IV. Opening the "V" Can (Vivian, that is)
"You take care of this...use your 'magic petite powers'."
Today I've lost count of the anti-Rick points scored, and I have a feeling that I'm about to witness another one. As Ms. Kwan, my English teacher, goes through the names for attendance, she reads the name "Richard Murray", and goose bumps immediately cover my body. I'm trying my best not to focus on that. I remind myself that I'm excited about this class because of the assignment we have due: we're supposed to recite a quote that inspires us. Finding a handful of quotes wasn't painful at all, but choosing which one to share with the class was tedious. I'm sensitive about things like this, especially since Ms. Kwan wants us to explain why we've chosen our quotes. I'm a mushy person, so my explanations are always deep, but I decide that's better than it being boring. I feel as if I'm going to have the longest quote in the entire class, but it was my favorite of all of the ones I've found.
When it's my turn to present, which is right after Emma, I move quickly to the front of the room and face my audience. I have two goals in mind: to read enthusiastically, and to not tug at my rope braids. The kids remind me of a graveyard of tombstones: some are sitting up perfectly straight, while the others are leaning over, lopsided and wanting to collapse. To my surprise, Rick isn't among them. Oh well; he must've gone to the restroom. I read my quote by Marianne Williamson, "Our deepest fear…" with a solid, inflecting tone, and pause in appropriate places to season the effect of the quote:
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be?
"This quote speaks to me." I say when I'm finished. "I live by it every day."
"Very well read." Ms. Kwan starts applause, and the rest of the class picks it up. I take my seat next to Emma, feeling satisfied.
"Okay." Ms. Kwan says. "Who wants to go next?"
"I'll go." Says Spinner, and he trots to the front of the room. He clears his throat. "Okay, so we were asked to find a verse that speaks to our hearts, and this verse, by Kid Elrick, speaks to mine." He unfolds a crinkled paper in his hand and reads it:
I wants to find me a girl to love,
A girl with wealth and class.
But most of all, I wants me a girl
With a bootylicious—
"Enough, Gavin!" Ms. Kwan interrupts him before he can say "ass." Real mature, that Spinner kid. Everyone bursts into laughter as he returns to his seat. "Who's next?" Ms. Kwan continues.
"May I?" says a voice from behind.
I nearly jump at the sound, and turn around to see Rick slowly rising out of his chair. He walks steadily to the front of the class, and everyone watches him, a loud silence filling the room. He must have snuck into the room in the middle of presentations. And perhaps avoiding confrontations from other students.
"Um, I'd like to read you some thoughts from Mahatma Gandhi." Rick tells us.
I catch Emma from the corner of my vision rolling her eyes.
Rick reads:
The weak can never forgive.
Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.
It is the quality of the brave, not the cowardly—
Rick is also interrupted: by a paper ball as it lands on his chest and falls at his side. The students are laughing again.
"Gavin!" Ms. Kwan yells at Spinner, and she sends him to the principal's office. Rick returns to his seat as everyone continues to laugh, head bowed and scowl present.
At first I'm a little annoyed at Spinner's cute little stunt because he interrupted Rick, but then my light bulb clicks. So that's why he wanted to return to Degrassi! Inspired by Mahatma Gandhi much? Maybe even the Veggie Tales' version of Jonah?
I don't have much of a brain cramp anymore.
"Vivian!"
I'm at my locker loading up my backpack when Queenie comes over to me. "Are you okay? I'm sorry if Ivory or I said anything to offend you at lunch today."
"Don't apologize." I close the door to my locker. "I just had a brain cramp about today. Now that it's been cleared up, I'm prepared for my next one: from homework."
"Fair enough." Queenie remarks. "Look, I want us to go to The Dot to make up for Ivory's mess."
I laugh. "Listen to you! Ivory's mess? And you don't blame yourself for anything?"
"Ha!" Queenie scoffs. "All I did was ask a question! You're the one who flipped out!"
"Don't push your luck, girl." I shove Queenie. "Now take me to this Dot place."
We leave from the main entrance of Degrassi and cross the crosswalk on the sidewalk right at the curb of the school. We walk down the road via sidewalk to the end of the street, which is nothing but grassy fields and vacant lots, until we turn the corner right.
A small building comes into focus, with all of the windows and doors tinted, making the place look shadowy and secretive, just like America's Applebee's or Chili's restaurant.
