Beth looks at me.
“What are you hearing, Bella? What are your thoughts?”
I lick my lips. Having too many eyes on me is making me nervous, but I guess I have to say something.This is me trying.
“Well, to be honest,” I say slowly, “it all sounds horrible. Going back to school. People…eventually not caring. If they ever did.”
Ethan-Efrain shrugs.
“You can’t always get a pretty rose garden, girl,” he says. “Sometimes all that’s left is thorns.”
School May Be Stressful. Expect the Unexpected.
“Bella,” my mom says.
We’re sitting in the drop-off lane. Kids barrel out of cars and head through the school gates. I’m frozen, backpack on my thighs, seat belt pinching my shoulder.
“It’s time,” she says gently. “You can text me.”
“We aren’t allowed to use our phones during class.”
“At lunch, then.”
The car in front of us pulls away, leaving a gap. The car behind us honks.
Thumpthumpthumpthump,says my heart.
Wren, sparrow, roadrunner, quail.
“You can do this,” my mom says. “I know you can. Remember, you meet with Ms. Ferris first, okay?”
Right. The counselor. To go overthe plan.
“Who’s going to sit with me at lunch?”
“Amber?” my mother answers. “Or you can go to the library.”
“They don’t let you eat in the library,” I say, my voice tense. “And I haven’t talked to Amber since before rehab.”
I haven’t talked to anyone. I haven’t returned any texts. I just look at them every night and then put my phone away.
The car behind us pulls around.
Another car behind us honks.
“Bella.”
“I’m going.”
My brain says:Run for your life, kid.
My heart says:Open the door, Bella. Put on your backpack, Bella. Walk straight ahead, Bella. Look at the ground. Look at a fixed point in front of you like you can see and not see. Make a protective shield around your body that no one can penetrate. You have your makeup. You have your baggy clothes. You are impenetrable.
I get out of the car. My mother drives away.
I look everywhere and nowhere at once. I activate my protective force field and walk into school.
No one can touch me.