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We got close to first hour, and Kenzie walked up to us, thumbs hooked on her backpack straps. “Look at you two, all cute together. Deena, aren’t they so cute?”
Deena walked up behind Kenzie, giving us an appraising smile. “V cute.”
April laughed quietly, and I said, “She’s more than cute.”
Someone cleared their throat behind us, and I turned to see our English teacher standing with her arms crossed. “I’d love to hear how lovely April is, but class is about to start.”
April’s cheeks flamed, but I smirked. “Maybe I could get some extra credit for my sonnet writing abilities, Mrs. Morgan?”
She laughed and said, “Get in class, Fabio.”
I had no idea what that meant, but I gave April a last squeeze of her hand before letting go and returning her backpack. “Until later, mi amor.”
She shook her head at me, smiling all the while. She had a beautiful smile, and the only thing better? Knowing I was the one who put it there.
Thirty-Seven
April
I reached into my locker,finding a folded piece of notebook paper. Glancing around to see if I could tell who left it, I opened it and scanned the writing inside.
I think you look pretty good on my arm.
I snort-laughed. Diego may not have been the kind of guy to write a poem, but he was the kind to make me laugh. To make me feel like a senior in high school instead of an adult with the weight of a family on my shoulders.
I couldn’t explain to him how much that meant. But I hoped to give him back even a tenth of what he’d given me.
I put the folded sheet of paper in my backpack and then shut my locker. I was stalling, really. I had a meeting with Birdie during my current events class, and I wasn’t ready. My chest already felt heavy as I walked through the thinning stream of students toward her office.
The bell rang, and the sound of footsteps on tile floors disappeared.
It was just me and this door.
I traced the name plate with my gaze.
Room 109
Birdie Bardot
Guidance Counselor
The room needed a warning sign instead.
May make you face your fears.
I took a deep breath. I’d faced harder things than talking about colleges. This would be a walk in the park.
I hoped.
I knocked on the door, and Birdie sang, “Come in.”
A step into the room took me back to my first day at Emerson Academy. I’d only been here a couple months, but it felt like a million years. I already had a friend, a boy who carried my backpack for me. One who made me smile.
But this meeting was just another reminder that my next move was coming—sooner than I could even imagine.
Birdie stood behind her desk and picked up a ceramic mug. “I’m out of coffee. Mind walking with me?”
I lifted my eyebrows, surprised, and half expected her to be talking to someone behind me. Her bird cooed like I should answer, so I nodded. “Sure.”
