The Education Of Hailey Kendrick Part 2

"Oh my G.o.d. I am so sorry." She wiped at the polish, smearing it over a larger area.

I yanked my arm back. This was my mom's sweatshirt. The one she wore when she went to Yale. It was one of the only things of hers that I had with me at school. Tears rushed into my eyes. It was ruined.

"I'm such a spaz. I'll buy you a new shirt." The freshman girl looked like she was ready to start crying too. The other girls had taken a slight step away from her in order to distance themselves from her certain social suicide. I swallowed the tight knot in my throat. She hadn't meant to do anything. It was my own fault. I shouldn't have worn the shirt if I didn't want anything to ever happen to it.

"It's okay," I managed to whisper. I waved her hands away before she could smear the polish further. "I really have to get going." I hustled back down the hall to my room.

I shut my door behind me and slid down to the floor. I couldn't believe that had happened. I pulled off the sweatshirt and looked at the stain. I buried my face into the shirt. I bet my mom would have known how to get nail polish out in the wash. Today was turning into a c.r.a.ppy day. I would have gladly traded the Bette Davis dress to have my mom's faded sweatshirt back without a big blob of Candy Apple Red Kiss on it.

I looked over at the clock. It was getting late. I knew I could either lie on the floor and feel sorry for myself or I could get working on the stupid time line so I could get at least a few hours of sleep. I fired up my computer, and there was the ping ping indicating new mail. It was from my dad. I clicked on it with a smile; his e-mails always put me in a good mood. But as soon as I read the first few lines, my stomach clenched tight. indicating new mail. It was from my dad. I clicked on it with a smile; his e-mails always put me in a good mood. But as soon as I read the first few lines, my stomach clenched tight.

Hailey-I hope your cla.s.ses are going well. I have some bad news; there's been a change of plans. I've been asked to teach a lecture series in London. The company is going to sponsor the program, and it's an excellent public relations move. It will likely result in an increase in funding for several projects. This means someone else will be heading up the training project in Tahoe this summer.I hate to cancel our plans, but I know you'll understand. I've talked to your grandparents, and they would love to have you again. I called in a favor and was able to get you a job in the Munson Hospital Lab up there. Heck, you'll get to spend your whole summer at the beach. You won't even notice I'm not there. My lectures will wrap up in August, and we can spend some time together then, and we'll pick you out whatever you like for a graduation present. About the party you planned, your grandparents can't have all your friends at the house, but you could invite a few of them. I bet they'll love the beach too! Besides, sometimes a small group can be more fun than having everyone.Love, Dad I stared at the computer screen. I hoped that if I stared long enough, the words would rearrange themselves into a different message. This couldn't be happening. He was canceling. I'd done everything I could do to be the perfect daughter, and it still didn't matter. I felt like I was going to throw up, that sour slick of spit sticking in the back of my throat. I picked my iPod up off the bed and hurled it across the room. It left a scar on the wood and made a clunk when it hit the floor. That made me feel a little bit better. I looked around for something else to destroy. I grabbed my pillow and yanked open the drawer in my desk, pulling it almost completely out. I took the scissors and stabbed them into the center of the pillow. That's what I thought of his fancy lecture series and his acting like changing my party plans was no big deal. I stabbed the pillow again. A poof of tiny white down feathers flew out, and as I pulled out the scissors, more began floating up into the air. I felt my breath coming faster.

I stood up and kicked my mom's sweatshirt out of my way so I didn't have to look at the ruined sleeve. I took my bag and turned it upside down, dumping everything onto the floor. I shoved my history book out of my way, s.n.a.t.c.hed my cell phone from the pile, and immediately called Tristan. His cell didn't pick up. He never charged the d.a.m.n thing. What was the point of having a cell phone if you didn't have it on when people needed to reach you? I was so frustrated, I wanted to scream. I scrolled through my list and stabbed a b.u.t.ton. Joel picked up on the first ring.

"Is Tristan there?"

"Hi, this is Joel. Nice talking to you. Usually when people call my phone, they're calling to talk to me."

"I need to talk to Tristan." My voice snagged on the words. Suddenly the anger was sharing s.p.a.ce with tears. I was even madder that I felt like crying.

