Palindrome

Five

Chapter 5

It's been a week.

Paxton hasn't hitched a ride with me since that morning. He texted me saying he's found someone else to carpool with.

Good, it worked.

I haven't seen him much since then. During lunch, I've spotted him sitting with a bunch of orchestra kids I recognize. That's pretty much it. I ended up getting a ninety on my assignment for English. Nothing much has happened since then. Every day bleeds into the other.

Except.

I keep replaying my last conversation with Abraham. We talked about random things, football, the upcoming fine arts showcase. When we reached the door to my class, I thanked him ready to walk into class when-

"Aarohi"

"Yeah?"

He hesitated, and for the first time, I notice the drop in cadence in his voice. There are dark shadows under his eyes, patched with a weak smile.

"Abraham, what's wrong?"

"Aarohi when we were together I.."

His voice trailed off. My first thought goes straight to him cheating on me. Which wouldn't make any sense because it's Abraham? Still, I can't stop the question from coming out.

"Did you cheat on me?"

His face transformed into a mask of horror, "Fuck no."

"Then?"

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while and I-"

Before he could finish the thought the bell rang cutting him off. Shooting a wary glance at his home ec class opposite to my Lang classroom he said, "To be continued?"

I nodded. Then he was gone as soon as he showed up.

I haven't told Nagi about the last part of our conversation. Or anyone for that matter.

Another person to stress about. He was supposed to be out of my life. Make an occasional appearance. Now I'm worried about the strain in Abraham's voice. The lack of bounce in his steps.

"Remind me why I'm here again? I didn't make it past districts," Nagi whines.

"Moral support because that's what good deca members do," I justify lamely.

Rolling her eyes, she goes back to etching something in color on her hand. She's always wanted a quote sprawled on her wrist or her family name in her grandfather's writing. After his death, she gave herself a tiny tattoo on her rib cage- a rose that he drew for her as a kid.

If I had a tattoo on my wrist then maybe I'd stop doing whatever I'm doing. Papa would never allow it. I'd probably be disowned for it.

Kidding.

Twirling my phone in my hand, I stare straight ahead at the screen. That's when I nearly drop my phone. Paxton's here. He's talking to the officers who are laughing at something he said.

"Damn it's the hot new theater kid," Nagi says.

"Excuse me?" I repeat, hoping I had heard her wrong. All Nagi does is nod, her eyes still fixed on what I think is a bird on her hand.

"Yup, he's a lead in our winter musical."

"You said he's new."

"He's good," she states simply, setting down her colored pens to admire her finished product. It's a blinding phoenix with fiery winds spreading against her pale skin. Narrowing her eyes at me, she blows on her illustration.