"Dear Mr. Dimitri---"
He turned the paper over a few times as if expecting more words to appear on the page from some hidden place. But even these three words alone had made his palms begin to sweat. He felt a chill down his spine at the thought of reentering that period of his life after so long, off how it could begin again as subtly as it had the last time. For he was standing alone on his driveway holding a piece of cheap stationary paper, blank but for three words and a torn envelope and yet he felt like he was holding his crate of old books and school papers from Upton Sinclair and standing in his classroom again, trapped between Grace's pleading face and Lily Sammler's stern look of disapproval.
He tore the letter up angrily and stuffed it into the mailbox. He walked back into the house, threw his jacket on the couch and grabbed the phone from the kitchen. He dialed his friend Gary's number to tell him he couldn't make it to the reading but no one answered. He dialed Chris's number but she wasn't there either. He left her a message saying he'd caught the flu and wouldn't be able to meet up with her that night. Then he unhooked his phone, grabbed his last bottle of wine from the refrigerator, found his copy of "The Bicycle Thief" under a pile of newspapers and headed to his bedroom.
Grace sat on the edge of the bathtub and held her hands over her ears to block out Jessie's voice from outside. "Come on Grace," she pleaded, knocking on the door "Will you please let me in?" "Go away!" Grace yelled, wishing Jessie would fracture her fragile hand on the door and leave her alone. "I'm sorry, Grace, how many times do I have to say it before you believe me?" "None, because I never will!" Jessie groaned. "I told you it was an accident, it just slipped out! I never meant to say anything." Grace got up from the bathtub and threw open the bathroom door. Jessie stood looking at her desperately, her face streaked with tears. But Grace felt no sympathy for Jessie this time; instead she glared at her with the cruelest look she could manage and said "Well what if I just accidentally told your dad the real reason you spend so much time at Katie's house?" The sadness in Jessie's eyes turned to hatred. "You wouldn't!" "Wouldn't I?" They stared each other in silence for several seconds, each waiting for the other to back down. Neither dared to breath until Zoe walked up to them and told Grace she had to pee. Jessie turned and ran up to the attic as Grace went to her room and slammed the door, her jaw and her fists both clenched in fury. She grabbed her Chekov book from the dresser and threw it against the wall, watching it fall face down onto a pile of laundry. She could hear Jessie sobbing upstairs and for a minute her face softened. She knew it wasn't really Jessie's fault that Lily had followed her to Mr. Dimitri's house; her mom would've found out one way or another, without Jessie's help. Still, she didn't think Jessie would mention the poetry reading to anyone, least of all Lily. But what really infuriated her was that her mom didn't trust her enough to think she wouldn't go after Mr. Dimitri after all this time just because Jessie happened to say that he would be reading his poetry at a bookstore later that night. And the worst part was that she was in trouble now again and for no reason. She'd been a coward, had left him a letter that wasn't even a letter and driven off before he could figure out she was there, and now she wasn't allowed to leave the house unsupervised for three weeks.
He turned the paper over a few times as if expecting more words to appear on the page from some hidden place. But even these three words alone had made his palms begin to sweat. He felt a chill down his spine at the thought of reentering that period of his life after so long, off how it could begin again as subtly as it had the last time. For he was standing alone on his driveway holding a piece of cheap stationary paper, blank but for three words and a torn envelope and yet he felt like he was holding his crate of old books and school papers from Upton Sinclair and standing in his classroom again, trapped between Grace's pleading face and Lily Sammler's stern look of disapproval.
He tore the letter up angrily and stuffed it into the mailbox. He walked back into the house, threw his jacket on the couch and grabbed the phone from the kitchen. He dialed his friend Gary's number to tell him he couldn't make it to the reading but no one answered. He dialed Chris's number but she wasn't there either. He left her a message saying he'd caught the flu and wouldn't be able to meet up with her that night. Then he unhooked his phone, grabbed his last bottle of wine from the refrigerator, found his copy of "The Bicycle Thief" under a pile of newspapers and headed to his bedroom.
Grace sat on the edge of the bathtub and held her hands over her ears to block out Jessie's voice from outside. "Come on Grace," she pleaded, knocking on the door "Will you please let me in?" "Go away!" Grace yelled, wishing Jessie would fracture her fragile hand on the door and leave her alone. "I'm sorry, Grace, how many times do I have to say it before you believe me?" "None, because I never will!" Jessie groaned. "I told you it was an accident, it just slipped out! I never meant to say anything." Grace got up from the bathtub and threw open the bathroom door. Jessie stood looking at her desperately, her face streaked with tears. But Grace felt no sympathy for Jessie this time; instead she glared at her with the cruelest look she could manage and said "Well what if I just accidentally told your dad the real reason you spend so much time at Katie's house?" The sadness in Jessie's eyes turned to hatred. "You wouldn't!" "Wouldn't I?" They stared each other in silence for several seconds, each waiting for the other to back down. Neither dared to breath until Zoe walked up to them and told Grace she had to pee. Jessie turned and ran up to the attic as Grace went to her room and slammed the door, her jaw and her fists both clenched in fury. She grabbed her Chekov book from the dresser and threw it against the wall, watching it fall face down onto a pile of laundry. She could hear Jessie sobbing upstairs and for a minute her face softened. She knew it wasn't really Jessie's fault that Lily had followed her to Mr. Dimitri's house; her mom would've found out one way or another, without Jessie's help. Still, she didn't think Jessie would mention the poetry reading to anyone, least of all Lily. But what really infuriated her was that her mom didn't trust her enough to think she wouldn't go after Mr. Dimitri after all this time just because Jessie happened to say that he would be reading his poetry at a bookstore later that night. And the worst part was that she was in trouble now again and for no reason. She'd been a coward, had left him a letter that wasn't even a letter and driven off before he could figure out she was there, and now she wasn't allowed to leave the house unsupervised for three weeks.