Read Online Are You Still There by Sarah Lynn Scheerger - Free Book Online Page B

that
    Shoulda-woulda-coulda feeling.
    It weighs down my chest
    Like an avalanche of dictionaries.
    But now, I’m in charge
    And things will be different.
    This time I’ll deal the cards
    In my favor.

11
    EARLY NOVEMBER
    â€œThis is harder than it looks,” I complain. I’m sitting cross-legged on the futon, holding a tiny purple bead between two fingers and trying to thread wire through the microscopic hole. Janae searches through the pile of beads in the center of the futon.
    â€œYou want some help?” Miguel asks from my left.
    Miguel and I were somehow paired together when Paisley made the executive decision that all helpline shifts would be run in coed teams. To “remedy safety concerns.”
    Janae raised her hand in the meeting to say that bombs and bullets were equal opportunity killers. Walking out with a guy didn’t necessarily increase her safety. But Janae’s not complaining because she got paired with Garth. I made Janae promise to come with me for my shifts so I wouldn’t have to be alone with Miguel. I told her I’d pay her back and come to her shifts too.
    â€œGo for it.” I say, holding out the jewelry. Miguel takes it from me, his fingers brushing against mine. His skin feels hot, and the tips of his fingers are rough to the touch, but not in a bad way.
    Miguel grins, his teeth flashing white against his dark skin. “I’ve rethreaded my mother’s sewing needles a hundred times.” I watch as he licks his finger and then slips the wire through the small hole.
    Riiiiiing . We all jump. We’ve got to stop being so jumpy about getting phone calls. That is, after all, the whole reason we are here. Riiiiiing .
    â€œI’ll take it,” I say.
    I sit in the chair, take a deep breath, and pick up the phone. “Helpline, this is Vanessa.”
    â€œOh, hi.” The voice sounds surprised, like maybe she didn’t expect anyone would answer.
    â€œHi,” I tell her. “What’s going on tonight?”
    â€œUh …” Her voice is shaky. “It’s nothing really.”
    â€œI’m here to listen,” I remind her.
    â€œOkay, it’s just that I moved here midyear, and no one at this school has ever heard of being friendly!”
    I am momentarily offended. Of course we’re friendly. I write on my paper: Lonely. New to school. People unfriendly .
    Janae scribbles, How does that make you feel?
    I hate these pat answers and questions. They feel so forced. But I can’t think of anything else to say. “So you’re new to school.” This sounds even more ridiculous, but luckily the girl doesn’t seem to mind.
    â€œYeah. I hate it here. I’ve been eating my lunch in a bathroom stall, because there’s no place to sit. No one seems to want to get to know someone new.”
    Miguel writes on the paper, Get involved in a club? Or a sport?
    I’ll have to remind him later that we’re not supposed to give advice. “Are there any groups you’d really like to hang out with?”
    â€œAt my old school I hung with the theater kids.”
    â€œWe have a drama program here too,” I point out. “The drama teacher lets people eat their lunches in her room if she’s in there.”
    â€œReally?” I hear the slight lift in her voice. “But I’m not in drama. And I haven’t auditioned for any plays.”
    â€œAs far as I know, there’s no rule that says you have to. As long as you clean up your own trash, it shouldn’t be an issue.”
    I’m not sure if I just gave advice, but whatever I did, it worked. The girl chatters for a few more minutes, saying she has nothing to lose so she might as well give it a shot. Anything beats eating lunch in the bathroom. And my friends each give me a pat on the back. Mission complete.
    At five minutes to closing, Ping! A text comes in. The words glow on the computer screen. Are you still