"Hey, are you okay?" Joel's voice turned soft. "Tristan's not here."

"Where is he?" My voice came out small. "Can you get him? I really need him."

"He's in a study group down in our lounge. He's not supposed to be back until late. Do you want me to get him?"

The tears started to pour out of my eyes, laser hot as they slid down my face.

"Hailey? You still there? What's wrong?"

"I . . ." My voice trailed off. I didn't know how to explain it. How it hurt that my dad didn't want me around, and how it was even more upsetting that I'd let myself be so excited about the summer, when I should have known better. "You tell him I called?" I squeaked out.

"Yeah. I'll tell him to call you the second he walks in. Listen, you can talk to me about whatever . . ."

I clicked off the phone without even saying good-bye. My feet tapped on the floor. I couldn't just sit there. I felt like I was going to fly apart into a thousand pieces. I yanked my door open and stepped out into the hallway right into the path of our dorm matron, Ms. Estes.

"Ms. Kendrick," she said in her clipped voice.

"I have to go out for a bit."

"I'm afraid it's after eleven." She pointed to her naked wrist as if she were wearing a watch. Evesham required all students to be in their dorms from eleven p.m. to six a.m. on weeknights. No exceptions.

"I-I need to get some air." I could feel myself shaking. She stood there, unmoving. Ms. Estes had never met a rule she didn't like to enforce. I wanted to push her out of my way, but instead I stepped back into my room and slammed my door closed.

"Two demerit points, Ms. Kendrick." I heard her say through the door. Without even seeing her, I knew she was writing it down in the small Snoopy notebook she carried in her pocket, just for these occasions. I kicked the door when I was sure she was far enough down the hall not to hear. My toe gave a loud crack. I bit down to avoid yelling out. I hopped around on one foot. It felt like I had broken my big toe.

I hobbled back and forth in front of my bed, trying to shake off the pain. My phone rang, and I lunged over to grab it. Thank G.o.d, Tristan Thank G.o.d, Tristan. I looked at the display. It wasn't Tristan; it was Joel. I threw it back down onto the bed without picking up the call. It felt like I couldn't get a deep breath. I yanked open the window and took deep greedy gulps of air. I don't remember making the decision. There wasn't a go-or-don't-go pause. It's hard to know what would have happened if I had stopped to think, but I didn't. One second I was in the room, and the next I was climbing down the ivy outside the window, jumping the last few feet down to the ground. I stood outside for a beat, looking back at the warm yellow light of my room, and then I took off.

5.

The problem with running away at Evesham was that there really wasn't anywhere to go. It wasn't because the campus has a giant wall around it, though it does, but because the school is several miles outside of town. Wandering around in the woods on a dark and drizzling night didn't feel like getting away with anything. It just felt wet and cold.

I paused by the front gate, next to a giant statue of the school mascot, a knight in armor holding a sword pointing toward the sky. Everyone on campus called him the Tin Man. Evesham was named after a famous battle in England in the thirteenth century. The Evesham motto-"Loyalty, Duty, and Honor"-was inscribed in bra.s.s letters around the statue's base.

That was a laugh. Loyalty and duty. Look how far that had gotten me. I was always was the one who smoothed things over, who gave in to make things work. The school could act like loyalty and duty were virtues, but my experience had taught me that all it made you was a doormat. I bent over and picked up a clot of wet mud. I stared at the statue, almost expecting the knight to beg me to reconsider, but he just stood there with his smug unreadable expression. I pulled back and let the mud fly. It smacked him in the head with a surprisingly loud splat splat.

"Screw loyalty," I said, hurling another ball of mud. "And duty, too." I was bending over, scooping handfuls of mud, and throwing them as fast as I could at the statue. I was a lousy athlete most of the time, but rage was doing a great job of improving my aim. The mud was sliding down the side of the statue, and occasionally a ping ping would ring out as a rock hit the metal. would ring out as a rock hit the metal.

"Whoa. What did he do to you?" a voice said behind me.

I whirled around, ready to bolt. I could make out a figure in the dark but couldn't see his face clearly. He took a step forward. It was Joel.

I dropped the clot of mud in my hand. My jeans were coated in grime, and I could tell it was in my hair, too. I looked over my shoulder at the statue in case he had anything to add that might help me explain.

