Intentions by Deborah Heiligman Read Free Book Online Page A

sips her coffee.
    I stare at her. “What do you mean, so? Isn’t that awful? The rabbi was doing it, the RABBI!”
    “Big fucking deal, Rachel. Why do you care so much? He’s just a guy, a man, Rachel. Hairy legs and a penis. Blood, guts, shit. He’s not God, you know.”
    “But—”
    She shakes her head, and I hear her mutter something, something that sounds like “Stupid, perfect Rachel.” But that can’t be what she said.
    “What was that?” I ask her.
    She shrugs.
    “Alexis! What. Did. You. Say?”
    “Rachel, just because you have this perfect little life, with these perfect parents, it doesn’t mean that everyone else does, you know. Grow the hell up.”
    “But, Alexis—”
    “You are such a baby ,” she says.
    I am not. That’s what I want to say. To scream. But I don’t. I’m too busy trying not to cry. Like a baby.
    Now I play with the sugar and sweetener packets too. Try to make a house, but it keeps falling down.
    “Alexis,” I finally manage, “my life is not perfect, my parents are not perfect. They’re fighting all the time lately. It’s horrible, and now the rabbi and—” I look at her, my eyes filling up, spilling over.
    Her eyes meet mine for a nanosecond and then shift past me, toward the windows. She takes a long gulp of her latte, looks down at her phone. Shakes her head slightly.
    “Alexis?” I say softly. “I’m really upset. I really need to talk.”
    She looks at me, her eyes hard.
    “You weren’t there for me when my parents were splitting up.”
    “What? You never told me. I would have been there for you, Lex, I would have!” Of course I would have. “And I’m here for you now. I know it’s still hard for you. Please. Let’s talk now. About everything.”
    She looks past me again.
    “Alexis, I’m here,” I say. “I care. I want us to be good again.”
    I feel an ocean rise between us. The roar of the ocean almost drowns out her voice. But not quite. I hear her very clearly when she finally speaks. And what she says is:
    “Oh.”
    And then she starts texting someone.

CHAPTER 9
    KISSING ELEPHANTS
    I am bereft. I am furious. Furious, bereft. Back and forth. All Saturday night I think about calling her, but I don’t. I am too raw; I’ve got nothing left. So I do homework. There is nothing left to do with the weekend but that.
    I get my work done—math, history, English, all of it.
    Monday morning she’s not in school. Good. Fine.
    By history class I’m feeling good enough—about school, anyway—to ask McKelvy if he’s thought about whether I could take the quiz about Katrina again. He tells me to come to his classroom after school, and when I do, he makes me a proposition.
    “Fine,” I say to him after hearing him out. “I’m happy to do that.”
    He has agreed to let me take the quiz over if I go to an elementary school in the poor part of town and tutor a kid once a week. It seems like a big price to pay, but helping to save the world will do me good, I’m sure. Tikkun olam . One of the rabbi’s things. Damn him.
    “Good. I was going to ask you anyway, before the whole flunking thing,” he tells me. “You’ll be great at it.”
    “Got me,” I say, but really I’m pleased. It’s nice to know that someone has faith in me. And it’s not just anyone, it’s McKelvy.
    I practically skip down the empty hall. The bell rang a long time ago, and all the buses are gone. I am looking forward to the walk home. And then—there’s Jake!
    He hasn’t texted or called me since Friday night, and we didn’t talk in school at all today.
    I have decided that he thinks I’m a stoner, a loser.
    But he gives me a big smile, and so I say “hi” with a big smile back.
    “Why are you here so late?” he asks.
    “I had to talk to McKelvy.”
    “Why?”
    “He wants me to volunteer at Union Elementary. In their reading program.”
    “Cool,” he says.
    I should thank him for Friday night, but I’m too embarrassed. “Why are you still here?” I ask