Dedications

(Wow, it feels really weird posting on here)

I have no idea if anyone will actually see this, but, oh well.


When I got the printed and bound proof copy of my book, I wrote a page of dedications, but not many people have gotten to see it. So I decided I might as well put it on here, just in case people actually are still reading this. Here goes. And if I mentioned you- I meant it!

This book is dedicated to, firstly, God. For giving me writing talent and also giving me the knowledge to use it and not just give it up! Also to my family for being great supporters even when I can be pretty strange sometimes (and they definitely know how strange I can be!).

And thanks to my family for being almost as strange as me and not making me feel left out! (Just kidding... sort of).

Thanks to all my cousins because you're all awesome! Especially the ones that I chat with/write letters to. But you're all awesome.

Um, thanks to my friends. You're cool. I love you guys.

I'd also like to thank the bands Skillet and Red for giving me some amazing mood music that really helped when I was writing some scenes. Also Switchfoot, Taylor Swift, Adam Lambert, and Linkin Park. But especially Red and Skillet.

Lastly, thanks to Shira Mali (Alice...) for being my number one fan! And for giving me great critiques and advice, especially with this novel. So, thanks to my number one fan from Nagem Teep.

And that's who my book is dedicated to.

The Novel

Hey, everybody.

This is the blog that I've created so that all of you who are interested (although I don't know why you would be) can read my novel.

So, as you can probably see, I've posted each chapter in a separate post. I was going to do it all in one big long shabang, but I think that this way is better, and less confusing.
I sure hope the word shabang didn't confuse you.

Anyway, I'd just like to say a few more things.

1- Please, please, PLEASE bear with me and remember. This is a first draft. A ROUGH first draft. It won't be the same when I make it into a second draft - if I do. It's not even edited yet. I do edit a little as I go along, but there will be mistakes, I can assure you. Maybe even big ones. Just keep that in mind as you read.

2. I would really like to know just who is reading this. So please post a comment on any of these posts, you don't even have to say anything if you don't want. Just your name. I would really appreciate that. So, please do! And you don't even have to have a Blogger account to do it. Really. So, please leave your name, at least.

3. I would also like something besides your name - input. Criticism, or compliments if you like. I'm mostly looking for criticism, though, because otherwise, how will I know how to make this better? So please take the time and leave your own personal opinion. I'll read it, most definitely.

Okay, that's all. Thanks! Remember those three things!

-Megan

Chapter One!

My Real Self

By Megan Peet

Chapter 1.

Hello, my name is Shane Baskett, and the day that starts my story started like any other day. Until I entered my Social Studies classroom during school.

But let's start at the beginning.

Like I said, I'm Shane Baskett, and I'm 15 years old. I would say that I'm a normal teenage guy, but really I'm not.

See, I'm shy.

Now, that might not seem like a big problem to some of you, but trust me, it's hard! I go to school everyday, and when I come home and my mom asks me if I made any new friends, I say no.

And boy, she really gets on my case.

“Why aren't you socializing with the other teens?” She said to me a few weeks after school had started. “I never see you bringing any friends home besides that one guy, what's-his-name.” I tried to explain to her the downfalls of being shy, but she didn't understand.

“Being shy is just a choice,” she said, “You could be outgoing if you wanted to. Which means you must not want to.”

Sorry Mom, but you're wrong. I'm not shy as a choice, I'm shy in my nature. Which is kind of funny, because my mom, she's a completely different story. But more about her later.

It's not like I don't have any friends. No, I have friends. I have a best friend. His name is Rupert Field, but people always call him R (besides people like parents and teachers). He doesn't really like the name Rupert.

R comes over a lot, and I go to his house too. But my mom just doesn't seem to think that's good enough. I guess she wants me to make more friends. She calls it “expanding my horizons”. I call it 'stupid', for lack of a better word.

But back to that one day in Social Studies.

I walked into the room nonchalantly, just like I always do, every Monday through Friday of an average week. I sat down in my desk towards the back right of the room, and saw R taking his towards the back left. People were scattered throughout the room, filling it quickly, leaning against the desks, or sitting on them, chattering away. People were hugging, laughing, I even saw one girl crying. Soon enough, our teacher, Mr. Herman, who R and I call “Mustache” cleared his throat and got us (I mean them) to settle down. He started going on about this and that, clearing his throat a lot, an annoying habit of his. My mind started to wander, because I really already knew 75% of what he was talking about. I thought about lunch, because my stomach was already threatening to let a growl escape. I clenched my stomach muscles tight, not wanting that to happen. Oh no. Public embarrassment and humiliation was one of my worst fears. But then he mentioned the words 'class president' and I sat up a bit straighter. Were the elections coming up? Yes.

“Now, you've all seen your parents vote. Elections are nothing to joke about. That's why we have elections in school also. To help prepare you for adult-hood, and the reality of voting for president. So, for this class, there will be sophomore class president, vice president, secretary...” he went on, listing the roles of office.

I wasn't particularly interested, but I did know who I wanted nominated for president. Sophia Markson. I didn't know her very well, never having exchanged more than two words with her, but R knew her (him not being as shy as me). She got straight A's, was always speaking up in class, giving her opinions, and a lot of the time she really did have good opinions. I was sure that someone would at least nominate her. Then that would solve the question of who to vote for. I started listening again.

“...Nominations for those roles are to be announced at assembly tomorrow. We'll tell you exactly how it's done then, for those of you who don't remember from freshman year. Then campaigns will begin, and students will be allowed to recruit friends to help them. We'll have lists of laws for those nominated...” he went on and on, his voice droning in my ears. I didn't listen very intently, because none of it was meant for me. Right?

That's what I thought at first.

The rest of the day went normally, too, or at least, for me it did.

I went to lunch. I went to my classes. I brought R home with me, and we headed upstairs to my bedroom. That's when I found out.

“Hey Shane, did you hear?”

