Slammed

home.”
     
    ***
     
    My mother is already in bed. Kel and Caulder are sitting on the couch watching TV.
     
    “ Caulder, your brother wants you to go home. Kel and I have plans tomorrow, so we won't be home all day.”
     
    Caulder grabs his jacket and heads toward the front door.
     
    "See ya, Kel!" He slips his shoes on and leaves.
     
    I walk to the living room and throw myself into the seat beside Kel. I grab the remote and start flipping through channels, attempting to put the fact that I just pissed Will off out of my mind.
     
    “ Where were you?” Kel asks.
     
    “ With Eddie.”
     
    "What were y'all doing?"
     
    "Driving around."
     
    “ Why were you at Caulder’s house when we got home from the movies?”
     
    “ Will paid me to clean his house.”
     
    “ Why is Mom sad?”
     
    “ Because. She doesn’t have enough money to pay me to clean her house.”
     
    “ Why? Our house isn’t dirty.”
     
    “ Do you want to go ice skating tomorrow?”
     
    "Yes!"
     
    “ Then stop asking so many questions.”
     
    I press the power button on the remote and send Kel to bed.
     
    When I climb into my own bed, I set the alarm for six o’clock. I want to be out of this house before my mother wakes up.
     
    Kel and I spend the entire day Sunday blowing every cent of my savings account. I took him to breakfast where we ordered two meals each off of the menu. We went ice skating and we both sucked at it so we didn't stay long. I took him to lunch at a concession stand inside an arcade where we stayed for four hours. After the arcade, I took him to an afternoon movie where we had dinner that consisted of even more concession stand food. I would have taken him for dessert, but he's now complaining that his stomach hurts.
     
    My mother is at work by the time we get home. My timing isn’t accidental by any means. I take a shower, pick out our clothes for school and put away a load of laundry. I’m so tired that I’m able to fall asleep, without confronting anything at all.
     

13.
     
    ” Shooting off vicious
    collections of words
The losers make facts
    by the things they have heard
And I find myself
    trying hard to defend them."
    - The Avett Brothers, All my mistakes
     

Chapter Thirteen
     
     
     
    “ Got another one for ya,” Nick says as he takes his seat Monday morning.
     
    If I have to hear another Chuck Norris joke, I’m literally going to explode. “Not today, my head hurts,” I reply.
     
    “ You know what Chuck Norris does to a headache?”
     
    “ Nick, I’m serious. Shut up!”
     
    Nick withdraws and turns to the unfortunate student to his right.
     
    Will’s not here. The class waits a few minutes, not really knowing what to do. Apparently this is uncharacteristic of him.
     
    Javi stands up and gets his books. “Five minute rule,” he says as he walks out the door. He walks right back in though, followed by Will.
     
    Will shuts the door behind him and goes to his desk and sets a stack of papers down. He's on edge today, and it's obvious to everyone. He hands the first student of each row a smaller stack of the papers to pass back, including me. I look down at my paper and there are about ten sheets stapled together. I start flipping through them and recognize one page is Eddie's poem about the pink balloon. They must all be poems written by students. I don't recognize any of the others.
     
    “ Some of you in here have performed at the slam this semester. I appreciate it. I know it takes a lot of courage." He holds up his own copy of the collection of poems.
     
    "These are your poems. Some were written by students in my other classes, some by students in here. I want you to read them. Once you’ve read them, I want you to score them. Write a number between zero and ten, ten being the best. Be honest. If you don't like it, give it a low score. We're trying to find the best and worst. Write the score in the bottom right of each page. Go ahead.” He sits at his desk and watches the class.
     
    I don't like this assignment. It doesn't seem fair. I'm raising my hand. Why am I raising my hand? He looks at me and nods.
     
    "What's the point of this assignment?" I ask.
     
    His eyes slowly make their way around the classroom. "Layken, ask that question again after everyone's finished."
     
    He's acting strange.
     
    I start reading the first poem when Will grabs two slips of paper off of his desk and walks past me. I glance back just as he lays a slip on Eddie’s desk. She