Goodbye, Mr. Terupt, page 9
IF you spend extra time with someone, THEN one of two outcomes is probable: (1) You grow apart after getting on each other’s nerves, or (2) you grow closer.
My farm project was off to a tremendous start. I established a schedule where I visited Danielle’s farm on Monday and Wednesday afternoons and Friday mornings before school. The morning was tough, especially when it was cold, but I wanted to have a.m. and p.m. data so that I could compare. This was only one of several different data analyses I had planned for my project. Mine was going to be the best. I loved projects, but I was already learning so much with this one that it ranked right up there with the best Mr. Terupt projects.
Usually, I preferred working alone on assignments of this magnitude, but Danielle was a terrific assistant and an exceptional resource. She was there to help me on every one of my visits, even on the cold mornings.
One of the first things I noticed was how comfortable the calves were with Danielle. They weren’t nearly as jittery around her as they had been with Peter. They still sucked at her shirt and head-butted the milk pail, but she was used to it and didn’t go berserk like Peter had. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever call a calf a pet, but Danielle had that kind of relationship with them. It made getting my measurements a piece of cake.
“The calves trust you,” I said.
“The more you’re with them, the more comfortable they’ll grow with you too,” she assured me.
“In my research, I read somewhere that cows are a reliable judge of character. I can see why they like you.” I meant that, the last part especially, but I didn’t mean to say it out loud. It slipped.
Danielle blushed and giggled. I had to look away.
“You read that somewhere?” she said. “That’s funny. My dad always says that.”
Come to think of it, now I remembered it was Jessica who’d told me something similar about cows, after she’d read it in one of her books. Jessica, I thought. What was wrong with me? I needed to focus.
“Can we check on the pregnant cows?” I asked, kicking at the ground. I couldn’t look at Danielle yet, but standing there in awkward silence was just that—awkward.
Danielle led the way. It didn’t take long to reach the holding pen, and the change in scenery gave us something new to talk about.
“Suzie’s getting ready,” Danielle said, pointing at the light brown cow.
“How do you know?”
“Look,” she urged.
I leaned against the fence railing and studied the animal. “Whoa…yup…it sure looks that way,” I agreed, remembering what Danielle had told me about swollen parts.
Danielle giggled. She knew what observation I’d made. Now it was my turn to blush.
“Do you also see how her udder is beginning to stretch?” Danielle noted.
I nodded and jotted those observations in my notebook. I might’ve been the smartest in the classroom, but out here Danielle was the best. I continued recording notes and observations. I was done after a few minutes, but I didn’t say so. I wasn’t in any rush to leave.
I’d been careful around Jeffrey ever since he’d snapped at me over a silly cookie. I still hadn’t told anyone what had happened—not even Danielle. I was tired of giving him time and space but I didn’t know what else to do. I kept hoping he’d come back around. Apologize. But he never did. Instead, he seemed to be pulling away. And it only got worse after wrestling started. We sat with the gang at lunch, but Jeffrey was quiet. And most days he left early. Waiting wasn’t going to work, so I tried talking to him about it, but that was a mistake—not my biggest mistake, though.
“Everything okay?” I asked after following him out of the cafeteria.
“Yeah,” he answered. Nothing more.
“Wrestling going okay?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Anything wrong?”
“No!” he yelled. “So stop pushing.”
I flinched. That was twice he’d exploded at me now. The instances were weeks apart, but the hurt was no less. I tried not to be too sensitive, but it was hard to hide my feelings after that. I turned and walked away before he could see my eyes watering.
I spotted Danielle down the hall at her locker and started toward her, but as I got closer, I saw that she was busy laughing with Luke. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her—not now.
I was good at helping other people with their problems, but not at dealing with my own. Maybe Jeffrey and I were too similar.
Wrestling season was officially under way, and I couldn’t have been more excited. This season was going to be the best. Jeffrey and I were way more experienced. We’d gone to our second summer camp and had spent the fall going to open mats—and we had Coach T! With him in our corner, we were going to crush everybody—and that was exactly how it went in the beginning. But then the unexpected happened.
