Chapter 9 - A Million Rainbows

I was sitting in the guidance counselor’s office, going over my college plans.

It was such a small, stuffy room. Mrs. Bailey was sitting behind her desk, shuffling through my file. She was Black. Pretty. Her makeup was always nicely done. She dressed in suits and wore jewelry and high-heel pumps, all polished and put together like her job was important.

“So I see you didn’t add any extracurriculars like I recommended?” she said.

“Well, I volunteer at the nursing home when I can.”

“But you don’t have any clubs, after-school activities, sports, music programs … Schools want to see that you’re involved, well-rounded.”

I tucked my fingers under my legs. “Yeah. I haven’t been able to fit any in. I was hoping my grades would make up for it.”

She nodded. “Your grades are …” She paused, looking over my papers. “Excellent. Really impressive, Bree. You’ve managed top grades in an impressive nine AP classes. And your SAT and ACT scores are incredible. They’ll take note of that. Do you have your top picks in mind?”

“I was thinking BU.”

“That’s a good school. And what were you thinking about majoring in?”

“Business Administration.”

“Very practical.”

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Ninn says you excel in English. She was raving about you. Have you ever thought about an English degree?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not as practical, though.”

Mrs. Bailey nodded. “Well, you have several teachers … Mrs. Ninn, Mr. Lord, Mr. Andrews … all of whom have written very, highly praised recommendation letters for you. Those will go a long way. Plus, the AP classes, your test scores, and even the nursing home. But you might want to include in your essay, explaining a little about why you haven’t participated here at school.” She tapped her pen on her desk, eyeing me with her all-knowing, all-seeing, guidance counselor eyes. “You can be honest with them. Give them the truth. They want to know who you are … why you’re special.”

I wasn’t special. But I nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

She glanced at my papers again. “So how is the scholarship search going? I know you were awarded the 10k SNC Literary Scholarship last spring for that piece you wrote on hunger in America—congratulations once again. And I see the Pell Grant has come through. Have you had a chance to look into any of the other privately funded scholarships I emailed you about? I sent you quite a few applications over the summer.”

I pulled my hands up and folded them in my lap. “Yeah, thanks. Um, good, actually. I kind of dedicated my summer to applying to as many as possible. I’ve had some luck with a few of the smaller merit-based scholarships. It’s still a little under what I’ll need, but it’s a good start, I guess.”

“Wow, that’s great. Excellent work.”

“Thank you.”

Mrs. Bailey smiled at me. “Your drive and determination are pretty impressive, Bree. So are you putting your applications in this fall?”

I crossed my feet at my ankles. “I wasn’t sure about that.”

“What are you waiting for? It would do you good to get those in. With your grades, I’m sure you’d be up for some of the college-sponsored merit aid scholarships as well, and those deadlines are fast approaching.”

“Right.”

“So why wait?”

I hesitated with my answer because it wasn’t the truth. “I was hoping to check out a few more campuses before I decide.” The truth was I didn’t know what was holding me back. It was fear, I think.

“Do you have those tours booked?”

“Not yet.”

“You might as well get your applications in. Still do the tours, of course, but there’s no harm in applying. You don’t want to risk missing the Early Decision deadlines.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“All right. Is there anything else you want to talk about? Besides college and grades, which you seem to have a pretty good handle on.”

“Um, no.”

She was giving me that searing, omniscient stare again. “Are you sure? I noticed you were tardy three times this week. Is there anything going on at home that you want to talk about?”

My breath hitched. I swallowed something hard. “No. My mom was sick this week, and I needed to help get my sister to school.

She nodded, keeping a skeptical eye on me. “Okay. Well, if there’s anything else, let me know.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh Bree, you know I hate that. I’m only thirty-two.”

Thirty-two? Ma’am still seemed appropriate. “Sorry,” I said.

She smiled. “Okay. You can go. I’m here if you ever need anything. And I mean that. It’s my job, okay? Make me work for this shitty office.”

It was shitty—barely big enough for her desk, let alone two chairs and two people.

“Okay. Thanks,” I said, trying to smile at her joke.

She handed me a hall pass since the dismissal bell was about to ring. I clicked the door shut and stood in the quiet corridor by myself, settling down because those meetings made me so nervous. Mrs. Bailey was always trying to pry into my life. Shining lights in dark corners that were supposed to remain veiled and hidden.

I made my way over to my locker, gathering my stuff. It was Friday, and I was so done with this week.

