Wake
Page 11“It’s not that kind.”
“Go ahead, then.”
“Are you getting a lot of strange looks today, by any chance?”
He pulls his notebook out of his backpack, takes off his outer button-down shirt, leaving on a loose, white T-shirt. He folds the button-down haphazardly, sets it on top of his backpack, scoots his chair back, and lays his head on the shirt. His newly muscular arms reach around this makeshift pillow.
“I hadn’t noticed,” he says. He takes off his glasses and sets them off to the side. Janie nods thoughtfully. “I see. So…you don’t know what classes you have, you don’t know your GPA, you don’t notice all the girls drooling over your new look—”
“That’s bullshit,” he says, closing his eyes.
“So what do you pay attention to?”
He opens his eyes. Lifts his head from his pillow. He looks at Janie for a long time. His eyes are silky brown. She’s never noticed them before.
For a split second, Janie thinks she sees something in them, but then it’s gone.
“Pfft. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he says.
Janie flashes a crooked smile, shrugs, and shakes her head slightly, feeling warm. “Try me.”
Cabel raises a skeptical eyebrow.
“You know…sometime,” she says finally. She picks up his shirt and refolds it so the buttons turn in. “So you don’t get a button impression on your face,” she says.
“Thank you,” he says. His eyes don’t leave hers. He’s searching them. His brow furrows. Janie clears her throat lightly. “So, uh, shall I break the news to Carrie that you’re not a new guy?”
“Half the girls in the school think you’re a new student. Cabel, come on. You look a lot different from last year….”
The words trail off her tongue and they sound wrong.
He gives her a confused look.
“What did you call me?”
Janie’s stomach lurches. “Um, Cabel?”
He isn’t smiling. “Who do you think I am?”
Maybe she’s in somebody’s weird dream and she doesn’t know it.
She panics.
“Oh, God, no,” she whispers. She stands up abruptly and tries to get past him. He catches her arm.
“Whoa, time out,” he says. “Sit.”
Tears pool in Janie’s eyes. She covers her mouth.
“Jesus, Janie. I’m just playing with your mind a little. I’m sorry. Hey,” he says. He keeps hold of her wrist, lightly.
She feels like a fool.
Janie can’t look at him. She sees Carrie, half-standing, peering over the bookshelves, a concerned look on her face. Janie waves her away. Carrie sits down.
“Janie.”
“What, already,” she says, growing hot. “And will you please let go of me before I call security?”
He drops her wrist like a baked potato.
His eyes widen.
“Forget it.” He sighs. “I’m an asshole.” He looks away.
Janie walks back to her table and sits down miserably.
“What was that?” Carrie hisses.
Janie looks at her and summons a calm smile. She shakes her head. “Nothing. The new guy just told me…that…” She stalls, pretending to search for a pen. “That, uh, I’m doing the advance math equations completely wrong. I…you know me. I hate to be wrong. Math’s my best subject, you know.” She pulls out a sheet of paper and opens her math book. “Now I’ve got to start all over.”
“Sheesh, Janie. You looked like he just threatened to kill you or something.”
Janie laughs. “As if.”
1:30 p.m.
Cabel tries to catch Janie’s eye in government class. She ignores him. 2:20 p.m.
Janie commits the most egregious foul Fieldridge High School has ever seen. When he is able, the new guy stands up and insists it was his fault.
The P.E. staff confer, and decide girls versus guys is not a good idea for contact sports. Coach Crater gives Janie a hard look. She returns it, with interest.
2:45 p.m.
Janie dries off hurriedly after her shower and slips into her scrubs for work. The bell rings. She takes her stuff and jumps in her car so she’s not late for work.
8:01 p.m.
Life is blissfully calm at Heather Home tonight. Janie finishes her paperwork and her other duties on the floor early, so she goes to see Miss Stubin. She shuffles her feet and clears her throat so Miss Stubin knows Janie is there.
“It’s me, Janie. Are you up for a few chapters of Jane Eyre?” Janie asks. Miss Stubin smiles warmly and turns her face toward Janie’s voice. “I’d love it, if you have the time.”
Janie pulls the visitor chair closer to the bed and begins where they left off last time. She doesn’t notice when Miss Stubin drifts off to sleep.
8:24 p.m.
Janie is standing on a street called Center in a small town. Everything is in black and white, like an old movie. Nearby, a couple strolls arm and arm, window-shopping. Janie follows them. The store windows are filled with simplicity. Saws and hammers. Yarn and material. Baking sheets and metal tins. Dry goods. The couple stops at the corner, and Janie can see the young woman has been crying. The young man is wearing a military uniform.