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Yours squiggle pretty good.”“I know. Way it is; you play what you’re dealt. Good hand.”“You’re new, right? How do you like our school?”“OK, what’s the phrase, run of the mill? I got here late last winter, early March, last marking period I guess.”“Really, didn’t see you? School’s top rated you know, best around.”“Can’t always be sure of what rises to the top.” She offered me an Oreo.“Plans, long range I mean, not this weekend? Where are you headed? Do you know? College?” I mentally put the weekend on hold.“Get out of here next year with some summer courses; finish college in three, masters before I’m twenty.”I nodded and chewed, puzzled and impressed. Most of the people I knew didn’t plan much past their next bathroom break. “How old are you, don’t mind my asking?”“Not unless it’s for foul purposes. I’m jailbait, thirteen, but I’m taking junior English this semester.” She smiled.“Thirteen. So you graduate at fourteen or fifteen, right?” I moved her into a different category.She. I couldn’t tell if I was angry, upset, happy, or distressed. She frowned and tapped her chin, holding her glass in her palm facing the ceiling between her index and middle finger. “Oh, Jason! Why, do you know him?” “How do you know him, Mary?” I asked more loudly, becoming frustrated. I thought I was finished with this. She frowned, hiccupping and swaying back a little. “I met him last year through my roommate that moved to Scotland. Her brother’s friend, I think.” “What’s he doing here?” I asked more calmly, trying to look more curious than desperate. Her mouth made a little ‘o’ of surprise. “He’s here?!” She started to stumble away as if searching for him, but I caught her arm and repeated my question. “He lives a couple hours away from here, and I didn’t think he’d accept the invitation. We must catch up...” she babbled. My heart was pounding. I walked quickly out of the room, snaking through people and more rooms, looking for his face again. It took me a couple minutes.
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