A Careless Man's Careful Daughter
Chapter Three
What was her deal? Who didn’t smile? I don’t know what to think about her. In her eyes is sadness, but out of her mouth is bitterness and hate. She sounded so jaded and jaded leads back to whatever sad event happened to make her that way.
I shake my head at myself in math class. I don’t know this girl and here I am analyzing her. She probably has every right to be the way she is. There more likely was an event. Then again, she is a teenage girl and they tend to be…catty. When she calmed down I enjoyed her company very much. When she’s not being obviously mean, she has the softest, prettiest, almost rough voice that lets me know that that cattiness is, in fact, a defense mechanism.
That kid, Devin from my first period class is sitting in front of me this time. He gives me a nod when he comes in. He sits down but in a way that says, he forgot something.
“Hey, word of advice.”
He forgot to give me advice.
“Don’t waste your time on Kendall. I mean, yeah. She talked to you today but she’s not tomorrow. I guarantee this.”
“How can you guarantee this?”
“Everybody who is anybody has tried to ask her out. And she doesn’t exactly let a brother down easy, know what I’m saying? She will tell you, flat out, as blunt as possible so you don’t miss anything and so that nothing gets misinterpreted… ‘I not interested.’”
“I just wanna be friends.”
He chuckles, “We all just wanted to be friends. The girl is bad, a ten. A sensible guy can only maintain a friendship for so long before he starts thinking about plowing her, excuse my French. And that attitude of hers only sweetens the deal. Angry girls have the best make-up-
“I get it.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Everybody who is anybody, huh?”
“Fa sho. After a while, guys stopped bothering. The most popular guy in school, myself, asked her out and she turned me down without even making eye contact. The girl is harsh but I still think she sexy. And get this, once she turned down all the most popular and good looking, no homo, eligible bachelors, people started thinking she was homo.”
I look at him skeptically.
“Don’t believe me? Ask Kelsy over there. She was the first chick to step up to bat at Kendall’s ballpark. She got it worse than most guys, at least that’s what I heard. Kendall went in on her because, apparently, she’s not gay.”
I laugh, “I can see that. From what little I know about her.”
“Yeah.”
“So what do you know about her?”
“He dad owns The CV.”
I look at him blankly.
“Right, SoHo. That’s Carter Vineyards. He’s the richest man in Napa. Her brothers graduated two years ago. They’re twins, Donny and Derrick Carter. They play football for-
“Northwestern Illinois. Are you kidding me? They’re the best quarterback wide receiver duo in college football right now. They took their team to the Rose Bowl last year and are expected to win it this year.”
“Someone’s a fan.”
“I watch with my dad. I’m big on football.”
“You play?”
“My dad wants me too but I don’t.”
“You’re crazy. You’d get exposure just for going here.”
“What else do you know about her?”
“Other than all of the above? She just wants to be left alone.”
“Devin? Is this how you plain on starting the year? Again?”
“Aw, come on, man. Get off that.”
He turns around frustrated but I’m glad we had this little conversation. I know a bit more about her now. Technically, though, it only makes me more confused. She comes from money and the way her brothers are playing, more money in the future. I can’t imagine her big brothers not treasuring their little sister, especially as fragile as she seems. They probably love her to death.
Maybe it’s not about the money. It doesn’t bring happiness. She wasn’t exactly dolled up or expensive looking. That told me she was the simple type. Also, thanks to Devin, I found out that she’s an unattainable hot commodity who wasn’t gay. So what was her deal? I realize I’m back where I started and decide to pay attention.
After class, Devin stops me.
“I forgot one more very important thing.”
“Yeah?”
“She’s a genius.”
“Hm?”
“Like, 4.0 genius. She’s at the top of our class. I even heard some teachers say that she’s at the top of the seniors’ class.”
“So why isn’t she taking AP classes?”
He shrugs, “Big fish?”
I shake my head, “You sure hear a lot.”
“That’s my job. Us kids gotta keep ourselves entertained somehow.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
In my next class I spot her sitting by the windows this time on the far right side of the class.
I slide into the seat next to her, “Hi.”
“Hey.”
“So, I heard you’re freaky smart.”
“You heard? You sound like Devin.”
When I think about it, I realize she’s right.
“Why aren’t you in AP classes?”
She tilts her chin up in thought and the light touches her eyes just right.
“Big fish?”
“Who sounds like Devin now?”
I think I see the corners of her mouth twitch just a bit in amusement.
“So?”
“I don’t know. Maybe next year. Maybe next semester.”
“Why then?”
She rubs the inside of her left arm and I wonder where she went. The look on her face is telling me she’s gone in thought. Thinking of the answer to my question, I guess. She almost looks at peace. I begin to think of her sleeping. Is she at peace then? Is she ever at peace?
“Kendall?”
She slowly turns to me.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
She’s not fine. The sadness never goes away. Well, I don’t actually know that considering I’ve only known her a day. But her sadness seems deep, out of her hands; like she’s waiting for something.
“Are you sure?”
