An After-School Lesson

The city library wasn’t in the worst part of our town. But it was close enough to always double-check that I’d locked my bike before I went inside.

That spring, I’d taken to always riding down there after school to do my homework. Though I was from the right side of the tracks – barely – I wasn’t scared of the ride not quite into the slums. It was where most of my friends lived, which was one of a hundred reasons why my mother and I didn’t get along at all lately. Another was my avoiding spending time at home after school. “You ought to face your problems, Jack, not run away from them! Especially not to those no-good hoodlums you always make friends with!” Good advice, if only facing them had ever gotten me anywhere before. But doing my homework in a place where I could actually concentrate on it had paid off and I’d gotten five A’s on my last report card, so at least there were no more complaints about my camping out at the library every afternoon.

My improved grades had, though, brought on jokes from Mom and Dad that I must be trying to impress a girl. That wasn’t quite right. Bridget wasn’t a girl, she was a woman. A full-grown, voluptuous woman with a smile even broader than her hips and a wardrobe that winked at the hippie I figured she must have been before I was born, and who always had a kind word when I took up my place at the end of the ancient wooden table by the window overlooking Lowell Street. That particular afternoon, the kind word – in a respectfully low voice as always – was, “Did you get all A’s on your report card, Jack?”

“All but two B’s,” I said, taking out my algebra book. “I’m hoping I can make it in math this time.”

“Quadratic equations?” she asked, helping herself to a look at my book. “You know, my mother was a math teacher. Let me know if you’d like some help with it, okay?”

“I’d love that, thanks.”

“Bridget, dear,” came old Mrs. LeBaron’s stern voice from over my shoulder, “You can help him when you’ve finished shelving those novels. Or did you forget about them?”

“Of course not!” Bridget’s smile didn’t lose a bit of its radiance, and her whisper somehow avoided turning into the hiss Mrs. LeBaron had been scaring us kids with since heaven knew when. She gave me a final conspiratorial wink as she pranced off to the waiting cart, her multicolored peasant skirt swishing about in the most delightful way as she did. I allowed myself a long and longing look, and then reminded myself I did not want to disappoint her and turned to my attention back to the equations.

Every day I promised myself this time the algebra would be a breeze. Every day I was wrong. At least French and history and English were easy enough I could somehow concentrate on them through the mess at home after dinner. That day was no exception, but at least I could concentrate on the barely-penetrable fog that math always was for me. When I finally finished off my best guess on the last equation, it was nearly five o’clock. Figuring there was just enough time to see if Bridget could get away long enough to give it the once over (while I did the same to her from a safe distance), I chanced a look over at the circulation desk.

She wasn’t there, but someone else was seated further up my table. When I looked around to see if Bridget was in the stacks somewhere, I realized who my tablemate was for the first time. Shelby Wharton, the queen bee of the ninth grade, the object of my affection on and off for two and a half years, who of course didn’t even know who I was.

Only she did. “Hey, Jack.”

I never knew whether my heart leapt because she knew my name, or because her voice revealed she’d been crying. Either way, she didn’t give me long to think she had any respect for me just because she knew me. “Waiting for the love of your life, are you?” she seethed.

“Why yes I am.” I forced a smile, seeing no point in denying anything. It wasn’t as though the beautiful people could trash my reputation any worse than it already was. “She said she’d have a look at my math homework.” I decided to go for broke. “You OK?”

“What’s it to you?” Her voice broke again and she drew an already-crumpled tissue out of her jeans pocket. “You wouldn’t understand, Jack. You’re so lucky, you’re already unpopular. You can’t fall like I can!”

I laughed. It was hardly news to me that I was unpopular. “Right, I’ve got it so easy eating lunch at the nerds’ table every day.”

“What do you see in those losers anyway?” she asked.

“They’re the only ones who won’t pick on me if I sit at their table,” I said. “I mean, what would you do if I came to your table?”

“Probably ignore you, but that doesn’t mean you have to – ”

“Shhh!” We both looked up to see Mrs. LeBaron, hands on hips, glaring down at us. “Shouldn’t you two be getting home for dinner anyway?”

“I’m waiting for my mother to come pick me up,” Shelby declared defiantly. “And Jack here needs a minute with his lady love, I guess!”

I didn’t mind her calling Bridget that – until I heard the jangle of her ankle bracelet just behind me. She must have heard! All at once I set about trying to figure out how I could catapult into the stacks and stay there forever.

But it was too late. “I’ll take it from here, Mrs. LeBaron,” Bridget said. I couldn’t turn around to face her at that moment, I just couldn’t, and so her hand on my shoulder came as a complete surprise. My heart couldn’t have burst any harder if she had kissed me! But I managed to keep a straight face as I looked up to see her looking as agreeable as ever. There was no pretending my secret wasn’t out, but it didn’t appear to have done any damage. “Come on, guys,” she said, looking at Shelby and me in turn. “I’m on break, and we can go over your homework out in the lobby.”

Shelby didn’t appear to have done any homework, as I noticed for the first time her backpack wasn’t even unzipped. But she picked it up and, still sniffling, followed us out to the lobby.

“Bridget, I’m sorry about…” I began as soon as we were safely through the doorway. My voice trailed off as I realized I wasn’t even sure what I was sorry about, only that I was sorry.

