The Beginning of After - By Jennifer Castle Page 0,47

finish over the summer?”

“I think so. Mr. Churchwell talked to Nana and said I should contact him as soon as I’m ready.”

Meg nodded and examined my face. “Let me know if you need help, okay?”

I always got better grades than Meg, but I saw she needed to offer something.

“I would love that,” I said, and we smiled at each other.

As soon as I’m ready.

Well, what the heck. I didn’t know what ready was supposed to feel like, so now seemed as good a time as any. The next day, I sent an email to Mr. Churchwell through the school website.

Hi, it’s Laurel Meisner. I’d like to finish my schoolwork and finals for the year. Can you help me?

He wrote back almost immediately, while I was still online, which made me sad to think he was sitting in his office alone, the school emptied of students.

Laurel! I was hoping you’d get in touch and that you are well. I spoke to your teachers, and since you have an A average in all of your classes and you only missed about two weeks of regular course work, they’re going to excuse you from that. However, there is the issue of the New York State Regents exams (U.S. History, English, and Trigonometry this year), which I highly recommend you take if you want to stay on track. You can still do that in August. I will send you some information, and please let me know if you need anything; you can reach me at this address at any time.

Ugh, the Regents. I’d forgotten about those, which I would have taken in June with everyone else if the accident hadn’t happened. Dad would have quizzed me on the practice tests, and Mom would have bought me a bouquet made of one flower for every point I scored above ninety.

Mr. Churchwell had said, Stay on track.

I had a job and was going to therapy and generally functioning as a human being. Was that staying on track? If it was, I wanted to stay some more.

I wrote back to him to say yes, and please, and thank you.

On the day David was scheduled to come in with Masher, I found myself reluctant to put on either of the two scrub shirts we’d bought. One was black and white printed with dogs chasing one another’s tails, and the other was a simple blue with a cat embroidered on the pocket. Both made me look like I was wearing a costume, which I’d liked before today. Now it seemed too obvious.

To feel more like me, I found one of my favorite necklaces: a silver chain with a small silver disk stamped with my name. Toby had given it to me for my last birthday, and I hadn’t been able to admit to him how much I loved it.

I also blow-dried my hair for the first time in weeks.

Was I looking forward to this or dreading it?

You’re going to show him you’re doing just fine, I thought, knowing that it probably didn’t even matter to him whether I was fine or not.

The appointment was for two o’clock, and the morning went slowly. I tried not to keep checking the time. Now that school was out, I was working full days, and it was taking some getting used to. Fortunately, Eve asked me to join her for lunch. It wasn’t an invitation, it was more like, “Tamara said she’ll watch the front desk while we go eat.”

We’d been friendly, but the busy and sometimes tense hospital atmosphere didn’t allow for much chitchat. Which was one of many things I loved about being there, and now I was nervous about having a real conversation with Eve.

She was nineteen, going to the community college and living at home while she “worked on the animal thing,” as she called it. “There are a lot of paths I could take. I’m trying to figure out which one,” she told me over burritos at Taco Bell, with a straight, serious face, and offered no additional explanation. She didn’t ask me any questions about myself, and I didn’t offer. I was just supposed to be some girl in high school, and not have any stories yet.

When we got back, it was one thirty, and although I settled in to do some photocopying, I glanced up every time the front door opened.

David could be early. He could show up late. I didn’t know him well enough to make a call on that.

Eve noticed my anticipation. “Expecting someone?”

“Masher’s

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