“What’re you? My shrink? I’m fine. And why do you always stare at me like that?”
“I draw. I’m so used to staring at models or landscape to make sure I get it right, I guess it transferred over to my interactions with people. It’s mostly why I’m good at reading people, too.”
She looks uneasy as I say that last part. She doesn’t want to be read. I can’t really help it, I notice things. After awhile, the things that go together, stick together. When people breathe out slow and long, that’s a sigh of relief. I remember what goes with what like the game memory; like I know that the word irrelevant means unimportant. My brain saves all this stuff.
I’ve always known that my staring made people uncomfortable but I don’t want to make Kendall uncomfortable. I want her to feel at home with me. I want her to call me, rely on me sometimes. I want us to be friends, the kind that last.
“Kendall?”
She looks up to the front of the class.
“Yes, Mrs. Cadiz.”
“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you in my class this year.”
“I haven’t decided on when I want to take those AP classes yet.”
“Well, you know I’m here if you need to talk about it. I can help you figure it out. Or if you just want to talk. My offer from last year still stands.”
Kendall blushes, “Thank you, Mrs. Cadiz.”
So, I wasn’t the only who noticed that there was something off about this girl. Mrs. Cadiz was showing more than the average educator’s interest. She seemed to care about Kendall more than normal. And now she positioned herself in a way that had her slightly facing Kendall, as if she didn’t want to miss anything: a yawn, a daydream, a sigh, a face. She was alert to Kendall’s every move and mood. She was going to take advantage of having Kendall in her class. It would help her figure out whatever it was that she was trying to figure out.
After that class, I had my very last class with Kendall which I was pleased about. But I didn’t talk to her much from fear that she would shut down on me. I’ve been staring at her and asking her questions all day long. She’s most likely getting sick of me. Now that I think about it, for a new kid, I’ve been acting weird. Her perception of New Yorkers has been imprinted on her brain already thanks to me. I don’t mind much, though. The fact that I made an impression is good enough.
I’m loading up my back pack when she walks past me.
“Bye,” she says so softly I almost miss it.
Progress.
“Wait.”
I slam my locker shut and follow her out. She’s got her camera around her neck, ready for whatever right after school. She’s serious about her craft.
“I don’t have time to indulge in your 21 questions game.”
I don’t know what to say to that so I just laugh.
“Goodbye, Will.”
A shiver goes through my body from her voice saying my name and she’s gone, getting into the back of a black C63 AMG Benz. Before I have to time to register how cold the car is, it’s gone; around the bend, past the flagpoles and to the right, out of sight.
“There’s more to her than meets the eye.”
Now I sound like a transformer.
I shake my head at myself in math class. I don’t know this girl and here I am analyzing her. She probably has every right to be the way she is. There more likely was an event. Then again, she is a teenage girl and they tend to be…catty. When she calmed down I enjoyed her company very much. When she’s not being obviously mean, she has the softest, prettiest, almost rough voice that lets me know that that cattiness is, in fact, a defense mechanism.
That kid, Devin from my first period class is sitting in front of me this time. He gives me a nod when he comes in. He sits down but in a way that says, he forgot something.
“Hey, word of advice.”
He forgot to give me advice.
“Don’t waste your time on Kendall. I mean, yeah. She talked to you today but she’s not tomorrow. I guarantee this.”
“How can you guarantee this?”
“Everybody who is anybody has tried to ask her out. And she doesn’t exactly let a brother down easy, know what I’m saying? She will tell you, flat out, as blunt as possible so you don’t miss anything and so that nothing gets misinterpreted… ‘I not interested.’”
“I just wanna be friends.”
He chuckles, “We all just wanted to be friends. The girl is bad, a ten. A sensible guy can only maintain a friendship for so long before he starts thinking about plowing her, excuse my French. And that attitude of hers only sweetens the deal. Angry girls have the best make-up-
“I get it.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Everybody who is anybody, huh?”
“Fa sho. After a while, guys stopped bothering. The most popular guy in school, myself, asked her out and she turned me down without even making eye contact. The girl is harsh but I still think she sexy. And get this, once she turned down all the most popular and good looking, no homo, eligible bachelors, people started thinking she was homo.”
I look at him skeptically.
“Don’t believe me? Ask Kelsy over there. She was the first chick to step up to bat at Kendall’s ballpark. She got it worse than most guys, at least that’s what I heard. Kendall went in on her because, apparently, she’s not gay.”
I laugh, “I can see that. From what little I know about her.”
“Yeah.”
“So what do you know about her?”
“He dad owns The CV.”
I look at him blankly.
“Right, SoHo. That’s Carter Vineyards. He’s the richest man in Napa. Her brothers graduated two years ago. They’re twins, Donny and Derrick Carter. They play football for-
“Northwestern Illinois. Are you kidding me? They’re the best quarterback wide receiver duo in college football right now. They took their team to the Rose Bowl last year and are expected to win it this year.”
“Someone’s a fan.”
“I watch with my dad. I’m big on football.”
