A Wish For Her
“Is that her?”
“Shh … here she comes.”
“Oh … her.”
We avert our eyes as she walks by. We clutch our books tightly to our chests, stare down at our sneakers, and hold our breath as she passes. Whispers follow her like shadows as she scurries up the stone stairs, through the metal doors. Lisa and I exchange looks. The bell rings in our ears, and we head inside.
“Who’s she with today?” Lisa asks at lunch.
“Toby,” I scoff, biting into my sandwich.
“Figures. Apparently they had a great time at Jack’s apartment last weekend.” I make a face.
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