Page 217 - My FlipBook

T R A I L O F C R U M B S

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After supper Greta turned down Nate and Ash’s invitation to go
to West Edmonton Mall with them, her night of phone stalking
having caught up with her. She dozed on the couch, her body
deadweight while her mind meandered. It tested, stepping
gingerly on a stack of images her brain threw at her. Roger.
A million live nerves connected to that one. A pang, some-

thing sore and tender, attached to him. But also strength—
hers and Ash’s. A tiny triumph. Patty. Her brain wouldn’t
even engage—a jag of anger. Then a savage cutting loose. Not
their problem anymore. Elgin, Alice, Nate. Something warm
there. Their school, West Edmonton High. Greta felt the pang,
that tender bruise, and waited for resiliency to offer up some
small triumph. Instead, the sensation fell like a rock down a

well. Falling. Falling. Never landing. Her body woke a little.
Something unfinished there. A taste in her mouth like after a
nosebleed. Had Priya been right about her giving up too easily?
She let herself think of them—Dylan, Rachel, Matt, even
Sam and Angus—picture their faces, remember their words,
their expressions. The way they laughed, both with her and
at her. Her gut twisted tight again, all those shards stirring
and pinching. But also. But also. Sepia along the border of
everything, ebbing over the other colors, subtle. Shame.

Greta recognized it, though her anger drove it into hiding.
Still? What more could she do? She rejected it, called it out,
raged at it. But it always crept back. Not so bold now—more
of an odor, a trace.

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