“Sounds like a blast.” I pull his hand off my shoulder, dropping it like a dirty pair of underwear. “I think I’ll pass. You have a better chance of getting with Jane. As a matter of fact, I heard she doesn’t have a date either. You should ask her.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I will. Anyway, I was coming over here to see how many haikus are due for Nord’s class. I did three but can’t remember if we’re supposed to have three or four?”
“Haikus today? Oh crap, I forgot. Talk to you guys later.” I grab my water and rush to my locker for a pen and paper. Writing a few haikus is a lot more tolerable than dodging Prom inquisitions and Maisey gossip in the cafeteria.
My eyes stay dry but I bleed my emotions into my haikus. Funneling my feelings onto the paper is the next best thing to skipping the rest of the school day.
When I drop the poems onto Mr. N.’s desk as the bell rings, he hands them right back. “No, you can go ahead and take this to your desk, Ms. Hughes. Unless you have the one you’ll be reading memorized?”
“Oh right,” I say, shaking my head as if I’d just remembered. Like I knew all along we’d be reading them aloud. As if it’s no big deal and I hadn’t made the poems so personal.
Mr. Norderick leans against the whiteboard. “I’m sure everyone’s heard it by now, in the hallways, if not from the morning announcement, but we’ve lost one of––” Mr. N. swallows, clears his throat, and pauses long enough for me to worry that he’s going to cry. “We’ve lost one of our classmates. Miss Morgan was smart, polite, kind, and respectful. It’s a tremendous loss for her family and friends, but for our school as a whole. Whether she was a friend or not, I offer my own condolences, and if anyone needs anything let me know. I also hope her loss is one that’ll remind us to reach out to our friends and family in uncertain times.”
Justin’s hand creeps up behind me. “I’m reaching out,” he whispers.
Kallie giggles as I elbow his hand back and glare. “Could you be any more awful?”
Mr. Norderick unbuttons his navy blue Friday blazer and sits on his desk. “In life, death is one of the hardest things to deal with. Did anyone have any questions or anything to add?”
Everyone glances around and shrugs or just stares at the tops of their desks. I chew the inside of my cheek, wishing I could think about anything but Maisey. And how I barely noticed her in class, but she was here. Now she’s not here and I can see her. Her eyes are still just as sad and her posture is even more defeated. And I can feel it in my bones.
“Are we reading one or all of our poems today?” Shandy asks.
“Good call, Miss Silvers. Since no one has anything to add, let’s get to work.”
Shandy recites a poem about a cold winter snow without even glancing at her paper. Ready to submit her work to the Pulitzer judges, she ends her poem with a proud display of her teeth, braces banded in maroon and white.
Nord calls on me next.
Without the energy to even attempt to improvise something less personal, I read the first one I wrote.
Flames blaze over tears
Ashes search, clawing black skies
New wings make her dance
“Very nice,” says Mr. N.
Kallie reads hers about a cherry blossom in a snowstorm. She leans across the aisle and whispers, “I found mine online.”
Justin pokes me in the back with a pencil. “Oh you just came up with that today? Doubt it. You didn’t have to bail on us at lunch. It’s cool, though, I’m over you. Do you really think I have a chance with Jane?”
Mr. Norderick interrupts. “Mr. Conner, I guess you’re volunteering yourself to go next. Please do us a favor by delighting us with all three of your haikus.” Justin stands and reads about video games, bacon, and something about a breakfast burrito, all three sounding like he’s inviting us to a mattress sale.
Maisey’s seat, screaming its emptiness, keeps dancing in my peripheral vision. A lump forms in my throat, and I zone in and out until Nord calls on Sean.
“Mr. Mills, do you have something for us today?”
Sean straightens his back against the seat.
Gray diamonds sparkle
Breezy smile alluring laugh
Drives me past crazy
… He clears his throat. “I hope she says yes when I ask her to Prom.”
Mr. Norderick adjusts his eyeglasses, looking down his nose at Sean, “Impressive, had it not been for the last line. A haiku is only three lines.”
“I know,” says Sean. “I just threw that last line in there on impulse. For fun.”
“Okay, gotchya Mr. Mills. Good luck, we all hope she says yes too.”
The class laughs. I blush a rushing wave of hot crimson as I run through the lines he’d read over again in my head. Is he talking about my eyes? Breezy? He’s talking about me?
Kallie pumps her fist and mouths “Yes!” as I run through Sean’s lines once more. I shrug. Another classmate reads his haiku and she kicks me sideways from her desk across the aisle.