“Oh no,” Leila said, crossing her arms and closing her locker. “No, no. Not that short story. Every single foster parent and well-meaning teacher ever has tried to shove that fable down my throat, I won’t hear it from you.”
“I’m just saying, if we got anything from that story, it’s that if you put makeup on over your skin, you’ll die.”
“That . . . that is not what that story is about,” Leila said, smiling.
“Come on,” Sarika said, offering up an arm. Leila looped her arm through. “Come walk me to the firing squad, and then let’s go check out this environmental activism club thing, and see if that delicious boy is here today.”
_____
Luckily, Sarika's meeting with Dr. Rich only lasted a few minutes, and she got off with a warning. Room 407 was located on the clear opposite side of Belmont, in the upper corner of the school on the top floor, next to a number of classrooms that looked as though they were set up for labs. Leila guessed the various chemistry, physics, and biology courses were secluded in this section of the school in the event anyone blew something up—or a high school teacher decided to start making drugs to save his sick family.
Leila eyed all the bulletin boards that lined the rather quiet hallway around the science classrooms, tacked up with fliers for the Environmental Activism club, notes about field trips, a bicycle for sale, and details regarding September classes. Botany, astronomy, lots of classes that she’d totally take that ended in “y,” if this was the school she was actually attending instead of Central across town.
Sarika opened the door to the classroom first, and Leila followed.
Instead of conventional desks, the room was full of large laboratory tables, with pipes and valves on the surface for Bunsen burners and experiments. A handful of students already sat at a few of the tables, and they all turned to look at Sarika and Leila as they walked in. Leila offered up an awkward wave and looked at Sarika, who rolled her eyes as they made their way to a free table and two empty lab stools.
Leila scooted the stool up against the table and resisted the urge to squirm about. The wooden stools weren’t exactly comfortable. She leaned on the table, the black surface cold and comforting against her bare arms, and felt some odd scratches and scuffs against her skin. She looked down at the slab.
An array of names and dates were etched into the table, some with elegant care and precision, others carelessly scrawled.
A.K. ?’s S.R. 4 EVR: Class of 2001
DOWN WITH SCIENCE
Mr. Chet is a total babe, 10/10, would ba—
The door to the classroom swung open while Leila traced the etched carvings, and in walked Shawn, the “delicious” boy from the café. He had a beat-up backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder, beige and worn, like something from an army surplus store. His chestnut hair hung over his face as he sauntered in. He tossed his backpack on the teacher’s desk in the front of the classroom and sat down on it. He looked up and ran his hand through his hair, pulling it away from his face, and smiled at everyone in the room. His teeth were a shocking white, and he had a single dimple like a crater on the left side of his face.
He looked right at Leila, and she felt herself blush just as an elbow nudged her in the side. She turned and glared at Sarika, who in turn stared at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“Welcome everyone, I’m Shawn Kennedy. Welcome to the first meeting of the Belmont Environmental Activism Club, or B.E.A.C., as we generally call it. Like a bird’s beak, but with a C.” He looked back at Leila again, smiling, and Leila felt the warmth returning to her cheeks.
“I see a couple of new faces in the room,” Shawn continued, “as well as a bunch of returning ones, which is good to see. You should know that even after the enrichment is over, no matter what school you’re at, you are welcome to attend our meetings and events. We’ve got a lot of work to do this year and need all the help we can get, from changes being made in Fairmount Park to protests along the Schuylkill River regarding some of these outrageous new fishing laws.”
“Yeah!” a girl with bright-red hair shouted from up in the front the room, slamming her fist down against her desk.
“Down with those corporate scumbags and their machine!” snapped someone just one row ahead of Leila and Sarika. He turned and nodded to someone else sitting in the classroom, his long hair dancing about on his head.
Mixed in with the cheers and shouts were a couple of halfhearted grumbles muttered around the lab, some of the students staring down at their hands or awkwardly at one another.
“Hey losers!” a familiar voice piped up. Leila looked towards the door to spot Jessica and Gwen standing in the door frame. Jessica had her arms crossed and a smirk on her face; Gwen lingered behind, her eyes darting around uncomfortably.
Sarika moved to get up off of her stool, and Leila held a hand out to grab her shoulder. She shook her head. She seriously didn’t need to get in any more trouble today, and the last thing Leila wanted to do was keep drawing attention to herself.
“Corporate scumbags? Really? The developers working in Fairmount Park? And what’s the big deal? It’s just a few fish in the river. If people want to eat all that mercury, let them. The people working on this stuff can’t be all bad,” Jessica continued as she walked in. Gwen trailed hesitantly behind her. “You should know more than anyone.”
Shawn sighed and nodded at the rest of the club.
“For those of you who are new, this is Jessica and Gwen. Jessica’s father is also, well, something of an activist, I suppose.”
“You suppose?” Jessica scoffed. “Please. Who do you think helps fund you and your father’s precious vacations?”
“They aren’t vacations, we’re raising awareness for—”
“Right, while enjoying the scenic oceans and warm waters, while—”
“Your dad only does it for the tax write off, Jessica,” Shawn suddenly snapped, his demeanor gone sour, the playful expression on his face vanished. “He doesn’t give a damn. You know that, I know that, and furthermore—”
“Does he know you know that?” Jessica asked.
Shawn stared at her.
“Does he, does my dad, know that your father thinks he does this for the tax benefits?” Jessica continued, taking a step.
“Jessica, I don’t speak for my—”
“Whatever,” Jessica snapped. She turned and looked around the room, her eyes settling on Leila and Sarika. She glowered and waved her hand around dismissively before turning to Gwen. “Let’s grab a seat.”
“What?” Sarika said, deadpan. Leila nudged her.
“Jessica, can we not do this?” Shawn said. “I mean, really, you don’t want to be here.”
“Maybe I do,” Jessica said, walking towards the group. She grabbed one of the tall stools. “Come on. I know you want me. Here, that is.”
She grinned, and Leila felt a rush of jealousy course through her. Clearly the two of them had some history.
“You should leave,” Shawn said, turning away to look back at the group. “I mean, I can’t stop you from joining B.E.A.C., but this isn’t what you want. And I’m certainly not what you want. You made that pretty damn clear.”
An awkward quiet fell over the room. Sarika nudged Leila.
“Daaaaaamn,” Sarika mouthed silently.
Jessica stood up quickly and glared at Shawn, who continued to look away.
She kicked her stool over, causing everyone in the room to jump.
“Fuck you. Fuck you and your dad’s bullshit causes.” She looked over at Sarika and Leila, her eyes narrowing. “The hell you looking at, huh? All of you? Fuck this. I’m going to go throw aluminum cans out of my SUV into a pond full of manatees, you tree-hugging freaks. Let’s go, Gwen.”
Jessica bolted out of the room, knocking over a few more stools as she left. Gwen hurried behind her and awkwardly tried to pick up a few of the seats.
“Gwen!” Jessica snapped, peeking back into the room. “Leave them!” Gwen looked over at Jessica and then back at the classroom, her eyes flashing what looked like a silent apology.