“I’ve been at home.”
Her hair is a bit of a mess. I move some of it out of her face. I whisper, “You seem tired.”
“I get it, I look terrible,” she says, leaning back against the lockers.
“I didn’t say that.”
“I’ve had a lot of stuff to deal with.” She looks around us. “And I don’t like being back here.”
“You mean, at school?”
She lowers her gaze.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Mika looks at me. “There’s a vigil tonight. It would be nice if you came, too.”
“There’s another one?”
“It’s a candlelight vigil,” she says. “The school asked my family to put it together. Everyone is supposed to meet in town later tonight. I could really use some help.”
Sam and I have another call planned tonight. I don’t want to keep him waiting on me, wondering where I am. But I can’t tell Mika this. What should I say to her? “I don’t know if I can yet…”
Mika gives me a look. “So you’re gonna miss this one, too?”
“Mika—” I start.
“I don’t know why I asked,” she says, picking her bag up from the floor. “I knew you wouldn’t go. I’ll see you later.”
A pang of guilt stabs me as I stand there, unsure of what to say. If only she knew my reasons. I can’t leave things like this between us. As Mika walks off, I grab her arm.
“I’ll come! I’ll come to the vigil.”
“You don’t have to,” she says, taking her arm back.
“Iwantto. I mean it. I want to be there this time.”
Mika studies my face, reading me like she always does. “It’s at eight o’clock, if you want to meet at my house. We can go together.”
I’m supposed to call Sam around that time. But I’m sure I can call him right after. He’ll understand. I don’t want to disappoint Mika again. I hate seeing her this way.
“I’ll be there. I promise.”
“Tonight,” she says to make sure.
“Tonight.”
I throw my bag on the floor the second I get home. The house is quiet—my mother must still be at work. As I open the door to my room, a breeze blows through the window, sending papers flying off my desk. I hurry over to shut it, but the frame is stuckagain. I give it a few good hits but it doesn’t budge, so I leave it alone. I don’t even bother to pick up the papers. I just walk around them, leaving them where they are. I was planning to write in my new journal once I got home, work on my writing sample, but I’ve lost the motivation. Today was draining. There’s an ache in my left temple that’s hard to ignore. I keep thinking about Liam and Taylor and Mr. Gill and that stupid paper I forgot to turn in.
I wish I could talk to Sam right now. I miss having him around. I miss being in the same room with him, my head on his chest, talking through whatever was bothering me. He was always there to listen. Even when he didn’t know what to say back. I check my phone. Our next call isn’t until later tonight. I know I should wait, but I’ve had such a terrible day, and am so desperate to hear from him. His shirt still hangs on the back of the chair. I stare at it for a long time before I decide to take the chance and call him anyway.
The phone rings longer than usual. But eventually he answers. His voice is warm in my ear.“Hey…”
“Sam.”
“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon,” he says. “Is everything’s alright?”
“I couldn’t wait to call you,” I say. “I hope that’s okay.”
