Girl Saves Boy Read Online Free Page B

less life-threatening situation?’ True asked. So much for answering my question.
    My mind said, Yes. Yes, I would . But I was afraid. I couldn’t tell True that.
    I started walking down the hall towards my Geography class and True fell into step beside me.
    ‘Yeah, maybe, no…I don’t know. What do you think?’
    ‘I go and hypnotise the office lady for you, so you’d better keep going with Art—what are the alternatives, anyway? You’d lose a finger in Woodwork, and in every other subject they actually expect you to do work.’
    ‘Hey, I never really liked my left pinkie. It’s kind of stubby. Wouldn’t be the biggest loss.’
    True shook her head. ‘I’ve got English Lit. Do me a favour and don’t go losing any body parts at least until I’ve got my university applications in. I can’t handle that kind of stress at the moment.’
    ‘I’ll hold off on it till next week, if it means so much to you.’
    True smiled. ‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’
    I was early to Art, my last class of the day, the one I always spent staring into the distance and ignoring Mr Carr.
    I couldn’t draw well, but I stuck with Art because it was easy, because Mr Carr never failed anybody (he was twenty-four and yet to fall into the role of the heartless and jaded schoolteacher), and because I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.
    Mr Carr was sitting on a stool behind the teacher’s bench.
    He was focused on what he was drawing, and I slunk away to the corner of the room, sat down, dropped my bag at my feet and gazed out the window at uncoordinated Year7s playing soccer on the oval.
    The class wouldn’t start for a while—the only students already there, sketching and talking to one another, were the people who actually enjoyed Art, as well as those who only did their homework five minutes before class.
    ‘Sacha,’ said Mr Carr. ‘Do you mind if I have a word with you?’
    My eyes snapped towards him. He smiled. I kept my face totally expressionless and walked over to him.
    When I reached his desk, I sucked my teeth and fixed my eyes on a charcoal drawing on the wall behind him. ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘How are you?’ he asked. The softness in his voice was more scary than kind. The creep.
    ‘I’m fine, sir.’
    ‘Don’t call me “sir”, please.’
    ‘Yes, Mr Carr.’
    He sighed and tapped his fingers across the bench top. ‘What’s wrong, Sacha?’
    ‘Do you really think it’s worth having this conversation in class, Mr Carr?’ I asked, teeth gritted.
    ‘You never speak to me otherwise,’ Mr Carr said. ‘I don’t know what I’ve done to make you dislike me so much.’
    I bit down hard on my bottom lip. I didn’t draw blood, but I tried to. Any excuse to leave and go to the nurse’s office.
    ‘I’d like you to help me understand,’ he said.
    I almost laughed. ‘I’m surprised it isn’t obvious to you, Jason.’
    He just sat there and stared at me, waiting.
    I smiled tightly. ‘Okay then. Close your eyes… picture your happy place…’
    ‘Sacha, if you don’t want to talk about it now—’
    ‘No, I’m good. Just listen to me. I want you to imagine that your mother has recently passed away. You’re depressed, just a little cynical, and you’re doing that whole “Why me?” thing. “What did I do to deserve this?” Are you following?’
    Mr Carr nodded, running his hand through his hair. His eyes flashed with something I didn’t recognise. I hoped it was terror.
    ‘Then,’ I laughed, ‘your dad comes home from parent-teacher evening’—I think my smile was kind of putting him off, judging by the look on his face—‘and tells you he’s met someone. Wants to talk to you about it before he goes any further. Wants you to be comfortable with it. You kick a hole in the wall, throw a lamp across the room. Remember, you’re seventeen. It’s not as if you’re a six year old having a temper tantrum. So, you’ve put an end to it. You still wonder which teacher it was, of course. Hope