This Is How I Find Her by Sara Polsky

Author:Sara Polsky
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Albert Whitman & Company
Published: 2013-07-24T16:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

I’m glad my locker is a few hallways away from Natalie’s, because the next day, when I slide down in front of it to eat my lunch, I don’t have to worry that she’ll walk by when I don’t want to see her.

When I got back to Aunt Cynthia and Uncle John’s house last night, hurrying up the stairs to avoid everyone, I found a message on my phone from Dr. Choi’s office, asking me to meet with him this afternoon. This is a message for Sophie Canon. Dr. Choi would like to discuss Amy’s treatment plan. Another reminder that I had stopped thinking about her for one afternoon.

Now, once again, she fills my thoughts despite all my attempts to distract myself. I try to sink into the familiar rhythms of my lunch period, tuning out the sounds of lockers slamming on either side of me. I chew my sandwich absentmindedly as I fly through the equations I was supposed to balance for chemistry class today. I have half an hour to get through them all and review my notes in case there’s a pop quiz.

But when I finish the problem set and look back over my work, I don’t even need my calculator to see the page is covered with careless errors, reactants I forgot to multiply and elements I didn’t balance. For once, I give up on the assignment before lunch ends. I slam the book shut, leaving the sheet of messy equations inside, now with a crease probably slanted across the page. I stare at the floor, suddenly noticing how many of the feet that pass me are in clusters while I sit here by myself.

And when I open my locker, looking for something else to do, all I can see is the inside of the door, empty of photos or postcards or reminder notes or even one of those small magnetic mirrors. If I hadn’t just used my own combination on the lock, I would have no idea the few books piled inside belong to me at all.

—

After lunch, after chemistry—where I guess my way through the pop quiz—after gym and English, skipping art is easy. Easier than trying to tell Natalie why I rushed out of the pharmacy and had gone by the time she came outside. Why I can’t stay after school to work on our art projects. Easier than telling her the way my stomach hurts when I think about the conversation I have to have with Dr. Choi this afternoon. And much easier than explaining to Natalie who Dr. Choi is in the first place. I could make up a story, but when I try to think of something, my mind stays empty.

So as everyone else scurries to eighth period, I hurry down the hall, head down, and push through the exit, listening for the now-familiar ka-thunk as the door locks behind me. James hasn’t followed me down the hall this time, and I ignore the part of me that wishes he had.

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