Page 97 of Resilience

CHAPTER TWENTY

On her lunch break the next day, sunny and warm like a goodbye kiss from the summer, Athena sat at one of the picnic tables in the dog yard and began laying out her lunch: chunky chicken salad with avocado on a croissant, apple slices with cinnamon, and iced tea. Yum.

The dog yard was on the side of the school opposite the playground, and nobody else was currently over here. Athena appreciated having the place to themselves, but Blanche could obviously hear kids playing. She’d done her business and was now at the fence, ears perked, staring toward a playground she couldn’t see.

Ever since she’d been a student at this school, Athena had brought her lunch. The cafeteria served pretty good food, actually, but Athena didn’t like the busyness in there. Too bright, too much going on, too many people and things to navigate. Even as a child, she’d sought out a lonely place where she could read or knit. These days, she mainly knitted. With Christmas coming up, she was knitting in pretty much every free moment.

She’d finished the blanket for her parents, and three pairs of marled socks for Grammo, and fingerless gloves for Grampa D, who’d been complaining that his hands got too cold to work on his models. Now she was working on a sweater for Sam. She’d found a beautiful half-zip pattern with a shadow cable stitch, and an excellent yarn in a dusty celadon that would really make his eyes pop.

When she was done with her lunch, she’d get that project out of her knitting bag and finish her break focused on that. Right now, she needed something to focus on; otherwise her brain ran to the events of the night before and made a mess.

She really wasn’t freaked out about what they’d done to Hunter. She wasn’t thrilled that it had been necessary, but she had worked her way to an understanding and acceptance that it had, in fact, been necessary. The weird thing, though: she was still so fucking angry. Hunter was dead, he’d died helpless and afraid, and she’d needed that—not the death but the fear, the loss of agency. There was nothing left to be angry about. Well, there was the uterus blob, but she had an appointment to eradicate that coming up—on Halloween, which seemed grimly fitting. And then it would all be over.

Maybe she’d be mad until it truly was over.

But shit, this constant rage was exhausting. And it fucked with her already dodgy digestion.

Her feelings were maybe complicated, but she didn’t think guilt was among the complications—except for the potential guilt of getting her family in trouble for the way they’d helped her. That was probably the reason her brain kept trying to make trouble.

Probably a dozen times this morning, until work had gotten busy enough to distract her, she’d checked online for news about an accident in the rural stretch between Tulsa and the City. There hadn’t been anything yet—at least not the last time she’d checked. That had been a couple of hours ago, and she was trying not to start checking again.

She was just finishing her apple slices and congratulating herself on leaving her phone alone when Blanche trotted toward the gate. Athena looked over and saw Olivia and Kenneth coming in.

Her work buddies came over and plopped side-by-side on the other bench of the table.

“Sitting out here by yourself as usual,” Olivia chastised.

“I like it. Anyway, I thought you had lunch duty today, Kenneth.”

His eyes popped wide. “Tara owed me one, and I collected. We needed to see how you were handling the news.”

“What news?” Athena asked, her heart pounding a little faster, a little harder.

“You don’t know?” Olivia asked.

“Obviously I don’t. What?”

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