Page 87 - My FlipBook

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

“Check the dark corners.”
He laughed and walked away. And then it was real. Every
minute another step up a bald cliff face. By the end of the
day, she would either fall to her death or triumph at the top.
“Ash.” She grabbed his arm as he started past her. “Let me see
your schedule.”
He pulled it, crumpled, out of a binder and showed her.
“You’re in math this term too,” she said. “If I need you

to, will you drop your class and take it with me? I’ll know
whether I need you to after today.”
Ash frowned. “I was hoping to take art during that block.”
“Please, Ash. I’m asking nicely.” I’m begging.
Her fingers pinched his arm. Ash looked down at them
and then back to her face. “Why do I have to take math
with you?”

Tell him. “Just say yes. Please.” She could do it with him
sitting beside her.
“Okay.” He waited for Greta to drop her hand before step-
ping back. “See you at lunch.” She watched him walk away
still rubbing his arm.
You can do this. Terror plus nausea. Nauseous terror.
It swirled through her, a noxious gas, as she walked to social
studies. Three classes. Just three classes to get through.
At the door of the classroom, she paused and surveyed

it, front to back. A few familiar faces from her other classes
but not Dylan, Rachel or Matt. She chose a desk near the
back, where she could see everyone coming through the door.
The teacher, who looked younger than Greta, rifled through a

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