bohemian sort of way, 5'4", tight-bodied and dressed in comfortable jeans, a t-shirt and cardigan. With a small septum piercing and black-painted lips, she's easy to first take for a goth girl, but as an out and proud Wiccan, it was easy to see the other signs, the bracelet of crystals and hematite, the pentacle necklace with a couple nice points of amethyst on either side of the star. We hadn't had much time to talk while on the paper together, but, I'd found her a relaxed presence in a generally stressful place.

I followed her advice, taking a seat next to her while the meeting with the others went down.

"How bad is it?" I asked.

"It would depend on your definition of bad," Leah said, turning her chair to face me. "On a cosmic scale, it's not much to get worried about, lost like dust in the wind, tears in the rain, whichever metaphor suits you best, but if you're in Nadia's shoes, it's close to the end of the world."

I couldn't hear what they were saying in their corner, but the body language told me the same story. I said, "You miss almost a month of school, a lot can happen."

"Oh, definitely," Leah said, kicking her feet up on the desk once certain that Nadia couldn't see her. "January has been a most chaotic month in general, hasn't it? A month of aimlessness and false starts, the kind of month where adventures are had but were uncertain to what end they might be?"

That... well, that sounded correct. Almost too correct. Rather than say anything, I simply nodded.

Leah laughed lightly. "I could go on for ages about planets and moons and explaining how their positions may or may not have led to the strangeness and scattershot path of January, but then I'd be rambling, and who wants a rambling witch?"

"I don't mind one," I said.

"*I* mind one," she laughed again, tilting her head back cutely. "February's going to be better. I sense a definite order to things, one that might require a little help, but that's what us helpful types are around for, isn't it?"

Leah raised an eyebrow at me. I said, "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"And I'm sure you do," she replied. "You're a helper, Ryan. You help those who need it, when they need it, with whatever skills you have in your arsenal. I find it admirable. I try to help how I can, when I can, and more often than not I've found it doesn't blow up in my face."

"More often than not?" I asked.

"Well, we can't always succeed, can we?" Leah asked.

I spotted a figure slinking out from the Dark Room, the office's photo lab and quiet hangout that I'd had a few fun exploits in. I didn't have to see more than the shock of red curls that quickly ducked down between the tables to know that Tori McNeil was very much trying to avoid Nadia.

I sighed. "No, we can't."

She crawled in front of Leah and me, keeping low between the tables and quickly looking over her shoulder toward the meeting where Nadia was, before looking back at us.

"Don't let her know I was in here?" Tori asked us.

"Never," I said.

"Your secret's safe with us," Leah said, amused.

"Thanks," Tori whispered. "Nadia thinks I'm late on some projects that Nica gave me more time on to approach more thoroughly, so... I'm dodging her until they're done."

"We've got you," I said.

Grateful, Tori looked up at me and repeated, "Thanks."

Quickly, she crawled toward the door and made a quick escape outside.

Smiling, Leah said, "It's good to see the two of you getting on better."

"It's better to be better. At least, more civil. December... was hard. January's been a little better," I said.

Leah nodded knowingly. "New year. New beginnings. The chance to make it the Fool's Month if you really wish for it to be."

"The Fool's Month?" I asked. I couldn't understand why anyone would choose to start their year as a fool, but Leah was the kind of girl who had her own reasons and understanding for most things in our world, I'd found.

"Not an official term, just something I dabble with. Words have a power, I try to... sculpt them, embrace them accordingly," she said, nodding at me knowingly. "The Fool is the first card of the Major Arcana, and is only a fool for not being changed by the journey they've yet to take. They may start a chaotic, confused individual, but they are one who will soon find their purpose and guidance. What may have felt chaotic and uncertain may only reveal a path ahead that feels all too clear, so long as the Fool is brave enough to take those first steps. Depending on your deck, that first step may be off a cliff, but sometimes it's worth it."

"That's..." I didn't know what that was. I wasn't much of a believer in anything terribly spiritual, but the easy, confident way Leah spoke of it I couldn't help but be a little drawn in.

Laughing nervously, she said, "I've just... yeah... I like to look into these sorts of things if it wasn't obvious already. Of course, that's only one interpretation, there are a lot of ways of looking at any card."

Lacking an easy response and sensing her nervousness, I tried to show her I wasn't weirded out by what she'd said, "Has it been a good Fool's Month for you?"

"I think it has," she sighed pleasantly, smiling at me brightly. "I've been doing a lot of soul-searching, a lot of consideration of how I want to handle the rest of senior year... and I think I might have figured out what I wish to do with the rest."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"And perhaps there might be a part for you to play as well," she said mysteriously. "We shall see what happens as we transition from the month of fools into the month of lovers, no? February is just around the corner, after all."

"Ryan? Leah?" Nadia called out, waving us over.

"Good luck," I whispered to Leah as I stood up.

"And to you as well," Leah replied, gently grasping her pentacle.

