Branded - Eric Walters [14]
Wandering among the tables were the students about to be fitted. They were going grade by grade. We were next. By the end of the day, it was all supposed to be done—an impressive act of organization.
Oswald was, of course, in his uniform. He seemed to enjoy wearing it. I thought that he would hate the uniform. Oswald prided himself on being different. I guess being the only one in a uniform made him an individual. Everybody had been watching him, asking him questions and checking out his clothes. I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t like it nearly as much once everybody was in a matching costume.
“Looks like you’re just dying to get in there and get fitted.”
It was Julia.
“Can you blame him?” Oswald asked. “This look is nothing short of sharp.”
“Strawberry jam and toast,” Julia replied.
Oswald looked confused. That wasn’t the response I’d been expecting either.
She pointed to a stain on his jacket. “You had strawberry jam and toast for breakfast.”
Oswald tapped his finger against the stain and then popped it in his mouth. “Raspberry jam. And the beauty of the polyester blend is that it doesn’t stain permanently. I could spread jam directly on the material and it would just wipe away.”
“Another fine reason why we should all wear uniforms,” she replied sarcastically.
“I think this thing is practically fireproof,” he added.
“Why don’t we try to set it on fire and find out!” she said with mock excitement.
Julia was surrendering the idea that she could stop the uniform. She’d found that while lots of people were unhappy about them, nobody was willing to do anything about it. Not that there was much to be done.
It was a board initiative, supported by the parents’ association, and it was something that Mr. Roberts wanted. That was a deadly combination.
“I think whether you like the uniforms or not, it’s a done deal,” I said.
“It’s a shame that nobody came up with a great idea to stop them,” she said.
Of course that comment was aimed straight at me. I hadn’t come up with an idea. Not that I had been thinking that hard, or cared that much, but if I had I would have told her—probably.
“You really are okay with this, aren’t you?” she said, looking me square in the eye.
“It’s not a big deal,” I said.
“It’s not a big deal to you.”
I’d had just about enough. “It shouldn’t be a big deal to anybody.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.
“Look, Jules, after what we’ve been studying in our social justice class, how can you get so upset about stupid uniforms?”
“Hah, do you know why we’ve been studying all those child labor issues right now?” she asked.
“Because it isn’t phys ed, and those are social justice topics?” I suggested.
“Mr. Roberts is trying to distract you with those issues so you don’t think about the school uniforms, that’s why.”
“Are you serious? Do you really think that’s what he’s been doing?”
“It’s his style, just like the way he didn’t consult anybody and ambushed us with it.”
“It is his style to not consult. It isn’t his style to be sneaky.”
“Yeah, defend him like a good little soldier.”
I felt like telling her that the wedding was definitely not going to happen, but that would have been too confusing and embarrassing.
“I’m going to go get fitted now,” I said. “You should probably come in too. After all, you can’t burn it in protest unless you have it.”
“Funny, very funny, but I think I have better places to go and better people to be with.”
She turned and walked away.
“She’s a lot madder at you than she is at me,” Oswald said. “And do you know why?”
“Why?” I asked, although I was pretty sure I didn’t want to hear his answer.
“High expectations,” he said.
“And that means?”