Period 8 Read Online Free PDF Page A

about Mary Wells. Everyone still calls her the Virgin Mary. Great grades . . . well, you know what kind of grades she gets. Doesn’t go out with anyone who knows her dad and anyone who’s been out with her once, knows her dad. What else is there to know?”
    â€œThe Virgin Mary, huh? That’s kind of cruel.”
    â€œWe’re high school kids, Logs. Cruel’s how we roll.”
    â€œBut you don’t call her that. . . .”
    â€œNo, Dad, I don’t call her that.”
    â€œWhat I’m interested in,” Logs says, “is where she is. She hasn’t missed a class or a Period 8 in four years.”
    â€œDidn’t Mrs. Byers call her house? Shit, I stop to get a drink outside the classroom three seconds after the bell and she thinks I’m going Ferris Bueller on her.”
    â€œI didn’t report it,” Logs says.
    â€œCan’t you get in trouble for that?”
    â€œAt this point I’ll get in trouble only if I’m caught in bed with a dead girl or a live boy,” Logs says. “I didn’t report her because she stuck her head in my room after school a little while back, looking kind of desperate, and asked if I had time to talk. I had a pissed-off parent with me, so I asked her to wait. She looked like she’d been crying. Anyway, my meeting took longer than I expected and when it was over, she was gone. I tried to catch up with her the next day, but she blew me off like she’d never asked. A week later she doesn’t show for class for the first time in her high school career. All her other classes are Running Start, here at the university. I don’t know if she’s making those or not.”
    â€œSo why didn’t you go ahead and mark her absent?”
    Logs raises a water-wrinkled hand. “Swear to secrecy,” he says. “We talk about her dad the same way you guys do. I don’t know, I had this sense she was reaching out privately. If she’s not here tomorrow, I’ll do something.”
    Paulie says, “Nobody I know knows much about her other than that she’s top-model good-looking and hard to get to know. Stack says he’s studied with her a couple of times. She’s kind of a mystery.”
    â€œShe doesn’t seem like Arney’s type.”
    â€œEverybody was Arney’s type when he was kicking my ass in that stupid election. He can get next to any body. Hell, I voted for him.”
    â€œThe election’s over.”
    Paulie laughs. “Arney’s in campaign mode all the time. I gotta say, even being his halfway bud is a chore. He’s just kind of, I don’t know, always working it.”
    â€œLike . . .”
    â€œI don’t know. You just don’t know what he’s thinking.”
    Logs pulls himself out of the whirling, steaming water. “You think Arney knows something we don’t?”
    â€œAll I know about Arney is what you see isn’t always what you get.” Paulie sinks deeper. “I’ve known him a long time. Once back in kindergarten his family was over at our place on Christmas night. I’d gotten this big-ass candy cane, like tall as me. I was saving it to show my friends. Arney gets all buddy-buddy with me, says we could eat it by ourselves and brag about it. That doesn’t work so he goes Eddie Haskell on my mom, but she watches Leave it to Beaver reruns, too, so no go. We were playing around later in my room and he accidentally knocked it against the wall and it broke. After I stopped bawling and threatening to kill him it was, you know, what the hell, we might as well eat it. We unwrapped it and he took a big ol’ chunk and . . . I don’t know, there was this look on his face like . . . he’d known he’d get it all along.”
    Logs shakes his head. “It stuck with you. That was a long time ago.”
    â€œWell, I’ve seen that look a few times since.”