Bite Your Tongue

4:52 P.M.
Brian;;

“What about Christy? Do you like that name?”

“Sure,” I said unenthusiastically.

Zoe scribbled the name down on the already three-pages-long list of names she’d been adding steadily to over the past hour or so. I didn’t have the energy to tell her that it was stupid and pointless to pick out names for a baby we didn’t yet know the sex or the due date of. I personally didn’t give a shit what the baby was named—she could have named it Voldemort, for all I cared—since it didn’t matter anyway. Whatever our child was named wouldn’t change the fact that it was ours, and that from now on, I was permanently tied to Zoe in a way I’d never wanted to be tied to anyone until I was much, much older.

“Brian?”

I jumped to my feet at the sound of my mother’s voice and practically ran into the kitchen, regardless of the fact that she hadn’t specifically asked me to—I just wanted to get away from Zoe.

“Yeah?”

My mom looked surprised to see me appear so quickly, but she recovered and turned to face me, setting aside the knife she had been using to chop vegetables.

“I just wanted to know if Zoe’s going to be staying for dinner,” she said.

“Probably,” I replied irritably.

“You don’t seem happy.”

Fuck. This was why I disliked having my mother home—she was far too perceptive.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

She looked at me strangely for a couple of seconds.

“Okay…but you’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?”

“Of course.“ Not.

“All right. Well, go and ask Zoe if she’d prefer a vegetable ratatouille or potatoes au gratin as a side to go along with the chicken for dinner.”

I nodded, pretending to know what both of those dishes were, and returned to the living room. Zoe had, thankfully, abandoned the baby-name-picking for the moment, and had her eyes glued to an episode of MTV’s Engaged & Underage. I sincerely hoped that she wasn’t getting any ideas.

“My mom wants to know what you want with dinner.” I sat down next to her. “Some vegetable thing or some potato thing,” I added.

“Your mom is so nice!” Zoe said.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“I’ll have the veggie thing,” she decided. “I don’t want to gain any more weight than I have to.”

I shouted Zoe’s preference to my mom, and as I was turning back to Zoe, movement outside the window caught my eye. I watched, feeling the hole in my heart widen sizably, while Korinne and her mom walked towards the car in their driveway. They got into the vehicle and drove off, and I found myself wishing I was in the car with them. Anything to be near Korinne. Because right now, sitting here with Zoe—this was pure hell.

+++

Korinne;;

I tried not to glance at Brian’s house as we drove by it, but that was impossible. I couldn’t help wondering if he was home, and if he was home, what he was doing, and if he was thinking about me…which he shouldn’t and wouldn’t have been doing anyway. I mentally slapped myself and tore my eyes away from his house, focusing them instead on the radio. I rolled my eyes at my mother’s choice of music.

“So, do you have any idea what this is about?” she asked.

“Nope.”

We were on our way to the school, which felt strange, since it was nearing dinnertime. Apparently, the principal had gotten in touch with her earlier in the week and requested that both of us come into his office for a little chat. I had no clue what that meant, but if ‘come in for a chat’ was code for ‘come in so we can talk about your total academic failure and subsequent expulsion’, then I was screwed. I didn’t think I had done anything wrong—my grades were perfect; probably better than they ever had been, due to me throwing myself into my schoolwork over the past few weeks in order to avoid thinking about Brian. And as far as I knew, I hadn’t broken any major school rules lately. So I couldn’t think of any reason why the principal wanted to see me.

We reached our destination a few minutes later, and my mom shut the car door with a bit more force than was necessary—I suspected that she was a bit annoyed to be unable to work at the moment—as she got out of the car. I followed her, a bout of nervousness finally hitting me as we approached the building’s front door. The school was oddly quiet and empty, and I had a feeling that it probably would have been rather creepy if the lights hadn’t been on.

The front office, however, was warm and busy, I discovered as we walked into the large room. A long desk ran from one side of the room to the other, with a small space allowing teachers and other administrators to access the many rooms beyond the desk. The person behind the desk—a woman with dull ginger hair piled in a knot on the top of her head and a please-kill-me-now expression on her face—peeked out from behind her computer and looked at us blankly.

