Between You & Me - By Marisa Calin Page 0,40

to stand with fake resignation—at least I hope it’s fake.

Well, hey, you gave it your best! Nice knowing you. Let me know if you need help crawling into a hole.

Even crawling into a hole does sound effortful right now. I grab hold of your sleeve and you meet my eyes with all the sensitivity you have left.

ME

That’d be great.

As I follow you out of the room, I remember that we have Mia second period. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not but if I can talk to her maybe I’ll stay sane.

MIA’S CLASSROOM. SECOND PERIOD.

I’m sitting with my eyes on the door. Mia’s not here yet and every moment I’m an easy target. I’ve moved to a seat at the back of class so I can’t feel the eyes like lasers burning holes in my back. No one has said anything yet—their looks say enough. The door opens. Mrs. Keen! It’s Mrs. Keen with a stack of papers. I almost stand up and yell at her to leave. Where’s Mia?

MRS. KEEN

Settle down, everyone. I’m covering this morning, so you can use this as a reading period. Miss Quin says there’s plenty to do.

I shift in my chair, feeling heat rush to my face. I can’t begin to read, I’ll go crazy. That hole is sounding better and better. I see you looking at me and wait for the blood to stop rushing through my temples before I meet your gaze. There isn’t much you can do from where you are; I have to survive this by myself. I take shallow breaths. I can make it through this day.

LUNCH.

To make that just a tad more difficult, earlier I saw someone who I don’t even know open a text message and look directly at me. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out why but, as I’m walking down the hall at lunch, I pass a gaggle of girls and get a pretty good impression over a ninth grader’s shoulder. There’s the picture, smaller, thank God, but recognizable, being sent around cell phones. The bravest kind of bullying! Pressing buttons and never even looking the person in the eye. I’d rather it still be like kindergarten, so when someone snatches something from you, you can thump them and then burst into tears. Even on a one-inch screen I can see the picture all too clearly. Terrific. My reputation as the crazy-infatuation girl is taking shape. Ryan catches my eye across the hallway, a corner of his mouth turning up as if to say Ah, that explains it! If I were any closer, I’d hit him.

FRONT STEPS. AFTER SCHOOL.

Finally, finally, the end is in sight. I bolt out of biology to find you waiting at the steps. All the air inside me is just bursting to escape. You’re standing beside your bike, which I didn’t see this morning. Looks like you knew I would need a quick getaway. Relieved, and feeling the threat of tears swelling in my throat, I climb onto the crossbar and tuck up my knees.

YOU

Ready?

More people are streaming from the front doors of school and I call to you as if you’re a mile away.

ME

Go!

We pull away and from the first turn I know where you’re taking me. The weather has darkened and heavy clouds have blackened the sky. The trees meet overhead, making a tunnel of this stretch of road. On sunny days there is perfect dappled light but today even the weather knows to be bleak and heavy. I plead with myself not to take the easy road—to deny it, to shout from the rooftops that it isn’t true that I care about Mia, just to be the same as everyone else. I can be brave. Feeling the wind against my face, I’m saved by the shadows of the trees. I feel you behind me, standing up, pressing into the pedals as we climb uphill. You power us forward, the dimness getting thicker and thicker as we leave town behind us. We come out of the trees, and when we reach the top of the hill, you stop, barely out of breath. I jump down. Here, at the highest point for miles, where it is always blustery and no one can hear me, I cry into the wind. And it’s not pretty-girl crying. We stand side by side. You take my hand and hold tight, as if I’m hanging from a bridge and you’re all that’s holding me up.

MY KITCHEN. LATER.

Mom is at