The Sunspacers Trilogy Read Free

see her again.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “Do you think you boys will be able to stand sharing one dorm room together?”
    “Sure,” I managed to say, realizing that my parents weren’t here. My face was flushed, and I felt cheated. Suddenly all their excuses from other times added up into one big pain. I took a slow deep breath and tried not to show it, but it hurt just the same.
    “Good!” Mr. Green-Wolfe said. “You two are real pals.” The time came to go into the auditorium. Scholarship winners sat together near the front, so I just tagged along automatically after Morey, not paying much attention to anything as we took our seats. Parents sat in the balconies, like elder gods gazing down on their creations. Maybe Mom and Dad were up there, but I was afraid to turn around for even a quick look.
    Holo cams cast 3-Ds of speakers and students above the stage during the ceremony. Havelock “Burning Bush” Bearney, our red-bearded principal, delivered a dull talk about brains and courage and leadership, though he seemed to want us to opt for cooperation if we couldn’t be leaders. Toshiro Saada, the class president, whispered a speech about sacrifice that seemed to exalt self-punishment. Elene Chen, valedictorian and math prodigy, gave a vague but well-organized address on setting your mind toward the right individual goals. My mind wandered as our names were read out in reverse alphabetical order.
    “Joseph Sorby!”
    My name echoed through the auditorium. Morey nudged me when I failed to react.
    I went up to get my diploma, sleepwalking all the way. A giant image of me gazed at the blue ceiling as I marched up and took the tube of silvery plastic from “Burning Bush” Bearney. He shook my hand and grinned at me with threatening teeth. Strangers applauded for me as I went down on the other side. I imagined Marisa making fun of me from her seat among my nine hundred classmates. Morey clapped me on the shoulder as I sat down, and that made me feel good, but I was still anxious to get it over with.
    We finally marched out into the lobby. The doors slid open as the picture taking and gift giving began, and the whole show pushed out into the glare of the noon sun. No one noticed as I slipped away toward the station.
    The tubeway boosted me down to 125th Street in a few minutes. I changed for the local and floated over to West 87th. Anything would have been better than going home just then; I was mad and getting madder by the second.
    A cool breeze was blowing through Central Park when I came up to street level and started down the block to our housing complex. I came to our outside elevator doors and pressed my palm on the print lock. The doors slid open, and I stepped inside, feeling apprehensive as the elevator climbed the side of the building. I would be angry if my parents were home, angrier if they weren’t. The breeze rolled the tops of the trees in the park. Afternoon sunlight cast sharp shadows between the tall buildings. The elevator rushed to the ninetieth floor, and the inner doors opened.
    I hesitated, staring southward to the blue ocean beyond lower New York. Finally I turned away and went inside, wandering slowly down the brightly lit hallway to our apartment.
    Queasiness flooded my stomach as I thumbed the lock plate. I didn’t know what I was going to do or say if they were home.
    Mom jumped me as the door slid open. “I’m so sorry, dearest!” I tried to step back, but it was too late. “We just got back.” She hugged me.
    “Missed a connection,” Dad said.
    “Sure,” I mumbled. My arms hung at my sides.
    “Congratulations,” Dad said.
    Mom was looking into my eyes. Her black hair was piled on her head in a strange swirl. Her face was pale, sad, without makeup, and her eyes were slightly red.
    They had tried to get back, a part of me said, but I wanted to hurt them for making me feel like nothing, even though I could see that they had already been hurting each other.
    “There