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Authors: Susane Colasanti
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the locker room.
“Hey,” she goes. “You got out early from art again?”
“Just in time. I was two seconds away from ripping my pointillism fiasco to shreds.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
“Only when it’s true.”
“So . . . I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“What?”
Danielle looks behind her, toward the locker room. No one’s around.
“I just . . .” She gets really quiet. “I was wondering if . . . there’s anything going on with you and Jason.”
“What? No! Why would you think that?”
“Because you sit with him every day at lunch.”
“I thought you weren’t mad about that. I told you, it’s—”
“I’m not mad. I just meant . . . I see the way you are with him.”
This is tricky. I could ask exactly what she means by that. Of course I want to know. But then we’ll be talking about it. It’s better to not go there.
“We’re just friends,” I say. “You know he’s with Erin.”
“I know.”
“We have this connection, is all.”
I can tell that Danielle doesn’t believe me. We’re close. She knows me. So because we’re close and she knows me, she’s letting it go. That’s how you know you have a good friend. When they spare you from a conversation you don’t want to have.
When I head to English in a direction that will probably make me late, it’s not a conscious decision. Something is making me walk a different way than I normally would when there’s no reason I should. You know how you’re so used to having the same routine every day that sometimes you’re not even aware of how you got from point A to point B? Like, all of a sudden I’ll be somewhere that I totally don’t remember walking to. I’m used to sort of tuning out like that in between classes. But right now I just have this really strong feeling that I should go down a different hall. So I do.
And there’s Jason. Right around the corner.
“Hey,” he says. “I never see you before fourth.”
“Well . . . here I am.”
“Nice. What do you have now?”
“Um. English.”
“Do you have Mrs. DeFranco?”
“No, Ms. Martin.”
“I hear she’s decent.”
“Yeah, I like her.”
The bell rings.
Jason says, “See you at lunch?”
“Yeah.”
We both go to leave at the same time. I bump right into Jason. Or he bumps into me. It’s hard to tell.
“Oh!” I go. “Sorry!”
“No, it’s my fault. I’m still learning how this whole look-where-you’re-going thing works.”
We try to walk our separate ways without bumping into each other again. We both move to the same side, then the other side.
“Whoa,” Jason says. “Maybe one of us should let the other go first.”
“I’m not moving.”
“Walking away now.”
Jason finally manages to leave.
Kids go to their classrooms. I just stand there, processing it all. What made me walk this way, knowing it would make me late for class? Was the Energy controlling my fate? Or was I controlling my own fate?
14
Today is one of those typical spring Sundays. Mom is working in the garden, planting sunflower seeds. Dad’s in his recliner with a new crossword-puzzle book. Erin’s over. We’re watching a movie in my room. It’s the same scenario we’ve all played out tons of times before. Except today is different.
Today I feel guilty.
Erin doesn’t care that Jason and I sit together at lunch. She loves that we’re friends now. Before that time we all went out for pizza, she was worried that we wouldn’t like each other, which would have harshed her excitement over all of us doing stuff together. So she’s relieved that Blake approved Jason as worthy and that I like hanging out with him. With all of their staring at us, I don’t know if the Golden Circle has said anything to her. Even if they have, it wouldn’t occur to Erin to take their gossiping seriously. In Erin’s mind, Jason and I only exist in relation to her. She gets like this sometimes—only seeing what she wants. It’s a sort of tunnel
“Hey,” she goes. “You got out early from art again?”
“Just in time. I was two seconds away from ripping my pointillism fiasco to shreds.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
“Only when it’s true.”
“So . . . I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“What?”
Danielle looks behind her, toward the locker room. No one’s around.
“I just . . .” She gets really quiet. “I was wondering if . . . there’s anything going on with you and Jason.”
“What? No! Why would you think that?”
“Because you sit with him every day at lunch.”
“I thought you weren’t mad about that. I told you, it’s—”
“I’m not mad. I just meant . . . I see the way you are with him.”
This is tricky. I could ask exactly what she means by that. Of course I want to know. But then we’ll be talking about it. It’s better to not go there.
“We’re just friends,” I say. “You know he’s with Erin.”
“I know.”
“We have this connection, is all.”
I can tell that Danielle doesn’t believe me. We’re close. She knows me. So because we’re close and she knows me, she’s letting it go. That’s how you know you have a good friend. When they spare you from a conversation you don’t want to have.
When I head to English in a direction that will probably make me late, it’s not a conscious decision. Something is making me walk a different way than I normally would when there’s no reason I should. You know how you’re so used to having the same routine every day that sometimes you’re not even aware of how you got from point A to point B? Like, all of a sudden I’ll be somewhere that I totally don’t remember walking to. I’m used to sort of tuning out like that in between classes. But right now I just have this really strong feeling that I should go down a different hall. So I do.
And there’s Jason. Right around the corner.
“Hey,” he says. “I never see you before fourth.”
“Well . . . here I am.”
“Nice. What do you have now?”
“Um. English.”
“Do you have Mrs. DeFranco?”
“No, Ms. Martin.”
“I hear she’s decent.”
“Yeah, I like her.”
The bell rings.
Jason says, “See you at lunch?”
“Yeah.”
We both go to leave at the same time. I bump right into Jason. Or he bumps into me. It’s hard to tell.
“Oh!” I go. “Sorry!”
“No, it’s my fault. I’m still learning how this whole look-where-you’re-going thing works.”
We try to walk our separate ways without bumping into each other again. We both move to the same side, then the other side.
“Whoa,” Jason says. “Maybe one of us should let the other go first.”
“I’m not moving.”
“Walking away now.”
Jason finally manages to leave.
Kids go to their classrooms. I just stand there, processing it all. What made me walk this way, knowing it would make me late for class? Was the Energy controlling my fate? Or was I controlling my own fate?
14
Today is one of those typical spring Sundays. Mom is working in the garden, planting sunflower seeds. Dad’s in his recliner with a new crossword-puzzle book. Erin’s over. We’re watching a movie in my room. It’s the same scenario we’ve all played out tons of times before. Except today is different.
Today I feel guilty.
Erin doesn’t care that Jason and I sit together at lunch. She loves that we’re friends now. Before that time we all went out for pizza, she was worried that we wouldn’t like each other, which would have harshed her excitement over all of us doing stuff together. So she’s relieved that Blake approved Jason as worthy and that I like hanging out with him. With all of their staring at us, I don’t know if the Golden Circle has said anything to her. Even if they have, it wouldn’t occur to Erin to take their gossiping seriously. In Erin’s mind, Jason and I only exist in relation to her. She gets like this sometimes—only seeing what she wants. It’s a sort of tunnel
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