Ch. 11

I get to the library and offer some gum to the other seniors who have begun to enter the data into a computer. Ms. Francis and the grade 10 students are over at the other end of the computer pod.

"Look, 95, we're going to make charts," Nicole exclaims all perky like, pointing to the computer. "Where's Tom?"

"I'm not sure," I answer levelly, trying to keep colour from my cheeks, but I see Jen and Nicole exchange knowing glances, which is ridiculous because nothing happened. Thankfully Kyle and Kent are completely oblivious—not that I'm ashamed that I'm gay, I'm just not ready for everyone to know.

After a few more minutes, I've got Kyle and Kent taking some of the data to graph the rates of change and the girls are gamely entering data. I'm researching the allowable rates of different pollutants and the effects on the watershed when Tom slips into the chair next to me.

He elbows me lightly, "Did you save me a piece of gum?" He flicks his bangs back and gives me a grin. My heart beat quickens and face flushes, I really hope he doesn't notice how uneasy he makes me.

"Uh, yeah." I fumble to pull the pack of gum from my pocket before passing it to him. For a split second our fingers touch and I look down at the keyboard trying to settle myself. "So, uh, where did you go?"

"I had a guidance appointment. Follow up for the black eye."

"Oh," I say awkwardly.

A moment passes and I am still staring at the keys. "So what are we doing?" Tom asks.

"I don't know—um, I—I really like you." I spit out quietly. Scared, terrified, and elated all at the same time, but mostly relieved to finally have said something. Just so he's not confused, I repeat it. "I really like you, Tom."

A slight snicker bursts from Tom. "I meant what are we doing for the project? Everyone else has stuff to do..." he tapers off when he sees my reaction. I'm mortified, sitting stiff-backed and ready to flee, I could just throw up I feel so completely exposed. "Calm down, 95." His calloused hand slips on top of mine which is frozen on the mouse, fingers entwining mine softly. He does a gentle squeeze and then his hand is gone. He leans close to my ear, exhaling, "I really like you too, Justin. A lot."

I bite back a huge smile as I'm flooded with relief and warmth from his statement. I'm not sure where we'll go from here, but at least I know he likes me too. "Oh." I think for a second, then take a page from his book, "Well, you should research effects of the pollutants we've discovered on aquatic life, I guess."

"Way to delegate, 95. Glad you're more than a pretty face," Tom says grinning at me.

Sitting next to him and focussing on my task is difficult, really difficult, especially since Tom keeps doing little things to get my attention. An accidental brush of his fingers against mine, leaning in to point something out on my computer screen, nudging me with his elbow, reaching across me to grab scrap paper—all driving me crazy. I've had to re-write the last paragraph four times and I just can't think straight. Things down below might be getting a bit stirred up, too, and not what I want happening right now.

"What's wrong, 95? Difficulty concentrating?" Tom asks loudly, and pointedly.

"Oh, don't mind him, Tom," Kyle says, knowingly. "He was a dick on the bus this morning, too. Boyfriend trouble with his mom."

Jen and Nicole snigger a bit, "Yeah, his mom. That's his problem," Nicole adds.

"Alright everyone, time to go for lunch!" Ms. Francis calls, taking the attention off me, thankfully.

Everyone gathers up their bags and papers, then we head back to the portable. As we walk out of the library, Tom goes through the door behind me, putting his hand on my lower back, gently guiding me. I swear it's like my stomach is full of butterflies and somewhere just south of my stomach, there's definite interest. But just as quick as his hand is there, it's suddenly gone and I feel his absence acutely.

Lunch is another awkward affair. Sidelong glances and spilled food. Yep, I was so busy trying to act totally normal that I spilled my meatloaf and gravy on my lap. I went to coolly put my elbow on the table and ended up clipping the edge of my plate, dumping about half my lunch down the front of me. So now I look like a total idiot with a big brown stain on the bottom of my shirt and around the crotch region of my pants. It's especially annoying since I took so much trouble to dress today and Tom thought I looked cute. Now I look kind of like I shit myself. Tossing the rest of my lunch, I slink off to the bathroom to hopefully clean up a little better.

Sighing, I pull another paper towel from the holder and take one last swipe at what's left of the the mess on my pants. It's better, kind of, but now I have a wet patch on my front. I suppose looking like I pissed myself is better than the alternative. By the time I get back to the cafeteria, my class is gone back to the portable, so I hurry back to make sure I'm not too late.

"How many of you have a mountain bike?" Ms. Francis asks. I look around the room and only two people have their hands up, Jose in grade 10, and Andi the former cheerleader.

"Starting tomorrow we are going to devote some of our time in the afternoons for bike repair," Mr. Sway explains when we return after lunch, "because each of you needs one for the next part of the course." He takes a breath and looks around. "We have bike frames and parts donated from the police department, as well as some parts from a few of the sporting goods stores in town. Our goal is to have a number of functioning bicycles in time for our next overnight trip."

"At the end of the semester you will be able to keep the bike you've constructed if you want it, otherwise it will get used for next year's class." Everyone sits up a bit more after that comment. First hiking boots and now a bike? I haven't had a decent bike in ages, but could totally use one for transportation since I don't have a car.

"We have time in the shop near the gym every day for the next few weeks until all of you have bikes. We will also fix up a few extra which will be raffled off at two of the local elementary schools to help offset program costs."

"Um, but wouldn't kids who need one of the bikes we've made be too poor to afford raffle tickets?" Tom points out. "Maybe it would be better to donate them to a charity for poorer families or something?"

"That's a good point, Tom. Can anyone think of a different way we could fundraise or some way we could use the bikes to fundraise but still benefit the kids that could use them? Because our program really needs the money to offset costs."

I think for a minute, then something comes to me. "How about a penny war in the school?"

"What do you mean?" Ms. Francis asks.

"Um, well, most of the other students here have money, or at least a lot of them have at least change. So we think of four or five different children's charities that could use bikes and have the student body decide who gets them," I explain clumsily, blushing from all the attention.

"How does that do anything?" Jeff asks, exasperated.

"Umm, the jars fill and..." I trail off, feeling like a total moron. I know what I'm trying to say, but from the expressions of the people around me, I'm not doing a good job of explaining myself.

"I think it's a great idea, 95," Tom says quickly, diverting people's attention. "If we think of four or five different charities and put out a jar for each on the cafeteria stage then the students could use their change to pick which charity should get the bikes. Our program gets the change and the charity gets the bikes." He is able to explain exactly what I meant a million times better than I could. God, I'm a total idiot.

"That's a great idea, and is a good way to get the whole student population involved!" Ms. Francis enthuses. "What do you all think? Justin and Tom's idea?"

Most people nod or shrug, but there's not any opposition, so Mr. Sway calls the office. "Okay gentlemen, go explain your idea to Mr. Mac so we can get approval, then you need to meet with student council. The rest of us will continue to work on English while you two go."

Tom stands and heads towards the door, "Come on, 95, move it."

As we walk towards the office, Tom tries to calm my nerves by making small talk, which is nice because I'm pretty sure I'm going to throw up. I know I'm not in trouble, but to have to talk to the principal is more than I can handle.

"So, are you excited about having a bike?" Tom asks.

"Yeah, my mom's ex sold our car, so I could use a way to get around. If I go away to school it could be handy on campus. What about you?"

"My parents took my bike away because they were worried I was going to go and see my boyfriend, and the foster system took my licence, so it would be nice."

Shit. My heart plummets to my stomach. Tom has a boyfriend?