Page 82 - My FlipBook

L IS A J. L A W R E N C E

Now, just a few months later, Greta felt unbearable
panic at the thought of having to see Dylan, Matt or Rachel
every day. In a hallway she could duck away with the crowd,
or in the bathroom, wait it out in a stall. But in class every
day? Walking in front of them. Feeling their eyes on her
back. Noticing how they intentionally ignored her. Partner
work. Group work. No. If finishing high school meant going
through that every single day, she’d leave. It was a small price.

Greta wrapped the blanket tighter, rolled away from the
steady window draft and waited for morning. ADVANCE READING COPY

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