NORA STARED AT THE PILLOW AS IF SHE'D NEVER SEEN ONE before in her life. Adjusting her John Lennon glasses, she said, "So what do you want to know?"
Her blond pageboy haircut framed a sulky face. I still wasn't sure I liked her, but Kade had made the call. I had to trust it was for a good reason.
When he didn't answer, she forged ahead. "Well, as you know, I was a definite for valedictorian until a few months ago. I don't think anyone really appreciates the intense amount of work it takes. I'm the one who studies for tests while everyone else has a life. I'm the one who has to give up extracurricular activities to carve out more time for schoolwork. If I get a lousy grade, I'm screwed. Valedictorians can't afford mistakes."
A part of me admired Nora for her hard work. The other part thought she was crazy for trying. I'd made a resolution to get straight A's once. It lasted about two weeks until I realized that sleep deprivation wasn't my thing.
"I used to have a 4.375 GPA. Then came the ludicrous PE requirement. I rearranged my schedule so I could get Mrs. Cunningham. She gave A's to anyone with two feet. But the first week of class, she tripped over a soccer ball and broke her leg." She groaned dramatically. "So they brought in her replacement. A frustrated, wannabe dancer to teach jock sports, can you believe it? Madame, she called herself. No last name, just Madame."
"I bet she's from Detroit, not France," Richie mumbled. His head jerked up in surprise when I laughed.
"Madame Detroit. A good name for a poseur," Kade said.
"Yeah, well, Madame Detroit had it in for me from the beginning." Nora paused, waiting.
I was the one to give in. "Why?"
"She assumed I picked the class because it was an easy A."
"You did," I said. She shot me a look and I backtracked. "But that doesn't give her the right to pick on you."
Nora forgave me with a smile, then tucked a lock of hair behind her silver frames. "I tried, believe it or not. When she said run, I ran. When she said shoot, I shot. I always showed up, which was better than some of the other kids in the class. But I couldn't get my grade above a C minus. When I went to see her, she had the nerve to say, 'Try harder, dahling. Athletics is about zee effort.'"
Richie laughed at the imitation, then covered his mouth with his hand.
Nora frowned. "It wasn't funny. I'm waiting to hear from Stanford. Do you know what a C minus could do to my chances for admission? I mean, my mother went to Stanford, my dad's father, my aunt. It's a family tradition. I've gotten a pair of Stanford PJs every Christmas since I was born."
Wow, talk about pressure. Her parents had her future all wrapped up with a shiny bow before she was old enough to say thank you.
"Now it's just up to me," she added.
Kade shook his head in disbelief. "After six AP classes, including physics and British lit, it must've really sucked that something as stupid as a gym class could pull you down."
I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed his familiarity with Nora's academic history, but they didn't seem fazed. Or maybe they'd already accepted that he knew everything.
"That stinks," Richie agreed. He drew his legs to his chest, echoing Kade's movements.
"My parents were horrified with the grade and even more disgusted when I couldn't get it changed."
"It's just one bad grade," I said. "I'm sure Stanford doesn't expect perfection. It was only a dumb gym class, right? Not something important like calculus."
Nora gave me a look that seemed to say, What do you know about getting into a top-notch college? "It's more than that, OK? My parents are busy people. They don't have time for high school drama. As long as I follow the program, everything's copacetic."
"Will they love you less if you don't do well?" Kade asked.
Nora looked disturbed by his question. "That's not what I mean. It's complicated, with my sister's suicide and all. I don't see any reason to add to their unhappiness."
"But it wasn't your fault," Richie said.
Nora rolled her eyes. "Of course not. It was her idiotic decision. But now it's my job to keep things smooth around the house. My parents are hardly ever around, anyway, but when they are, we don't waste time arguing over report cards."
"That's because you do well," Kade said.
Nora nodded. "Exactly." Then she blinked twice, her mouth pulling into a frown. She looked like she wanted to say more. Instead, she picked up the pillow and flung it like a Frisbee. It spun through the air, landing at my feet.
