through the trees. It’s chilly late March and yet still terrible. I fall behind instantly. Huffing, puffing, wiping sweat from my eyes. My back is already killing me. My parents soldier on, followed by Sully and Church, whose voices scare birds out of the trees. They don’t even look back to see where I am. It’s not as if it matters; we’re following a defined dirt trail laid out between the trees to a cleared-out campsite up in the woods. I used to come when I was younger, but in recent years I’ve been able to wriggle out of it by feigning sickness. I tried again this morning, but Dad said I’d feel better once I was out in the fresh air. I know exactly where they’re going and how to get there, so I stop to sit on a fallen log by the path and pull out my phone.
My signal’s not great out here, but I’m still getting it. I go to my messages. There’s nothing from Wallace, but I told him I was going to be out in the woods for two days, so he probably won’t send anything until he knows I can read it. There are a few new things from Emmy and Max, though. I open the chat window.
Apocalypse_Cow: you should tell that professor to go stick his head up his ass.
Apocalypse_Cow: but with better words. obviously. can’t have a twelve-year-old saying things like that.
emmersmacks: Im fourteen
emmersmacks: I totally could say that if I wanted
emmersmacks: But I wont cause I need a good grade on this test
Apocalypse_Cow: are you going to have him again next semester?
emmersmacks: No this is the last class with him
emmersmacks: But hes the only one who teaches it so if I dont pass I have to take it with him again
Apocalypse_Cow: that’s bullshit. you should go to the department head and say he’s discriminating against you because of your age.
4:31 p.m. (MirkerLurker has joined the message)
MirkerLurker: What’s going on?
Apocalypse_Cow: em’s shitty calc teacher keeps singling her out and making fun of her in class because of how young she is.
emmersmacks: Hes not making fun of me
emmersmacks: He calls me a baby every time I point out something wrong with his equations
emmersmacks: Like I was the one who got the answer wrong and Im just upset about it or something
I love that about Max and Emmy. Weeks without a long conversation, and they let me back into the fold like nothing has changed.
MirkerLurker: That sounds like he’s making fun of you.
MirkerLurker: Actually, it sounds like he’s an asshole. Teachers who call their students babies are assholes, no matter what the ages of the parties involved. You should tell the department head.
emmersmacks: Yeah
emmersmacks: Maybe
emmersmacks: Like I said, I just have to get through the rest of this semester and pass and then I dont have to see him again
Apocalypse_Cow: we’re serious, em. this is not okay. he shouldn’t be doing things like that.
emmersmacks: Can we change the topic now??
“Got a little winded, Eggs?”
I jump and look up. Dad trots back down the trail, smiling until he sees the phone in my hands. I try to stuff it back in my pocket, but it’s too late.
“I told you I wasn’t feeling good,” I say, picking myself up and brushing my pants off.
“I thought we said no phones?”
“You must have only said it to Church and Sully. I didn’t hear it.”
“Eggs.”
I climb up the trail past him. “I was talking to my friends.”
“But this is family time. I’m sure your friends will understand when we get back in a few days.” He catches up to me like he was walking beside me the whole time, and holds out his hand.
I still don’t hand it over. “It was important stuff.”
“I’m sure it was.” His voice is light, appeasing. My skin crawls. The outstretched hand grabs my arm. “Eliza.”
I spin on him. He never uses my real name. “It’s just a phone! I’m probably going to get crappy reception up there anyway! Why do you guys have to take everything away from me?”
“I think you can survive without your phone for two days,” he says in official Dad Voice. “And your mother will agree with me. Now hand it over.”
I tear my phone out of my pocket, shove it at him, then start up the trail following the echoes of my brothers’ voices. Dad stays behind me, probably to make sure I don’t stop again.
I don’t plan on stopping. I’m angry enough to walk for days.
Mom, Church,