The interest in me in Kyle had faded, at least. It had reached its peak by Tuesday with more texts going around, including some very graphic details about our supposed sex life, some of them even saying I was knocked up and dropping out of school. What the hell?

But Kyle hadn’t even looked at me or talked to me all week. And I think by now everyone realized the obvious truth—he was too good for me.

On a high note, Mr. Disgusting with his ugly body hair had finally left our house. He had stayed till Wednesday. That was three days of me being tardy all in the same week, plus the one day at the start of school, making four. They only allowed five per semester, so I was well on my way to getting my first ever detention—yay. Thanks, Mom.

Charlie pulled strands of windblown hair from her face, freeing her lips so she could continue her story. “And Ethan didn’t even wisten. He said since he had boots, he didn’t have to.”

We were walking down the sidewalk to the library. She had been talking nonstop about this rebel Ethan since school let out, getting all worked up over this infraction he had committed at recess.

“Well, what did Mrs. Donavan say?”

“She said he couldn’t, but he still wouldn’t wisten.”

“And she didn’t try to stop him?”

Charlie shook her head. It was a really strong headshake. Her curls were flying. Her big judgmental eyes were hard and disapproving under her furrowed brow.

I opened the door to the library, letting her through. “Well, maybe since he had boots, she thought it’d be okay.”

“Nuh-huh. No one can go in the mud. Even with boots.”

I shrugged, placing our books on the return counter. What else could I say? There was no gray area for Charlie when it came to rules. Ethan would be sentenced to life.

“Kyew!” The quiet library filled with Charlie’s tiny voice.

I never heard Charlie say his name. But I understood Charlie-speech perfectly.

I turned around.

Kyle was standing beside the revolving DVD rack, apparently waiting for us … I guess.

“Hey, Pumpkin Patch!” he said, offering her a ground sweeping, nearly touching the floor, low-five, and she squatted to tap it.

I stared at Kyle, awkwardly switching the bag of donated groceries I was carrying to my other hand, wishing I had a place to toss it (this was the second time he’d seen me with these).

It was trying, but my brain wasn’t finding anything to say. I had spent all week avoiding even looking at Kyle, and now that he was standing right in front of me, I couldn’t even meet his eyes.

“Hey, Dover,” he said, drawing my attention his way. He was holding something—a crinkly, brown paper bag that looked like it might contain bread.

“What are you doing, Kyle?”

He gave the DVD rack beside him a little push, letting it do two full rotations before answering. “Would you believe me if I said I’m here to renew my book?”

No. Not if he was talking about The Shining. That wasn’t due for another week. “You don’t even have it on you.” He was wearing dark denim jeans and a crisp, white T-shirt. He didn’t have his backpack. Just the brown paper bag he was holding. There was no book.

“Yeah, I guess not,” he said, fumbling a little.

“So what?” I asked, heading toward the children’s section, wanting to get out of the way of the door, and away from Mrs. Laurie. She was the only other person in the front of the small library with us, and it was obvious by the blatant smirk on her face that she was having too much fun eavesdropping.

I abandoned my backpack and groceries, placing them on a table. Kyle put his brown bag down among my things, and we trailed behind Charlie as she browsed for books.

He was being slow with his response. He kept pulling out books and placing them back randomly, which I knew was a crappy thing to do at a library, but I didn’t say anything.

“Kyle, you don’t have to apologize again. If that’s what you’re trying to do.”

He squinted his eyes, looking regretful. “No? I feel like I do.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything.” I raised my shoulders, offering him my pardon. But maybe there was more. Something I didn’t know. Maybe Kyle was the one who had started the rumors. “Unless you did do something—did you do something?”

Kyle looked up, his eyes searching somewhere in his perfect Kyle brain. “No, I don’t think so,” he said, but he sounded unsure about it.

I laughed. “Okay. Then stop apologizing. I’m fine. Really.”

Kyle chewed his cheek. “Then why were you late so much this week?”

He had noticed I was late. But that was probably only because I had come into math late every day, and math was the class we shared.

I looked away, fiddling with one of the books he had unorganized, trying to place it back correctly. I couldn’t focus on the tiny letters and gave up, stacking it on the top so the librarian could deal with it. “That was unrelated,” I said.

“What was it related to?”

Kyle didn’t want to know the answer to that question. The answer to that question was in a dark corner with a lot of other stuff he was never going to see.

