These Gentle Wounds Read Free

total lie, but Walker is only smart on the ice.
    I open my eyes and watch him try to figure out what he wants to say.
    â€œDon’t let him get the upper hand. The team needs you more than we need that douche.”
    It takes me a second to realize that he thinks I left because of Cody. “You’re right,” I say, playing along. “Sorry.”
    He slaps my shoulder with the back of his hand. “Dude. Seriously. You’re going to be invincible next year. Just watch.”
    I nod. Next year. Maybe everything really will be different then. Cody will have graduated. No one else will care much about me spazzing out because I’m going to be starting goalie on a champion hockey team. Or maybe the spins and everything will have stopped by then and I won’t have a reason to keep trying to hide in the shadows. Maybe next year I’ll be normal.
    â€œGordie?” Walker stares at me and the pity starts to seep back into his expression.
    â€œInvincible,” I parrot back, needing to escape. “Yeah. Sure.”
    I push off the lockers and head down the hall.
    Mr. Brooks is blocking the doorway to his classroom, his back to me. But that isn’t what stops me cold. What does that is a flash of short dark hair so raven-black it’s almost blue. It seems to fill up the hall.
    I half-close my eyes and keep walking, hoping I can slip in unnoticed. Instead, Mr. Brooks stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
    â€œGordie. Just who I wanted to see.” He smiles. “Sarah is joining our class today and since the two of you know each other, I hope you won’t mind taking her under your wing and getting her up to speed on the assignments.”
    I narrow my eyes and stare at her incredibly sincere face. She doesn’t look like someone who’s just stretched the truth so far it’s about to snap.
    â€œWe don’t really … ” I begin, but the hand on my shoulder tightens.
    Unlike Sarah, Mr. Brooks really does know everything about me. I used to talk to him all the time when he taught at the middle school, and for a while he was the only one who didn’t treat me like I was nuts. I kind of owe him.
    â€œYeah. Sure,” I say, giving in just as the bell rings. Mr. Brooks ushers us in and I manage to hiss at Sarah, “Why did you … ” before she walks off without answering to take the only open seat, a few rows away from me.
    Mr. Brooks starts talking about Moby Dick , which I read a couple of years ago. That’s just as well, because the chance of me being able to pay attention to class is exactly zero. Instead, I have to fight the urge to keep twisting around to look at Sarah. Her eyes are as dark as her hair, which falls straight down to just the tips of her ears like one of those 1960s models on the old album covers that Kevin’s dad has hanging in the den, and it’s as shiny as newly laid ice. Her smile is really wide, and it makes her eyes light up.
    I don’t want to care, but my fingers tap a rhythm on my jeans as I stare at the clock. This is a double period, with a break in the middle that can’t come quickly enough. I’m already halfway out of my seat when the bell rings and everyone pushes to leave.
    In the hall, I call her name, trying to give my voice that air of nonchalance most kids seem to have perfected by high school, but the word kind of knots around my tongue.
    â€œMe? Are you actually talking to me?” she asks with something resembling a smile.
    â€œYeah, but … ” She shouldn’t be the one asking the questions. Besides, I could probably come up with a pretty long list of reasons why I wouldn’t normally start a conversation with a girl outside English class. Why I never have before.
    â€œWhy are you so quiet, Gordie Allen?”
    I press back against the wall to keep from walking away and get to my real point. “Why did you tell Mr. Brooks that we knew each other?”
    â€œWishful