Class Favorite by Taylor Morris Page B

bad that even Shiner wouldn’t make fun of me.
    â€œWho did this?” I tried to demand, but I think it came outsounding more like a pathetic whimper with zero authority. I searched the crowd for a sign of Arlene, but she wasn’t there, and I knew that if I didn’t pull myself together quickly, it wouldn’t be long before I started crying. My mind reeled. I was angry and embarrassed, but I had to maintain control. “Who did this?” I said again, but with more force. I didn’t deserve this. I’d never done anything to anyone, and I didn’t deserve to be publicly humiliated. “If no one’s going to own up, either help me clean this up or just get on.” I yanked a tampon off to emphasize my point, even though my hands were shaking and I felt like vomiting. When I looked back at the crowd, many were dispersing. Then I locked eyes with Jason. Of all people, he had to see this.
    His hazel eyes bore into me, like he was trying to understand me. I couldn’t help but stare back, thinking briefly that his eyes looked crushingly sympathetic, like when you see a dog get plowed by a Suburban. His golden-brown hair fell over his forehead, and for a microsecond I felt everything fade away. Then he gave me one of those pathetic smiles, the kind that says, No matter how big a loser you are, we can’t help but feel sorry for you . Which made me feel even worse.
    Even in the enormity of the situation, I realized I should try to exude some poise. “That was nice of them to take them out of the wrappers,” I said, flicking one of the tampons.
    Ugh . I immediately cringed at myself for always saying and doing the dumbest things.
    Jason nodded and said, “That’s one way of looking at it.” And then . . . he smiled. At me. Jason Andersen looked me right in the eyes and smiled.
    The warning bell rang, and everyone finally started to move on. Some last giggles, then someone joked, “Anybody got a tampon?” A few erupted in laughter.
    He scratched the back of his head and looked at my locker. He sighed and said, “Man, Thurman. Whoever did this is a real psycho.” He looked back at me. “Well. I guess we better get this cleaned up.”
    We? He said we ? I was painfully aware that there was no we when it came to Sara Thurman and Jason Andersen. I stood there paralyzed, wondering what he was going to do next. I half expected him to laugh at me—“Just kidding!”—then walk away, even though I knew Jason wasn’t that kind of guy.
    The halls had almost completely thinned out when he set his books down on the floor, walked across the hall, and dragged a trash can over to my locker.
    â€œLook,” I said, all weak and shaky and embarrassed. “Really, you don’t have to do this.”
    And then: Rip! He yanked a Kotex superabsorbent with wings off my locker and dropped it into the garbage.
    â€œOh, my God, Jason, I’m serious.” Seeing his hands grab that winged monstrosity made everything seem wrong. Even though he might be able to help me realize my Class Favoritedreams, I didn’t want him to see me like this. “Look, I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. This isn’t your problem.”
    â€œIt’s not really your problem either. I mean, you didn’t ask for this,” he said as he tore off a tampon. Amazing that he just trusted that I didn’t do something awful to deserve that. I wasn’t sure I would have given the benefit of the doubt just like that.
    â€œAnd if you ask me, whoever did this should totally be expelled.” I couldn’t handle any thought of Arlene yet. It was just too awful. Instead, I concentrated on Jason, who was actually talking to me and even sort of being my knight in shining . . . well, in a really cool Hilfiger shirt. But he probably just felt sorry for me.
    And then he gave this look—a half smile with kind eyes, and then one of his