“It was just something with my mom, that’s all.” I took a small, calculated breath to stop the tears that threatened. Why did talking to Kyle always make me want to cry?

“Hey, I have a lot of work to do,” I said, needing to change the subject, but it was true. “I need to use the computer while I’m here. I have that report on The Civil War and a research paper for science I need to work on.”

Kyle pressed his lips together. “Yeah, okay. I can go,” he said, suddenly looking like a lost dog.

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t have anything to do. I was waiting for Ryan to get out of practice. It’ll be another hour.”

“Well, you can stay at the library. I don’t own the library. But I really do need to get some work done.”

“Can I just hang here with Charlie for a bit? We’ll stay out of your hair.”

“You would take Charlie for me?”

This was not a diss to Charlie, because I dearly loved her, but she could be a handful sometimes. Trying to use the computer at the library with her around was like trying to swim in mud.

“Yeah.” Kyle sounded excited about the idea. “We’ll read some books. Play a little checkers.” There was a big cloth checkerboard on the floor in the corner of the kids’ section.

“Okay. That would be amazing, actually. Thanks.”

I went back to the table to grab my bag. The computers were down the hall near the entrance. I checked with Mrs. Laurie and quickly snagged one, resolved to focus on my work and not waste this precious Charlie-free time I suddenly had.

“Hey, Bree,” said Kyle, moving a chair over and plopping down beside me.

I looked over, adjusting my focus from the computer screen to Kyle. “Oh shit. What time is it?”

I had completely zoned out, having gotten way more work done than I could have imagined. I managed to print all the articles I would need to finish my report, had taken all the notes I would need for a research paper, and had even gotten started on an English essay. But it was six forty-five … the library would be closing in fifteen minutes.

“Kyle, you could have said something.” I felt incredibly guilty for ruining his plans. “What happened with Ryan?”

“No, that’s okay. I texted him. It’s fine. He’s got a new girlfriend. He was glad to get out of it.”

I pushed print on the pages that were open and gathered the papers and notes I’d been working on.

“How was Charlie? Was she okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I left her over there with a book. She was talking nonstop, telling me all about this kid Ethan and his boots or something?”

“Oh, yeah.” I laughed. “That deviant.” I stared at Kyle for a second, trying to figure something out. “She’s usually really quiet around people. She likes you for some reason.”

His lips smacked open, making an audible pop in the quiet room. “For some reason? Dover, I’m offended.”

I shrank a little. “Sorry, I thought it was a compliment.”

His eyes darted sideways before focusing back on me. “Okay. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Kyle fell silent, and we were just staring at each other in the quiet library with no one around. Just staring. I think it was only a second, but it felt long.

“Well, I guess I should go,” I said, pulling my shoulders up and feeling like I didn’t really want to go. Why didn’t I want to go? I wanted to stay at the library with Kyle. It was so dumb.

“So what are you guys doing tonight?” he asked.

“Watching a movie like we always do. Why?”

He looked at me, his eyes narrowed and squinting like he was considering something. “Ah, nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not even going to ask because I think you’ll just say no. So just take this bread my mom made.” He was holding the brown paper bag again, and he pushed it into my lap.

I wanted to ask him what it was he was going to say. But I was too struck. “Your mom made me bread?” I almost melted like the butter I’d be putting on this bread.

Kyle smiled. “Yeah, and this is just a fair warning. But my mom’s going to be making you a lot of bread. She’s obsessed with the stuff. It’s a problem, I think. I don’t know. I’m afraid to look into it. But now that she knows you like her bread … well, there’s nothing I can do, so you’re just going to have to get used to it. Okay?”

Now I really was melting. And I really liked his mom. I nodded. “I can get used to bread.”

“Good.” He was looking at me funny like he still wanted to ask me something. I had the odd feeling he wanted to keep hanging out. He didn’t say that, though. “So you guys are leaving?”

“Yeah, we’re just going to pick out a DVD before we go.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll head out then.” He got up from his chair. “I’m gonna go spend a Friday night all by myself because of you, Dover.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be sorry.” He stretched out his arm, holding a fist out for me, waiting for me to return it. I tapped it lightly, and—oh my god—I definitely blushed.

Kyle left me alone in the front of the library with Mrs. Laurie, who was smirking at me from her spot behind the checkout desk. “He’s cute,” she said with a small, eye-roll-inducing wink.

I stared at the front door Kyle had left through, letting a big, billowy, uncertain breath escape.

I nodded. “Yep.”