I asked the stupid, obvious question.

“Hear what?”

He laughed at that a little bit, it was just his nature. Shaking his head, he told me.

“I guess you're not very plugged in to the girl talk. But why doesn't that surprise me? Heh heh... anyway, the girls are planning to all nominate some guy who's not very prominent or cool or whatever, I don't remember exactly what they said. But anyway, they said they're gonna nominate that one guy for every single position, and that way he'll be guaranteed to get in office. If the teachers see somebody's that popular, they gotta go along with it. That's their plan, I guess. I thought it was kind of stupid, personally. What do you think?”

I was quiet for a little while. Being naturally quiet, R didn't question this. But when I didn't speak up for maybe 5 minutes, he got impatient.

“Well? What d'you think, Shane?”

“I don't know. It sounds kind of silly to me. I mean, why would they want to pick someone who isn't, like Mustache says, an 'upstanding member of the teenage society'?” I said, afflicting my voice to sound like our teacher, and making R laugh. I smiled. Making people laugh is such a nice feeling. R got it all the time, he was naturally funny. I, however, had to try pretty hard. But that just made it even more satisfying.

We kept talking about the girl's silly sounding plan. I really don't see the point in it. After all, who's going to vote for somebody that people don't like? Maybe I just didn't understand their plan very well. But all I had was R's word to go on, and I trusted him. He didn't always have the full truth, but the truth that he had and was willing to give me was better than no truth at all.

We hung out in my room, talking about bunches of stuff, and then went out to play basketball. When R went home and I went back inside, my mom was there waiting to serve dinner.

“So,” she asked, trying to make her tone sound conversational and not prying, “What's your friend's name again?”

“R.”

“Come on, Shane, you know I don't like that silly nickname. Oh, now what does it stand for... Robert? No... oh, I remember! Rupert.”

It sounded so strange to hear my best friend's real name. He wasn't a Rupert at heart, he was just plain R through and through.

“It's not Rupert, it's R,” I mumbled, but she paid no attention, simply setting the hamburgers on the table and sitting down. My dad came through the door just then, home late from work.

“Hey Dad,” I called.

“Hey sport!” He said in his energetic voice, coming into the kitchen and giving my mom a kiss. “How was school?”

“Okay.”

“Well, okay! Mmm, food looks delicious, honey. Let's eat!”

And the rest of the evening continued, my parents being their normal perky selves, and me just blending into the furniture. Good night's were said, and I went to my bedroom, thinking again about the silly girl's plan. Maybe they were planning to nominate R. I didn't want that. I wanted to keep my best friend just simple, himself. But maybe presidency would be good for him. I guessed I'd just have to wait and see.

The morning dawned clear and dry, sun in the blue sky, fluffy wisps of clouds just floating around. Which was funny, because when I walked home from school, it seemed like the world was crashing down around me and the universe would never be the same. Just wait. I'll explain.

The campaign nominations were held at assembly, just like Mustache had told us. First they explained the process, went through rules and regulations, all that boring junk. To tell the truth, I spent most of that time doodling in my math notebook. I mean, I wouldn't need to know any of it. I wasn't nominating anyone or being nominated. So why should I listen? And the voting, the only part I would be participating in (unless R was nominated and wanted me to be on his help crew or something) wasn't until next Monday.

It wasn't until I felt R nudging his elbow into my ribs that I realized he was talking to me.

“What?” I said, sitting up, irritated.

“Dude, they're calling your name, man! You gotta go up there!”

And then someone was there, pulling me up from my chair, and there I was, on my feet, walking towards the stage. I heard scattered applause. And then I remembered. Yes, I know I'm rather slow on the uptake sometimes, but I really wasn't aware of what was going on until I saw who else was standing up on the stage. It was Stephanie, one of my classmates, nobody I had ever talked to. She was a cheerleader and an all-time prep, and I didn't even know that she knew I existed. But apparently she did, because I had been nominated- by her. My feet stumbled up the stage steps, and for a minute I had to close my eyes because the light seemed to be blinding them. I sure hope that I wasn't supposed to say anything, because I just stood there, I think maybe I was nodding my head, and Stephanie stood there also with a smug little smirk on her face, probably thinking, “There, Shane Baskett, I just did you a huge favor. You should thank me!”

Thanking was the furthest thing from my mind. Actually, what I was envisioning was my hands entwining around Stephanie's skinny little neck and- never mind.

I just kept standing there, and some other people were nominated also, popular people, brilliant people. Nobody that was average, who blended into the woodwork; like me.

If the girl's little plot had any point, it was beyond me. The principal said something about a meeting for the nominees after school, which I would need to attend. I only paid enough attention to find out the when and where. The we were dismissed and all went back down to our seats. The assembly finished up, and students of various ages scattered out towards their classes. I found R, somehow, or he found me. He was the first to speak.

“So, uh, I guess the girls were planning to nominate you. Wow, I really never guessed, Shane.” He chuckled, in typical R fashion. “But... snicker... you looked so funny standing up there like a board... snort.”

Soon he was laughing out loud, and I wasn't happy at him. He was probably the only person who at least mostly understood me, and he was laughing at me. Not with me, at me. I frowned and stalked off, picking up the pace so he couldn't catch up with me easily. He was laughing at my pain, my embarrassment. I scowled again.

Footsteps came from behind me, faster than the ones of the mull of students around me, someone running. R, of course. He caught up with me quickly.

“Hey Shane, don't take it personally,” he said gruffly, “I wasn't trying to be mean. I just don't understand what you're being so uptight about. Aren'tcha gonna talk to me?”

My shoulders heaved. He was right, and he knew it. I couldn't ignore him forever, him, practically my only friend.

“Okay, fine. I just don't appreciate being laughed at when I think this is a pretty serious matter!”

I watched his face, could tell he was trying not to start snickering again. But he was kind, and kept a serious look, and answered me seriously.

