I peered into every classroom. I didn’t care which teachers saw me.
You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this.
“Take my picture,” you said.
So I lined up the old camera.
“Is there film in this?” I asked.
Fiona found me between third and fourth periods.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said. How could I begin to tell her?
“Evan—” She put her hand on my shoulder. Or tried to.
I ducked away. “It’s nothing, Fiona.”
I am not the center of attention.
“You can’t …”
“What, Fiona? What can’t I do?”
“You can’t do this alone.”
“You know what?” I said. “I’ve been doing it alone ever since they took Ariel away.”
away gone exiled over
“What do you mean?” Fiona asked, too much concern in her voice. I couldn’t take it.
“I don’t have to explain!” I shouted, pulling away from her.
I am not the center of anything.