page 22

[green]

Mikey says goodbye to Frank and goes on to his class. He kicks himself for doing nothing, for not even giving Frank his phone number, but he figures he has plenty of time. Frank's not going anywhere. Maybe tomorrow at lunch he'll talk to him more.

Drama class is awesome, really. It's hectic and loud, but all the kids are friendly and the teacher is amazing. Her name is Ms. Cloud, and she hands out a syllabus that seems strikingly bare.

“There are no tests in this class,” Ms. Cloud says, and the entire class cheers. Once they've quieted down a little, she goes on to say, “You'll be graded on a few assignments, but for the most part, I like to keep it easy in here.”

Mikey is all for easy.

The boy sitting behind Mikey leans in and says, “This is already my favorite class.”

Mikey suppresses a laugh and looks behind him at the boy. And has to do a double take. He's not only wearing eyeliner, but some kind of blue face paint over one eye and most of his cheek. It looks weird, but cool. Mikey shakes his head. “So I guess you'll want to do makeup department stuff.”

The boy laughs and nods. “If we have such a thing. I'm Ryan, by the way.”

“Mikey. Do you always wear stuff like that?”

“Do you like it?” Ryan asks. “And no, just on special occasions.”

“My brother wears face paint sometimes,” Mikey says with a shrug. “It's creative.”

Ryan gives Mikey a smile. He's young looking, younger than a freshman should be. Mikey figures maybe he's skipped some grades. He doesn't want to be rude and ask him how old he is, though.

Ryan looks down at his syllabus. “We have to memorize and do oral presentations,” he says.

Mikey groans. “Okay, maybe this won't be my favorite class.”

“It's only two we have to do, and then a skit at the end of the semester.”

“I suppose I can live through that,” Mikey says. “And we probably not graded too harshly, I mean, Ms. Cloud seems pretty cool.”

“Yeah, probably if we do our best we'll get A's.”

Ms. Cloud picks that moment to walk by their desks, and she smiles. “Yes, exactly,” she says. “I just want to try to develop what natural talent you may have. As long as you try, you'll be graded fairly.” Then she keeps walking, on to the next desks to chat with other students.

“She's nice,” Ryan says softly. “I think I like her. For a teacher, you know.”

Mikey shrugs. “This is probably going to be my only A. I'll take it.”

Ryan bites his lip. “If I don't do well in all my classes, my dad really comes down on me,” he says.

“Have you skipped grades?” Mikey asks. Ryan just looks so young.

Nodding, Ryan folds up his syllabus and puts it in his bag. “Yeah. They call me Gifted.” He uses a monotone Mikey is very familiar with because he uses the same tone of voice himself. Ryan is embarrassed.

Mikey shrugs it off, not wanting to dwell on it if Ryan doesn't. They spend the rest of class chatting. Ryan seems a little wary at first, but then he opens up more. He likes pop-punk music and Mikey pulls out his iPod and shares an earbud with him. The class period goes by fast.

The thing about Ryan, what Mikey learns in that hour, is that he likes to try to keep his face straight and his voice even. He doesn't always succeed, but neither did Mikey when he learned to do it. Ryan's young yet, and Mikey can almost imagine what he'll be like in a year or two. Even cooler, most likely.

When the bell rings and it's time to go to his next class...


page 36 ask Ryan to hang after school
page 37 say nothing