“Yeah, I know, I know. So I'm sorry for laughing at you. But you've only been nominated, you know? It doesn't mean you'll actually get the spot. People have to vote for you. And I was paying attention to the other nominees – I could tell you weren't – and there are some pretty spectacular people among them. Like football players and honor students. Not to make you feel little or anything, and I bet this'll comfort you anyway... it's a really small chance you'll actually be elected.”

A surge of relief flew through me like a wave. He was right. I didn't need to worry.

“Especially if I have a really extra-sucky campaign, right?” I said with a grin. R gave me a high-five, and we hurried our way to our classes.

Before we entered the first room, I turned to R and asked,

“Hey, just wondering, who was it that actually seconded my nomination, anyway?”

He thought for a moment. “Sophia Markson.”

Figures, I thought, laughing silently, without any actual humor.

Classes went on regularly, and I almost forgot about the horror-filled nomination time until I glanced up once during my math class and saw Sophia gazing at me. I put my head back down as fast as I could, cheeks starting to blaze. I didn't know why she was looking at me. Maybe, I hoped, she's regretting the fact she seconded me. I mean, nobody in their right mind would want a lame-o like me to be class president, or even treasurer. Right?

Apparently R had forgotten about it also, because when the day was done, he asked me if I wanted to come over.

“I have that meeting, remember? Something about the campaigns... I might as well just skip, though. Don't you think? It's not like I need to be there.”

“Yeah, that's right.” He agreed. I was a little nervous at first about skipping a mandatory school meeting, but since R agreed I couldn't help but go along with it.

“So you're coming over, then?” He asked. “I got Call Of Duty 2 last night and haven't tried it out yet. We could give it a go.”

I jumped at the thought, and then remembered. “Can't. Mom's got something planned for me at home. Special chores or something.”

“Aww, man, that drags. She still on your case about the shy thing, then?”

“Yup. She just doesn't understand, seriously. I mean, she still says that it's a choice, not something built into me.”

“Hmm. Sorry, dude. Oh gotta run, Bryn's here to pick me up.” I yelled my bye, watched R hop into his older sister's car, and then I began trudging my way home. Birds were chirping around me, and the neighbor seemed peaceful enough, but I had something stirring inside me, eating away at my sides.

It was the thought that maybe R was wrong. What if I did have a chance? I mean, I didn't really know what the sophomore class looked for in a president. Someone smart enough, but not a geek or anything. Someone maybe a little sporty. The girls would either vote for a girl, or a good looking guy, probably. I chided myself for not paying better attention, because if I had, I would know who was running against me, and even why they were nominated. Why was I nominated? I had no idea. The sky seemed to gray in my eyes as I pondered these things. I was a pretty all-around guy. I had done my part in being invisible, but I hadn't shirked on doing things I liked, either. I got good grades in most of my subjects. I had been on sports teams, never the star, just the trusty helpful teammate. Always in somebody's shadow, that was me. I didn't really mind it that way, either. I was good looking, I guessed, but I also wasn't really an expert on that. Like my Aunt Jessie always said when she told me I looked handsome, “Nobody sees themselves for who they really are. They just see themselves as who they aren't, always looking at the person beside them and measuring themselves lower than they should.”

I sighed, heaved my heavy backpack up higher on my shoulders, and decided to call R after I was done with whatever Mom wanted me to do. Maybe he would shed more light on the situation. Metaphysical black cloud still hanging above my head, I walked into the house and shut the door.

chapter two

2.

