my Biology II teacher, Mr. Kimball, about having female problems. He lets it go, and I wonder what excuse Cody is giving his teacher.
Mr. Kimball asks us to get our textbooks and open to chapter four. There is a full-color blowup of a fruit fly on the first page. Ugly little buggers.
âPerhaps those of you who took Bio I with me last year remember the famous scientist Gregor Mendel and his ground-breaking experiments with pea plants?â Mr. Kimball asks in what is clearly a rhetorical tone, because he plows ahead without even looking to see if anyone is raising their hand. âOr perhaps not. There has, after all, been a summer recess, which I suspect has had an adverse effect on your memory.â
He pauses to allow time for us to laugh, then shushes us with one of his trademark looks. âSince genetics is a special interest of mine, I thought weâd jump ahead in the text and start this year off with an in-depth study of Mr. Mendelâs Laws of Inheritance and how they shaped genetic research. From there, weâll finish off the unit by bringing it all to the present with a look at whatâs happening in genetics today.â
âLike cloning?â someone in the back asks.
Mr. Kimball dances his eyebrows. âAnd so much more!â
âWill all this be on the AP test in the spring?â Lucas Fielding, who was in Bio I with me last year, asks. He has a new haircutâshorter around the ears and a little messy on topâ thatâs way more flattering than the flattop he had last year.
Mr. Kimballâs lips thin. Heâs that weird age men get when theyâre old, but you canât really tell their age. Forty? Fifty? He clears his throat and says in his always scratchy voice, âNever fear, Mr. Fielding, youâll be amply prepared for the Advanced Placement exam.â
Lucasâs shoulders relax and he flips to page seventy in the book. I use the eraser on my pencil to turn a few pages. Charts and more charts. Itâs going to be a long semester.
âTwo more weeks.â Cody kicks rocks out of his way as we walk the mile from our bus stop to home. Two more weeks until heâs driving and dust up our noses as we trudge along in the August heat with overweight book bags is a thing of the past. My Bio II book alone weighs about twenty pounds. I shouldâve left it in my locker, but something tells me Iâm going to need a lot of boning up on my genetics tables if Iâm going to pass this class.
A car slows down behind us. Cody tenses.
âGet in.â Itâs Jackson in his â98 gray Corolla. âToo hot to walk in this.â
I worry for a second that heâll peel out as soon as we open the doors, a trick he thought was oh so funny when he first got his license, but he doesnât. We climb into the back of the car, which Jackson has turned into an arctic zone. The A/C is so loud I can barely hear the radio.
âRough day?â Jackson asks when neither of us speaks. He studies us in the rearview mirror. âWhatâs that?â
Cody slaps a hand low on his neck, just under his collar. âWhatâs what?â
âThat.â
âNothing.â Cody doesnât move his hand.
Jackson smiles knowingly into the mirror. âItâs a hickey, isnât it? Câmon, man, âfess up.â
My eyes burn holes in the side of Codyâs head. He doesnât turn. I am forced to wrestle his hand away from his neck.
âIt is a hickey! Cody, who?â
He shrugs and turns red, and the smattering of freckles across his nose blend away. âNo one you know.â
âImpossible. Need I remind you how small our school is?â
Cody lowers his hand. âSheâs a freshman. Just forget it.â
She?
âShe who?â Jackson is the one who says it. Our eyes meet in the mirror.
Codyâs jaw slams shut. âNobody, okay? Leave it.â
I bounce a little on the seat. âAt least tell