Page 24 of In Harmony

Isaac drew himself up but Ted struck first, ramming at Isaac’s chest with both hands to shove him back.

At the same time, a classroom door shot open down the hall and Isaac, in a flash of black leather, lobbed a right jab into Ted’s face. The sound of knuckles hitting bone snapped through the hallway, followed by a gasp. Ted reeled back, blood leaking out of his nose.

The crowd erupted with oohs and laughter and murmured talk.

“What’s all this?” Mr. Tyler, the biology teacher, stepped into the hallway and pushed through the growing crowd. “Break it up, now, fellas.” He took one look at Ted’s bloody nose and whipped around to Isaac. “Whoa, hey now. Pearce. Principal’s office. Now.”

Isaac didn’t move, but waited calmly for Ted to recover. Possibly to retaliate. Isaac’s hands weren’t even balled into fists anymore, but he looked ready to strike again.

“You’re a dead man, Pearce,” Ted said, shoving his friends’ helping hands off of him. “I’m sick of your bullshit, walking around like you own the goddamn place.”

“That’s enough, Mr. Bowers,” Mr. Tyler said, holding his arms out between the two guys. “Isaac. Go.”

In no rush, Isaac cracked his neck, leaving no doubt who really owned the hallways at George Mason. Girls stared at Isaac as he shouldered his backpack and glanced down at me a final time before turning and heading to the principal’s office.

“Enjoy your suspension, asshole,” Ted called after him, trying in vain to regain the upper hand.

The crowd dispersed and it was clear that the murmurs and whispers weren’t about Ted’s bravery for taking on Isaac. Ted realized it too and tore out of his friends’ grasp and wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve before stalking down the hall.

“And that, ladies and gents,” Angie said, “is why you don’t fuck with Isaac Pearce.”

I turned to her. “Will he get suspended?”

She shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Though I’ve never seen him defend a girl’s honor before. That’s new.”

Angie watched my gaze linger to where Isaac had gone. “Hey. For real, girl. You like him? Because…” Her words trailed off and she shook her head.

“I’m not interested in him like that,” I said. “And even if I were…”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure?” Her face melted into concern. “Is there something you want to talk about? I keep getting this vibe…”

“No. There’s nothing.”

Nothing I could tell her with my own voice and words. The odds I’d actually get a role in Hamlet, never mind Ophelia, were slim to none. But I had to turn the nothing into something before I flickered out for good.

Isaac

“Well, Isaac?” Mr. Dillings, the principal, leaned back in his chair, fingertips drumming his chest. “As an educator, I’m not in the habit of encouraging students to forgo finishing the year and taking the GED…but aren’t we about done here?”

I met his gaze without blinking. It wasn’t the first time we’d had this discussion. When I turned eighteen in the middle of my junior year—and gotten in a fistfight with three members of Ted Bowers’ crew—Dillings proposed the GED. I could’ve gotten a full-time job to help pay the bills with Pops, and the humiliation of being held back would’ve disappeared with me.

But the GED wasn’t the same as graduating. It screamed “dropout.” Anyway, I wanted an education. My mother’s death had tossed me out of the stream of life to flounder and gasp like a fish out of water. I’d climbed back in with hopes of having a little piece of a normal life. Instead, poverty, a drunk for a dad, and being held back a year all compounded until acting was the only thing protecting me. Acting onstage to exorcise the demons that screamed in my heart. Acting like a criminal at school to keep from being torn to pieces.

My mother wanted me to finish school.

Stay in school, baby, she said, over and over. This world will try to take things away from you, but it can never take your mind or what you put in it.

I wanted to quit a thousand times, but her words kept me going. And I wanted to set a good example for Benny. What would it say to him if I became a dropout?

“It’s time, isn’t it?” Mr. Dillings said. “Only six months to graduation. You can still walk with the seniors if it’s important…” His words trailed off, leaving the truth dangling between us: We don’t want you here anymore.

“Yeah,” I said, standing up. “I’m done.”

Dillings eased a sigh of relief and rose with me. He straightened his cheap suit jacket. “I think it’s best. You’re a bright young man with a brilliant talent. I have no doubt—”