The Easy Part of Impossible - Sarah Tomp Page 0,10

peanut butter and banana. When she took a sip of the creamy deliciousness, the feel of cold in her throat and stomach was somehow a just-right soothing discomfort. Nerves had kept her from eating breakfast, but this was exactly what she needed.

“Did you even add a shot of . . .”

“Coffee,” said Maggie, looking amused.

“Oh, Mags, I am yours. Forever. You have no idea.”

“You’re right. I had no idea.”

“Hmm?” said Ria, still savoring the sweet perfection.

“It’s from Benny. He said you’d need it today.”

Brain freeze.

“You two.” Maggie shook her head. “It’s so messed up that neither of you can admit how much you miss the other.”

Ria made her way to the counseling office to pick up her schedule. Thanks to her special-education paperwork and modified graduation requirements, she always had to be counseled before each new school year. She hadn’t bothered trying to explain her schedule to Sean. He probably didn’t even know her remedial support classes existed. They were the kind of thing you either needed or they were invisible.

She didn’t mind discovering a crowd in Mrs. Sellers’s office. It only meant she’d have longer before she had to face any actual classes. She’d spent many hours in the counseling center. This office was the first stop whenever there was a problem brewing. Diving and meds had helped her do better in school, but some things had no cure.

Ria knew Mrs. Sellers kept a stash of dark chocolate in her desk. There were puzzles and games behind the college reference brochures. She’d mastered genius level for the peg puzzle during sophomore year when she’d been accidentally put in advanced Spanish. As if maybe she’d somehow be able to read, write, and conjugate verbs in a different language. Her grade had ended up being similar to the one she had in English, so maybe it wasn’t that much of a mistake. Benny understood. That’s why he’d convinced her parents she’d do better to spend her time diving. She took a sip of the perfect smoothie he’d sent for her. More proof that he knew her best.

Today it wasn’t the usual group of misfits and troublemakers she was used to seeing in the counseling office. Even Cotton was here. She sat in his row, two seats over. He was working in his notebook as she studied his profile, the sharp edge of his chin. Beneath his curls, his broad shoulders rolled toward his lap. His bent legs barely fit in the space between his chair and the one in front of him. His arms, busy drawing, looked like they could reach her. In reflex, she extended her own arm toward him to measure the distance. He turned and looked her. “Hi, Ria.”

She got up and moved to the seat beside him, careful to keep a barrier of space between her arm and his. Now she could see the page on his lap was filled with circles, squares, and rectangles.

“I keep thinking about the cave.”

“Yes,” he said, like that was to be expected.

Mrs. Sellers stepped out of her office then, holding a stack of papers, so Cotton looked straight ahead and Ria settled back in her chair. She realized she’d been absentmindedly ripping petals off her flowers. Not like it mattered. They were already dead, even if they didn’t know it.

As she scanned the room, trying to figure out what this group had in common, she saw what she’d missed. Cotton had mapped the room. Each shape stood for a piece of furniture. She pointed to a spot in his notebook, and whispered, “You are here.” He nodded; then, a full second later, grinned.

“Good morning, Pierre High seniors,” said Mrs. Sellers. “Each of you has been approved for a modified day schedule. You’ll need to pick up your official paperwork and have it signed by your supervising mentor.

“If you’re taking online classes, we will receive the electronic updates. Those of you enrolled in classes at the community college will need to get a signature from both your teacher and the dean of the department. If you are enrolled in a work-study program, your immediate supervisor will need to sign for you. And those of you enrolled in other endeavors”—she met Ria’s eyes—“will make other arrangements.”

She smiled in reply. Then felt her face flush hot and red.

Even though she’d assumed she’d be gone by now, the school had kept her minimum schedule the way Benny had arranged for last year. He’d made sure she only had to take three classes, each one designed