As it turned out, Mom didn't really have anything planned except a visit to the community nursing home, where my grandfather was living. It was actually nice seeing old Gramps again. I had a certain fondness for the old man. His body wasn't in very good condition, he could barely walk, but on good days his mind was sharp as ever. He loved sharing old war stories with me, and he was a great storyteller.
“You should go on TV, Granddad,” I remember saying to him one day, “People would love to hear all this.”
But he shook his frail head no, saying, “Oh no, I certainly couldn't do that, Shane. People... want...” a cough racked his limbs, but he continued when it passed. “They want... younger... stories. Don't want an old... coot... like me.” I protested him, but deep inside me, I knew he was right.
The visit with Granddad, no matter how fun it was, hadn't done anything about my feelings about the day's assembly. I didn't even tell Mom, knowing already something like how that conversation would go.
“How was school today, Shane?”
“Oh great, I went to all my classes, and at assembly this morning I was nominated for class president.”
“Shane, that's wonderful! Something like this is EXACTLY what you need. It'll help you fraternize with all the other kids. People look up to a president. I remember one year in high school I was president of my class. I gave speeches. It was so fun...”
She wouldn't understand how I felt at all. We were so different, Mom and I. Practically opposites. She was the type of women who would stop someone in the grocery store and ask them if they knew which brand of toilet paper was better. I was the kind of person who would drop dead before even thinking of doing such a thing. No, she wouldn't have any sympathy. And she would probably even volunteer to help on my campaign! I wasn't going to tell her, that was for sure.
So I went up to my room and called R. Good thing we have a cordless phone, I was thinking as the phone rang. He picked up on the 6th ring, just like usual.
“'Sup?”
“Hey R, it's me, Shane.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Out of your mom's clutches? What'd she have you do?”
“Nothing bad. Just visited my grandpa.”
“Oh, that's cool then. You like the old man, don't you?”
“Yeah, he's pretty cool. He told me another war story, but then he wasn't feeling good so he took a nap.”
“Life of the party right there!” I heard him snicker on his end of the line, but I knew that he liked the old man too. He just didn't like showing that he had a soft spot.
“Hey R, uh, I was thinking about the election again on my way home...”
“Don't let it get to your head. Besides, even in the slim chance that you might actually become president, it's not like it's all that big a deal. We're only sophomores, remember? Senior class president, now that would be a big thing. I mean, you might have to give a speech or two but not anything spectacular. Really. Hey, I gotta go, Bryn and I are going to go to the college, she needs to get something from her dorm or something like that... hey, do you wanna come?”
“No thanks. I mean, your sister's cool and everything, but I just want some time alone, I guess.”
“Don't sweat it. See you tomorrow - don't have a cow. Bye.”
There was a click, and the dial tone came on. Conversation over. I sighed, flopping down on my bed. I thought about what R had said. He was right, again. It wasn't a big deal. So why was I so very worried about it? My brain didn't make any sense.
“Sometimes I wish I wasn't so shy.” I said out loud, talking to myself, since I was my only companion present. “I mean, R isn't very shy at all. I just don't know how to not be shy, though. It's like I tell my mom all the time, it's not a choice, it's just how I'm built.”
Another sigh escaped my lips and I also moaned. I was so pathetic. I sat up, went downstairs to the computer room, and logged on to my various social networking sites I had joined. 130 friends on one. 200 on another. I knew plenty of people. Yet, I was only myself around R.
I scanned through my friends list, looking at the names.
Adam...
Andrew...
Bethany...
Christina...
Corbin...
Daniel...
I scrolled faster.
Mark, Meagan, Nicole, Jacob, Harry, all of them people I knew, most of them classmates or at least school-mates. Why weren't they my friends?
Rupert. R. He was my friend. Sophia. She might be my friend, if I wasn't so shy. James and Kyle. They had been on the track team with me last year. They both got medals, I got a ribbon. I sighed again, this time in frustration.
Shy.
Such a small word, but it held big meaning for me.
It was part of who I was, and I couldn't change that, not completely.
I hopped out of my small wooden chair, being sure to log out of everything so my mom couldn't come and look at my stuff.
“Mom! I'm going for a walk!” I yelled, and grabbed a light jacket.
The weather outside was pleasant, brisk, not quite cold enough to need a coat. I wandered aimlessly, in the direction of town.
I lived just on the edges of the small city, in one subdivision of many. R lived in another one, in walking distance of mine, but I wasn't going in his direction. I knew he would be gone, anyway, with his big sister Bryn. They spent a lot of time together, making me wish I wasn't an only child. His sister was really cool, also. She was in college, and that made her automatically better than R and I. But she still spent time with us. She even acted like we were her friends - not just R, but me, too! She would tease me and make me blush. Yes, Bryn was pretty great. But I wasn't in the mood to talk to her right then, for some reason I wasn't even quite sure of myself.
I ended up going to one of the local parks, and I sat alone on the swing for a while. I felt close to the edge of depression, which was strange, because my life wasn't going that badly. Besides the thing with being nominated, which seemed a distant threat in my mind by then, things were quite normal. But I wasn't satisfied. I trudged my feet back and forth, making lines in the bark dust that covered the ground beneath the swings. It wasn't until I heard two male voices muttering rather close to me that I remembered I wasn't alone in the park. I still didn't look up, though. Until I heard my name. I could barely make it out, but someone was definitely saying my name. I looked up, and saw the source of the two voices I had heard. Two teenage boys around my age, standing about 20 feet away from where I was. I recognized them immediately.
James, from the track team, and his best friend Micheal, who I didn't know very well. I had forgotten that the park was sometimes a teen hangout, but I looked around and saw several other groups of youth close to my age, and younger. Not even that many little kids were there, I guessed most of them would go to the big park in the middle of town, which had the most play equipment. I heard my name muttered once more, and it was making me feel nervous- and slightly vulnerable. It was a silly feeling, I told myself, and I stared at my feet, trying to ignore them so they would think I hadn't noticed them standing there. But then, to my surprise, they came over. Standing right in front of me.

