Ether Read Free

energy of a
cocker spaniel. She speaks with a fevered rush, “OMG, you’re really here! The
rumours are totally flying. Piper swears that you died and then came back.
Don’t worry, I set her straight, you just mostly died. I can’t imagine. It was
terrible right? Were your parents totally furious with Derrick or are they more
‘accidents happen’ and stuff? Can you believe how rude Matt was to me at the
hospital? We’ve been friends since we were babies! How could I possibly over stimulate
you?” 
                I
alternately smile and shrug as she races on, leading me down the hallway. Mandy
is everything I’m not; rich, popular and talkative. We’ve been friends since
before Mandy could speak, if there was ever such a time.
                We’re
sitting next to each other in first period English when Mandy finally pauses
and looks at me expectantly. “Uhh...” I stall, trying to recall her most recent
questions, but I tuned her out after the first barrage, so I take a wild guess.
“My mom is still in overprotective mode; I’m supposed to go right home after
school.”
                Mandy makes
a slight ‘tsk’ sound, “You have to see Derrick some time, you can’t avoid him
forever. It was a terrible accident but he was pretty badly hurt too. You know
it’s not his fault. It’s a completely vicious rumour about him drinking. He
would never do something like that. And besides, he was doing you a favour. If
you hadn’t asked for a lift, you’d both be completely fine right now. Not that
I’m blaming you. I’m just saying it’s not really fair to blame him either. You
know? So don’t, like, hate him okay? Or me, I would never have introduced you
if I’d known what would happen-”
                My hand
balls into a fist at my side, but I keep the smooth, impassive look on my face.
I want to scream at Mandy, tell her it sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But a
little part of me wonders. Why did I get into that car with him? I don’t even
remember that part.
                Our English
teacher, Mrs. McTab, a shrivelled, angry woman who always dresses in cheerful
floral prints and made me cry in seventh grade, glares in my direction, like I’m
the one talking. “Ms. Pierce?” she says in her clipped nasal voice.
                I ignore
her, as always, and lean closer to Mandy, “Seriously, I’m not blaming anyone.
I’m just supposed to rest and take it easy.” 
                “Ms.
Veltz.”  It’s amazing how much aggravation and venom teachers can squeeze into
two syllables. Mandy turns her bright white, winning smile on Mrs. McTab, all
at once the perfect, diligent student. Her ability to dissemble is easily her
most useful talent.
                The day
quickly turns into a series of make-up homework assignments, high speed Mandy
prattle, and whispering voices. All of my teachers and the bulk of the student
body have developed a keen interest in me. I’m starting to miss the days of
being invisible and unknown.
                By the time
gym class rolls around, my head is aching and I’m fed up with all the
attention. When Mr. Tenison (otherwise known as Coach T) banishes me to the
bleachers, I’m prepared to accept it as a blessing, until I realize that the
entire class will have nothing else to look at while they ran laps. Lucky me.
                Matt waves
to me as he passes the bleachers, which earns me a few scathing looks from the
other girls. I let my eyes wander the green field beyond the track and beyond
that, the wild wooded area. The school is very proud of the ‘natural beauty’ of
our campuses.  It is a pretty view from the windows but it’s usually
populated with smokers of both kinds and kids ditching class, not my normal
crowd. As I turn my head I notice a flash of colour and movement. I swing my head
around, staring at the forest at the end of the field, but see nothing. I