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Her name was written on the board in his math class with the people who needed to make up tests. She had three check marks next to her name. That meant she'd missed four tests! He wondered what she was doing. He wondered if she was still going to graduate. Not if she keeps this up, he thought. That oughtta wake her up.His imagination began going, and he pictured Jen in a rehab center in a few years, her life in shambles. He wondered about that Kasey guy. He was willing to bet he gave her drugs all the time. He knew she probably had sex with him. She had started dressing differently too; Matt wondered if they were his clothes. She always wore these really baggy clothes, like corduroy pants and t-shirts over long-sleeved shirts. She thinks she's such a hippie, thought Matt disgustedly.But he was genuinely worried about her, more as time wore on and she stayed like that. He wanted to call her and ask her what was going on, but when he did she was never home. He couldn't bring himself to. "Why're you telling me this?" Because I want to make sure that son-of-a-bitch pays for what he did to me, even if means you get off easy."The bell rang. I studied the wad of TP with disgust. "It's time to go."Even he was smart enough to know I didn't mean to class. I dropped the tattle-tale TP into the toilet, gave the flush lever a hard kick. Serenaded by rushing water, I washed his scum off my hands at the sink and went on my way, leaving His Dumbness to contemplate his options. Even if he didn't take my advice right away I was sure he'd get caught. Now that I'd spelled out in words of one syllable exactly what he was facing I was confident he'd be anxious to cut a deal.Surprisingly, from there Tuesday went on pretty much as usual, except Heather wasn't in school. "Some kind of flu" was the story. There was speculation that she'd had a hot weekend with Mongo and was suffering a delayed reaction. But Heather was right about Matt. He was discreet, responding to questions with a.
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