Our first two meets were on the road, and Jeffrey and I both won easily. Our third match had us pitted against a better squad, the Madison Tigers. We were finally wrestling at home and we had a decent crowd. I couldn’t wait to put my hard work on display in front of my parents and Lexie. Jessica and Anna were in the bleachers too, but Luke and Danielle were going to miss me kicking butt because they were busy studying cows for Lukester’s project. You didn’t mess with Luke when it came to school. I wasn’t mad, but they felt bad and promised to come when they could, which was cool.
That day’s lineup had me wrestling in the fourth bout against some kid named Hogan. There were three seventh graders on our team who went before me. One of them, Louie, rallied to win on a last-second reversal that sent the crowd into a frenzy and really got me psyched before taking the mat.
My match went just the way I’d visualized. I scored three takedowns in the first period and built a 6–2 lead. I started on bottom in the second period and after a quick escape and another slick single-leg takedown, I cranked Hogan over with a tough arm bar and glued his shoulders to the mat. It was my third pin in as many matches.
I glanced into the stands when the referee raised my arm and saw my parents clapping and Lexie smiling. She was the kind of girl who’d want a boyfriend who was good. Well, she had one.
Jeffrey stepped onto the mat next against someone named Oliver. I’d never heard of the kid, not that it mattered. I expected Jeffrey to make quick work of him—but that was not how it went. Jeffrey got in on an early shot but he couldn’t finish it. Oliver fought off the attack and then surprised everyone when he spun behind Jeffrey for the first takedown. I hardly ever got a takedown on Jeffrey in practice, but I wasn’t worried. Jeffrey would reverse this bum and crush him soon enough—or not.
It wasn’t until I saw Jeffrey having a hard time getting away that I started to get a little worried. It took him close to a minute to finally get an escape—and he was lucky he did. The period ended with Jeffrey losing 2–1. The gym went from loud and energized to eerily quiet.
“Let’s go, Jeffrey! This is your period!” I cheered, getting behind him.
Coach T and the rest of the guys yelled encouragement too. We were beginning to sense that he needed it.
Jeffrey chose to start the second period in the down position, and once again he had to work hard to get away, but he managed an escape with about thirty seconds to go, tying the score at 2–2. Ordinarily, this was when Jeffrey picked up the pace. Ordinarily. But he was barely moving. He looked tired and his opponent didn’t. Oliver went after Jeffrey, firing one takedown attempt, and then another, and then another. Jeffrey got warned for stalling when he backed out of bounds.
“Jeffrey, let’s go!” I yelled. This wasn’t like him, and I was getting mad.
“C’mon, Jeffrey! You’ve got this!” the guys cheered.
Jeffrey and Oliver went back to the middle for the restart, and with ten seconds left in the period Jeffrey hit a sick duck under on the edge of the mat and scored a huge takedown to go up 4–2—but this match was far from over. Oliver chose bottom in the last period and Jeffrey kept him down as long as he could, but the Madison Tiger got free and wasted no time in scoring a go-ahead takedown with a nice single-leg of his own. Jeffrey trailed 5–4. Suffering from shock and disbelief, our side of the gym turned silent. Soon the desperate pleas began.
“C’mon, Jeffrey!” Jessica cried. “You can do it!”
“You can do it, Jeffrey!” Anna echoed.
“Jeffrey, move!” I hollered. Now I was angry. He was way better than this.
They rolled out of bounds with twenty seconds to go and Jeffrey came up with a bloody nose. I grabbed the nose plugs from inside our med kit and ran to the corner where Coach T had Jeffrey standing with his head tipped back.
“I know you don’t feel well, but you’ve worked too hard to lose this match,” Coach T said, stuffing the cotton into Jeffrey’s nose. “Forget about everything else. You’ve got to focus on the next twenty seconds and score. This is when you win on mental toughness.”
