Need a playlist for your reading? Check out the Anarchy Road Playlist on Spotify!180Please respect copyright.PENANAYb6nTsE2Kc
Chapter 4— A Bible and an Open Flame
180Please respect copyright.PENANATElor6hnaT
The doors of the library clicked closed as we entered, shutting out the noise in the hallways. There was a line of students waiting at the front desk while an old librarian pulled textbooks from shelves.
“Here we are. The library. I don’t suggest actually looking through the books. A lot of them are marked out or drawn all over with dicks.”
“Noted.”
Jenny leaned over the librarian counter and peered across the line of students, her eyes landing on a specific spot. I followed her latched gaze to a boy with nice hair and Buddy Holly glasses. He was chatting with another guy in line. Angie’s lip fell just slightly.
“Angie.”
No response. I came closer and snapped my fingers by her ear. “Angie.”
She jolted awake, nearly slipping off of the counter and whipping her head around. “What?”
I smiled and flicked my eyes over to Buddy Holly glasses. “Who’s that?”
“Oh,” she looked down and grew red in the face, tucking a lock of hair being her ear, “That’s Jeremy Redford. He’s just the president of the yearbook committee.”
“Looks like he’s more than that.”
Angie shook her head. “In my dreams. He has a girlfriend—Heather Hills. The literal she-demon of Plainview. Seriously, there are horns underneath all the blonde hair. Steer clear of her. If you smell sulfur, you’re getting close.”
I snickered and moved to the end of the line, Angie following. On the way, I stopped, suddenly noticing a mop of black hair I recognized instantly. Tucked in the back of a library shelf was the Queen boy from yesterday. He was accompanied by two of the guys from the van. They laughed in hushed voices while childishly ripping pages from library books. Of course.
“Don’t waste your time,” Angie remarked, now catching my gaze. “That’s Rodrick. Total loser. Thinks he’s some big hardcore rocker because he started a crappy band with a high school dropout and two other mouth breathers. But, all he really does is fawn over girls way out of his league and skip classes to smoke behind the cafeteria. Maybe if he didn’t then he wouldn’t have had to retake 12th grade.”
Rodrick didn’t notice us but continued tearing pages, pounding fists with the other guys. So this is the underbelly of punk rock.
I turned back to Angie, “You know a lot about the students here.”
She shrugged and turned away from the punk buffoons. “I’m on the yearbook committee. It’s kinda my job to.”
180Please respect copyright.PENANA38k9Jf9Zas
As I sat in my Earth Science class, I made a thoughtful if not unpleasant decision to befriend Angie and study her. If I was to genuinely play off Jenny Tyler, I had to know how she dressed and how she acted, how she spoke and how she thought. Angie was just the low-key yet down-to-earth girl I needed to be to get through my senior year unscathed. And she would unknowingly teach me everything.
“Jenny?” a male voice beside my desk said.
I looked up from my biome busywork to see our teacher Mr. Aerodyke next to me, slightly leaned over.
“Can I have a word at my desk for a minute?” he asked.
I nodded, a little nervous and unsure of where this was heading. I followed Mr. Aerodyke over to his corner of the room where sat his perfectly neat desk and computer, not a pencil or paper clip out of line. He sat and opened a file drawer behind him. After fingering through several alphabetized manilla folders, he pulled one out and drew a few stapled documents out.
“The administration let me know about your situation,” he started, speaking in a low, quiet voice, “and I want you to know you’re in good hands at Crossland High. I’ll be keeping your identity under wraps just like the rest of your teachers, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be treating you any differently—”
“I’m not asking to be treated differently—”
He held up a finger. “Please, don’t interrupt. Because of your situation, I think it’d be best that you try and make some friends in class.” He peered his head around me and nodded towards an African American girl in a polo shirt making a friendship bracelet out of red string. “Ronnie James is very friendly and is in the school’s drama club.”
Mr. Aerodyke looked around the class and casually pointed towards another girl in the front row with shiny long blonde hair and pink earrings who was busy texting on a cell phone. “Or Heather Hills. She’s pretty popular. Just don’t ask her for study notes.” So, that’s Heather Hills.
I turned back to him and tried not to make a face but shook my head instead. “I appreciate it, but I don’t need help making friends.”
“Oh, sorry, that’s just what your mother told me.”
I blinked a few times. “Wait, what?”
“Your mother, Julie Emmet, right? She sent me an email a few days ago saying you might need extra help adjusting and finding friends.”
“She did, did she?” I couldn’t believe it.
“You’re a senior, Jenny, so I just don’t think I can treat you differently. Every kid has to go through the maze of finding friends. And you’re not the exception.”
I was quiet for a moment, trying to process my absolute embarrassment and the burning anger for my mother. I could feel the heat all over my face and nodded slowly.
“I understand,” I said.
Mr. Aerodyke nodded back and handed me a colorful sheet of paper. “Good. Figured you’d need a map of the school.”
“Thanks.” I turned to leave, desperate to end whatever kind of conversation this was.
“And Jenny?” he said.
I stopped and waited.
“Don’t worry too much about being recognized. Plainview is a respectable town. People here don’t listen to music like that.”
180Please respect copyright.PENANAfWjIGrZDww
I sat down in my seat and stared out in space. Nothing would get better here. I wasn’t allowed to be myself in any capacity. Even if I was, it wasn’t as if anyone would take me seriously. And, furthermore, my own mother didn’t believe I could make friends of my own. I thought to myself, Is this what it’ll be like when I do graduate? Dirty looks and passive-aggressive comments? What about the people who care about our music? What about them?
“What was that all about?” a familiar voice chimed in behind me.
I sucked in a heavy breath, unable and unwilling to deal with more of a reason for a migraine.
Rodrick continued, “Blink twice if Dyke tried anything.”
I whipped my head around and glared, “Leave me alone.”
He backed his head away and raised his thick dark eyebrows. “Someone’s pissed.”
I looked him up and down. I could smell the Axe and Red Hots from there and it only fueled my fire. “I’m not pissed. I just don’t appreciate losers sticking their giant noses in my business.”
He scoffed, equally amazed and insulted, “Okay, well I don’t appreciate strange chicks staring at me from across the school parking lot because they’ve got nothing better to do.”
I opened my mouth to retort back but found nothing there. I turned back around and felt his eyes on the back of my head. He’s right, you know.
I turned back around, less angry and more calm. “I didn’t mean to stare at you. I just…I liked the music.”
He raised his eyebrows again and leaned back in his seat. “Really? You like Alice in Chains?”
Back it up. Back it up. Back it up.
“I mean,” I started, looking away, “I heard it on my dad’s old CDs once.”
Rodrick squinted at me and kind of smiled in a way that made me want to shiver again. “What’s your name?”
I hesitated and didn’t answer.
“I’m not asking your blood type. Just your name.”
“Jenny,” I finally said, “Jenny Tyler.”
He held back a laugh. “That’s a stupid name.”
“I know,” I said without a second thought. Both of us went quiet and I felt a little bit of blood fall from my face. “I mean, it’s pretty common.”
He looked back at me as if he was studying a confusing riddle. Though, I got the feeling that he probably couldn’t even read. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess.”
I sat, silent and internally panicking. I sort of nodded and turned around, burning holes through the busywork on my desk. I’ll never pass this off. I’m doomed.
Rodrick didn’t speak to me for the rest of class, and for that, I was extremely thankful. Something about him made me feel extremely vulnerable, and I felt as if at any moment I could slip up and ruin everything. Out of everyone at the entire school, he seemed the most likely to have heard of Anarchy Road. So, this was stupid. This was dangerous. This was putting the Bible right beside an open flame.
ns 172.70.178.172da2