Chapter three

3.
“Hey, Shane!” James said, towering over me, especially since I was still sitting. “What's up?”
I tried to act cool. “Uh, just hanging out, you know... I wanted to get out of the house.”
“Yeah, I get you. That's cool. Do you know Mike?” He jerked his head toward his friend, and I nodded, adding a smile for good measure.
“Yeah, we've met a few times, I think.”
He nodded. “'Sup, Shane.”
His voice surprised me- it was much deeper than I was expecting, sounding like it belonged to the body of a grown man, not this 16 or 17 year old high school student. Then, also to my surprise, they sat down on the swings, one on either side of me. What did they want? Swinging in silence only lasted for a minute. James was a very social person, and always talked. A lot.
“So Shane, why aren't you on the track team this year? We could sure use your help. Lots of freshmen coming in, too many upperclassmen dropping out. We need somebody who knows the drills. Plus it was kind of cool seeing you around all the time.”
I promised myself I wouldn't mess this conversation up. I tried to just be myself, like I was around R all the time, like so many people had told me when they found out that I was shy.
“Oh... well, I was going to join the team, but I backed out right before the sign-up deadline. I don't know exactly why, I'm just not very motivated like I was last year.”
He grinned. “Going soft? Afraid to rough it up with the MEN?” He was teasing me, puffing up his chest like he was a real man. He wasn't that much older than me. I laughed.
“Nah, that's not it. I'm actually not really sure why I didn't join, anymore.”
We talked for a long time. I found out that Mike wasn't very talkative, like me, but he wasn't shy, he was just a man of few words. We laughed a lot, and when I was laughing, I found that I wasn't thinking about what I should say next, I was just having a good time. It was a feeling that I hadn't felt with anyone besides R in a very long time. It made me glad.
“Bye, see you tomorrow at school!” They called as the darkness grew around us and we all three realized we needed to find our ways home. When I walked home, I was in a daze once again.
I just hung out with James and Mike. I didn't worry that much about what I was saying. I mean, I did, but not as much as I usually do. And they talked to me first!
I was excited about this. It was good sign, a good thing. And my mom would be so happy with me! Or at least, that's what I thought when I opened the door to my home, yelling like I always did,
“Mom, Dad! I'm back!” And I'm hungry, I thought. What's for dinner?
I peered into the kitchen. It was empty. That's strange, I thought Mom would be cooking. I walked through the living room. Also empty. That's when I was started to get a little bit freaked out. Where were my parents?
I didn't see a note from them. If they had gone anywhere (on their own free will) they would have left a note! I considered calling my Aunt Jessie for help, when I heard muffled voices, coming from the computer room. Relief washed through me, until it was suffocated by fear. Were the voices in there my parents or... someone else? I had to go and see, no matter what. So I walked towards the door cautiously. Thankfully we had carpeting, and it muffled my footsteps. Being paranoid as I was, I leaned my ear until it was touching the door. The voices were still muffled, but less so. It sounded like... a man and a women, definitely... they were... arguing....
Bam! All of a sudden, I was thrown backwards in the air, the wind knocked out of me for a few minutes. I lay on the floor for a few minutes, panting. Again, I was thankful for the thick carpet, because it took a lot of pain out of my blow. Then, when I was blinking my eyes open, the shocked faces of both my mom and my dad appeared above me. I was so glad it was them, and not some strangers.
“Mom, Dad,” I said in a hoarse voice, “What are you doing?”
They helped me up to my feet, and soon we were settled on the couch. My parents expressions were far from happy. They were more a combination of relief and anger. Once we had determined the fact that they had swung open the door while I was listening at it, and that's what had knocked me down, they started getting down to business. Mom went first.
“What do you think you were DOING, young man? Just leaving like that. Your father and I practically went insane with worry!”
“I told you I was going for a walk...” I tried to tell her, but she was beyond listening to me.
“You have to learn responsibility, Shane. You should have left a note or something. Anything!” She went on for a little while longer, and then, without pausing to ask Dad if he wanted to input anything, asked me, “Now. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Taking a deep breath, I started explaining my story. “I needed some fresh air, so I told you I was going for a walk – I guess you didn't hear me – and then that's what I did. I took a walk. That's all!”
My parents exchanged a short glance, and then my dad started talking.
“We drove all around the neighborhood looking for you, Shane. Your mother had no idea where you had gone, she was probably in the back yard when you yelled to her where you were going. We were worried sick about you! Next time, you need to be more responsible, and make sure that someone knows where you'll be. Okay? Got it?”
I nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I promise. I just thought she heard me. I'm sorry.”
“Good.” My dad gave me a hug, and then walked towards the kitchen, muttering something about dinner. My mom wasn't quite satisfied, though. Now that the anger was all gone out of her face, I could tell she really had been worried for me, and it touched me, but I felt a twinge of guilt, too.
“Sorry, Mom.” I told her, and she nodded and gave me quick hug.
“Just one more question, Shane... where did you go? We drove around and around and never saw you once. I even called Rupert's house to see if you were there, but his mother said that he wasn't home, and she hadn't seen you.”
“Oh... I went to the small park, the one closest to our house, you know? I stayed there for a while with... some guys from school. James from the track team and his friend Micheal.”
She smiled a little bit, like I thought she would. “All right.” Then the smile widened. “You should invite them over sometime! I'd love to meet them!”
As I settled into bed that evening, I remembered the meeting after school that I had skipped. I still hadn't told me parents about that, and I wasn't planning to. Besides, there really wasn't any point to tell them. A faint voice in the back of my head told me that maybe I should tell them, but I didn't listen to it. I was tired, and my eyes closed. Soon I was far away from any thoughts of school and elections and parents and being shy. I slept peacefully, dreaming of who knows what, and the next morning I woke up with a clear conscience.