“Can I help you?” she asked, looking so bored that I expected her to fall to the ground, asleep.

“Yes; we’re here to see Mr. Altman,” my mom replied.

The woman pressed a button on her keyboard and yawned. “He’s in his office. Straight back; first door on the left.”

“Thank you.”

My mom glanced over her shoulder at me to make sure I was still there before taking off in the direction the woman had pointed out. The clacking sound her heels made on the tiled floor distracted me and helped me keep bad thoughts away. I really wished the principal had told us beforehand why we were here—that way, I wouldn’t be freaking the hell out like I currently was.

Mr. Altman opened the door before my mom had chance to knock, and I got my first good look at him, since I’d never met him, not even when we first moved here. He didn’t look like most principals on TV—he wasn’t pudgy or balding. Instead, he was tall and thin, built like a string bean. He had a full head of dark brown hair and a rather comforting, warm smile.

“Hello,” he said. “Please come in.”

He moved aside, allowing us to walk into his office, and I was surprised by how welcoming and cheerful it was. The walls were a sunny yellow, the carpet was a deep burgundy color, and the desk seemed fitted perfectly to the room’s dimensions and rested in a corner without overwhelming anything.

“Have a seat,” Mr. Altman directed. We did as were told, and I held back an eye roll as my mom glanced at her watch.

“I’m sure you’re probably wondering why on earth you’re here,” he began. “So I’ll cut to the chase and save you the nervous panic.” He turned to me. “Korinne, you’ve shown an outstanding increase in your academic capabilities since you first day here.”

“I have?”

“Yes. So great is this increase that we’re willing to let yet move up a grade, since your academics are exceeding the requirements for your grade level.”

My mouth fell open slightly. Is he serious!?

A loud, yet somehow dignified squeal came from my mom.

“Oh, Korinne, I’m so proud of you!” she exclaimed. “So, Mr. Altman, does this mean she’ll be a junior in the fall?”

“If she accepts our offer, then yes.” He turned to me. “And don’t worry, Korinne, we’re offering the same opportunity to several other freshman as well, so you won’t be alone. Your guidance counselor will be able to talk you through every step of the process and help to ease the transition.”

“Wow.”

I tried to imagine myself skipping a grade and couldn’t. I knew I wasn’t a complete idiot, but school had never been easy for me. I worked hard for the grades I received, and I’d always thought that only the naturally smart kids were able to finish high school early—I mean, you never saw any freaky genius kids in school for longer than they really had to be. I certainly wasn’t as smart as any of them. But…if the chance was here, staring me in the face…why shouldn’t I take it?

“Well…okay,” I said. “What do I have to do?”

Mr. Altman smiled and reached for the packet of papers on his desk.

+++

8: 17 P.M.
Brian;;

“DUDE!”

I jumped, letting the remote control in my hands fly across the room as I looked for the source of the noise. I didn’t have to look far, however, for a second later; Zacky appeared in front of me. He was practically skipping.

“Jesus, Zacky. What happened?”

“Only the best thing to happen, like, ever!”

I looked at him expectantly.

“Oh. Right. Well, do you remember that party a month or two ago? The one Jimmy threw when his parents were out of town?”

“How could I not remember that?” Korinne had almost been date-raped at that party, and I was almost positive Zoe had been behind it. I couldn’t even think about that night without getting angry.

“Apparently, one of the guys who works at a local record company was there, and he heard us play, and we impressed him,” Zacky said.

“Holy--”

“And he wants us to meet up with him soon to talk about possibly recording a demo CD once school lets out.”

“Holy fuck!”

“I know!” Zacky looked like he was about to jump up in the air and click his heels.

“Have you told the rest of the guys?”

“Not yet.”

“What are you waiting for?!”

Mere minutes later we had migrated to Zacky’s house to meet Matt, Jimmy, and Johnny for celebratory drinks and food. I was glad that Zoe had gone home after dinner, because otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to go out at all. And for the first time in a while, I let myself relax and enjoy life with my friends as all of the stress and drama I’d been dealing with lately was temporarily washed away.