“News to me as well.”
Iris took a seat on one of the wooden benches provided for the errant and unrepentant. She had her books and her binder in hand so that once she was properly dressed down, she could report to her next class, which in this case was world history. She opened her binder, pretending to check her notes. She was careful to show no interest in the secretary’s disbursement of manila envelopes, but she knew what they contained: the Benchmark California Academic Proficiency Tests. These were administered at the beginning and end of junior year, designed to measure each student’s mastery of math and English. Poppy had been bitching for weeks about having to perform up to grade level or suffer the indignities of remedial catch-up work. Under certain circumstances, the test results would determine whether a junior was even allowed to advance to senior year. Iris wondered if there was a way to get her hands on a copy. Wouldn’t that be a coup? Poppy was her best friend, a diligent student, but not all that bright. Iris could see her limitations, but overlooked her deficits in the interest of her status at Climp. Poppy’s boyfriend, Troy Rademaker, was in somewhat the same boat. His grades were excellent, but he didn’t dare risk anything less than top marks. He attended Climp on a scholarship it was essential to protect. In addition, he and Austin Brown were among the nominees for the Albert Climping Memorial Award, given annually to an outstanding freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior based on academic distinction, athletic achievement, and service to the community. Austin Brown was the unofficial but equally undisputed kingpin of the junior class, much admired and equally feared for his scathing pronouncements about his classmates.
Poppy wasn’t conventionally pretty, but she was stylish and well-liked. Schoolwork was her curse. She was one of those borderline cases where year after year, teachers had talked themselves into passing her along without requiring a command of core subjects. This had always worked to Poppy’s advantage, keeping her in lockstep with classmates she’d known since kindergarten. The problem was that grade by grade, she’d been advanced on increasingly shaky grounds, which meant the work only became harder and more opaque. Now Poppy alternated between feelings of frustration and feelings of despair. Iris’s role, as she saw it, was to take Poppy’s mind off her scholastic woes, thus the dope-smoking and junk food.
Iris couldn’t imagine what Mr. Lucas wanted with her. She’d gone for months without a detention slip and she wondered if he understood how much effort and self-discipline that took. She could use a pat on the back, positive reinforcement for what she’d achieved in the way of maturity and self-control. Acting out was easier. She relished the feeling of being unleashed, free to act on impulse, doing whatever occurred to her.
Mr. Lucas entered the office and signaled to Iris, who got up and followed him. Once he settled at his desk, he seemed perplexed. “What can I do for you?”
“I don’t know. I got a note saying you wanted to see me.”
Mr. Lucas stared at her blankly and then recovered himself. “That’s right. Sorry. This isn’t actually about you. It’s about your friend Poppy.”
Iris looked at him with interest. This was a change in the script. “What about her?”
“She has a lot at stake academically and the faculty is concerned about her plummeting grades.”
Iris was taken aback. “I don’t get it. What’s this have to do with me?”
“She’s struggling. You probably see that as well as I do. In a curious way she looks up to you as a role model.”
“Yeah, curious, no shit. How can I be a role model when I’m fourteen years old?”
“You underestimate yourself. You’re a bright girl. You can afford to coast because you manage to keep up without putting in much effort. Poppy has to work much harder than you. She’s got the Proficiency Test coming up next week and it’s vital that she stay on point. If she doesn’t improve her academic standing, she won’t get into the college of her choice, which I understand is Vassar.”
Iris laughed. “Vassar? No way. She’ll be lucky to get into City College for a two-year degree.”
“That’s not ours to decide. The point is, you could be a big help if you’d encourage her to study instead of goofing off. She needs the support.”
Offended, Iris said, “She doesn’t need my ‘support.’ She does fine. I don’t understand why you’re blaming me if Poppy’s bored with school.”
“It’s more than boredom, isn’t it?” He made an O of his thumb and his index finger, putting them to his lips as though he were toking on a joint.
Iris kept her face blank. How the heck could he know about that? “If you’re implying Poppy and I smoke dope, I don’t know where you got that idea because you’re dead wrong. I might have done that a couple of times back in Michigan, but I’ve sworn off. Poppy, I don’t know about. You’d have to ask her.”
With exaggerated patience, Mr. Lucas said, “Look, Iris. I’m not here to argue. I was hoping to enlist your aid.”
“In doing what? Dumping my best friend? Because that’s what you’re suggesting, isn’t it?”
“Not dumping her. Cutting back on the time you spend together, just as a temporary measure.”
“So now you’re telling me who to hang out with?”
“I’m soliciting your help. In terms of schoolwork, Poppy’s done okay so far, but she’s faltering.”
“And that’s my fault?” Iris found it infuriating that she’d been called into Mr. Lucas’s office, not to reward her for good behavior, for which she’d made a special effort, but to heap phony praise on her in hopes she’d give Poppy Earl a boost.
“You’re an influence. You have a strong personality. Scholastically, she’s not as quick as you are. I’m suggesting it might be in her best interests if you backed off a bit and let her focus on her schoolwork.”
Iris started to protest and then she clamped her mouth shut. She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks at the notion that he’d blamed her for Poppy’s failing grades. Worse still was the idea that she should sacrifice a friendship for any reason whatsoever. If Poppy’s grades needed an assist, there were other ways to go about it than dropping a friend. She said, “I’ll think about it.”
Mr. Lucas seemed surprised that she’d yielded so easily. “Good. Well, that’s great. That’s really all we’re asking—that you’ll give some thought to your effect on her and ease up.”
“Right.”