"Low and behold: The Dot." Queenie says. "A lot of kids from school are seen here."
"Fun." I say. "Would you like to go in first?"
"With pleasure." Queenie opens the door and I follow her in. The smell of crispy French fries, hamburger buns, and fried chicken tickles my nostrils, and my mouth waters, even though I'm not hungry enough for a full meal. Sure; let's pretend The Dot is Applebee's for now.
To my astonishment, Spinner approaches us. "Ladies," he says, "if only you had showed up the other day when I was working; you'd have better service."
"Really?" Queenie replies with a smirk. "Should I tell one of your co-workers you've insulted them?"
I smirk as Spinner backs up. "Why not? They know I'm the best waiter working here."
"Uh, Spinner, remember your girlfriend?" Paige walks over.
"Spinner was just showing us some hospitality." Queenie replies. "You have nothing to worry about."
"Hey!" Spinner says.
"No offense, Spinner." I say. "It's just a matter of respect; nothing against you personally."
"Don't worry: he gets it." Paige grabs Spinner's arm and they sit at a table with two other people who also look like a couple. I recognize one of the two as the jock guy from the other day. I've also seen the girl before-with Paige most of the time. She has dark skin and brown hair. Emma's also with them; her plane-Jane, conservative look makes her an outlier in Paige's high-fashioned clique.
We're seated at a table for two, coincidentally across from Paige's table, and next to the Alex girl's table. She's seated across from a guy with a black leather jacket and a faded cap on backwards. I assume they're dating. A waiter in an all-black uniform approaches us and takes our order, and I ask for a strawberry milkshake; Queenie asks for a large order of fries.
"Can I have some of your shake?" she asks me.
"Only if you let me eat some of your fries," I reply.
"Agreed," we both lock pinkies.
The Dot gets five stars for fast service as both of our requests come in less than five minutes. I develop an affair with my shake: the taste is thick, rich and fruity, and it's cool and smooth as it goes down my throat. Five stars for good milkshakes too! Queenie's shoving fries into her mouth, rolling her eyes as she chews them. "You don't know what you're missing with these fries." She says.
"Same with this milkshake," I reply.
We both sigh. Hesitantly, we trade food. Queenie asks for another straw, and stabs it into my shake before she takes a sip. Her eyes grow wide as she takes a long pause, and at first I think she has a brain freeze until she speaks. "Ohhhhh, this shake is heaven in a glass!" She proceeds to gulp until I tell her to save some for me. The fries are well-seasoned and fresh, but they just don't beat the milkshake. Four stars.
All goes smoothly at The Dot—then Rick walks in. He heads to the counter, sits on a stool and orders something.
"What's he doing here again?" Paige asks in her sharp, snooty tone.
"He probably came to see his new crush: Emma." The Alex girl chimes in.
I turn around. Huh?
"What's she talking about?" Paige echoes my thoughts.
"Nothing," Emma answers, like a little girl getting in trouble for placing her hands in the cookie jar. "Rick talked to me. It was no big deal."
"It didn't seem that way to me." Alex turns back around.
"If you're starting to wimp out and feel sorry for that psycho"—Paige says.
"—I'm not. Honest." Emma says.
I squint at Queenie. What could Rick and Emma have been talking about? Whatever: it wasn't a friendly exchange surely. Queenie shrugs and proceeds to drink.
"Okay, let's trade. I miss my soul mate." I take the shake back and sip from my straw. I can taste Florida, Hawaii, and Jamaica all at once: it's so tropical.
When I hear a thud and a splat, my reverie ends. I turn and see everyone staring at Rick on the floor. He spilled—I think his coffee—all over himself. Most of it, thank goodness, hit the floor. If Rick had been burned, everyone would've known.
He stands up, infuriated (who wouldn't be if they spilled hot coffee?). Rick angry, however, is terrifying. His dark eyebrows nearly form a uni-brow over his glasses, and he stands up, glaring at Emma.
"That's it!" The boy with the cap stands up and rushes at Rick. He grabs him. "It's on." He says and pushes him out of the door.
The next thing I see is like a chain reaction: the entire Degrassi Gang ditches their food and follows Cap Boy out of The Dot, scrambling about like a group of wild animals.
Queenie and I watch the commotion; jaws dropped, and then look at each other. "I'm worried about how that'll turn out." She says. "They could seriously hurt Rick."
