Nothing Much to Twelfth Grade Part VII (Final Chapter)
“West Balk. What’s a ‘balk’ and what’s it west of?” Drew asked.
They sat in the cafeteria, picking at the corn casserole that was dinner.
“Yeah, and is there like an East Balk? Like, you know, there’s West Egg and East Egg,” Benedick said.
“Egg?” Oren said. “Why are you talking about eggs?”
“The Great Gatsby?” Benedick looked horrified as Oren continued to look confused.
“Oh, yeah, never read that.”
“Dude,” Vic said. “We read that last year for English class.”
“Well. You read that last year,” Oren said. “I did not. I skimmed the first chapter and then didn’t open the book again.”
Viola punched him in the arm. “God, I don’t know how you pass your classes.”
“Hey! I do the work usually. Just not so much my English readings. I always do my math homework!”
“So, the definitions for balk,” Curt said, reading from his phone. “Definition number one: baseball, an illegal motion made by a pitcher that may deceive a base runner. Definition number two: a roughly squared timber beam. Third definition: any area on a pool or billiard table in which play is restricted in some way. And the last definition: a ridge left unplowed between furrows.”
“Yeah, it’s probably that last one,” Vic said.
“Or it could be the second one,” Oren said. “Timber beams.”
“What? Why would it be named after timber beams?” Viola said.
“Hey. I bet that the school could be built with timber beams.”
“That’s so stupid, Oren,” Viola said, shaking her head. “Why would they name the school after that? That’s like calling a building ‘concrete block.’”
“Well,” Benedick said, “There is like pine lodge.”
“Thank you!” Oren said, slinging an arm around Benedick’s shoulder.
“Fine, fine,” Viola said and then a mischievous gleam came into their eyes. “So. What’s this then?” They gestured at Benedick and Oren.
“What?” Benedick asked, but both his face and Oren’s were bright red.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Viola said with fake innocence. “I think I witnessed what maaaay have been a goodnight kiss last night.”
“Oh, really,” Benedick said. “Goodnight kiss?” He turned to look at Oren. “I don’t know that I would call it a goodnight kiss. Maybe an I’m-glad-we-had-a-good-date kiss. Or maybe even a thanks-for-letting-me-eat-the-last-bite-of-pie kiss. But I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a goodnight kiss.”
Viola laughed as Oren grinned at their friends proudly.
“Well,” Vic said, “Even if balk means an unplowed ridge, why ‘west’?
“That’s true,” Drew said. "But I don’t know. I like West. It reminds me of cowboys and like the rugged frontier.”
“Drew, hate to break it to you,” Viola said. “But you’re not exactly the rugged frontiersman type.”
Benedick looked around at his friends. He couldn’t believe that graduation was only two weeks away. He could barely remember that first day he had moved in. He’d been so worried. Worried about making friends, about living in America. And now… all these friends he’d made were all going away to university. Benedick sighed. But then Oren nudged him in the shoulder and smiled at him. Well, he thought, at least he and Oren were going to the same university.
“Hey, dickface,” Viola said, throwing a piece of corn at his face. “Remember what we said. No getting nostalgic and sappy. We’re gonna live these last few weeks to the fullest.”
“Right,” Benedick agreed, flinging a piece of corn back at Viola.
As Viola’s gaze turned steely, Vic said, “No no no. Not another food fight. Remember how much trouble we got in last time?”
“Hey, we’ll clean it up this time. And we’re graduating in two weeks. What are they gonna do to us?” Viola said, picking up her plate, and Vic quickly ducked under the table.
Benedick laughed as Oren threw his casserole at Viola who turned, a look of outraged betrayal on their face. Yeah, Benedick thought, ducking away from Drew’s handful of food, he was glad he’d come to West Balk.
