Radiant - By Christina Daley Page 0,15

up again. They only paused when the alarm clock went off.

She showered, dressed, and met Mom in the kitchen for breakfast.

"Are you eating dinner with Ba again tonight?" Mom asked.

Mary shook her head. "I've still gotta catch up on some things. I'll stop by and see her for a little bit, but I'll come home to study. Do you want me to get a burger or something and bring it to you for dinner?"

"No, you don't have to do that," Mom said.

Mary looked at her. "You need to remember to eat."

"Yes doctor," Mom chuckled. "But I've got it covered with leftovers. By the way, your eyes look a little red. Did you sleep well last night?"

Mary stirred her cereal. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

Mom stared at her for a moment. "Well, if you change your mind, you always know I'm here."

"I know. Thanks."

Mary hadn't finished her cereal by the time breakfast was over. After she kissed her mother and said goodbye, she headed for the bus stop. At school, her radar immediately went up for Carter. But she didn't see him in the halls. During Pre-Cal, she kept wondering if he would be waiting outside the door like he did yesterday when class was over. But he wasn't. She didn't see him after Art, nor did she find him when she meandered by the lunchroom and the computer lab. English was hell again. But still no Carter in the hall.

Finally, Mary arrived in Physics. Carter, wearing that thick black sweater again, sat in his usual seat on the back row. He didn't talk to his friends, and they ignored him as well.

Mary took her seat and tried to concentrate on the lesson. She stole a couple glances back and saw that Carter had his book, but it wasn't open and he didn't take any notes. Also, his eyes stayed forward.

When the final bell rang, Mary deliberately put her things away slowly. She watched out the corner of her eye as Carter put the strap of his bag over his shoulder and walked to the front of the room. She waited for him to come say hello.

But he didn't. He walked out of the room without even looking her way.

Mary wasn't disappointed. She was hurt. And she knew that she deserved it for talking to him the way she did yesterday.

She shouldered her bag and left the room. Before she could leave, she needed to swing by David's locker and remind him to return her expensive brush. He had a project to finish during lunch, and he asked if he could use her "bling" brush. David did help her before on other things, so Mary was okay with letting him use it. This one time.

She heard the basketball team practicing in the gym as she passed by. As she headed up a stairwell, she heard giggling. At the top, she saw a tall, gorgeous girl flirting with a tall and semi-gorgeous guy. Mary didn't know the guy, but she recognized the girl as Carter's girlfriend, Laci. Mary lowered her head as she tried to duck past them.

"Hey, you were in that accident," Laci said. "You okay?"

Mary turned. "Oh. Yeah. I'm fine, thanks."

"Good." Laci turned her attention back to the guy.

Mary started to walk up the stairs again. But then she stopped and turned. "You're Carter's girlfriend, aren't you? How's he doing?"

Laci looked at her. "He's okay, I guess. But I'm not his girlfriend."

Mary wrinkled her brow. "You're not?"

"Nah," Laci said. "Not anymore. He's kind of a freak now."

Freak? "Because he's glitchy?" Mary asked.

"That's part of it," Laci said. "He also said some stupid stuff to me. So, I dumped him."

Wow, Mary thought. That accident happened just last week. High school relationships really did rise and fall at the speed of light.

"I see," Mary said. "Well, thanks."

"No prob."

Mary went upstairs and found David waiting for her. "Here's your bling brush," he said, handing it to her. "I washed it and everything. Thanks a bunch for letting me borrow it."

"No problem," she said as she unrolled her brush bag and slipped the long handle into an empty pocket. Mary noticed a slight bruise on the side of his face. "What happened to you?"

He chuckled. "Had a disagreement at our last game." David wasn't really an artist. He was a hockey player. When he moved from Canada with his parents and started going to Lewis Prep, he switched one of his electives to Art because he had