The interesting thing, I realize, is that no one looks at us. No one cares. I wish I could take that worry from myself but it’s too ingrained. Too present.
I glance up at George and he smiles, adorable and sweet, and although he doesn’t take the worry away, it comes pretty close.
The first meeting of the Sierra Helping Hands club started at 3:05. The desks in Mr. Ross’ room have been moved into a circle and there’s a sheet of paper on each one. Charlie and I arrive together and take our seats, noting that it’s an agenda. First up: Fall Service Project.
Margaret walks around the circle handing everyone a lemonade and bag of chips. When she’s finished, I see that there about twenty kids total. Various grades. I don’t know any of them, although a few faces look vaguely familiar. If I thought a certain kind of kid joined this club, I’d be wrong. It’s pretty varied. A few emo kids. A couple of quasi-hippies (that Dex would just call burn-outs.) One guy who’s dressed urban, which is hilarious since we’re really far from the nearest town. The majority is basic white girl, which I guess I fall into that category, too.
“I’d like to welcome Starlee Jones. She’s a senior and just moved here from North Carolina.”
I smile and everyone gives me a wave or friendly grin.
“And you probably know Charlie Evans. He’s also joined the club this year.”
“Awesome,” one guy in a baseball cap says. “You can help with the website, right?”
Charlie’s in the middle of taking a swig of lemonade and looks alarmed at being put on the spot, but says, “Yeah, probably.”
“As you know,” Margaret says, “There are a lot of families still struggling since the forest fires this summer. I’m thinking this may need to be our primary focus for the year. Adopting several families and supporting them through the year. We can start with a canned food drive, Christmas support, and anything else we can come up with for the spring.”
“That’s a good idea,” one girl says. Her light brown hair is in two French braids that hang on both sides of her shoulders. “My uncle lost his house. They’ve been living with us since August. It’s been hard on everyone.”
Margaret scribbles notes on a pad in front of her. “Evie, that’s amazing your family took them in. Definitely let us know what would be helpful.”
She nods. “I will.”
“We’ll need posters, collection booths, a list of recipients and a few vehicles to carry everything on distribution day.” She pulls out a sheet and passes it and a pen around the circle. “Sign up for something or somethings. We’ll make an action plan next meeting.”
The sheet goes around the table and when it gets to me and Charlie, it’s half full. I read the list. “What should we sign up for?”
“No clue.” I have little doubt he doesn’t want to sign up for anything. I grab the pen and write our names under collection booth and distribution day. “We can use Sierra’s Jeep.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You think?”
“Along with the strong arms of two members of the football team.”
He smiles. “Good plan.”
Margaret calls the meeting to an end and says she’ll email us a reminder. I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. “That wasn’t so bad,” I say on our way out the classroom. Dexter waits for us in the library.
“No and you’re right, Sierra was pretty excited when I told her I’m joining a club.”
“All it takes is a little effort.” I face him. “I think that’s all people want, you know?”
“I guess.”
But I see the look in his eye. He’s jonesing to get to his game. I fight a sigh. Baby steps. It’s going to be baby steps before he gets better. The good news is that today is the first in many, and if I have anything to do about it, he’ll have something way more interesting than video games on his mind and hands anyway.
23
Dexter
“I hate that you had to close the shop for this.”
My sister glances at me from the driver’s seat. “I hate it too, but I’m not missing your meeting.”
“Seems like the probation office wouldn’t want me to miss school.”
“I think Mr. Jameson just wants to get home at a normal time and start his weekend.”