Free Last December by Matt Beam Page B

had no idea why someone would be coming to talk to me, so I said, “Um … yeah,” and the class laughed at me a bit, and Mr. Off said, “Can you come here, please?”
    So I got up, and he said, “Bring your stuff with you,” and a couple of guys at the back went “woooooooo” like I was in trouble, so I just stared over at them like they were dead meat, which made them pretty much stop.
    When I got to the door, Mr. Off said, “Follow this young lady to the office,” and I said, “Why?” and he said, “The vice principal wants to talk to you,” and a couple of students must have heard because they started whispering, and Mr. Off looked over my shoulder and stared them down, and then I left with the “young lady,” who was actually probably a junior or something, and we were walking for a bit when she said, “So do you like Mr. Off?” and I said, “He’s okay,” and then she looked at my forehead and said, “Aren’t you the kid who Bobby McIntyre beat up?” and I said, “No,” because he didn’t beat me up, Sam, and then she smirked and didn’t say anything, which sort of pissed me off but it wasn’t like I could do anything about it.
    When we finally got to the office, she told me to wait on this bench and another kid was there who had long hair that went right over his eyes, and he turned toward me and grinned like he was stoned or something, and a woman sitting at a desk across from us was typing something on a typewriter, and it felt like I was sitting there forever when suddenly the woman stoppedtyping and said, “Who are you waiting for?” and I said, “Who, me? Um … I think the VP,” and she said, “What’s your name?” and I said, “Steven Sza—” and she said, “Steven! Why didn’t you say you were here? Your mother wants you to go home right now,” and I said, “Why?” and she said, “I don’t know, Steven, but she insisted you get there as soon as possible,” and I shrugged and said, “Okay,” and she pointed at the door and said, “Go!”
    So I went as fast as I could right out of the office, down the hall, and out the doors without even getting my coat, and I couldn’t figure out what could be wrong, because my synapses weren’t working so well, because they were concentrating on getting me home. I ran as hard as I could and I was basically hyper-ventilating when I slipped on the ice turning up our street, and I caught myself with my hands and sort of scraped them on the ice, but I kept on running, and then I basically body-checked the front door of the apartment like I was Rick Vaive, captain of the Leafs, and I ran up the stairs as quick as I could, and Mrs. Crapenter was standing in her blue old-person shoes, right there in front of our apartment.
    “There you are, Steven!” she said, and I said, “What are you talking about?” and she said, “That’s not a very gentlemanly question,” and I didn’t care, so I said, “Where’s Ma?” and she said, “Your mother’s gone to the hospital … she was having contractions, and you were supposed to go straight there,” and I said, “Is she okay? What are contractions?” and she said, “Hasn’t your mother … Oh, never mind. Your mother’s body is trying to squeeze the baby out, but it’s much too early and could be very dangerous for … well, for both of them,” and I said, “Oh,”and she said, “You should really go to the hospital—right now!” and I looked at her for a sec, and I just felt like something funny was going on, so I asked, “Is that what Ma told you to tell me?” and she looked down at her blue old-person shoes and said, “No, Steven … she didn’t have a chance, but I’m sure that’s what she’d want, she didn’t have time. … I heard the whole thing and—”
    “You are just a stupid snoop,” I yelled, and I turned and ran down the stairs and burst outside and ran out to St. Clair Avenue, and I ran and ran and ran toward the hospital, but then I finally slowed