“ Well, if things change,” I said, starting back for the door. “Let me know. I'd really love to have you there if you can be there.”

“Mmhmm,” he said, staring at his desk. “Sorry.”

I walked out into the hallway and stood there for a moment, wondering what had just happened. His denial refusal to participate had sucked away all of my earlier optimism and enthusiasm. The fund raiser, while not directly for him, affected him the most. We were doing it so he could get his room back to normal, to help him. It felt a little weird to think that we'd be putting on a fundraiser for him that he couldn't even attend.

A lot weird.

TWENTY FOUR

I went back to the counseling office. Even though the bell was about to ring, signaling the end of the school day, I'd decided I'd stay at the school to stay a bit little longer to so I could start putting together a create an actual mock-up schedule schedule for the show. As much as I wanted to get home and see my kids, I knew I needed to hammer out a few more details before I left, as much for the benefit of the show as for my peace of mind. Doing it there was going to be easier than doing it at home because if I waited until the evening to do it, I'd be distracted by attention-needing children. And husbands. So I was laying out a schedule for the talent show night when I nearly rolled out of my chair because Emily was knocking on my door and saying “Mom?” Charlotte was nowhere to be found; I knew she 'd had a meeting with Mrs. Bingledorf earlier and wondered if it had run late.

There was a knock on the door and I looked up.

Emily was standing in the doorway. “Mom?”

“ Oh my god,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I rubbed my eyes. “Are you addressing me here at school? People will find out that you know me.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped all the way into the office, followed by her best friend, Bailey Prat t, who held up a hand and grinned at me. t . “Hey, Mrs. S!” Both of them were wearing black Prism hoodies and I stifled a smile as I stared at their school apparel. The name of the school was embroidered in silver thread but the sweatshirts were devoid of mascots or symbols. When the school first formed and was named a few years ago, the kids unanimously voted for a rainbow as their school logo. This was immediately shot down by the more conservative, homophobic members of the school community. Their next offering was a three-dimensional triangle – an actual prism – but a local pastor who served on the board thought this looked too much like an occult symbol and that idea was nixed, too. So the athletes w ore black and silver uniforms, which wasn't a bad thing, and the students sported the same colors on their apparel, and the school was still mascot-less. Jake had pointed out that it was probably a good thing, since no kid in their right mind would want a walking triangle cheering them on at their games.

“ Hi, Mrs. S!” Bailed said in her boisterous, friendly way.

I pointed smiled at Bailey and looked at Em. “See? She's , like, super excited to see me and she hasn't been ostracized by her peers.”

Em's cheeks blossomed crimson. “Whatever.”

“You have your own office?” Bailey said, chomping on a piece of gum , and looking around. “That was fast. Cool.”

“I'm sharing it,” I said. “With Ms. Nordhoff.”

Bailey nodded , still chomping. . Her hair was the same color as Emily's, a warm, almost golden brown, but she wore hers longer and straighter. “Cool. Pretty soon you'll be working here full-time.”

Emily glared frowned at her. “No . , she won't. ”

Bailey blew a bubble and popped it. “Your mom is cool. She listens to loud music in the car and always has junk food at home. You know what I get? Christian hymns and granola bars.” Bailey grinned at me. “You can kick her out and I'll take her place, 'kay?”

I nodded. “I'll consider that.”

Emily sighed, totally bored with our shenanigans banter . “Yeah. You guys two can go and be besties or whatever .” She looked at me. “Are you leaving soon?”

I shook my head. “No, I 'm gonna need to stay for awhile to work on a few things.”

She sighed again and h H er shoulders dropped. “We need a ride.”

“Isn't there a late bus?” I asked.

“Yeah, but we don't wanna take it,” Emily said.

“Why?”

“It smells,” Bailey said, sitting down on the corner of my desk and blowing another bubble. “Plus, Alex Madden is on it.”

Emily pummeled her in the shoulder. “Stop.”

Bailey rubbed her shoulder and wrinkled her nose at me. “Alex likes Em. He's kind of a dork, but also kinda nice.”

I loved Bailey. Not just because she liked me and thought I was cool, but because she had a really big mouth and usually told me things Emily would never even think of disclosing.

“So you don't like him?” I asked Emily, grateful that Bailey had a big mouth asked, turning to face my daughter .

“No,” she said emphatically , her eyes wide, her brow furrowed . “I do not like him. He's gross.”

“He's not super gross,” Bailey said pointed out . She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “ I mean, T t here are a lot of boys that are way more gross. A nd a t least he's nice.”

Emily ignored her. “Yeah and he's always looking at me ,” Emily whined. “ .” She made a face. “ It's creepy.”

“Better than Stevie Anthony Matheson,” Bailey said, rolling her eyes. “Now that kid is full - on creepy.” She looked at me. “Did you hear he almost died at the beach last summer?”

“ Uh, no.” “No?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he was at the beach with his family and apparently his brothers buried him in the sand and he like passed out or something. They had to fly in a helicopter and everything.”

“Yeah, well, that kid is uber-gross,” Emily said.

“Right. So not as bad as Alex,” Bailey said.

“You're not helping.”

“So mean.”

“Well, I'm sorry girls,” I said, laughing chuckling at their banter exchange . “But I'm not leaving for at least another hour. So you can stay and wait or take the smelly Alex bus or walk.”

“ Alex doesn't smell,” Bailed said. “Well, he sort of does. He wears this cologne that—”

Emily looked at Bailey cut  her off . “You wanna walk? We can stop at the Sonic and get slushies.”

“I'd rather take the bus and watch Alex watch you,” Bailey said . , a sly smile on her face.

“I'll buy,” Em said offered .

Bailed jumped off the desk. “Sold! ” Bailey said, jumping off the desk. Except I want a shake.”

I laughed smiled and shook my head. “Be careful walking.”

“You'll probably have this place to yourself,” Emily said. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. “I swear, our teachers are always gone before the buses even leave.”

“Totally,” Bailey agreed, then giggled. “Except for Mr. Riggler.”

Emily tried not to laugh, but a little giggle fought it ' s way out. “Stop.”

“What's so funny about Mr. Riggler?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Emily said.

“ Tell me.”

“ It's nothing, Mom.”

I thought for half a second, then reached down for my purse and pulled out a five dollar bill. “I'll buy if you tell me why that's funny.”

Bailey snatched the money from my hand. “Sold! ” she sai d again. She stuffed the money into her jeans pocket and turned to face me. “ Okay, so you know how he teaches computers?”

“ Yeah?” I nodded.

“He knows nothing about them . ,” she announced. She raised her eyebrows. “ Like, seriously nothing.”