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What is wrong? Not like
I can confess what I’m feeling.
“Uh, nothing. Something
happened at home is all.”
He watches me reorganize
my stacks. You never talk
much about home. Why not?
Don’t you trust me?
I shut my locker, turn to
look him in the eye. “Not
a whole lot to talk about,
really.” I leave the rest hanging.
Over his shoulder, I notice
Tiffany, now nose to nose
with Billy Burke. Cherie would
flip! “What’s up with her today?”
The question slips out, slick
as Quaker State. Bryce rotates
on one heel. Who? Tiffany?
She got new green contacts.
I guess she’s showing them
off to anyone who’ll notice.
MORTIFIED
That pretty much sums up
how I feel right this minute.
Mortified and relieved.
“Oh,” is all I can manage.
I finish lining up my spare
pens and pencils by color,
just as the bell rings.
