The Sound of Ice

22

The week before midterms, Sam, Veronica, and I study together. The only exam I have to worry about is math; French and History have both been really easy this semester. We work in the kitchen when Mom makes dinner or we go to AJ's when she doesn't, comparing notes under the bright fluorescent lighting. Well, more like Sam gives us his old notes.

On the Sunday morning before exam week starts, Mom's eyes go wide when she reads the newspaper.

"Sam's on the front page!" she says, leaning over the counter in her bathrobe and stirring a mug of coffee.

Veronica and I look up from the table. "Why?" I ask.

"Oh my goodness," Mom says, flipping the page. "He won a scholarship. A huge scholarship."

"Let me see," Veronica says, and Mom hands her the paper. She crunches her cereal loudly as her eyes scan through the fine print. "Something science-y. Well, we all knew he was smart. That's no surprise."

I grab the paper from her hands and look at it for myself. There's a blurry photo of Sam on the front, shaking hands with the principal and holding a plaque. Even in grainy picture, I can tell he's blushing, and his smile is wide and genuine.

My eyes find the words University of Toronto. I frown. "Does that mean he's going to Toronto for school?"

"We can ask him later, I suppose," says Mom, scratching her hair and stretching. "Is he coming over for dinner?"

"I think we're going to AJ's for dinner for last minute cramming," says Veronica, turning to me. "Right?"

"Yeah, sure," I say. The wind howls outside the window and Mom shivers in her thin robe and old pajamas.

"Well, tell him I said congratulations," says Mom. "He is one smart kid."

"We'll tell him, Mom," says Veronica. As Mom shuffles out of the kitchen and down the hallway, Veronica's eyes slide over to mine. "What?"

"Nothing," I say. "He just didn't tell us about this."

"So?"

"I don't know."

Veronica rolls her eyes like I'm being stupid. 

~

After a physical therapy appointment for my ankle, I head over to AJ's to meet Veronica and Sam. I push through the glass front door, the bell jingling, and kick snow off my boots.

It's busier in here than normal, the background noise of clanking silverware and quiet conversation filling the air. I slide into a cracked leather booth and pull off my gloves and hat.

"Hey, Cameron." AJ appears at the table with a small notebook in hand. "The usual?"

"Yeah, thanks," I say. "And for Sam and Veronica, too. They should be here soon."

As he walks away, I pull my textbook out of my backpack, trying to organize my old math tests and quizzes. I bite my lip as I scan through the equations. I don't know any of this shit. I can't afford to fail this exam, though.

There's a voice on the other side of the diner that makes me look over my shoulder.

"Claire, don't," says Matthew Gonzalez. He's standing by the booth in the back, running a frustrated hand through his short hair.