Chapter four

4.
Going to the principals office is a goal that most students try to not achieve. I myself was one of those students who avoided it like the plague. Yet, I found myself sitting in a padded folding chair in Mr. Green's office one Thursday morning. It was not just a friendly visit.
I almost died in my seat when it was announced in science class that “Shane Baskett is needed to report to the principals office immediately.” Those who knew who I was turned towards me, various emotions covering their various faces. Some faces showed pity, some were neutral, and some just trying not to laugh at me. As I was walking out, hunching my shoulders trying very hard not to be so noticeable, I caught a glance of Sophia Markson's face. She was laughing, shoulders shaking up and down, yet no sound coming from her mouth. When she saw me looking at her, her face changed to one of brief sympathy, but it didn't last long. What's her problem? I thought as I walked to Mr. Green's office.
I was thinking about her again when the principal asked me a question.
“Do you know why you're here, Shane?”
“Not exactly. I mean, I think so, maybe, but I'm not sure.”
He smiled. “One of my advisors informed me that you weren't at the nominee meeting yesterday, and we're just curious why. Did you forget?”
“No, Mr. Green, I didn't forget...”
“So would you like to tell me why you weren't at the meeting, then?”
Not really, I thought. But of course I didn't say that out loud. I wasn't that kind of guy.
“I didn't forget, I just skipped it. I didn't think it would be that big a deal, because I'm not planning on doing anything for my campaign. I don't want to be the class president, or class anything. I think there are other people who would do a much better job. And I need to concentrate on schoolwork...” I trailed off, not wanting to think of any other reasons and excuses.
“Are you telling me the truth, Shane Baskett?”
“Yeah.”
Mr. Green was silent for a minute. I squirmed, very uncomfortable at even the thought of being in the principals office. I didn't like it at all. And it didn't help that Mr. Green was a very good people reader.
“You like to keep to yourself a lot, don't you? Kind of a shy guy, huh?”
“Yes sir, that's just who I am.” And you'd better not try to change it, I thought. Good thing he wasn't a mind reader! I noticed he was playing with his fingers, stretching them and wiggling his thumbs. He was thinking, deciding. Then his decision came.
“All right. I won't force you to participate in the election, except I'd really like you to vote. But we can pretend like you weren't nominated. You'd like that, right? I thought so. But, I want to help you, Shane. I'm very interested in you, you're not like most other teens your age. So I'm assigning you to something that I think will be good for you. Instead of attending the campaign and office meetings, you will attend sessions with the school counselor. Not that there's anything wrong with you, because I'm sure there isn't.” He leaned back in his chair, satisfied with his results. “Do you understand me?”
I nodded, a bit slowly, but I nodded.
“Good. But you know I have to call your parents and tell them about this, of course.”
I gulped, and my throat felt dry. “Yes, Mr. Green.”
“All right then, you may return to your class. But remember- you miss the sessions, you fail.”
I turned at the door and asked him one more thing before I left. “Fail what?”
He gave me a pointed look. “School.”
I nodded once, and left. Back in the hallway, it was transition time between classes, and I would have seen several people looking at me as I left the office if I hadn't been in a daze.
But I was.
I was out of the presidential race- and right into the shrink's office.
R caught up with me after my next class. “I heard you got pulled out of science.”
“Yeah, yeah. I was so embarrassed. Gosh.”
A strange look crossed my friend's face, but it left quickly.
“That's pretty unusual for you. Not being embarrassed, that is, but going to the big guy himself. I don't remember you ever getting called to the office, except that one time when it was your birthday or something...”
“Yeah, I had the same birthday as the principal and I gave him a gift or something. That was in the 2nd grade. You actually remember that?”
“Psh, yes. We were in the middle of some project or something. Actually, that's one of the only things I remember about second grade. But anyway, I'm dying to know, why did you go to the principals office?”
“Ah, shut up. You probably know already. I skipped the meeting yesterday... dur... but now guess what? I don't have to run for president, but I have to go to counseling sessions. Every day. Starting tomorrow, I guess. Or maybe even starting today!”
R looked at me, eyes wide open, mouth also hanging slightly open.
“You look stupid, man.” I snickered at him. But he continued to stare like that. Finally, he spoke.
“You...you... you have to go to the SHRINK? Man, I don't even know what to say to that!”
“Then don't say anything.”
I turned around and walked to my next class. I just wasn't in the mood for talking. Something inside me had turned bitter, changed my mood from sad and shocked to resentful. I was suddenly mad. Why should I have to go and tell someone all about the minute details of my life? Especially a stranger. I didn't even know the school counselor's name. In fact, I didn't even know if it was a man or a woman! I certainly didn't want to have to spend hours a week with him or her. I found myself getting mad at everything, my mood worsening when I didn't have anything to take it out on. I was mad at the principal, mad at my schoolwork, mad at the whole system! Why should they tell me what I have to do? I didn't need counseling. I remembered Mr. Green's words. I'm interested in you, Shane. You're not like other teens. Those words stung me like a wasp, venom spreading throughout my body and making its way into my heart. He hadn't meant them as an insult, but what else could he have meant?
Sure I wasn't like most other teens, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't do drugs. I wasn't into porn or cutting (or any form of self-destruction) or even swearing. Of course not every teen did those things either, but I knew of some kids who even did all of them. I was practically a saint compared to them! And yet the principal was 'interested in me'. Normally that would have made me a bit nervous, just the thought of the principal knowing me, calling attention to myself. But this was different. I was just ticked off, in a low down bad mood. Even R couldn't cheer me up by trying to make me laugh at lunch. I might have smiled weakly, just to make him happy, but deep down I was depressed. Stupid mood swings, I thought as I was gathering my books to go home, Before I was just nervous at the thought of getting counseling. Then I was angry, now I'm just depressed. Great, now I'll have to go home and tell mom all about this.
I unlocked my bicycle from the many rows of bike racks, and was starting on my way home when I caught sight of Sophia Markson, unlocking her bike, also. I gave a small wave, and right before I pedaled off, she spoke to me.
“Sorry,” She said.
As confused as I had been before when she was looking at me in class, I made my way home. I wasn't exactly received happily.
“Shane Jeremiah Baskett!” My mother's voice scolded me, even before I was done walking through the door. “I got call from the principal today. They informed me that you had been nominated for presidency, skipped the meeting, and are now assigned to attend sessions with the school counselor, starting tomorrow. What is the meaning of this?”
One day when I was 5, I decided to climb the big tree in my backyard. It was very tall, stretching far out above the rooftops and spreading it's limbs every which way. I was bound and confidant to master that beast of a tree, though, so I started climbing. I took a stepladder with me, and it helped me up the first 10 feet or so. But the lowest branch was still a long ways away. But, being only 5, and also being very stubborn minded at the time, I needed to climb that tree. So I jumped, but missed the branch by several feet. I landed on the ground hard, all of the wind completely knocked out of me. It took me several minutes before I could talk again.
That was how I felt right at the moment when my mother demanded to know the meaning of “this skipping and nomination and counseling business,” as she called it.
“Shane! Answer me now or you're grounded for a week.”
“Mom! Just give me a minute, will you? Please.” I finally found my voice, and it was stronger than I expected.
She scowled, and I resisted the urge to tell her that “scowls are not becoming”, just like she had told me so many times. But I knew that that would just get me in even more trouble, so I held my tongue. After setting down my backpack and finding my way into the kitchen, I had thought of words to say.
“Okay, I'm ready. Now, what do you want to know?”
“Shane... you're pushing it...”
“Yes, Mom, sorry. All right, so... yes, I was nominated for class president. Yesterday. And I didn't tell you, because I don't want to be the class president. I don't even want to be the class secretary, Mom. And I knew you would force me to at least try it. So I just skipped the meeting, but Mr. Green found out or realized or something, and so I had to go to his office today and he says I have to take counseling instead.”
Surprisingly, my mother was quiet. She didn't immediately accuse me, or jump at me. She just stood there where she was, leaning on the kitchen counter, eyebrows slightly drawn. When she spoke, it was slow and careful.
“Okay, I think I understand what you're saying. And I'm sorry for getting so mad at you when you got home. But you just seem like you're changing so much lately, Shane. I mean, our relationship just isn't the same as it used to be, and it's making me sad. We don't talk very often anymore, and when we do usually one of us gets mad at the other. But I've been reading this book about parent-teenager relationships, and it had some very insightful things in it. So I hope that we're on our way to having a healthy relationship, okay? And I think that this counseling thing might be good for you. If you still don't think that you can talk to me, or even your father, maybe you could talk to another adult figure. What do you think?”
I have to say, my mom caught me completely by surprise. I was expecting a rash answer, maybe even a grounding, but definitely not an apology. My emotions and thoughts were running wild, but I didn't do anything except answer her as best I could.
“Uh, cool?”
She laughed a little.
“All right, son, we'll make a deal. You will go to these sessions and continue to do your best to be a good student, and I'll try to understand you better and build up our relationship. Okay?”
I smiled, nodding my head. “Yeah, Mom. That sounds fine.”
She gave me a hug, and then directed me to a snack on the kitchen counter. By the time I was upstairs in my room, I had to ask myself, What the heck just happened in there??

