It’s enough to form a lump in my throat, but I smile anyway and kiss him again. “I’ll try not to.”
“Good.” He grins, and it’s fucking heartbreaking.
I know Story’s eyes are on me. I can feel them. But when Max runs back to the classroom, and I look up, she’s not there.
I hate it.
And I hate that her absence has been the story of my life for the past six years.
CHAPTER 4
Story
Age 8
“Sophie, come on. We don’t have long . . .”
Annabel stands by the door of the changing room, waving at me to hurry up while I hop about, trying to pull on my outdoor shoes. They’re the ones we only wear for break time. I don’t know why.
Once I’m done, I run toward her and the treasure map she’s waving in my face.
“Where are you going?” asks Mary, pointing at the map in Annabel’s hand. “What’s that?”
“A secret treasure map for school,” Annabel replies.
Mary’s mouth opens into a perfect circle. “Where did you get that from?”
“Sophie and I drew it.”
“So it’s not arealtreasure map?”
“Sure it is,” I say, pulling the door open. “We’re going on an adventure with it. Do you want to come?”
Mary looks nervously toward Mrs. Stevens, our art teacher. She’s such a goody-goody and always needspermission for everything. But my granny always says it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission, which I think means you have more adventures if you don’t ask.
And we’re not doing anything naughty, anyway.
Last week, Mrs. Stevens set the task of creating something based on an object she gave us, and today, we had to finish it. Annabel and I were given a pirate’s hook, just like inPeter Pan. I saw that Hendricks was given a shell, and I think he and Miles painted a beach.
We always have to go in pairs, and Annabel and I were together.
We have art with the other Year 3 class, so Hendricks pairs with Miles, or sometimes he pairs with Jack or Thomas. But never me. Never me in any of our shared classes because the boys all stick together. And the girls stick together.
I don’t mind, though, because I get to sit next to him for the rest of the day since our desks are together in our classroom.
When we get back, he’ll tell me what he did on break, which is usually playing with a ball or talking about horses with Miles. It’s so boring, but when Hendricks is done, I tell him all about the adventures the girls had during break, and I like it when he listens to my stories because he always smiles.
Sometimes I wake up in the morning and think about what my story for Hendricks will be for the day.
I already know that today’s will be good.
“Come on, Mary.” I hold the door open, waiting for her to make a decision. “Let’s make a treasure hunt.”
“Okay, I’m coming,” she finally replies.
“Follow me,” I whisper, and lead the three of us outside over to the far side of the playground, near the bushes.
If you time it right, you can sneak behind the mound on the edge while the teacher isn’t looking, and then no one can see you.