Jeffrey nodded and turned to go back to the center. “Let’s go, Jeffrey! You’ve got this!” I shouted.
Jeffrey got set in the down position and Oliver lined up on top. The referee blew his whistle and Jeffrey exploded to his feet, but Oliver was ready and brought him back to the mat. Jeffrey didn’t stop. He stood up again, and when Oliver pushed into him and drove him forward, Jeffrey fell to his hands and hit a beautiful switch on the way down—exactly how Coach T had taught us. Exactly how we had drilled it all fall during open mats. Jeffrey got the separation he needed and scooted around behind Oliver. The referee awarded two points for a reversal at the final buzzer. Jeffrey had escaped with a narrow 6–5 win.
Our crowd went crazy. It was an exciting finish, but Jeffrey was lucky. He wrestled like garbage and he knew it. Our parents and friends might’ve been celebrating—but he wasn’t. I knew Jeffrey was pissed—and he should’ve been, after that performance—so I kept my distance and left him alone. Too bad not everyone knew enough to do that. Still, I’ll admit, I didn’t know how pissed he was until later.
When the meet was over I spent a few minutes talking to my parents, and as soon as they left and I was alone, Lexie came storming up to me. “If you ever even try to dump me because of some dumb wrestling match I’ll knock your lights out,” she promised, shaking her fist in my face.
“What’re you talking about?” I said.
“Jeffrey just broke up with Anna. He tried saying his wrestling was suffering because of her. Apparently, she’s too much of a distraction. More like he’s too much of a jerk. I oughta punch you,” she growled.
“Me? I didn’t do anything,” I argued.
“That’s right. You didn’t do anything. Just let your stupid buddy dump the sweetest girl in the whole world—and for no good reason. You’re a jerk.” Lexie spun around and stomped away.
I stood there with my jaw on the floor. Jeffrey breaks up with Anna, and somehow that made me the jerk? How in the world? I couldn’t win with Lexie.
I gathered my sweats and the rest of my clothes from the bench area and went into the locker room. I looked around for Jeffrey but he wasn’t in there.
“Did you see Jeffrey?” I asked Coach T.
“Yeah. I talked to him.”
“He’s pretty upset, huh?”
“He had a bad match. It happens. He said he wasn’t feeling well.” Coach T shrugged. “When you wrestle your worst match and still win, that’s a good sign.”
I nodded. That made sense. But what we didn’t know was that we still hadn’t seen Jeffrey’s worst.
“On the other hand, you looked great out there,” T said.
“Thanks.”
“Keep working hard, Peter. And don’t worry about Jeffrey. He’ll come around.”
It wasn’t often that Mr. T was wrong about something.
This was even worse than a bad hair day. I mean, Anna was the nicest, sweetest girl in the whole wide world, and like, Jeffrey goes and breaks her heart because he didn’t do well in his dumb wrestling match. Like that was supposed to be her fault. Pfft. Whatever.
“He’s gonna come crawling back,” I promised Anna, “and when he does, you better not make it easy. You make him work for it. Make him beg and plead.”
She sniffled and shrugged.
“You know what? On second thought, when he comes crawling back, send him to me. I’ll rip him a new one. He needs to know what an—”
“Okay, Lexie,” Jessica said, cutting me off. “We get it. But your anger isn’t helping right now.”
I huffed, and then, like, Anna started tearing up again. She was in rough shape. Jess and I hugged her. Danielle wasn’t there, so it was up to us to try to comfort her. We did our best—but we couldn’t fix what Jeffrey had broken.
When Vincent finally arrived, the three of us hurried out to his car. We needed to get Anna away from there.
“How’d everything go?” Vincent asked when we opened the back door and climbed inside.
“Terrible,” I snapped. “Guys are stupid, so don’t even try talking to us.”
Vincent glanced at me in the rearview mirror and smirked. He knew I was serious but that I was also joking with him. He was the best. All this stuff with Jessica and her dad just reminded me how lucky Mom and I were to have him.