Chapter five

5.


I was just putting the finishing touches on my math assignment when I heard the phone ring downstairs. Assuming it was for one of my parents, I shut my notebook and pondered whether I should play a computer game, read a book, or maybe even finish the rest of my homework. That was when I heard my mom's voice, bellowing up the staircase.
“Shane! Telephone for you!”
My interest sparked. It was probably R, but since he didn't usually call for trivial things, I guessed he might want to come over, or maybe invite me to do something with Bryn and him. And I wanted to apologize for being rude to him earlier. I exited my room, ran down the steps halfway to where Mom was holding the phone out to me, and scurried back to the privacy of my room.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Shane.”
It wasn't R's voice. In fact, it was a voice I might not have recognized except that I had heard it talking to me for several hours the day before.
“James?”
“Don't sound so surprised! Don't people ever call you?”
If I was a girl, I would have blushed. “Yes, but usually only... never mind. It's just, you've never called me before.”
“There's a first for everything, right? Well anyway, I was just wondering if you want to hang out sometime, like, tomorrow after school. Me and Kyle were going to do something, maybe if we invite Mike, too, we can play some two-on-two. You like basketball, right?”
“Uhhhh... yeah.” I was stunned. There was a first for everything, all right, but I hadn't encountered too many of those firsts. Call me an idiot, but I was amazed that those guys would want to hang out with me.
“Awesome. So can you make it? My place after school tomorrow?”
“Oh man, I just remembered. I have, well, I have... an appointment after school tomorrow.”
“Appointment? You mean like the doctor?”
“Not exactly.” I sighed, and dished the whole story. He was surprisingly sympathetic.
“Too bad. Well maybe we can postpone until this weekend. You up for Saturday?”
“Sure!”
“Okay then, my place tomorrow, how about 10:00?”
“All right. Oh wait, I don't know where you live.”
He gave a soft laugh. “Right. 403 Harrison Avenue. Google it. See you tomorrow, then.”
“Okay. Bye.”
I hung up the phone, astounded once again. Life sure was throwing me a bunch of curves those days. One good, then one bad, one right after another. It was confusing, like being on a roller coaster that I didn't remember getting on, and I didn't know where it would lead me. But I decided to just be thankful for the moment. I went downstairs and put the phone back into it's charger. Mom just happened to be there, and asked me,
“Who was that? I didn't recognize the voice.” She said, making her voice as casual as possible. I knew her well enough to see it, but my mood had improved, so I just smiled and said,
“It was James. You know, the guy I told you about, from the track team. We're getting together on Saturday with some other guys. That's okay, right?”
“Oh! Yes! Of course, I'll even drive you if you need me to!” Her face was bright and happier.
She was more glad that I was getting together with the guys than I was! But I thought she might be. My mother was a strange person, unlike anyone else I knew. But she was my mom, and I always loved her. Most of us never really stop loving our parents, unless we're in some kind of situation sadder than what I like to think about.
I thought about my dad. He had a sad childhood. Abandoned at birth, put in a foster home, but when he was 13 his birth parents came back for him. His dad was an alcoholic who had just received bail. His mother rarely spoke to him, and if it was, it was in shouts or curse words. I shuddered. My dad was one of the best, kindest people I knew. He didn't raise he voice to me very often. He never drunk, not even a glass of wine or two. He was gentle with my mom. In that instant, I became so thankful of my parents. I had never taken the time to stop and actually think about them before. Lots of people take happy homes and loving parents for granted. I won't, I thought, Never again.
I dreamed that I was in a skateboard park that night. I didn't have a skateboard, it was just me, and I was wearing a huge pair of farm boots. They probably would have fit my dad, but not me. People were skating all around the park, but they never even noticed me. I was wearing a suit and a tie at first, but then I looked down and all of a sudden I was in my pajamas. I looked up again, to see one particularly big skater coming right my was, fast- and he wasn't slowing down or stopping. Then several other people joined behind him. I only got to see their faces – and then I woke up. Still half between dream and reality, I tossed and turned. Their faces were still in my head.
Mr. Green. R. James, and Mike, possibly Kyle. I think Sophia was on one, and maybe even my mom. I shivered and pulled my covers tighter. It had been a weird dream, just like many, but it disconcerted me. Soon enough, though, I fell back asleep, and by morning, I had forgotten all about it.
R managed to avoid me mostly throughout the day, but when my last class was halfway finished and I hadn't been able to apologize to him yet, I promised myself I would catch him before he went home. When the final bell rang, I didn't even go to my locker, I went to his. I got there first, and after waiting for a few minutes, he showed up.
“Shane.”
“R. I want to-”
“What are you doing at my locker? ...Still holding your books.”
“Oh, yeah, I came here first so I could be sure to talk to you. Sorry for how I was yesterday after the principals office, I was acting kind of jerky and I took it out on you, but it wasn't your fault.”
I felt kind of awkward with all the people around us, especially since I was a guy and I felt strange apologizing to my best friend in the first place, but I knew that I had to do it.
“'S'okay. No sweat. I might have acted the same if it was me going to the office. So, wait, you start with the counselor lady today?”
“Yeah. It's a lady? Dang it.”
“Well, I think it's a lady. Actually, I think they might have two, a man and a women. Maybe they only let the guy counsel guys.” He looked sympathetic. “Good luck, dude.”