"I came to make sure you were okay," Joel said, his voice calm and slow as if he were speaking to someone who might snap at any moment, which, given the circ.u.mstances, was probably a good strategy. "I tried calling you back a few times, but you didn't pick up."

"I'm not okay," I said, my voice small.

He didn't say anything else. Joel crossed the few feet that separated us and pulled me into a hug, despite the fact that I was soaking wet and dirty. "It's all right. You're going to be okay, though, I promise."

I leaned into the hug, and he squeezed me tight before pulling away and plunking me down on the closest bench. I started bawling like a two-year-old and then spilled the whole story about my relationship with my dad and everything else that had happened. "I know it's no big deal. In the big scheme of things, we're talking summer plans, not starving children or a collapsing world economy or anything." I shrugged, hoping to give the impression that I was working myself closer to sanity and off the emotional edge.

"It seems like a big deal to me. He gave you his word. He made a promise."

"But this conference is a big deal. He'll have a chance to pull in all sorts of funding."

"But he had you make all these plans and invite all these people over for a summer blowout, only to leave you in a lurch. Besides, this is still his last chance to have time with you before you go off to college."

"Yeah, but I'm not going to school in Borneo or anything. I could still come home during the summers." I wiped my nose with my sleeve.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" Joel asked. I jumped a bit at the unexpected question. He laughed at my expression. "You're busted, Kendrick. You're ticked. It's fine to be p.i.s.sed at your dad. Anger isn't a bad thing."

"I'm not mad. I'm disappointed," I clarified.

Joel laughed harder. "Disappointed, huh? Do you always hurl things at statues when you're disappointed?"

I looked at my hands. They were covered in mud, and I had broken two fingernails. Busted. I was mad. In fact, it was possible I had left mad behind, whipped through angry, and was plunk in the middle of really p.i.s.sed off. I had been disappointed disappointed that my dad seemed fine with me living far away at boarding school. I felt that my dad seemed fine with me living far away at boarding school. I felt let down let down that when I got straight A's, won state championships in debate, and made student government, all he did was pat me absently on the head like a good puppy who had managed to bring back a stick without peeing on the rug. I was that when I got straight A's, won state championships in debate, and made student government, all he did was pat me absently on the head like a good puppy who had managed to bring back a stick without peeing on the rug. I was b.u.mmed b.u.mmed that my dad was so disinterested in my life that he could barely remember the names of my friends when he did see me, but this was a whole new level of ticked off. I felt my eyes fill up with tears again. that my dad was so disinterested in my life that he could barely remember the names of my friends when he did see me, but this was a whole new level of ticked off. I felt my eyes fill up with tears again.

"He's my dad, and he acts like he wants to forget I even exist."

"No one could forget you." Joel tipped my chin up so we were looking eye to eye. "You're the kind of person that makes an impression."

"What kind of impression? Sometimes I feel like I'm not even being me. That everything is this big show. The amazing Hailey Kendrick. The worst part is, I'm trying to impress someone who isn't even paying attention, and I don't even know who I really am. I wander around here like I'm starring in a reality show, always being nice and making sure my hair is perfect. I'm the Polly Perfect Popular girl."

"I can understand that." He caught my raised eyebrow. "You think that this is all there is to me? Good guy Joel? He's such a great sport, smart. Heck, he even dresses well. You can hardly tell he's the scholarship kid."

My face flushed red. Evesham is ridiculously expensive, and the school board funds a few scholarships for kids who come from underprivileged families. Most of the scholarship kids end up dropping out; they don't fit in. It isn't that people try to be sn.o.bby, at least most people. It's just hard to know what to talk about with them. You can't really bring up your holiday plans to the south of France when you know that their parents might be on welfare. It doesn't seem right. All the Evesham students might wear the same uniforms, but the scholarship kids never have designer handbags and shoes that were custom made in Italy. The kids who don't drop out tend to be loners. They don't even seem to want to hang out with each other. It's as if they don't want to create too large a target.

It was easy to forget Joel was there on scholarship. He wasn't anything like the others. He was always in the middle of everything, laughing and cracking jokes. He never seemed bitter, or like he resented what everyone else had.

"I never think of you as the scholarship kid," I said.

