Trust

“I hate, hate, hate spring,” Dawn grumbled as she and Anette walked through the front door of the high school one April morning.

“Why? I love it.”

“It’s so muddy and rainy and damp.”

“Yeah… but the snow’s gone and it’s getting warmer and everything starts growing again,” Anette reasoned.

“Not everyone can have a sunny disposition.”

“And no everyone has to be a stormy rain cloud.”

“Ha ha Anette. See you in Chemistry,” Dawn said, and they parted ways, she heading for Photography and Anette, for Trigonometry.

Trig was difficult as always, and Anette did her work slowly and carefully. She spent half the time biting her lip slightly, trying to pick out the information she needed to solve the word problems. Anette left frustrated and with only half the problems done. She had to hurry to English, which was all the way across the school. She spun the dial on her locker, agitated. It took her four tries to get it open and now she was running late.

WHAM!

A short, probably Freshman girl ran into Anette, scattering her books and papers all over the floor. The girl ran off and left Anette to clean up. Pressing her lips together firmly, she began to clean up the mess.

Suddenly, a book was pushed under her nose. Anette’s eyes trailed up to see Chase Skyridge crouching next to her, his sandy blonde hair a meticulous mess.

“Thank you,” Anette said, accepting the book and shoving it into her locker.

“No problem Anette, let me help you with this stuff.”

“It’s fine, I’ve got it.”

But Chase still helped her clean up. By the time Anette had everything sorted, they were the only ones left in the hallway.

“Thanks, Chase,” Anette said as she shut the locker.

“No problem. Where are you going?”

“English, you?”

“Uh… nowhere. I have a free period,” Chase shrugged.

“Lucky you.”

“I’ll walk you to English.” It wasn’t a request or a suggestion; it was a statement.

“Okay,” Anette said, and they began the quiet, almost shameful walk to the English hall. He left her at her classroom door with a polite, “See you in history,” and Anette entered ten minutes late.

The class was doing silent reading, so Anette slipped in, explained the situation to her teacher, and sat down next to Rachel, trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. Anette pulled out her book and tried to read, but despite all her efforts of concentration, she could only read a few pages.

-

After English was Yoga, something Anette was very thankful for, and then lunch. Mikey found Anette in the lunch line and they got sandwiches together.

“Where do you want to eat today?” Anette asked as she paid and they left the cafeteria.

“The staircase. I gotta talk to you about something,” he muttered. Anette bit her lip slightly, but decided not to question him. They walked down several hallways and eventually came to a deserted back staircase that probably only a handful of students knew about. They sat down on the wide middle platform and unwrapped their sandwiches. They ate in silence, Anette waiting for Mikey to speak.

“So… Annie. Did you notice how odd Gerard was acting when he visited a few weeks ago?”

Anette frowned. “Yeah, now that I think about it. He was acting kind of weird.”

“Well, he—Annie, you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“Okay.”

Mikey set his half-eaten sandwich down and stared at it for a few moments before going on. “So, Gee’s always been kind of odd, but a bit after Christmas Mom made him go the doctor and it turns out he’s go Borderline Personality Disorder.”

“And um, what’s that?”

“It’s a mental disorder that, well, kinda makes him crazy. He’ll have really intense mood swings, especially when he’s dealing with other people. We’re pretty sure it’s why he’s had depression and his, um, drinking… binges.” Mikey shifted uncomfortably. “But he was taking pills for it.”

“Was?” Anette asked, pale eyebrows furrowing together.

“Yeah, well, they were helping to stabilize his mood, and he assumed he was getting better, so he… stopped.”

“He stopped?”

“Annie, you can’t tell anyone,” Mikey said in a slight panic. “Mom will pull him out of school and he’ll go to a crazy house.”

“But Mikey, what if he hurts someone?”

“He won’t hurt anyone, you know Gee. He couldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Mikey didn’t respond. Finally, Anette sighed. “Why did you even tell me, of all people?”

“Because I—I don’t know,” he finally replied, wadding his trash and running his hands through his gelled hair. “I don’t know.”

Anette pressed her lips together in thought, trying to come up with a good response, but she failed. She just ate the rest of her sandwich and pulled out her script to look it over again for the hundredth time.

“How’s Twelfth Night going?” Mikey asked, nodding to the script.

“Good, but stressful. We open next week and stupid Monica doesn’t have all her lines memorized.”

“You should have been Viola, not her.”

“But Monica and John look more alike than he and I do. Plus I really didn’t want to cut off all my hair just before prom, and Olivia’s character is fun.”

“We’re still going together, right?”

“To prom? Yeah, I’ve turned down everyone but you.”

“Good.”

At the end of the lunch hour, the two collected their bags and headed for US History. Mikey groaned as they took their usual seats near the middle of the classroom.

“Dammit, I hate having subs.”

“It’ll be fine Mikey, we’ll probably just do book work,” Anette said, but her looked a bit nervous herself.

“Exactly.”

Soon, the class started with roll call and then the sub stood at the front of the room. “Hello class, I’m your sub today, Mrs. Johnson. Mr. Logan is out sick today, but he left question worksheets on chapter sixteen. They’re to be turned in at the end of the period and I expect there to be no talking.” Mrs. Johnson glared out over the class, daring them to groan in disappointment. No one did. She handed out the worksheets, everyone pulled out their heavy textbooks and pencils, and they got to work.

