All I want is to leave this place and go to the art studio, where I can be alone.
She crosses her arms. “You don’t sound so sure.”
“I guess I’m an ‘I’ll believe it when I see it’ kind of person.”
“Fair enough.”
We stand awkwardly, and I feel like I have to break the silence. “Thanks for saying something.”
She waves a hand. “Honestly, it wasn’t anything. I’ve known Wyatt since we were in kindergarten. He’s just an asshole.”
I consider her for a while. “You have to know, telling the principal won’t do anything. I know you’re being kind and helpful, but trust me, nothing ever happens. When you try to get people to help, it almost never leads anywhere, because no one wants to do anything. You have to do it yourself.”
She goes quiet, mulling over my words.
“There you are,” Jamie exclaims when he finds me in the art studio hiding behind one of the easels. “I don’t know why I checked thetheater, cafeteria, and gym before coming here. Of course you’d be here.”
I mumble ammmfrom where I’m crouched out of view. It’s last period, but I have it with Alexis and her friends and I don’t want to see them. So I skipped. I haven’t spoken to Alexis since last week. I don’t want to hear whatever excuses on Hayley’s behalf she’ll have this time. Our friendship is hanging on by a loose thread.
Jamie walks up and sits beside me, leaning his back against a cupboard.
I stay quiet, legs tucked to my chest as I scroll through my phone. Of course, still no messages from Alexis. Plenty of texts from Amal, though. She sent pictures of the view from her apartment, which is all the way up on the twenty-sixth floor. It has a balcony that overlooks the Arabian Gulf. There are also several pictures of the inside of her penthouse. It’s wide and beautiful and sandy colored, like the desert molded itself into a house.
Amal:I love it here
Amal:waking up to the athan. I never realized how much I missed this without knowing I did
Amal:people speak ARABIC
Amal:halal P.F. CHANG’S
Amal:I know I’m not helping but oh my god I can’t wait till you visit
Amal:your room is going to be so cute
Amal:call me when you’re free
I’ve looked at the pictures until I can draw them from memory.
Amal being gone is still a raw wound. While she has a new life tosoothe her wounds, I have nothing but the sketchbook and dreams of San Francisco beaches. It’s a fire in my chest I hold on to.
“If you’re here and I’m here,” Jamie says, “then who’s taking notes in class?”
His tone is jovial, too careless for my liking. It’s salt in the wound.
I snap my head up. “What?”
He doesn’t flinch at my tone. He doesn’t even register it. I finally see the anxiety gleaming in his brown eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, worried.
He lets out a laugh and musses his hair. Then he drags his hand over his face, blowing a long breath.
I stare at him.
“I—” he begins, then shakes his head. “Damn it, why do I feel embarrassed?”
I frown. “What’s happening?”
