Trinity (24)

As Mr. Sumner finishes up the end-of-the-day prayer over the school’s PA system, I’m already gathering my things. I’m careful about it though, because one time Joshua Dillon got written up for writing in his planner during a prayer. But I’m so sick of this Monday that at this point, I’m not sure how much I’d even care about getting written up.

That’s not true, actually. I would care. But still.

I make it just one step out of the school’s front doors before being accosted.

“Trinity! Can you come over here for a second?”

I swivel my head in the direction of Maggie’s voice. Towering over her left side is Sister Bertha, her hands laced together in front of her. And chewing on a fingernail to her right is Nicholas Kelly, his eyes trained on the buses in the school parking lot.

“I’ve really got to catch my bus,” Kelly says to Maggie as I approach.

Sister Bertha stares down at him impassively. “I’ve spoken to your bus driver. He’s not leaving without you.” All of us look up at her in surprise. “You’re Pete’s favorite, you know,” she elaborates after a moment.

Kelly shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah. He has mentioned it, I guess.”

I’m not sure how one becomes a bus driver's favorite, but I guess if anyone could do it, it’s Kelly. Or Pearl, if she tried.

“So, as head of the Easter Planning Committee,” Maggie starts, holding up her hands dramatically, “I’ve put you two in charge of the Easter decorations for the hallways. Since Lent starts this Wednesday, you obviously don’t need the decorations up by then, but we were thinking we need a plan, at least, by Friday.”

I don’t know why I was chosen for this responsibility, and I look to Kelly for his reaction. He’s staring off into the parking lot, though. Maybe he’s not even listening.

Maggie continues, “We have a budget--”

“A small budget,” interjects Sister Bertha.

“I’ll text you guys some details. But in the meantime, you two should probably meet up and talk about it.” She smiles innocently at me. I’m surprised she doesn’t wink.

“Are you helping us?" Kelly asks her.

Maggie makes a face that indicates how preposterous she thinks this idea is. "Oh, no. Just you two, together. I'm very busy doing other things," she explains.

I think Sister Bertha lets out a sound somewhat adjacent to a chuckle. But obviously I'm just hearing things.

Kelly blows out a breath. "Well. Fine. But I really should get going. Bye.” He ambles off to his bus, which is, as Sister Bertha promised, still there.

Maggie calls out to him, but he’s already gone. So she claps her hands twice and turns to me. “You’re welcome,” she coos. I can feel Sister Bertha looking down at me, her tall frame casting a cold shadow where I’m standing. The nun doesn’t say a word, though.

“Well, I’ll text you, like I said. Does he have your number? I was going to get you to give him your number. Don't worry, I’ll text it to him,” Maggie is saying.

“Yeah. Ok,” I say with a forced smile. I scan the parking lot. “I think I see my mom’s car." I don't, but there is a car that's a similar color. Easily mistaken. "Bye, Maggie.” I glance at the nun. “Bye, Sister Bertha.”

“Miss Reeding.” I instinctively freeze at the sound of Sister Bertha’s low voice saying my name. “Your skirt is missing a button. I thought you should know.”

I have to work to unclench my teeth and speak english. “Yes. Uh. Thank you, Sister. I’ll get it fixed.”

. . .

My mom asks about my day on the ride home, and at some point she worms the story out of me that Maggie assigned Kelly and I to Easter decoration duty.

“You sound upset about this. By Kelly, you mean Nicholas, right? That's a funny thing to call him. Anyway, he's a nice boy, what's not to like?"

I poke at the spot on my skirt where the button's missing, pulling at a loose thread. "It's his name, Mom."

"But 'Kelly' makes him sound like a girl, he can't be happy about that."

"It's his last name. Everyone calls him Kelly."

My mom shakes her head. "Ok," she concedes. "Aren’t you two friends?”

I burrow further into the passenger seat. “No, we haven’t been friends since, like, fifth grade,” I scoff.

She raises her eyebrows. “Well, alright then. Are you nervous about this, then?”

“Nervous?”

“A handsome boy," she teases, playfully drawing out the 'o' in boy. "Maybe you should bring him around? You never have anyone over to the house.”

I think I die right there on the spot. “Oh my gosh, Mom. I’m not inviting him over. That’s weird.”

She frowns, that crease forming between her brows. “It’s not weird, Trinity. It’s normal. And it’s normal to be nervous. He’s probably just as nervous as you, that’s just how teenagers are.”

I shake my head vehemently. “He's not nervous. He--we're just... Ugh. Can we not talk about this?”

She just laughs. “Ok, ok. Sorry, sweetie.” But she’s still grinning a little.

And just like that, I can tell that she, too, along with the rest of the world, believe that I’m head-over-heels for Nicholas Kelly.

. . .

I should be studying for my science test, but I just can’t focus. My mind whirs with thoughts.

I want to talk to Pearl, I want to see Pearl, I want to know what Pearl’s doing right now. I think she's still mad at me, but she's never acted like this. She's never avoided me. I don't even think I did anything wrong, really. Did I?

Thinking about her makes me tired.

I want to know why Henry punched Andrew. Or did Andrew punch him? And does it have to do with Katherine, and why did she leave Henry that note, and what does she know?

And I want to know if Kelly really does like me, and I want to know why I think that has any bearing on whether I like him or not. I never considered liking Kelly in any non-friend capacity until someone else suggested it. Does that make me blind to my own desires, or does that mean I don't like him?

And why is everyone convinced that they know what I'm feeling? Maggie just sent me his number with a winking face emoji, and it's clear she's trying to set us up. The more I deny liking him, the more everyone else thinks I do.

Most confusingly, somehow the idea that he likes me makes him seem appealing. I still don't really want to date him, but out of anyone, maybe he wouldn't be so bad. Theoretically. I mean, I'll have to date someone at some point.

I'm just nervous, like my mom says.

I swivel side to side in my desk chair for a long time, getting absolutely no school work done. And when I've had enough, I pull out my phone.

I know that this is a terrible idea, but I also don’t know what else to do. I scroll through my contacts, find the one I'm looking for, and hit 'call'.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end is curious, a twinge surprised, and a decent amount amused.

I press one of my palms into my eyes, already regretting this decision. “Hi, Amber. This is Trinity.”

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(first part: https://theprose.com/post/432343/trinity)

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(previous part: https://theprose.com/post/447284/trinity-23)

(next part: https://theprose.com/post/447824/trinity-25)