Beautiful Creatures (#1)

·•9.02-New Girl

Eight streets. That's how far we had to go to get from Cotton Bend to Jackson High. Turns out I could relive my entire life, go up and down eight streets, and eight streets were just enough to put a strange black hearse out of your mind. Maybe that's why I didn't mention it to Link.

We passed the Stop & Shop, otherwise known as the Stop & Steal. It was the only grocery store in town, and the closest thing we had to 7-Eleven. So every time you were hanging out with your friends out front, you had to hope you weren't going to run into someone's mom shopping for dinner, or worse, Amma.

I noticed the familiar Grand Prix parked out front. "Uh-oh. Fatty's camped out already." He was sitting in the driver's seat, reading The Stars and Stripes.

"Maybe he didn't see us." Link was watching the rearview mirror, tense.

"Maybe we're screwed."

Fatty was Stonewall Jackson High School's truant officer, as well as proud make her of the Gatlin police force. His girl-friend, Amanda, worked at the Stop & Steal, and Fatty was parked out front most mornings, waiting for the baked goods to be delivered. Which was pretty inconvenient if you were always late, like Link and me.

  You couldn't go to Jackson High without knowing Fatty's routine as well as your own class schedule. Today, Fatty waves us on, without even looking up from the sports section. He was giving us a pass.

"Sports section and a sticky bun. Know what that means."

"We've got five minutes."
-
We rolled the Beater into the school parking lot in neutral, hoping to slink past the attendance office unnoticed. But it was still pouring outside, so by the time we got into the building, we were soaked and our sneakers were squeaking so loud we might as well have just stopped in there anyway.

"Ethan Wate! Wesley Lincoln!"

We stood dripping in the office, waiting for our detention slips.

"Late for the first day a school. Your mamma is goin' to have a few choice words for you, Mr. Lincoln. And don't you look so smug, Mr. Wate. Amma's gonna tan your hide."

Miss Hester was right. Amma would know I'd shown up late about five minutes from now, if she didn't already. That's what it was like around here. My mom used to say Carlton Eaton, the postmaster, read any letter that looked half-interesting. He didn't even bother to seal them back up anymore. It's not like there was any actual news. Every house had its secrets, but everyone on the street knew them. Even that was no secret.

  "Miss Hester, I was just drivin' slow, on account a the rain." Link tried to turn on the charm. Miss Hester pulled down her glasses a little and looked back at Link, uncharmed. The little chain that held her glasses around her neck swung back and forth.

   "I don't have time to chat with you boys right now. I'm busy fillin' out your detention slips, which is where you'll be spendin' this afternoon," she said, as she handed each of us our blue slip.
 
She was busy all right. You could smell the nail polish before we even turned the corner. Welcome back.
-
In Gatlin, the first day of school never really changed. The teachers, who all knew you from church, decided if you were stupid or smart by the time you were in kindergarten. I was smart because my parents were professors. Link was stupid, because he crunched up pages of the Good Book during Scripture Chase, and threw up once during the Christmas pageant. Because I was smart, I got good grades on my papers; because Link was stupid, he got bad ones. I guess nobody bothered to read them. Sometimes I wrote random stuff in the middle of my essays, just to see if my teachers would say anything. No one ever did.

  Unfortunately, the same principle didn't apply to multiple-choice tests. In first-period English, I discovered my seven-hundred-year-old teacher, who's name really was Mrs. English, had expected us to read To Kill a Mockingbird over the summer, so I flunked the first quiz. Great. I had read the book about two years ago. It was one of my mom's favorites, but that was a while ago and I was fuzzy on the details.