"Well then let's do something!" I leap out of my chair and rush to the counter. Queenie follows the group outside. "Can I have a coffee to go?" I ask the person behind the counter.
"Sure." The coffee doesn't take long, and I make sure the lid on the container is secure before I pursue the group outside. As I'm walking, I call my dad and tell him that something serious is going to happen to a kid in my class, and that I'll bring him home with me so he can check him for injuries. Listening to shouts from kids as my guide, I stumble across a crowd of people in the back alley of the neighborhood right behind The Dot.
I use my magic petite powers—expeditiously now that I'm holding hot coffee, to work my way to the front of the crowd. I see that Rick, a few feet away, is doubled over and coughing. Cap Boy is standing in front of him. Clearly he just knocked the wind out of Rick.
Finally, he stands up. "Who wants the next shot?" he taunts. "Spinner?"
Spinner starts to move forward, but Paige stops him. Instead, Alex is the one who says "Me!" and rushes towards Rick. Emma, however, rushes towards Alex and grabs her wrist just as she balls it into a fist. She's blocking her path to Rick. I can't hear the words they exchange, but eventually Alex and Cap Boy walk away, as does everyone else as Emma glares at the crowd. As they disperse, Queenie is revealed and she walks over to me. That was impressive. I think.
"I'll see you tomorrow." She says. "You take care of this." She puts a hand on my shoulder. "Use your 'magic petite powers'." She walks away.
Now all who's left is Emma, Rick, and me. I take a deep breath: I can't believe I'm doing this. Ignoring the sweat beading up on my face, I move towards the two. Both of them are staring at me, and that's when I realize that Rick's glasses are gone. His hazel eyes are pained and pleading. He looks pitiful, still hunched over from the punch he just took from Cap Boy.
I fish for words to say. "I-I called my dad on my way over here." I say. "He's had first aid training, and I thought he could check you over to make sure you're not seriously hurt." I look at Emma, who's staring blankly at me. "I told him we'd be at the bus stop a block from the Dot, so we'd better get a move on. You coming, Emma?" I clench my free hand into a fist, which is trembling from the excitement of the previous phenomenon.
"Can you stand?" Emma says sharply at Rick.
Wincing, he moves from the cardboard fence and walks forward. I lead the way out of the alley and onto the front street which is across from The Dot. I begin to walk down the block, pausing every so often to make sure Rick and Emma follow. I turn the corner left, and find the bus stop. The three of us sit on the bench with Rick in the middle. A relief washes over me as soon as we rest. I've been feeling guilty having Rick move around like that after he just took a blow to the stomach.
We sit amidst an orange sky. None of us say anything as we watch the cars flash by on the street—well, Emma and I watch the cars. Rick is staring down at his shoes. I steal glances at him, and each time he's zoned out, his eyes a million miles from Toronto. I imagine the guy has never been humiliated like this before in his entire life. He clearly isn't in the mood to talk, even though there's so much I want to ask him. I stay a good sport and leave him alone.
Use your magic petite powers, Vivian. Now the sound of nothing but the cars on the road is beginning to drive me insane. I want to do something to break this awkward silence. I suddenly find parts of Marianne Williamson's quote going through my mind. "Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure... Actually, who are you not to be?"
"Here." I say, and Rick snaps his head up. I take his hand, his moist clammy hand, and give him the coffee cup I bought for him earlier. He's frowning at me, probably baffled at this random act of kindness I've committed. I shrug. "Think of it as me returning a favor."
Rick's mouth opens as he prepares to speak.
"Don't thank me: just drink." I tell him.
And that he does. Emma is leaning forward on the bench watching him as I sit clasping my hands together. I've never felt so awkward than right now. I have to break the ice; I have to ask a question to get Rick to talk. "What happened to your glasses?" I say.
"Jay smashed them." Emma answers instead.
"Jay?" I echo.
"The guy with the baseball cap you saw." Emma explains.
I nod as I look down at my watch. "My father should be here soon." I say.
Like magic, Dad's blue mini-van pulls up in front of the bus stop. The window moves down and reveals my dad, a stout man with brown skin and hazel eyes. What do you know; there's no need to make painful conversation after all.
"Come on." I say to my classmates as I move towards the van. "Hi, dad. This is Rick and Emma."
Emma smiles and waves; Rick gives a half smirk and nods.