The two of us got up and walked over toward Nadia's corner. While Nica stayed with her, Josie and Hope walked toward us on their way out of the room.

"She's not in as bad a mood as she seems, but it's still not great," Josie whispered as she passed.

"Thanks," I whispered back.

Nadia wasn't looking at her happiest as she stood over Nica, but Nica, as nearly-unflappable as ever, sat in her seat beaming up at me.

"Ryan, Leah, thank you for coming in for this check-in," Nadia said.

"What? You don't want to start with the good news first?" Nica replied, smiling.

"There's good news?" I asked.

Nadia didn't exactly scowl, but she did something a lot like it. "I was going to get to that."

"Ah, but if you begin with good news, then whatever follows is easier to swallow. Haven't you watched Mary Poppins?" Nica chided.

"What good news?" Leah asked.

"More for Ryan and me than you, but good news all the same," Nica said smugly, pulling a certificate from beside her computer. "You and me, Ryan, we got an award."

"An award?" I asked, surprised. I didn't think any of the school newspaper writing competitions Nadia wanted to win were until the end of the year.

"It's nothing official," Nadia grumbled, snatching the paper from Nica's hands. "I just wanted to show appreciation for the hard work you two put in while I was out sick, and I might have had a moment of feeling cheesy that I'm suddenly regretting..."

"Regret nothing! It is an award! Ryan and I won, we shall enjoy it, shan't we, Ryan?" Nica said, smiling proudly.

I shared her pride, because such praise from Nadia wasn't exactly common if it didn't involve some quality sex first. That wasn't a criticism Nadia, but more a matter of how serious she took the dealings at the Puma Press.

"I'll enjoy it," I said.

"Feel free to enjoy it later, now I would greatly like some updates as to what everyone has been keeping up to while I was out," Nadia said. Nadia had been keeping up with most of us while she was out sick, and though she may have been out of commission for a couple weeks, you couldn't tell it now for how fiercely she'd jumped back on the horse.

"If you're asking if I've been keeping up on my sports photos, I have. It's not my favorite, but you know I'm good at it," Leah said confidently.

"She is," Nica said.

"I know. I want to see what you've taken while I've been out," Nadia said. "Upload them to our Google Drive?"

"Already done," Leah said, sounding nice and smug.

"Excellent. This is why I love working with you, Leah. And you, Ryan? What's happening in the world of Current Events? Our class president caught doing anything impeachment-worthy?" Nadia said, her tones equal part joking and hoping that I potentially had found something that fun.

Unluckily for her, our class president, Sabrina Singh, was an overachiever and straight arrow of the highest order and unlikely to have found herself in the midst of that kind of scandal. I did have something, though, from my recent experiences that might have interested her.

"Well, I've gotten a line in with the drama department recently, there's apparently some drama going on behind the scenes with the spring musical," I said.

"Oh?" Nadia asked. "Do tel-"

With a cacophony that sounded like the end of the world at our gates, the door to the Puma Press offices slammed open across the room from us, and a voice exuberantly shouted, "A-FUCKING-MINUS, RYAN!"

In the silence that followed, you could have heard a pin drop as all guests turned to our newest guest. Nadia looked at me disgruntled, while the other members of the team looked back and forth from me, to the room's invader, to Nadia, wondering what was going to break first.

Smiling sheepishly, I turned my attention to the figure holding the door open.

"Hi, Jess," I said as inevitability crashed down all around me. Though I'd tensed up upon her initial devastating entry, now I was more relaxed.

Over the last month that I'd gotten to know 18-year-old Jess Garza, I'd known her to have two settings. Affable stoner who enjoyed a good laugh and stirring the pot, and a 5'2" freight train of energy and enthusiasm that you couldn't hope to contain any more than you could contain an earthquake.

Today she was in freight train mode. The Latina skater was dressed in her usual old hoodie, torn jeans and knit cap, backpack over one shoulder and skateboard tucked under her arm, but none of these could hide how hot she was. Her hoodie was unzipped enough to show off her DD tits hidden behind a tight, midriff baring shirt that displayed a fair stretch of her soft brown cleavage, while her jeans could barely contain her impressively wide, round ass. Short, dark curls hung out from underneath her knit cap, framing a cute face with big eyes and a proud smile. She bounced on her feet, barely able to contain her energy, and when I saw the test she held in her hand with an A- written on top of it, I knew why.

"Congratulations," I added.

"Thanks!" Jess exclaimed.

"Can you step outside, please? We're having a discussion," Nadia said, not quite scowling but getting closer by the second. Nica and Leah at least seemed amused by this.

"And I'm supposed to have a fucking discussion with him too, but probably a way more interesting one because it involves us mixing good grades and sex, ain't that right, Ryan? You made a promise, and it's time to pay up because I got a motherfucking A-minus, bitches!" Jess declared, not caring for even a second about how flush my face was getting in front of my colleagues.

"We got that, but good on you," Nica said, smirking.