Song of a Sophomore

CHAPTER 45 - Tha Crossroads

I tapped the pencil's pink eraser against my pursed lips and checked over my answers. An entire semester of biology boiled down to a hundred darkened bubbles on an orange Scantron form. Feeling satisfied, I carried the form to the front of the room where my teacher sat with her face buried in a paperback book, the nonfiction thriller The Hot Zone. She didn't seem to notice me as I deposited my answer sheet. I walked back to my seat, feeling like I was trapped in my own hot zone of sorts.

Zachary Ashburn, the boy of my dreams turned would-be Cassanova, avoided me like the plague since our awkward encounter in the front seat of the Firebird. He sat just a few feet away carefully hiding his eyes and I did the same. At his side, sat Leo Goodwin, looking like he'd been bitten by the love bug.

"S'up, girl." He nodded at me as I walked by. I couldn't help but crack a smile.

Everyone who finished the exam early passed around yearbooks and scribbled their sentiments in the margins, and on the first and last pages. I reached down and pulled the 1995-1996 Meadow Wood High School yearbook out of my book bag. A cartoon bull and the letters "MWHS" emblazoned the front cover in gold cursive script.

I thumbed through it. Hundreds of student photos filled the book. Faculty and staff photos came next. I spied Mrs. Tuttle smiling brightly and realized I would be forever in her debt for helping me emerge from my awkward shell. Without her guidance in public speaking, I never would have had the courage to speak up to Coach Roberts and join the Forensics Team.

The unwelcome sensation of anxiety came over me, as I recalled those first months at Meadow Wood. Always being on the outside of the circle. The whispers and dirty looks. The teasing. That horrible moment in the locker room where time seemed to stand still as I stood halfway naked in front of the football team clutching my new cheerleading uniform. I clenched my fists, feeling the anger rise up inside. The bullies still had a piece of me.

Eager to put an end to the cascade of bad memories, I turned the page to see the varsity football team lined up in neat rows on the bleachers of the stadium. Zach sat near the center in the front row, just as handsome as that afternoon in August when I first saw him at the pool looking like a Greek god. In the junior varsity football photo, I noticed Leo in the second row looking noticeably less mature. If Zach was a god, Leo was his cherubic sidekick.

Two pages later, I spotted the varsity soccer team photo. Zach and Leo sat shoulder-to-shoulder again. Leo changed a lot over the course of the school year. The roundness of his face morphed into square, angular features. His shoulders grew broad and his arms looked stronger, too. He was a late bloomer, just like me.

I flipped through the photos of clubs and activities, and there at the bottom of the last page, I found the black and white picture the bus driver took of the Forensics team after the district competition. I stood proudly with my second place trophy. Leo leaned into me with his arm around my shoulder. Beaming.

We almost looked like a couple. I shook the thought from my head. I wasn't ready for all that yet.

"Hey, can I sign your yearbook?" Leo asked. He had impeccable timing. His hand brushed mine as I handed him my yearbook. "I felt a spark. Just sayin'."

I rolled my eyes and he shoved his yearbook at me with a wink. Staring down at the signatures on the inside of the front cover of Leo's yearbook, I felt compelled to read what people wrote. More than a few wrote he was funny and sweet, a lot of fun to have around, and a great athlete. Even Bernie Grant.