OCR Text |
Show Fair Forever 49 I don't try to explain. sj: 4s >H ^ ^ room, sailing one onto the Upstairs, I look again, but I can't find the calculator. I've searched in my closet and under my bed and in the desk. Now, everything is scattered, strewn on the floor and the bed. Giving up, I exit onto my catwalk where I consider all the reasons I shouldn't stay in school. 1) I don't have any friends-except Katie, and that's a maybe. 2) I have trouble with algebra. . 3) I hate Social Studies. 4) I need to practice rowing. A light breeze blows, scattering papers from my catwalk. I pick it up and examine it, then fold it into a paper airplane and launch it toward the bay. The plane spirals down, crashing hose first. I touch my scar, and suddenly I remember the feel of Katie's palm against my chest. Finally I go,downstairs and tell Mom about the calculator. After hearing the news, she bites her lip and comes to my room. But she can't find it either-not in my backpack-not in my desk-not in my dresser. It's gone. Sitting on my bed, Mom stares at the wall. She sighs and buries her face in her hands% ( "It's not a big deal," I compiain, trying not to feel guilty. "I can look for it later . . . especially if I home school." . Suddenly, Mom begins to sob., . |