In Search of Tomorrow ✓

Twenty

I didn't say anything about the painting to Cameron during lunch, and he didn't ask me about my dad. We just sat in the courtyard with his group of friends, eating our stale cafeteria pizza and enjoying the sunshine.

"There's a soccer game tonight," explained Cameron when I asked why he and the other guys at our table were all wearing the same t-shirt. "The team always dresses to match on game days. You should come watch."

I swallowed my bite of pizza, choking a little. "You know I can't," I said pointedly. "What about Maddie and Clare?"

"You can bring them along." As he said that, Cameron looked at me pointedly, as if I shouldn't have even had to worry about my little sisters—as if he knew what was going on. His increasingly knowing glances were starting to scare me.

Maddie would love to go to a soccer game, I figured, but Clare would put up an enormous fuss. Still, I did deserve to go out and have fun every once and a while, and it was only a soccer game. "I'll be there," I said. "What time?"

"Seven o'clock on the front field."

I took a bite of my pizza, chewed in silence, and then asked in an undertone so his friends couldn't hear, "I saw your painting in the art room today."

"Really?" His eyebrows shot up, but he didn't look surprised. "The one of the mountains?"

"Yeah."

He didn't say anything else about it, nor offer an explanation about why he was painting such a morbid scene. Instead, he shook his cup of water and tipped some ice into his mouth.

"You sure you'll be at the soccer game?" he asked, chewing.

I pushed aside my plate of pizza and started in on my cup of grapes. "Of course, Cameron," I said. "You don't have to worry. I'll be there."

Satisfied, he smiled and began to eat more ice, joining into a conversation his friends were having about the opposing team's stats. I sat back on the bench and popped grapes into my mouth one at a time, wondering how things could feel so right yet in reality be so wrong.

~*~*~

Immediately after lunch, I had American History. I left the table early to go get my things and finish up the last bit of reading I hadn't had time to do the previous night, then hiked across the school to Mr. Copeland's room. There were already two students inside, chatting as they unpacked their backpacks for class.

I sat down in my normal seat in the back and pulled out my enormous textbook, flipping to the pages in question and scanning the passages we were supposed to be prepared to discuss. Slowly, other members of the class began to file in and take seat around me.

The lecture and discussion on urban life in the late nineteenth century passed quickly, and soon I was packing up and getting ready to go to bio. I'd barely contributed to the conversation, which had mostly been dominated by the two most argumentative people in the class.

Swinging my backpack over my shoulder, I thanked Mr. Copeland and then slipped out into the hallway, checking my phone as I walked. Cameron had texted me during class, telling me to wear neon to the soccer game because there was a theme.

Will do, I texted back, then began hurrying down the stairs to my biology classroom before Ms. Reeves could count me late.

When I arrived, Ashley was already at our lab table, sullenly flipping through her notebook. We'd barely spoken since Cameron and I had officially started dating, other than necessary things like, "Can you pass me my scalpel" or "Here's some gloves". I dumped my things next to hers on the table and began unpacking, not acknowledging her.