Coloring Outside the Lines

Chapter Twenty-One

"Jordan, I need help on this problem."

Grr, I hate helping people. Work, work, work, lame.

"Okay, what do you need?" I smile.

On the inside, I'm crying and chucking my desk across the room.

"Number seven," Julia says. Julia, the girl known for being abnormally short. She has bright red hair, and is always wearing these overall dresses. Fashion statement here, folks.

I find number seven on my paper and sigh. The hardest one on the paper. This will take years to explain. I will have all the hair ripped out of my head by the end of this class.

I give her an unsure look. "You know, I didn't really understand that one. It would probably be best to ask Sam."

She nods and tells me that's a good idea, then leaves. Mental fist pump.

Back to work. Yikes. That looks impossible. Slightly. Okay, okay... We learned about starting with... Aha! Yes, yes. You are awesome, Jordan. Look at that, another problem done.

By the end of class I am very proud of myself, yet very mentally exhausted. Math.

Ray is waiting outside of my classroom, smiling. I raise my eyebrows at him in question. He just gestures for me to walk with him. Ah, that's right. We have science together.

"How was math?"

I groan. "Math is math. What do you think?"

Ray chuckles. "That's true, math is math."

I nod. Mutual understanding. Thank you.

We enter the science classroom and sit down before the bell rings. Mr. West begins class in his lecture-lecture-lecture-don't-you-dare-fall-asleep-lecture-lecture way.

Ray looks like he wants to throw himself out the window. I'm about ready to do the same. We can die together. It'll be a huge protest thing, we can even hold a sign to make it official: NO SCHOOL OR WE'LL JUMP OUT YOUR WINDOWS!

Mr. West is droning on and on about who knows what.

And I start watching the clock.

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"Hey, Liz! I haven't seen you in a while, cutie!" I smile as she sits in her seat.

"Hey, don't call me cute," Lizzie frowns. "I'm getting older, you know."

I laugh. "You are cute. Am I supposed to lie?"

She shakes her head and does the zipping-my-lips action.

There's a package full of the newest book arrivals on the counter and I pull them out. That shelf, this one, this shelf, that one over there. Is that a real last name? Those go on that shelf. Ah, all the way over there? Inward groan.

"Can I ask you something?" Lizzie yells from her chair.

Place book in its spot, yes. "Sure, ask away."

"Why can't I decide my own name? What if I hate mine?" She asks, frowning.

"Why, do you hate it?" I ask.

"Maybe," she shrugs.

"What would you choose if you could pick?" I ask, looking over my shoulder as I place another stack of books in their spots.

"For sure Jenny," she smiles.

I laugh. "Jenny's a good name. I think Lizzie suits you though."

"You do?" She looks uncertain. "I think it sounds like a baby name, and I am certainly not a baby. Jenny is like an old person name."