Shrinking Violet Read Online Free PDF Page B

there are no cameramen filming a Pantene commercial. Both girls are talking on their jeweled cell phones. It would be funny if they were talking to each other just to seem important. That's something my mother would have done in high school. If I were one of the jeweled girls, she'd be thrilled. But even then I'm sure she'd find something else to complain about.
    I notice that Gavin's sitting with a few friends against the side of the building. Two of them are talking, Gavin's listening to his iPod, and another guy's playing some little handheld game. But Gavin and the handheld guy are in the middle, so the other two have to talk over them. It's funny to watch.
    "What do you think of Gavin Tarn?" I nudge Audrey.
    "The metal guy over there?" She points to the side of the building.
    I slap her hand down. "Yeah. But he likes rap, too."
    "Okay, the rap metal guy. What about him?"
    "Oh, nothing. He's in my English class." The corner of Audrey's lip goes up. "You like him?"
    "No." I turn up the music a notch.
    Audrey gets the message, and I cue up another hot jam. Neither of us wants to go back to class. Back to life. The way I see it, there are three parts to me. The way my mom wants me to be, the way I'm expected to act at Ridgeland, and the way I want to act.
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    I haven't figured that last part out yet, but I know it's not the way everyone else wants me to be.
    Only two more classes left after lunch, then I'm home free. Audrey has band practice, otherwise I would've dragged her home with me. She tried forever to get me to join the band, but since I don't play an instrument, I thought it was a ludicrous idea. She said if I chose something like the clarinet, I could pretty much fake it because there were four other clarinet players. She, however, is a star French-horn player and certainly doesn't fake it.
    After lunch I go left to sociology and Audrey goes the other way to Spanish. Ms. Collins makes us sit in alphabetical order. She says it's easier to take attendance, but I think it's just one of her cruel little experiments to see if I survive sitting in the first row. All my life, with the last name Adams, I've hated alphabetical order with a passion. I'm always first, unless Alison Abel or Phillip Abraham is in my class and then I'm second or third.
    My worst fear, that I've had ever since I entered high school, is that if Phillip and Alison are both sick the day of graduation, I will be the first person to walk up onstage in front of hundreds of people. To have so many eyes staring at me at once will make me go blind.
    Luckily, Phillip is sitting next to me today. I peer over at him. Looks healthy, pink skin, no rings under the eyes, definitely no problem eating. Good, hopefully he can stay that way for the next few months. I'll cook his meals and do his homework if I have to.
    Ms. Collins takes attendance; then Phillip raises his hand.
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    "What is it, Phillip?" Ms. Collins reaches for a stack of papers on her desk.
    "I feel like I'm going to hurl. Can I get a pass to the nurse?"

    Okay, so much for him being invincible. After he leaves, Ms. Collins hands out a pop quiz. Did Phillip have a premonition? Well, I'm happy to take the quiz if that means I won't be called on.
    The quiz is easy. A few questions about societal norms from last week's reading and an essay question on how we would feel if we had an arranged marriage right after graduation. First off, if my mom chose the guy, it would be totally hopeless. No doubt he'd be hot, but his brain would be malnourished. He'd probably spend all day flexing in the gym mirror, and it'd only be a matter of months until he cheated on me.
    But what if by some stroke of luck my mom happened to come across a guy that was good looking and intelligent? That would be amazing. I would never have to drool over guys again, wishing I had the courage to speak to them, wishing that one would ask me out.
    Before Ms. Collins has even collected all the quizzes, some of the girls are already