Page 21 of This I Know
“Good,” I say.
“Good. I know you’ve been worried about this, but try to be excited, okay? For me. I’m sure your friends will love to see you again.”
“I know. They will.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call your teachers ahead of time? I can let them know everything that happened–”
“They already know what happened.”
“Yes, they do, but I can let them know how to accommodate you. They can try to make things easier for you.”
I shake my head. “No, Mom. Thanks.”
“Well, alright.”
She sits down next to me to eat just as Mara comes down the stairs, scrubbing her head dry with a towel.
“Hi, Mrs. Dylan.”
“Mara. Hi, dear. Would you like some breakfast?” She stands again to get Mara a plate.
“That’s okay. I brought something for myself.” She gestures to her purse, which is stuffed full of books and other items. “Smells amazing, though. Avery, we’d better get going.”
I nod and take one last bite. This doesn’t surprise me – for as long as I’ve known her, Mara has let her hair air dry, even if it means going in public with a wet head. You get used to it. And wearerunning late. I grab my things, mentally double check I have everything, and together Mara and I head out the door.
“Avery,” my mom yells, “if you need anything, you can call me.”
So far, school isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Knock on wood. But I’m well aware that my limp is pretty pronounced, and I feel like it’s obvious to everyone I pass. After a while, you get pretty tuned in to the sensation of eyes on you. And because of that, you learn to walk with a sort of slump, looking at the ground to avoid meeting the eyes of everyone else to just keep everything less fucking painful.
I’m getting through. I mean, at least no one’s pointed straight at me and laughed (does that ever really happen outside of teen-angst movies?) and I have yet to catch wind of any nasty rumors going around. Something surprising’s happened: several people came up to me, giving me hugs and sayingWe’ve been praying for you thiswholetime, orOh, Avery, I’msoglad they caught that guyand they can’t believe what happened,Who would have thought?You know, the same stuff I’ve heard a million times. I smile, nod, say, “Me, too.”
My teachers are taking it easy on me, even without my mom’s little phone call of help. Not one of them has called on me to answer a question, something that didn’t go unnoticed, and my history teacher even pulled me aside to say it’s okay if I need an extension on the homework he’s assigning. I told him thanks, but I’ll have it in on time.
Mara’s kept close to me through most of the day – as much as she can, given that we have such different schedules. We only have one same class, but in between all the others she’s met me by my locker. You’d think the girl felt some sort of obligation to watch over me, or maybe some desire to protect me in some way from Cole. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen him. At all. Which is unusual for us. It’s unusual forhim, the guy who’s typically on-point meeting up with me during the day, texting me silly things and waiting by my locker to sneak a kiss before the bell. I guess despite all the crap he put me through, I miss him.
It’s noon, between third and fourth period, and I’m waiting for Mara at her locker. I got a text from her a little while ago telling me to meet her here. So far, she’s late. I take my phone out. Mara told me not to text him, but maybe just once. I want to hear his voice and see what he has to say for himself. Maybe he’ll respond withOh, my gosh, Avery. Where have you been?Because maybe he lost his phone, and hasn’t had it until now. And maybe he didn’t have the address to the hospital. And maybe he just so happened to come down with something, a bad cold, and that’s why he’s not at school.
Avery, you’re ridiculous.
In the middle of all my sulking about where the hell my boyfriend is, and wondering if he’s even still my boyfriend at all, someone catches my eye. It happens as I’m holding my phone, just as I’m placing and removing my thumb from Cole’s name like some kind of crazy person. It’s a tall figure, walking this way. His head of dark hair extends above everyone else’s, and his strong jawline is visible even from this far away. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, both of which show off his well-formed muscles. He’s since turned, now digging into his locker.
“What’s up?”
It’s Mara, sneaking up behind me.
“You scared the crap out of me,” I say, casually stuffing my phone back into my purse.
“I’m late. Sorry. Mrs. Miller made us stay after for explanations of the grades of my papers. You know, the one we worked on together a few weeks ago? She gave me a C, and I wasn’t going to let her get off that easy.”
“Mara,” I interrupt. “Who’s that?”
She pauses, following my eyes. “Ethan Harrington.”
“Have I seen him before?”
She shakes her head. She pulls a few notebooks out of her locker, torn and bursting with papers, and places them in her bag. She holds the sides with two hands and shakes it, forcing the notebooks to fall down further. “He’s new here. Started … soon after your accident, I think.”
I love how she calls it myaccident. To everyone else, it was my attack. Not to Mara.
