Dumplin - Julie Murphy Page 0,29
the hallway toward me with Tim at her heels.
“So sorry!” she breathes. Tim squeezes her hand as he runs past her and on to his next class.
“What were you even doing?”
Her eyebrows pop up and down as she shrugs.
I shake my head and follow her inside.
There are only two desks left. One behind Callie, El’s coworker, who is waving her to come over. And the other is at the long table at the back of the room next to Mitch Lewis.
El turns to me and whispers, “I’m sorry, Will. We’ll get here early next class. I promise.”
I shuffle to the back of the room to sit next to Mitch.
As I sit down, Mitch pulls his backpack in, so that I’ve got more space at my end of the table. Mitch is big. He’s got a bit of a belly and shoulders wider than most door frames, but people don’t look at him and think fat. They think athletic. Which makes sense seeing as he’s a defensive tackle for the CCHS Rams.
“Hey,” he whispers. His accent is the type of southern accent you hear Hollywood actors use. It’s almost charming. “Will, right?”
With my eyes on Mr. Krispin, I nod, like I can’t bear to be torn away from his riveting roll call.
“Well, I’d be willing to bet we haven’t shared a classroom since the sixth grade.”
“Mrs. Salisbury.” I smile, surprised that he even remembers. She was the best teacher I’ve ever had. I remember Mitch because he would ask the silliest questions, like, “Why can’t we see air?” and while everyone would snigger underneath their breath, she would answer his question. And her answer would be so smart that you’d start to realize maybe his question wasn’t so dumb in the first place.
Mr. Krispin goes through the first day motions and as the bell is buzzing, he says, “I hope none of you struggle with commitment issues. Where you sat today will be your assigned seat for the semester.”
As the rest of the class is pushing for the door, El fights the tide to get to me. “I am so sorry,” she says.
“It’s our only class together,” I say. “And we don’t even get to sit next to each other.”
Callie slips through the crowd and interrupts us. “El-bell, you’re heading to C-hall, right?” She turns to me. “Hi, Willow.”
I fake smile as wide as my face will stretch.
Ellen squeezes my hand. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” She’s three steps in the opposite direction before she turns and adds, “And hey, I’ll talk to Krispin about the seating chart.”
I see no evidence of Bo all day long except for his little brother when I pass the freshman hall. Even though I’ll see Bo at work tonight, I feel sweet relief as I head for the parking lot in search of Tim’s Jeep.
“Will!” I glance up. Mitch’s head bobs far above the crowd. “Walk with me!”
I find myself smiling as he catches up to me.
He falls in step with me and says, “So, what do you, like, do?”
I almost laugh, but then I feel Mrs. Salisbury like a little bird on my shoulder. “Besides school?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I work.” My shoulders hunch up in a question. “I watch TV?”
“Where do you work?”
“Harpy’s. Why?”
He steps in front of me and holds the door leading outside open for me. “Well, I want to know where I should take you on our date, and I figure I should find out a little more about you before I decide on a destination.”
“Our date?” I wait as he holds the door for a stampede of freshman girls.
Manners. Sweet Jesus. He has manners.
“Yeah. The date I’m about to ask you on. So, you’ll do me the honor of allowing me to take you on a date?”
“I— Why?”
“Why did I ask you out?”
I nod.
“Well, you’re cute. And you remember me from sixth grade.”
“Okay.” I’m not thrilled by the sound of cute, but it’s better than some other names I’ve been called. “Have you ever asked a girl out before?”
“A few.”
“Have any ever said yes?” I stop and turn to him, my hands thrown up in the air. “Wait. No. You know what?” That image of Bo in the storeroom flashes through my memory. I hear him say my name and the thought feels like nothing more than a dead end. “Yes. Yes. I will go on a date with you.”
He holds his hand out for a shake and I take it. I expect his palm to be sweaty, but it’s