For the last couple days since Adam had brought it up, all Mike could think about was Homecoming. Adam had planted a seed and put crazy ideas about taking Monica Callaway into Mike’s head. His morning ritual of “delaying” his departure for school was even more intense than it used to be. She was no longer the hot girl that was totally out of reach. Now she was the hot girl that was totally out of reach but would look smokin’ in a Homecoming dress.
Photo class was especially torturous. Monica was oblivious to Mike, even though they sat only a few chairs away from each other. This normally would have been a major turn off to Mike. Girls that are full of themselves, regardless of how hot they are, are a waste of time. Mike knew Monica was different though, and he blamed himself for never even attempting a conversation.
“Assignment #7 on shadows is due in two and a half weeks. That’s the Friday before Homecoming.” Mr. Barry stood behind his podium in jeans and a collared shirt. “If you finish that early you can go back and redo any previous project. Got it? Get to it!”
Mike found his negatives hiding in the madness living inside his notebook. He’d taken some pictures of Jackson standing outside his house at sunset. His shadow stretched all the way to the end of the street like a giant, albeit a very skinny one. Mike picked a couple different shots to develop, and he hoped at least one of them turned out decent.
The darkroom always smelled a little off. The stop bath gave off a pungent vinegar odor, and the open liquids made the air feel damp. A single red safelight provided the only light in the dim room. A couple other students were busy with various stages in the photo developing process. Mr. Barry had also rigged a radio to play in the darkroom, so it was never uncomfortably quiet.
Mike exposed his prints and headed over to the developer. He dipped his paper into the bin and daydreamed. Monica Callaway had practically taken up residence in his mind, and she was there front and center as he drifted away.
Mike had decided there were two kinds of guys in the world. For some, they need only look at a girl, and they would swoon from all corners of the globe. For them, Homecoming was a glorious occasion. Adam probably assumed he was in this category, but Jackson had said Marly was a fluke.
Then there were guys like Mike. They weren’t ugly or weird, and unlike the guys on daytime TV, women didn’t want to kill each other to be with them. Mike called himself and other guys like him a “hard sell.” Eventually they ended up with a girl and got married, but it took a whole lot of convincing. Girls weren’t going to drool over Mike’s body or golden locks. Whenever he would find the girl for him, it would be because of who he was as a person. His personality and convictions were his strong points, but girls couldn’t see this from across the quad. The problem was getting a girl close enough that she could witness them for herself.
Maybe you should go on Oprah and cry your eyes out, that would be really sexy.
He went back to tending his photo project.
Mike picked up his photos and slapped them down in the stop bath. As he did this the girl next to him started splashing the stop bath around with the tongs.
“Whoa, cut it out. That stuff wreaks havoc on the clothes.” The idiocy of fellow classmates drove Mike nuts.
But instead of stopping it got worse, and Mike realized she wasn’t screwing around, she was in pain.
It was hard to tell what was wrong in the poor lighting, but Mike could hear her gasping for air. She fell to the floor and the tongs rattled away, and at that moment the seriousness of the situation donned on Mike.
“Somebody turn on the lights, now!” Mike moved over to the girl on the floor to see what was wrong. Someone flipped the switch and the room was filled with white light.
Mike was hunched over Julia Sanchez, a fellow senior at McNeil. Her hands were pulling at the skin around her neck, like there was a clamp squeezing her windpipe shut. Mike sprung into action.
“Someone call 911, she can’t breathe!”
Mike had never taken a CPR class, but he’d watched enough TV to get the main idea. His mom was an RN, and she always criticized the actors if she didn’t approve of their form. Tilt the head back, close the nose, breathe into the mouth. For a second Mike looked up to see who else was there, and hoped someone might push him out of the way and say “I’m a doctor, move!”
No one did.
He breathed into her mouth, but couldn’t tell if it was working. She wasn’t breathing on her own at all now. For the next 8 minutes Mike performed CPR on Julia, or at least something very close to real CPR. When the paramedics arrived and took over Mike was glad to be relieved of his responsibility. He hoped he hadn’t screwed up too bad and the paramedics would still have a chance.
They put a breathing mask over her mouth and gave her a couple shots. As they wheeled her out of the darkroom there was mention that it was most likely an allergic reaction, but she would probably pull through with no problem.
The adrenaline was still pumping through Mike’s blood as he stood in the darkroom. He now realized how short of breath he had become trying to breath for two people. He looked up and saw a few classmates standing around looking scared to death, and Mike hoped none of them needed CPR. Mr. Barry stood there also and looked white as milk. Mike turned around to see who else was there, and that’s when he saw her, hand still on the light switch.
It was Monica Callaway.
She looked as surprised and shocked as the rest of them, but that wasn’t what grabbed Mike’s attention. He had seen Monica on many occasions, but this was different. He wasn’t just looking at her, she was looking at him.
“You saved her life Mike,” Monica said.
She said your name!
“What? Uh, I don’t know, she just needed help, I guess…”
“No, you did. If you hadn’t known CPR she’d be dead,” Monica insisted.
“Well, I don’t really know CPR, I’ve just seen…”
As Mike began his explanation he was interrupted. Someone behind him had started clapping, and within a few seconds everyone else in the darkroom had joined them. It wasn’t until now that Mike started to consider his efforts and that they might have been a little heroic.
He looked back towards the light switch, lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and unsure that Monica had actually been there. She was there, still the prettiest girl on Earth, and she was clapping with the rest of them.
Mike watched as a smile crept across the lips of Monica Callaway, intended solely for him.
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