Verse Read Free Page A

paper.
     
    Erwin
     
    That’s one.

Chapter 8
     
    a² + b² = c²
     
    What possible use could this ever have in my life?
    I enter the variables into the equation and write down my answer.
    Seventeen more to go.
    A gust of wind ruffles my paper and gives me goose bumps and I get a whiff of mentholated smoke.
    “What are you doing?” Sydney says, taking a seat across the picnic table from me.
    “Algebra,” I say.
    He takes a drag and blows it directly in my face, “You only got twenty minutes left, better get moving.”
    I say, “It’s not due today, I already had class.”
    “What?”
    “I did yesterday’s homework yesterday.”
    He shakes his head. “You’re doing homework that was assigned today, during your free period?”
    I shrug.
    “When’s it due?”
    “Friday.”
    “Friday. Friday. You’re doing homework that’s due in,” he leaves his cigarette dangling in his mouth and counts on his fingers, “Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, three days. During lunch. The day it was assigned.”
    I nod.
    “Damn, man,” sipping his soda.
    I finish another problem. Sixteen to go.
    He chain lights another cigarette and says, “Why do you do that? Who are you trying to impress?”
    “I just want to finish my homework?”
    “Yeah, but why now?”
    “If I get it done early, I won’t have to do it later?”
    “Ah, time management, very important.”
    I put my pencil down and look at him and he looks away.
    He came to talk to me, why?
    Actually, that’s promising.
    He looks back at me and I look down at my paper.
    I guess he doesn’t have any friends either.
    But what do I say?
    I pick up my pencil.
    No, don’t start working again, say something.
    I tap my pencil against the table.
    I don’t know.
    I can’t think of anything.
    I say, “Did your dad say anything about me after the conference?”
    “No. You got a single mom, right?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Has he called her?”
    “You mean again? No.”
    “Watch out.”
    I grunt.
    He says, “Well, aren’t you used to it by now?”
    “Used to what?”
    “New boyfriends.”
    I shrug.
    “She’s been single for how long?”
    “My whole life.”
    “How many boyfriends has she had?”
    “None.”
    “None?”
    “None.”
    “My dad’s had lots of girlfriends.”
    “Great.”
    He says, “What about your dad?”
    “What about your mom?”
    “I killed her. In childbirth.”
    “Oh.”
    He says, “What about your dad?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “What do you mean you don’t know?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “You never met him?”
    “No.”
    “Is he dead?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Did you ask her?”
    “Of course I asked her, she wouldn’t tell me.”
    “Well what did she say?”
    “Nothing, she just gets mad at me.”
    “Wow. I guess that makes sense. Is that why you said you’re the messiah? God’s your father, right?”
    “That’s not why I said it.”
    “Lot’s of people don’t know who their dads are, you know.”
    “That’s not why.”
    “Sure.”
    I start the next problem.
    He finishes his cigarette and stubs it out next to the other one on the table and goes back inside.
    I finish, pack up my things up, and pick up his butts and put them in the trash and go inside.

Chapter 9
     
    The lunch lady hands the guy in front of me a plate and he sets it on his tray and moves forward. I move up and look at the options. Sandwiches, meat loaf, pasta with zucchini, mashed potatoes, and collard greens. “Turkey sandwich,” I say, and she hands me one from the stack. I set it on my tray and get some chips and some soda and head into the dining area.
    I look around. No empty tables. Sydney and Erwin aren’t here.
    That girl from the computer lab is at a table laughing with some girls and guys I don’t know.
    I go to the table closest to me and grab a napkin out of the dispenser and head to the conveyor belt.
    I wrap my sandwich in the napkin and pick it up along with my chips and put my tray on the belt. I can’t take my soda, but