We gave Anna a ride to Danielle’s because that was where she wanted to go. Jessica and I told her to call or text if she needed anything, but like, I was hoping Danielle could use her praying powers to make things better.
I had Vincent drop me off at the farm because nobody was home at my place. Charlie was busy with the evening milking and Mom had somewhere she needed to be. I decided to walk through the barn before going inside the house. The cows had a way of making me feel better. Their easygoing nature had a calming effect on me. Charlie said that was because the cows liked me and trusted me. It was more than I could say about Jeffrey.
“Hi, Anna,” Mr. Roberts said when he saw me coming through. I was surprised to find him doing chores instead of Charlie, but I didn’t say anything.
“Hi, Mr. Roberts.” I petted the cow near me.
“Danielle and Luke are out by the holding pen, keeping an eye on Suzie. Looks like she’s getting closer to dropping her calf.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”
I headed in that direction, but when I saw Danielle and Luke hunched together, giggling and having fun, I turned and went the other way. I slipped into the house without Mrs. Roberts or Grandma noticing me and went up to Danielle’s bedroom. I didn’t want to bother her. She was busy helping Luke. She didn’t have time for me right now. Mom didn’t have time for me. Jeffrey didn’t have time.
I fought the knot in my throat and wiped my eyes. I sat on Danielle’s bed and opened a book. I chose her room because my guest bedroom was still too empty and lonely and I didn’t need any help with feeling more of that. I read, but I couldn’t tell you what I’d read because my mind was elsewhere. I wished I had homework to keep me busy, but I’d finished the little bit I had before the wrestling match.
“Anna!” Danielle said, surprised when she found me in her room. “I didn’t know you were up here.”
“You and Luke were busy. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“We were observing Suzie. She’s definitely getting closer to having her calf. Luke wants me to call him if I see any activity.” She giggled. “He’s so excited.”
Danielle sat on the foot of the bed and began brushing her hair. “Everything about the farm is so brand-new to him.” She giggled again. “He’s like a little kid.”
I eyed her suspiciously. She stared at the floor, lost in space as she pulled the brush through her hair over and over. Did she have feelings for Luke? No way. Just the thought made the knot in my throat tighten. I couldn’t talk to her about it—not now. I hid behind my book.
Danielle never noticed. Mindlessly, she rambled on and on about Luke and his project. She barely stopped talking, but she never asked about the match—or me. She didn’t have time for me. There were no best-friend-slash-sister instincts working for her today. She was feeling something else.
I tried running more and eating healthy for three weeks, and I only dropped two pounds. That plan wasn’t going to get me to 113 fast enough, so I started eating and drinking less. In one week’s time I lost three more pounds, but I was miserable.
Anna didn’t deserve that. I did her a favor. I wasn’t in the mood to be any kind of boyfriend, but even so, I wasn’t planning on dumping her. My match against Oliver had me messed up. I almost lost. I was supposed to trash that kid. I was supposed to be challenging for the varsity spot. But that was never going to happen with the way I wrestled. I felt weak and exhausted out there. Maybe I was getting sick. That’s what my parents and everyone else assumed.
So Mom made chicken noodle soup when we got home. Asher sat at the table, ready to have some with me.
“Ree win. He wessle,” he told Mom when she brought the soup out.
“Yes, I know,” Mom said. “He did great.”
“No, I didn’t,” I growled.
Mom stopped, startled by my tone. She stood still, holding my bowl.
I pushed back from the table. “I’m not hungry.” I got up and went to my room.
“Ree not hungy,” I heard Asher saying. “No soup. No no. Ree not hungy.”
“No soup,” Mom repeated, and sighed.
I lay down on my bed. I felt like garbage, but it wasn’t because I was getting sick. It was because I hadn’t eaten much. I was down five pounds, but I still had three more to go. The kid I wrestled today wasn’t great, but he was bigger and stronger. If I made the weight I’d be against smaller guys. I’d be the bigger and stronger guy. I’d be on varsity, and then things would be better. If I made the weight…