"My problem is that I can't get you to think of me at all," Joel said with an exaggerated wink, and he dodged when I tried to shove him in the side with my elbow. "Look, I know I'm lucky to be here at all. If you saw the public school where I grew up, you would think you were in Beirut. They have metal detectors at the door, the ceiling is always leaking-probably asbestos-and most of the teachers are only there because they couldn't get a job at any decent school. Going here is a huge opportunity, and I get that. It's going to mean getting into a good college and doing something with my life. People can say all they want that this is the land of opportunity, but the truth is, if you don't get a decent education, you're screwed."

"Is this going to be one of your policy points when you're president?"

"Better believe it. I'm going to make so many changes that they're going to have to find s.p.a.ce on Mount Rushmore to carve my face in next to Lincoln and Washington."

"Guess your ego isn't on scholarship, huh?"

"I figure if I act like I'm so great, the rest of you will just a.s.sume it's the truth."

"It seems to be working pretty well so far."

"Yeah, but people around here are pretty easy to fool. Sheep, most of them. Present company excluded, of course."

"Of course."

"I don't mind appreciating how lucky I am to be here," he said, "but I do hate having to be so d.a.m.n grateful all the time. It's like anything I do has to come with a caveat, that I never would have been able to do it without the kind contributions of the alumni foundation. I can't even own my own success, you know? It's like I have to share it with everyone."

I thought about the alumni banquet Evesham holds every year at homecoming. There's always a big call for donations, and last year, Joel was one of the people who had to get up and talk about how much he'd benefited from his Evesham experience. It had never occurred to me how that might have made him feel.

I touched his shoulder. "I think you're pretty amazing, with or without the scholarship," I said. "In fact, I'm counting on you being elected president someday so I can get invited to all those sw.a.n.ky White House parties."

"Actually, I was thinking of making you my vice president. Lots of perks. You get your own office in the White House and everything. A jet, too. Not Air Force One, but still better than flying coach."

"The vice presidency isn't really my thing. I don't mind it on student council, but I can't see me doing it long term. I might take an amba.s.sadorship, though. Someplace good, like France or England. I don't want to be stuck in some third world country and end up with malaria."

"I would feel terrible if you caught some intestinal parasite on our nation's behalf. I think we should plan to go with London, since you don't speak French."

"Thanks. Not just for the future amba.s.sadorship, but for sneaking out to find me. I feel better," I said, tucking a clump of my muddy hair behind one ear. I was still mad at my dad, but I didn't feel like I was going to fly into a thousand pieces anymore.

"This is all it takes to make you feel better?" Joel shook his head sadly, as if he couldn't believe me. "I think you should raise the bar."

"I don't know. Don't forget, I've pretty well beat up our buddy here." I pointed to the statue of the knight. "I would say I've struck a blow against duty and feeling fake."

Joel's smile turned up on one side, just the tiniest bit evil. "What do you say we strike a real blow?"

6.

"See if you can wrap my sweatshirt around his head. Then push from up there while I pull," Joel called up to me. He was coated in mud now too. "Try to get as much leverage as you can."

We were trying to remove the mascot's head, but it was clear that this was one knight who didn't intend to be decapitated. I didn't have any artistic talent, so until that moment I'd had no appreciation for how much effort must go into making a statue. However they'd attached the head, it had clearly been done with more than a mere dollop of Elmer's glue. Whoever made these things made them to last. Our plan was to take his head off and mount it on the front gate of Evesham, but I was getting close to giving up.

I was straddling the knight's upraised arm a good six feet off the ground. I scootched forward so that I could take the sweatshirt from Joel without falling off. I wrapped it around the back of the knight's head. Joel grabbed a hold of the arms of the shirt and pulled down while I tried to push. It didn't feel as if the head was even budging. I didn't think this plan would work. Given that our earlier attempt, whacking his head with a large stick, hadn't seemed to do the trick, I didn't think we had the brute strength to just rip it off. The only impact we seemed to have made all night was a slight dent in his chin, but that might have been there before we'd started.

I leaned back against the upraised part of the knight's arm and tried to kick at his head. There was a loud crack crack, and the arm I was sitting on snapped off. It felt like I hung in the air for a split second, like the coyote in the Road Runner cartoons when he would run off a cliff. I let out a squeak, and then I fell.