"Nice to meet you both." Dad says. "You two girls sit in the back seat, and Rick, I want you to sit up front."
We do what he asks, and soon we're off to my house. A part from my father asking Rick questions, nobody says anything during the ride. I think we're all taking in the bizarre turn of events that just happened in less than an hour.
The evening moved pretty swiftly. Nothing serious happened to Rick as my dad checked him over. Afterwards Rick called his mom to pick him up. Soon after he left, Emma's mom arrived for her. Now the house just has us: me and dad. It's been this way for almost two years with the exception of my older brother, who's attending his second year at Brown University.
Dad's sitting on our black sofa watching our flat screen. It's a quarter 'til ten, and I'm in my charcoal and blue Powerpuff Girl pajamas. I join dad on the couch and lean against his chest. He puts his arm around me. "Today was quite the adventure." I say.
"I would think so." Dad remarks. "You brought in two new faces, and by what that Rick kid told me, then it's definitely been a long day for him."
"It has." I look up at him. "What do you think of him, dad?"
"Who, Rick?" Dad says. "He seems like a nice kid. He's a little on the quiet side, but he's definitely very bright."
"Interesting." I say. "Everybody at school hates him."
"Why is that?"
"According to the students there, he was responsible for this girl's comatose." I explain.
"Who's the girl?" Dad asks.
"I don't know." I say. "Apparently a good friend to a group of kids at school. I don't think she's there anymore—"
"—Then Rick has no one to hurt." He says. "I spoke with his mother: according to her, he's seeing counselors at school and going through therapy. Clearly he's not very stable."
"The students don't care about that." I sit up and tell dad the entire story about the student body trying to get rid of Rick. I tell him about the ribbon campaign that Emma started and how it publicized Rick's abuse. Then I tell him about all of the times I've seen Rick harassed by students in the hallways and why I believe he came back to Degrassi.
"I think he knows what he did is wrong," I say, "and he wants people to forgive him, and if what you say about Rick going through therapy is true, I think he's trying to prove to everyone that he's not a terrible person."
"What about you?" Dad asks. "Were you a spectator in Rick's campaign? Did you participate in pushing him against lockers?"
"What? No way!" I say. "I didn't know Rick before, so I haven't seen this 'psycho' that everyone claims he is."
"Has he caused any harm since he came back?" Dad asks.
"No." I say. "Not that anyone would let him."
Dad cups my chin. "You did the right thing by not giving in to peer pressure like everyone else. I want you to forget about what everyone else says about him and use your judgment only. Can you reach a conclusion about him based on your influence only? On what you've seen?"
I close my eyes and think about the few times I've seen Rick, and compare the person I've witnessed to the monster that others describe him as.
"Yes." I open my eyes. "I can."
I find Emma at her locker the next morning. She's in a lime green, slim fitting pullover and black pants. I call her name as I walk over. She turns around and I hold out a dollar. "It's for the ribbon you gave me yesterday." I clarify.
"Keep it." She says. "I don't care anymore."
"You mean you don't care about ostracizing Rick anymore."
Emma pauses, looking over at me.
"Look, I couldn't help but notice you're not hanging out with Paige anymore," I continue, "and, no offense, but you really don't belong with her or her friends."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Emma says sharply.
"A good thing," I answer, "or do you want to be compared to girls whose heads are stuck so far up their butts they're too good to step up and do the right thing?"
"That may be true," Emma retorts, "but this doesn't change my opinion at all about Rick. And besides, they have a good reason not to step up: he hurt their friend."
"Maybe so," I shrug, "but I can tell just by your demeanor that you're not as shallow as Paige."
"How so?" Emma folds her arms.
"Because I actually like you." I say. "You can be a little annoying sometimes, but you're a good person all around." I chuckle a little.
Shockingly Emma smiles. "Fine. I'll admit I deserve that. Sheesh, you're more of a goody two shoes than I am."
I finger my braid. "Well I'm just—"
"No seriously." Emma says. "You made me look like a jerk when you gave Rick another cup of coffee after I tripped him."
"That was you?!" I say. "Then you were a jerk! He could've burned himself!"
"Thanks for reminding me." Emma rolls her eyes. "Look Rick wants to thank you. He already thanked me earlier, so…be prepared if he approaches you."
I nod. "See you in class."
"Right." Emma walks away.
