What the Wind Can Tell You by Sarah Marie Jette

Author:Sarah Marie Jette
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Islandport Press
Published: 2018-04-11T17:55:30+00:00

8

“Stand back.”

Julian caught the seriousness in my voice and moved to the other side of the corridor. I twisted my lock, carefully entering the combination. I leaned my hip against the door, lifted the latch, and allowed the door to spring open.

Notebooks, highlighters, gym socks, sweatshirts, a hairbrush, and sheets of paper spilled out across the floor.

“Does this always happen?” Julian asked.

“No.” I smiled. “Usually, I stand by the door and stop the avalanche, but I wanted you to get the full effect.”

Julian stooped and gathered up my notebooks. I collected the highlighters and crammed them into a pencil case.

“I’m not touching those,” Julian said, pointing his chin at my socks. “How many pairs?”

“I don’t know. Six? I meant to take them home weeks ago, but, you know, I just haven’t.”

“It’s the same under your bed.”

“You’ve never seen under my bed.” I paused and considered the power of Las Brisas. “Wait, have you seen under my bed?”

“No,” Julian laughed. “But I’ve heard Mama and Papa complain about it.”

Julian tucked my notebooks under some worn-out textbooks on my locker shelf as I balled up my socks. He turned to inspect the inside of my locker door and smiled at his reflection in the small mirror. He ran his fingers over the stickers layered like a frame around it. His eyes moved down, to the photo.

“Anna’s dad took it. He gave me a copy.” I stepped forward, rolling up my sweatshirts. I quickly stuffed them in the bottom of my locker and moved to close the door, but Julian’s hand pushed it back open.

“This was from the Winter League Championship?” Julian asked. “You’re wearing your special sneakers.”

I nodded.

“The trophy is so shiny.”

I stood beside Julian and looked at the photo with fresh eyes. Frizzy hair framed my forehead, and my uniform stuck to my skin with sweat. My arm curled around Anna’s neck, her arm wrapped around my shoulders. Anna had changed the elastics around her braces to our team colors (white and blue) just before the championship game. You could see them in the photo—all of them. Her smile was that big. My lips were parted in a smile, but . . .

“Your eyes,” Julian whispered.

“What about them?”

“They’re sad.” He leaned in closer and then looked over at me.

I shook my head.

“No, Julian. They look worried because I was worried.”

I pressed my sweatshirts down and stacked my socks on top.

“If you think opening my locker was tricky, closing it is even harder. Watch.”

I reached for the papers and placed them on top of my mound of clothing. With my hairbrush holding everything in place, I whipped my locker closed, pulling my hand out at the last moment.

“It would be easier if it wasn’t so full of clothing,” Julian observed.

“I know.”

Julian looked at me for a moment. I knew he was still thinking about the photo.

“Where do you want to go next?” I asked.

“Let’s just wander,” Julian suggested.

The hallway smelled of mop water, sneakers, and pencil clippings. Las Brisas hadn’t changed a thing.

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