“You play?”
“My dad wants me too but I don’t.”
“You’re crazy. You’d get exposure just for going here.”
“What else do you know about her?”
“Other than all of the above? She just wants to be left alone.”
“Devin? Is this how you plain on starting the year? Again?”
“Aw, come on, man. Get off that.”
He turns around frustrated but I’m glad we had this little conversation. I know a bit more about her now. Technically, though, it only makes me more confused. She comes from money and the way her brothers are playing, more money in the future. I can’t imagine her big brothers not treasuring their little sister, especially as fragile as she seems. They probably love her to death.
Maybe it’s not about the money. It doesn’t bring happiness. She wasn’t exactly dolled up or expensive looking. That told me she was the simple type. Also, thanks to Devin, I found out that she’s an unattainable hot commodity who wasn’t gay. So what was her deal? I realize I’m back where I started and decide to pay attention.
After class, Devin stops me.
“I forgot one more very important thing.”
“Yeah?”
“She’s a genius.”
“Hm?”
“Like, 4.0 genius. She’s at the top of our class. I even heard some teachers say that she’s at the top of the seniors’ class.”
“So why isn’t she taking AP classes?”
He shrugs, “Big fish?”
I shake my head, “You sure hear a lot.”
“That’s my job. Us kids gotta keep ourselves entertained somehow.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
In my next class I spot her sitting by the windows this time on the far right side of the class.
I slide into the seat next to her, “Hi.”
“Hey.”
“So, I heard you’re freaky smart.”
“You heard? You sound like Devin.”
When I think about it, I realize she’s right.
“Why aren’t you in AP classes?”
She tilts her chin up in thought and the light touches her eyes just right.
“Big fish?”
“Who sounds like Devin now?”
I think I see the corners of her mouth twitch just a bit in amusement.
“So?”
“I don’t know. Maybe next year. Maybe next semester.”
“Why then?”
She rubs the inside of her left arm and I wonder where she went. The look on her face is telling me she’s gone in thought. Thinking of the answer to my question, I guess. She almost looks at peace. I begin to think of her sleeping. Is she at peace then? Is she ever at peace?
“Kendall?”
She slowly turns to me.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
She’s not fine. The sadness never goes away. Well, I don’t actually know that considering I’ve only known her a day. But her sadness seems deep, out of her hands; like she’s waiting for something.
“Are you sure?”
“What’re you? My shrink? I’m fine. And why do you always stare at me like that?”
“I draw. I’m so used to staring at models or landscape to make sure I get it right, I guess it transferred over to my interactions with people. It’s mostly why I’m good at reading people, too.”
She looks uneasy as I say that last part. She doesn’t want to be read. I can’t really help it, I notice things. After awhile, the things that go together, stick together. When people breathe out slow and long, that’s a sigh of relief. I remember what goes with what like the game memory; like I know that the word irrelevant means unimportant. My brain saves all this stuff.
I’ve always known that my staring made people uncomfortable but I don’t want to make Kendall uncomfortable. I want her to feel at home with me. I want her to call me, rely on me sometimes. I want us to be friends, the kind that last.
“Kendall?”
She looks up to the front of the class.
“Yes, Mrs. Cadiz.”
“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you in my class this year.”
“I haven’t decided on when I want to take those AP classes yet.”
“Well, you know I’m here if you need to talk about it. I can help you figure it out. Or if you just want to talk. My offer from last year still stands.”
Kendall blushes, “Thank you, Mrs. Cadiz.”
So, I wasn’t the only who noticed that there was something off about this girl. Mrs. Cadiz was showing more than the average educator’s interest. She seemed to care about Kendall more than normal. And now she positioned herself in a way that had her slightly facing Kendall, as if she didn’t want to miss anything: a yawn, a daydream, a sigh, a face. She was alert to Kendall’s every move and mood. She was going to take advantage of having Kendall in her class. It would help her figure out whatever it was that she was trying to figure out.
After that class, I had my very last class with Kendall which I was pleased about. But I didn’t talk to her much from fear that she would shut down on me. I’ve been staring at her and asking her questions all day long. She’s most likely getting sick of me. Now that I think about it, for a new kid, I’ve been acting weird. Her perception of New Yorkers has been imprinted on her brain already thanks to me. I don’t mind much, though. The fact that I made an impression is good enough.
I’m loading up my back pack when she walks past me.
“Bye,” she says so softly I almost miss it.
Progress.
“Wait.”
I slam my locker shut and follow her out. She’s got her camera around her neck, ready for whatever right after school. She’s serious about her craft.
“I don’t have time to indulge in your 21 questions game.”
I don’t know what to say to that so I just laugh.
“Goodbye, Will.”
A shiver goes through my body from her voice saying my name and she’s gone, getting into the back of a black C63 AMG Benz. Before I have to time to register how cold the car is, it’s gone; around the bend, past the flagpoles and to the right, out of sight.
“There’s more to her than meets the eye.”
Now I sound like a transformer.