A Fate Totally Worse Than Death Read Free

all,” Jonathan insisted. “It would be a pleasure. Believe me.” He guided Helga down the hall, which was nearly empty at lunchtime. “Why should you put up with a locker that doesn’t open half the time? And an old, beat-up one at that, way down on the bottom row, where you have to squat down or break your back.” He cast a trained eye at her long, slender legs, as if measuring her for a better fit. “Especially when I know of a vacancy.” He plucked an index card from his pocket, studied it, then smiled. “In a
much
better neighborhood.” He recognized how much he sounded like his real-estate mother. “Close to the bathrooms. And convenient to both the old and new wings.”
    â€œYou’re quite kind to do this for me,” said Helga.
    Her accent tantalized him as much as the lithe body moving beneath her airy, white dress. He looked at her face, framed by blond braids, and realized that she wore no makeup. This honesty in body and spirit, so rare among the other girls, drew him as much as her striking looks. She was a tall glass of cold spring water after years of Tiffany and Diet Coke. Gazing at her silver-blue eyes, he felt he’d do anything for her. Making a start, he pulled up at locker 422 and deftly unlocked it.
    â€œI don’t know if you had any dessert with your lunch.” With a flourish, he opened the door, releasing a bakery’s rich fragrance. The plastic shelves he’d installed within held seven slices of chocolate cake.
    â€œOh, my!” Helga laughed.
    Jonathan beamed. This morning, for Community Service, he’d driven the Meals on Wheels van, and had taken the cake from each of the lunches. Pretending puzzlement to his elderly patrons as to why there was no dessert, he’d diverted two pieces into his mouth and the rest to this locker for resale to students. He offered Helga a plate, then one of the plastic forks he’d pocketed in the school cafeteria.
    â€œI ate quite enough at lunch,” said Helga.
    Jonathan gave her the smile he held in reserve for preferred customers.
    â€œBut perhaps just a bit of cake would not hurt,” she relented.
    His heart rejoiced. Though he was slightly pudgy and shorter than she was, with every bite she’d be reminded that he had other advantages.
    They strolled slowly down the hall. Halting at locker 704, Jonathan opened it up to reveal a neatly ordered storehouse filled with pencils, paper, and other items bought at wholesale prices from his father’s stationery shop, which he sold more cheaply than the outmatched, bankruptcy-bound student store. Moving on, he paused at locker 932, then thought better of showing Helga his stock of
Playboy, Playgirl
, condoms, and other items he’d marked up quite heavily for enduring checkers’ questions and pharmacists’ stares to acquire them.
    They turned a corner and entered the high school’s new wing. “Norway …” said Jonathan. He struggled to frame an intelligent question. “I guess you get to do a lot of swimming in the Indian Ocean.”
    Helga chuckled politely. “Not really. Norway is in northern Europe, next to Sweden.”
    Jonathan chuckled along with her, making a note to refuse store credit to the lunkheaded jock he’d overheard talking in the showers about Helga, who’d said that Norway was an island off India. “Right. Anyway, I’d like to see it someday.”
    She finished her cake. “And I have always wanted to see your Yellowstone Park.”
    He nodded in approval. “In Florida.”
    Helga’s blond eyebrows curled. “Isn’t it situated in Wyoming? In the Rocky Mountains?”
    â€œI
meant
Wyoming.” Jonathan was perspiring. “Someday I’ll make it there, too, hopefully.”
    Helga cocked her head. “Do you mean that you hope to visit Yellowstone Park?”
    Jonathan looked perplexed. “Yeah.”
    â€œIsn’t