Emma Nelson: I'm starting to like her a little bit more for being able to stand up to Rick in front of all of her peers. It's admirable. I smile to myself, then remember what she said about Rick looking for me, and my stomach cramps. Oh no: what if he thinks I have a crush on him and gets the wrong idea? Nah, Rick just talked to Emma, and besides, he should know how lucky he is to even have someone concerned about him, let alone think about a new girlfriend.
Oh my goodness; I just had a bitch moment.
I make my way to my locker to dismount all of my items except for my textbook for chemistry class, and that's when I hear his soft voice.
"Vivian?"
I take a deep breath and turn to my left to face Rick. He's wearing a red and white-checked button down with a t-shirt the blend of a charcoal and a forest green. He's also wearing blue jeans with gray sneakers. The surprise is his glasses; the lenses are larger and the rims are a lot thicker than his previous ones. They're definitely from the Saved by the Bell days.
"Hi," I greet him. "New glasses?"
Rick chuckles and a smile cuts across his face. "They're from the sixth grade." He replies.
"Wow, really?" I chuckle too.
He looks down and nods. "I um—I wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday." He inches closer, and I can smell him. Not that I expected him to smell bad, but I didn't expect him to smell…pleasant. Either his deodorant or his cologne bathed him in a scent of cinnamon and spice.
"No problem." I reply. "It was the right thing to do." It takes every ounce of my willpower to not lean into Rick and inhale him.
"You didn't really have to do all of that." He says.
"I know." I say. "Just like Jay didn't have to humiliate you like that. Speaking of which, is he the one responsible for your glasses?"
Rick holds his head down and nods.
"Seriously," I lighten my voice, "what happened to you yesterday was uncalled for, and I couldn't just sit there in The Dot and pretend that it wasn't happening."
Rick nods again. "Thank you, Vivian."
Now's your chance, Vivian. I think. Ask him what you've been dying to know these past few days.
"Rick?" I say.
"Yeah?"
Now I look down at my shoes. "I—I'm new here, so I don't fully understand what everyone says about you…" I'm terrible at this. "About you putting this Terri girl in a coma…is that true?" I try to make my voice as gentle as possible.
Rick is giving me a hard stare. "Yes." He answers in a low, soft voice. He shakes his head. "I didn't mean for it to happen." His gaze is fixed on an invisible sight, probably painful memories from the past. "I let my anger get the better of me last year, and it cost me Terri." His voice shakes a little.
As much as I hate to, I need to ask him more questions. "But how did it happen?" Again, I make sure my voice isn't pushy.
Rick closes his eyes. "I…was yelling at Terri while gripping her arms tightly. I was so angry that I pushed her down, and she—she fell and hit her head on a cinder block." He grabs the strap on his book bag with both hands and bites his lip. "When she didn't move, I thought she was dead. I remember thinking that I was going to go to jail and ruin my future, but when I found out she was in a coma, I visited the hospital every day until Terri's father told the hospital staff not to let me in." Rick's staring in the distance once again.
"So…you left Degrassi afterwards?" I say.
"I was expelled." Rick answers. "It's the best case scenario to happen to me; for someone to have put such a sweet, beautiful person near death…I felt relieved and remorseful at the same time."
I frown, taking in all of what he says. "So what made you decide to return?"
"To prove once and for all that I really have changed in the months following the incident." Rick replies, "And to return to a school that I really do enjoy…or used to. I didn't realize how many people actually hated me for what I did, but now that I know, I want them to see who I really am: not a horrible guy who hurts girls."
I feel goose bumps prickling across my arms. I was right about him. "Look Rick," I say, "I'm not here to judge you from last year because I wasn't here to see this 'psycho' people claim you are." I'm fidgeting one of my braids, now two days old. "But what I can do, based on what I've learned being at Degrassi, is judge you based on the person I see now, standing in front of me. I'm relieved to say that, just by your demeanor, I can tell that you sincerely are trying to change. Unfortunately, this isn't a popular opinion at Degrassi." I sigh.
"It will be." Rick replies. "Someday."
"I agree." I say. "But not today. I'm not saying that it's right for people to harass you, but…give them time."
Rick nods as the bell rings for class. "Crap!" I say. "I'm late for chemistry!" It's my first tardy of the year.
"With Ms. H?" Rick asks.
"Yeah."
"Me too." He says. "W-would you wanna—"
"—Sure." I walk to class with Rick.
Who else will?