Before I could hit the ground, Joel was under me, catching me with a loud "Oomph." He staggered under my sudden weight, but hung on, holding me as if he were the groom and we were headed over the threshold. We both looked up at the statue. He still had his head, but his arm had sheared right off. It was lying on the ground, the tip of the sword snapped clean off. Our eyes met, and we both started laughing.

I slipped down so that I was standing, but Joel still had his arms around me, holding me up. I was laughing so hard that my eyes were watering.

"I can't believe we did that," I said, slightly out of breath.

"I can't believe I'm going to do this."

I was about to ask what he meant, when he kissed me. He pulled me even closer, and I could feel the heat of him through our wet clothes. It was like he was on fire. His hands were on either side of my face. I wasn't aware of the knight, the rain, or the mud anymore. Joel was consuming every sense I had. His heat, the smell of his skin, the taste of his mouth, and the look in his eyes. It was as if the entire universe had shrunk down to the s.p.a.ce that contained us. We were a black hole pulling everything in. I wound my hands in his hair and pulled him even closer, our bodies locking together like perfectly fitting puzzle pieces, LEGO bricks clicking together to build something bigger and better. I felt the rain hit my skin and then sizzle off.

"Hey!" A voice yelled out. My brain snapped into place. I was kissing Joel. What was I thinking? I yanked back, breaking contact with his lips. I started to spin around, and a flashlight clicked on, blinding me. I threw my arm up in front of my face to shield my eyes.

"What the heck are you kids doing?"

I felt so guilty that it took me a second to realize that the voice in the darkness was talking about the statue and not the fact that I was kissing my boyfriend's best friend. I tried to see who was past the light. It had to be one of the Evesham security guards. I wasn't sure how I was going to explain what had happened. No one would believe that the arm had just fallen off while we happened to be there making out.

Joel grabbed me by the wrist. "Run." He took off, lightning fast, dragging me behind. It took me a few steps to get my feet moving in the right direction. Every time I nearly fell, Joel heaved me up by my arm and kept me running. It felt like my arm was going to tear out of the socket. He wove through the trees, staying away from any of the trails, to make it harder for the guard to follow. I could hear the branches snapping as we crashed through the woods. Behind us the guard stuck close at first, the beam of his flashlight bouncing as he ran. We were running faster, though, and I thought that Joel should have gone out for track. It was all I could do to keep up with him. After a few minutes the guard fell behind. Joel kept running long after I would have stopped. A thin branch smacked my face, stinging my cheek. I sucked in my breath. That hurt. My free hand reached up, and I felt blood.

Joel stopped quickly, and I ran into his back. We were both breathing fast. I bent over so I could suck a few deep breathes into my lungs. I rubbed my wrist where Joel had been holding me.

"I think we lost him," Joel panted.

"I can't believe we ran away."

"I don't think he'll be able to identify us. It's dark, and with all the mud, how much could he see? I don't think he could have gotten a really good look."

"We should get back, before anyone does a room check." I couldn't look directly into his eyes. Before he could reply, I started walking back toward the main part of campus. Joel walked behind me. He was so quiet that I had to fight the urge to turn around and make sure he was really there. That it, he, wasn't a dream. The whole situation seemed surreal-the statue, the kiss, getting caught. It was as if I had crawled through a portal and ended up in an alternate universe. I wouldn't have been surprised if a unicorn had wandered past to give us a ride.

When we got back to the dorms, we stood under my window. "If I boost you up onto my shoulders, do you think you can pull yourself in?" Joel asked, looking up to survey the height. "Otherwise we could try tapping on one of the lower windows and seeing if someone will let you in," he suggested. Both of us knew that option meant involving someone else in what had happened. I quickly decided that the last thing we needed was a witness.

"I think I can do it. Don't drop me, though, okay?"

"Look, about what happened . . . ," Joel began.

"It's no big deal. If the security guard identifies us, I'll talk to my dad. He can buy a new knight for this place."

"I didn't mean the statue." Joel looked serious; his face was set into hard lines. He wiped a smear of mud off my cheek and saw the cut. His eyebrows drew together in concern. "You're hurt."