“It is a beautiful day, isn’t it?Maybe we can—”
I shut my mouth, listening.“Did you hear that?”I whisper.It sounded like…
There it is again, an angry growl.Like a wounded animal.Except this animal is a boy with his fists clenched, howling at the treetops.
Careful not to be seen, I pick up my favorite friend and duck behind a tree, poking my head out far enough to see him.He kicks the ground, sending a rock flying.Tiptoeing to the next tree, slowly getting closer, I watch him pull at his hair and cry out again.But he doesn’t sound as angry anymore.He sounds hurt… sad.
The boy topples to the ground as if his legs are made of spaghetti and buries his face in his arms with his knees pulled up tight.His back shakes, and I know he’s crying.
I am standing beside his tree now.He still doesn’t know I’m here.Most people don’t notice me.Sometimes, I pretend to be invisible to see how long it takes before anyone pays attention.I’ve gone a whole day before.Well, until my mom called me inside for dinner, but I don’t really count that.Mom always sees, even when I wish I was really invisible.
Without touching him, I sit on the ground, pulling my legs up too.I hug them to me and rest my chin on top of my knee.I sit there while he cries.He cries for a long time, but I don’t move.
When he finally stops, I don’t look at him.I remain perfectly still, like I’m a statue.He sniffles and lets out a big breath of air.Then he leans his shoulder against mine.I glance over at him, only moving my eyes.He leans against me more, like he might fall over.I lean back because he’ll push me over if I don’t.He’s bigger than me even though we’re the same age.
I slowly turn my head.His face is red from crying, and he has a bruise on his cheek.Maybe he’s just an angry boy.Right now, he seems more sad than angry.
His eyes find mine looking at him.They are dark like the dirt.And when they look in mine, it’s like he sees me—like he’d see me even if I were invisible.He doesn’t say anything.I wait, but he still doesn’t talk.Instead, he leans against me again.
I swallow.I’m a statue.Strong and solid for him to lean against.I offer him my hand without looking at him, and he takes it.His hand is hot and sweaty.Or maybe mine is cold and dry.We sit there and breathe for a very long time.Perfectly still, except for our lungs.
“Where are your friends?”I whisper.
“I don’t need any,” he grumbles, releasing my hand and crossing his arms.
“Everyone needs a friend.”I set my favorite next to him.She’s purple and fluffy.“Here, you can have one of mine.She’s the best cuddler.And has really great taste in jewelry.”
He looks down at her and fights a smile.“Is that supposed to be a joke?”
I don’t realize what he means at first.Then when I do, I laugh.She’s wearing a Ring Pop on her arm.He laughs too.
The boy picks her up and stands.“Thanks.”
“Sadie!Are you in the woods again?”my mother calls for me.I can hear her stomping on the leaves and branches.“Why can’t you play on the playground with everyone else?”
When I look for the boy, he’s gone.
Class of oh-five baby!” Danika hollers as we wait to line up for graduation.
“Why can’t it just be five?”Darcy taps a finger on her chin.We all pause to consider it.She shakes her head.“Nope.Doesn’t sound right.”
Our moms took pictures of us in our dresses in front of the high school with our backs to the camera, looking over our shoulders, each holding up a hand to represent the year: 2-0-0-5.
I stretch up onto my toes, searching the sea of caps and gowns for Jonathan.Collin comes bursting into the gym, out of breath.
“I’m here!”he declares, hands in the air.“Graduation may begin.”
“Where’s Jonathan?”I ask him.He looks confused.“Isn’t he with you?”
He shakes his head, scanning the graduates with me.“He left before I did.Said he forgot something and would meet me and Jane here.You haven’t seen him?”
I search his face, trying to determine if we should be worried.
“Are his mom and Ryan here?”
He shrugs.
An announcement quiets everyone and instructs us to line up.Jonathan is supposed to be three spots behind me, Lyle Quincy and Kendra Randolf between us.But he’s not there when I get in line.I’m still swiveling my head in search of him when we march out of the gymnasium and onto the football field.