“Oh, you’re fine, Jack,” Bridget said. “You both are. That poor lady just loves to shush people in there, even when anyone can see you’re not disturbing anyone. She’s been doing it so long I don’t think she knows she’s doing it anymore.” She sat down on the bench under the clock that hadn’t quite struck five yet and patted the spot next to her. I didn’t mean to flinch or hesitate, but I must have. “Oh, come on, Jack, I don’t bite!”

I smiled through my humiliation and sat down beside her, somewhat mollified that she hadn’t made any such offer to Shelby, who plopped down on my other side.

“I probably should’ve taken a look at your book before, so I could review how to do these,” Bridget said. “But from what I can remember, it looks like you’ve got the right idea here.” She pulled a pen out of some delightful hiding place in the folds of her skirt and turned the page of my notebook. “May I?” she asked with the pen poised over the blank page.

“Please do,” I said.

“So this is why your grades are up lately,” Shelby grumbled.

“Thanks,” I said, leaving Bridget to scribble away at the problem. “I’m glad you noticed. You know, if you want to get together and study sometime…”

“Dream on, Jack,” she snapped. “I’m still me and you’re still a nerd.”

“That’s a terrible attitude!” Bridget told Shelby. “May I ask what Jack ever did to you?”

“Nothing!” Shelby sounded near tears again. “He never talks to any of us.”

“I can see why.” Bridget turned her attention back to the problem, which she finished a moment later. “Okay, Jack, I did problem number two here, since the answers to the odd numbered ones are in the back, and –”

“How’d you know that?” Shelby and I said it in unison.

“Because I’m not as old as you think!” Bridget’s smile was back, and she even bestowed it on Shelby briefly. “Now as I was saying, I got the same answer you did, Jack. I assume you checked your answers to the odd numbered ones already?”

“Yes, and I got all but one of them right.”

“Did you redo that one?”

“That’s why I’m still here,” I said.

“He just wanted to spend more time with you,” Shelby mumbled.

“Well, I’m glad you did!” Bridget said. “Let’s do one more even numbered one. Were there any you struggled with?”

“Number six,” I said. While I was waiting for her to do it, I chanced another look at Shelby, but she turned away as soon as I’d made eye contact with her. I followed her lead and gazed out the window, wondering what kind of car her mother drove. Probably a Mercedes, I thought.

“Got it!” Bridget said, handing my notebook back to me. “And so did you, Jack. Good job.”

“Thanks for your help,” I said. “You know, I think Shelby here could use some help, too, but she won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Shelby, is it?” Bridget said. “You do look like you’ve had a bad day.”

“You wouldn’t understand!” Shelby snapped. “Being popular is hard! You’ve always got to be so nice to everyone!”

“You haven’t been nice at all to Jack, here,” Bridget pointed out.

“He’s used to it, he’s unpopular,” Shelby said. “I’m not. Just because I went out with my friend Jenn’s ex, I mean, he was done with her! She had no right to spread that rumor!” She finally looked at me. “Don’t you repeat it, either, Jack!”

“I haven’t even heard any rumor about you,” I said.

“Figures, it wouldn’t have gotten to the nerds’ table yet,” Shelby said.

“But I’m sure it isn’t true!” I said. I really wanted to touch her hand, but I wouldn’t have put it past her to bite my own hand off if I did. “Everybody at school knows those boys talk too much.” I didn’t know just which of “those boys” it was, but it was true of every last one of them. I’d heard enough from them all in the locker room, right down to what Shelby and her friends supposedly looked like naked. “And you know they talk about me, too, Shelby. Why do you think I am unpopular?”

“Yeah, just why did you cry every day in fifth grade?” she asked. “Or isn’t that even true?”

“It’s true because the teacher let the other boys get away with harassing me all the time,” I said. “How would you like it? And how’d you like it if there were still people who wouldn’t even talk to you two years later because you were so uncool?”

“I guess I’m about to find out,” Shelby said. “Yeah, I never thought of that.”

“No one ever does,” I said.

“Shelby, I think Jack does understand, all right?” Bridget said. “I think he’d be a wonderful friend if you’d let him.”

Shelby looked at me. “I guess.” But she still didn’t look happy. Then she glanced out the window and jumped up. “There’s my mom!” I was close; it was a Cadillac. “See you tomorrow, Jack,” she said without looking back at either of us.

Even before the glass door swung shut behind her, I was once again awash in humiliation over what Bridget had heard in the other room. For all the lovely things she’d said about me, I still wanted to vanish or at least dart away without another word.

But I couldn’t be that rude after the things she’d said. As I stood up, I swallowed hard and turned to her. “Bridget, I’m –”

“Jack, don’t apologize again!” she ordered me. Before I even knew what had happened, I found myself enveloped in an embrace beyond my most heavenly dreams, the press of her luscious breasts giving my heart a start I wouldn’t have guessed it could withstand. “If that girl has any sense at all, someday she’ll be kicking herself for treating you like that!” She finally released me but kept her hands on my shoulders. “Just…don’t let people like that get to you, all right? High school isn’t forever.”

I nodded. “Thanks. It just feels that way sometimes.”

“Yes, it does,” Bridget agreed. “See you tomorrow?”

“I sure hope so.”