cataloguing everything for later discussion with her gal pals.
“Call him,” Ms. Hargensen said. “Give Margie your phone, Craig.”
Margie called Dad and told him to come pick us up. He said something. Margie listened, then said, “Well, there was a little trouble.” Listened some more. “Um . . . well . . .”
Billy took the phone. “He got beat up, but he’s okay.” Listened and held out the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
Of course he did, and after asking if I was all right, he wanted to know who had done it. I said I didn’t know, but thought it was a high school kid who might’ve been trying to crash the dance. “I’m all right, Dad. Let’s not make a big deal of this, okay?”
He said it was a big deal. I said it wasn’t. He said it was. We went around like that, then he sighed and said he’d be there as fast as he could. I ended the call.
Ms. Hargensen said, “I’m not supposed to dispense anything for pain, only the school nurse can do that, and only then with parental permission, but she’s not here, so . . .” She grabbed her purse, which was hanging on a hook with her coat, and peered inside. “Are any of you kids going to tell on me, and maybe cause me to lose my job?”
My three friends shook their heads. So did I, but gingerly. Kenny had caught me with a pretty good roundhouse to the left temple. I hoped the bullying bastard had hurt his hand.
Ms. Hargensen brought out a little bottle of Aleve. “My private stock. Billy, get him some water.”
Billy brought me a Dixie cup. I swallowed the pill and felt better immediately. Such is the power of suggestion, especially when the one doing the suggesting is a gorgeous young woman.
“You three, make like bees and buzz,” Ms. Hargensen said. “Billy, go in the gym and tell Mr. Taylor I’ll be back in ten minutes. Girls, go outside and wait for Craig’s father. Wave him over to the staff door.”
They went. Ms. Hargensen leaned over me, close enough so I could smell her perfume, which was wonderful. I fell in love with her. I knew it was sappy but couldn’t help it. She held up two fingers. “Please tell me you don’t see three or four.”
“No, just two.”
“Okay.” She straightened up. “Was it Yanko? It was, wasn’t it?”
“No.”
“Do I look stupid? Tell me the truth.”
How she looked was beautiful, but I could hardly say that. “No, you don’t look stupid, but it wasn’t Kenny. Which is good. Because, see, if it was him, I bet he’d get arrested, because he’s already expelled. Then there’d be a trial and I’d have to go in court and tell how he beat me up. Everyone would know. Think how embarrassing that would be.”
“And if he beats somebody else up?”
I thought of Mr. Harrigan then—channeled him, you could even say. “That’s their problem. All I care is that he’s done with me.”
She tried to scowl. Her lips curved in a big smile instead, and I fell more in love with her than ever. “That’s cold.”
“I just want to get along,” I said. Which was the God’s honest truth.
“You know what, Craig? I think you will.”
* * *
When my dad got there, he looked me over and complimented Ms. Hargensen on her work.
“I was a prizefight cut-man in my last life,” she said. That made him laugh. Neither of them suggested a trip to the emergency room, which was a relief.
Dad took the four of us home, so we missed the second half of the dance, but none of us minded. Billy, Margie, and Regina had had an experience more interesting than waving their hands in the air to Beyoncé and Jay-Z. As for me, I kept reliving the satisfying shock that had gone up my arm when my fist connected with Kenny Yanko’s eye. It was going to leave a splendid shiner, and I wondered how he’d explain it. Duh, I ran into a door. Duh, I ran into a wall. Duh, I was jerking off and my hand slipped.
When we were back at the house, Dad asked me again if I knew who had done it. I said I didn’t.
“Not sure I believe that, son.”
I said nothing.
“You just want to let this go? Is that what I’m hearing?”
I nodded.
“All right.” He sighed. “I guess I get it. I was young once myself. That’s a thing parents always