Anette stared at the first page of chapter sixteen and honestly tried to read it for a few minutes before closing her eyes. The words were spinning and floating off the page, making her sick. Her dyslexia hadn’t been so bad this morning in English, but then, she hadn’t been quite as stressed and the words were only scrambling themselves then. Irritated, Anette opened her eyes and tried to slowly read the first sentence. But the words swam again, and Anette really didn’t want to keep trying.

“Mikey?” she asked in the softest voice she could manage. “Can you read this to me? The words are swimming again.”

Mikey flipped back to the beginning of the chapter and started reading. “The twentieth century opened in America with—”

“Michael, is it?”

The entire class looked up from their books to see Mrs. Johnson glaring at Mikey, though it seemed to Anette that maybe that’s how the sub’s face was stuck.

“What?” Mikey asked blankly.

“I thought I specifically instructed everyone to do their work silently.”

“But I’m helping Anette.”

“Anette can do her work on her own.”

“You don’t get it, Anette can’t read—”

“I don’t care. That’s her problem and not yours.”

Mikey and Mrs. Johnson were caught up in an intense staring contest.

Anette blushed. “Mikey, drop it, it’s fine.”

“No. Mr. Logan lets me read to her when she can’t.”

“Mr. Logan isn’t in charge today, I am.”

“You and your rules can suck it, she has fucking dyslexia.”

Anette’s eyes grew wide. Mikey had never spoken to a sub or even a teacher like that before. The whole class held its breath as they waited for Mrs. Johnson’s response.

“Go down to the office, Michael. I will call down there in five minutes and if you’re not there, you will be very sorry indeed.”

Gritting his teeth, Mikey shoved his book in his backpack, threw the bag over his shoulder, and stomped out of the room. Biting her lip slightly, Anette sunk down into her seat and went back to her book, guilt coursing through her. She could feel the eyes of several of her classmates (including Chase) watching her, so she did her best to try and go back to reading.

Anette struggled through the first six pages of the chapter, growing sicker and more stressed by the minute. Her worksheet lay forgotten under her textbook as she forced herself to read on, too scared to ask Mrs. Johnson if she could go down to the nurse.

It was now almost fifteen minutes until the end of class. As Anette started down yet another long, moving paragraph, her stomach twisted. Feeling herself begin to retch, Anette sprung out of her seat and sprinted out of the room and down the hallway. She lost her shoes along the way, and had just barely slid into a trashcan when she vomited. She held herself up against the rim of the trashcan, knees shaking. She wiped her mouth, wishing she had some gum to wash away the awful taste in her mouth.

‘Well, as Mikey would say, fuck that class,’ Anette thought bitterly, and after collecting her shoes, she walked instead down to the nurse’s office.

Luckily, the nurse was on Anette’s side. She let Anette lay down, gave her a mint, madder her some Alka-Seltzer, and, most importantly, didn’t make her go back to class.

“You just stay right here until you feel better, alright honey?”

“Okay. Thank you,” Anette mumbled in response.

Soon enough, the bell rang and Anette groaned. She didn’t want to go get her stuff and wasn’t sure if she could get back up to her history classroom, but she needed to. She had left her purse up there.

‘I’ll go back halfway through my free period,’ Anette thought, shutting her eyes.

It seemed like just moments later that she heard, “Is Anette Baker here? I have her backpack.”

“Well, aren’t you a sweet boy? She’s in the back, but be quiet.”

Anette opened one eye to see Chase approaching her bed, carrying Anette’s backpack full of work and her purse.

“Are you okay, Anette?” Chase asked as he set her bags down next to the bed.

“Better,” she mumbled in response. “Aren’t you missing class?”

“Tch, like it matters if I’m late to gym.” Chase stood there for a few more moments before speaking again. “She was so pissed. The sub.”

“I imagine she was.”

“That was complete bullshit though, with Way. Everyone know…” He trailed off and looked at the wall.

“That I can’t read?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Yeah, but obviously that’s no excuse,” Anette said, slightly bitter.

“Anette?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna go to the movies with me this weekend?” Chase asked, looking back at her.

“I—what?” Anette asked, caught completely off guard.

“You and me. Movies. This weekend. On a date.”

“Oh.” Anette blushed. “Sure, I guess.”

“Cool. Well, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

“Bye.”

And he left, leaving Anette queasy, blushing, and slightly confused.

-

Anette didn’t see Mikey until after school. She left her acting class, bag-less, to go outside and find him. He was standing in a group with Frank, Charlotte, and two other boys Anette knew where named Billie and Pete.

As she approached, Frank said, “Guys, let’s go have a smoke,” and everyone but Mikey left for the smoker’s hill.

When they were out of earshot, Anette asked, “Are you in trouble?”

“I have detention for a week, maybe ISS, and they called my mom. She’s pissed.”

“I’m so sorry Mikey—”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I got you in trouble.”

“I don’t care.”

He started to walk away, but Anette grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Annie, I have to go.”

“I know.” She kissed is slightly rough jaw. “Thank you.”

Mikey turned pink but broke her grip. “Right, yeah,” he mumbled, and left for his mom’s waiting car.

Anette sighed and started back to the front doors. Rehearsal started soon, and she needed to change still.

“Hey Anette, do you need a ride?”

Chase stood near her, holding up his car keys.

“Oh no, thanks Chase, but I have rehearsal until six tonight.”

“For the play?”

“Yeah.”

“What show is it?”

“Twelfth Night.”

“And who are you again?”

“Olivia.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Well, I’ll uh, see you tomorrow, right?”

“Right.”

“Bye.”

“Bye Chase.”