OCR Text |
Show 134 He was coming toward her, sliding his knuckles over the locker fronts, a funny look on his face. He wasn't sure if she'd belt him or not, she could tell by the distance he left between them. When she looked up smiling, he sidled closer. "You know, Suggsy, I never did get around to apologizing, for making you sore that day . . ." Dyna started off toward creative writing with Derek falling in step beside her. "That was what you'd call rude," he blabbed on, "but you know I have this problem with my mouth." "Aw, come on, turkey. How could I stay mad at you, huh?" "You mean that?" "What's the matter? You go to confession or something?" "Naw, I joined Talkers Anonymous last night." "So today you're supposed to talk about your talking." Derek was elated. "You're bright, Dyna, you know that7 You're basically very bright." "It's one of my problems." Dyna's personal tragedy met her head on at the door of 112. The room itself was in bedlam: magazine bundles on all the desks, Jan passing out assignments to students who'd rather read the magazine than distribute it, Mrs. Simpson writing room numbers on the blackboard. Eccles walked in ahead of Dyna and immediately started talking to someone else. Dyna simply stood there at the door, books in her arms, paralyzed with shame. Why had she asked to come back? She'd begged Sergeant Fowler to let her check out herself, to "exit with honor," as she'd put it so dramatically on Saturday. Honor! What honor was she talking about7 As soon as Parker saw her, he knew something was wrong. She looked sick. Scared. He stood, but when she saw him she took a step backward. No! She stopped him without saying a word. Their eyes locked. Something awful had happened to her, but she didn't want him. Parker stood there, uncomprehending, until she whirled and walked to the front of the room. "Mrs. Simpson?" Dyna said. "Yes?" |