Page 177 of As the Rain Falls
“Yes, we’re very sorry,” Alice echoes, her tone dull.
Mr. Valdez is the kind of teacher who needs to be in control. He hasn’t worked at Sainte Madeleine for a very long time. Dad picked him out because he graduated from Sorbonne, but most of the kids can’t stand how much of a control freak he can be. Like, he’s super strict about class layouts.
He moves Renato to the back so Alice can sit at the front next to Kayla. Then, with the kindness of a dictator, he orders Zacharias to take the empty seat in the far left side of the right row next to Laura.That leaves an empty spot next to me.To my growing horror, Mr. Valdez gestures for Angelina to take it, nudging her forward like she’s some kind of uncivilized being.
I hate when this happens. Teachers always think because I’m quiet and like to keep to myself, I’m the least susceptible to creating conflict with the troublemakers.
“Move along, Cardoso.”
I brace myself, expecting Angelina to roll her eyes and tell him off because his intentions are fairly obvious, but surprisingly enough, she just nods and sits down without a word.
The first thirty minutes of class are excruciatingly slow. Mr. Valdez explains all the safety protocols as if any of us would actually consider licking the frogs.
I half-listen, half-doze off.
Flirting with Caleb all night has stolen my sleep. Our conversations are mostly meaningless to me; I can never remember why we even talk so much to begin with after we’re done.
It’s a strange concept, to be sharing so much of myself but still feeling numb. I sometimes can’t remember what kind of pictures he asks me to send, not until I find them staring at me in the gallery. I keep so many questions locked in my head.
Is this what I look like?
Is the camera on my phone lying to me?
Is this what Nathaniel saw?
I don’t know anymore.
Still, I’m scared he’ll lose interest if I don’t give him enough attention. It’s like I’m walking a tightrope. If I stop sending the pictures, Caleb will forget about me. It makes me a little sad that we never really talk about anything other than sex. My body is perfect for him, and he won’t ever let me forget it, but a girl could use a bit of kindness.
“Can you handle the cutting?” Angelina asks, eyeing the tiny corpse. Her voice chases my thoughts away, and I shake my head, feigning normalcy. “I don’t do well with… that.”
I hesitate.
“Sure.” My stomach rolls uncomfortably. “But, ah, Angelina. To be honest, I’m also not the best at cutting either.”
Truthfully, I don’t do well with science experiments on animals either, but I’m also not about to hand a scalpel to the girl who just beat the shit out of Alice Chartrand of all people. Disgusted, I pull on my gloves and adjust my mask, placing the frog in the dissecting pan.
“To begin the dissection.” Mr. Valdez pauses, his head snapping to the opposite side of the room. “No, Zacharias. You cannot pull the frog’s legs like that!” He snaps, voice sharp.
I poke the frog with the edge of the scalpel, watching the way its little black eyes stare back at me in horror.
“Okay. Nope. I’m not doing this.”
Angelina crosses her arms over her chest. “The teacher will yell at us if you don’t.”
“Then, you do it.” I hand her the scalpel. “Please, be my guest. Cut Tiana down.”
“Tiana? Seriously? What are you, five?” She stares at me like I’m stupid. “He is obviously a male.”
I blink fast. “And how do you know that?”
She gestures at the little frog’s throat.Her hand is perfectly manicured, with blood-red pointed nails.
“Look at the baggy skin around his throat and his size. This is definitely a he, not a she.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Females are larger.” Angelina smiles proudly.