“Thanks.” He gave me an encouraging slap on the back, and I turned around and walked to my locker. I had no idea what to expect of the counseling thing, but I was bound and determined to keep an open mind. It might not be that bad, after all.
I was wrong. It was worse. I knew that the counselor I was talking to was a psychologist, but for some reason, I had just expected to have to answer lots of basics about myself, like favorite food, favorite color, and so on. But it wasn't like that at all.
First, when I entered the office (which was more like a hallway; I guessed it was just for people to wait in) the lady at the desk asked me if I was there to see Ms. Keith or Mr. Quirk. Now, I really wanted to ask for Ms. Keith right then, because why would I want a shrink named QUIRK? But I just said that I hadn't been told, so she sent me into the man's office. It was a larger room, still pretty small, though, with some pictures of scenery and animals on the wall. A couch, like I had expected, but also two easy chairs facing the desk where a tall, sturdy-looking man sat, going through a file. That must be Mr. Quirk. I cleared my throat, and he looked up. He squinted a little at first, but then picked up a pair of glasses from the desk, and set them on his nose.
“Ah! And your name is?”
“Shane Baskett, sir. You're Mr. Quirk?” I decided I should ask just to make sure.
“Yes, that's me. Ah now, Mr. Baskett. The principal has told me a little bit of what he knows of you. But I just can't wait to get to know you better. Oh, do sit down!” He gestured at the two chairs, so I sat down in the right one, hoping there wasn't some personality test thing that was determined by what chair I sat in, like I had seen on TV. He picked up a different file from his desk and started flipping through it. A lot of the pages were blank. I guessed that was my file.
I was going to have a file.
Oh joy.
“Shane,” he started off, “tell me a bit about yourself.”
Really, what is one supposed to answer to that question? Still, I cleared my throat quietly and started talking.
“Um, well, I'm 15. Sophomore. I don't really know what you know about my already, so, um, well... okay, Mr. Quirk, I'll admit it. I have no idea what to say to you.”
His face softened a bit. He must hear that a lot.
“Anything! Tell me about your life, your family. Anything!”
That didn't help at all. Thanks, I though sarcastically.
“Okay... I have a mom. And a dad. No siblings. Um, my dad is an insurance agent and my mom sells flowers and plants from our home, it's an online business.”
He nodded, and was writing it all down. That made me more nervous than I already was.
“Tell me about your friends,” he prompted.
“My best friend is R. Well, his real name is Rupert, but usually only grownups call him that. He goes by R. I've known him since kindergarten, and we've been best friends since then, also.”
I told him a few more things about me, my family, but then he started asking more complicated questions.
“Do you know about the -something something some big word that I had never heard of before-? What about the president's policies? How do you feel about organized religion? Separation of church and state? You say your best friend is called R - why do you think he chose to be called that? You're called Shane, not S, correct?”
I wasn't exactly sure how to respond, so I looked at him quizzically for a minute. He didn't notice at first, but then he seemed to comprehend the manner of my look.
“Oh. You're right, our relationship isn't quite on that level yet. All right, we'll stick with the simple questions for now. But I'm sure when we've spent enough time together, you'll feel comfortable answering those.”
He kept on asking more questions about my life, wanting as many details as he could squeeze out of me.
Still, throughout the whole rest of the session (which was only an hour long, thankfully), all I could think of was those strange questions he had asked, but even more so, what he had said afterward. “Oh. You're right, our relationship isn't quite on that level yet. All right, we'll stick with the simple questions for now. But I'm sure when we've spent enough time together, you'll feel comfortable answering those.”
We said our goodbyes, and I made my way home, still thinking about how strange it had been. Mr. Quirk had his little quirks all right. He had this really annoying habit of clipping his nails whenever there was a lag in the conversation. By the end of the hour, I couldn't stand the sound anymore, and I could have sworn if he clipped even one more nail, I would have gone crazy.
I settled down after dinner to do my homework, and I noticed that my English teacher had slipped a note onto my returned quiz. No, it wasn't in her handwriting. Then what was it? I read it, struggling to make out the words written in a tiny but neat handwriting.
“Shane, please meet me tomorrow at the Snack Shack in town at noon. I want to talk to you. -Sophia.”
Had I really read it correctly? I went over it again. Yes, that was correct.
It was from Sophia. She wanted to meet me.
To talk to me.
Another curve in the roller coaster. If they kept up at the pace they were coming, I might throw up. But at the moment I was just confused, yet again. Girls made no sense, especially that particular one. And I couldn't meet her, anyway, since I would be hanging out with James and Kyle and Mike. But I wasn't going to call her and tell her that- no way. I wasn't about to go calling up some girl I barely knew. It was weird enough that she wanted to talk to me in the first place. So I guess I'd just have to miss it.
“Ha!” I laughed out loud. Soon more laughs escaped my lips, turning into waves of laughter, and then eventually I was practically rolling on the floor laughing. It just seemed so funny.
I had never even asked anybody out, and I was standing someone up.
I was going to stand up a girl who asked me!
It wouldn't have been all that funny normally, but at the moment, it was hilarious. Finally the laughter subsided, and I wiped my eyes and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I climbed into my bed and pulled the blankets over me, I chuckled. When I closed my eyes, I snickered. I laughed myself to sleep.