No response. I think about taking the bus over to her house, but it’s pretty obvious she doesn’t want to see me. I don’t know if she’s still going to go out with Wilson. I don’t know if I should find him at school and apologize. I don’t even know if he knows I’m the one who wrote the note. All this not knowing makes me feel restless. I finish my homework before lunch and decide to take my bike for a cruise. I throw my jeans on under my splattered tank dress and zip up my boots. Once I’m on my bike, I consider pedaling to Nick’s. No. There’s somewhere else I want to go. I start pedaling. I’m off to the gallery, Ballard Art Collective. It’s closed on Sundays, but I want to peek in at Maye’s work. I roll up onto the sidewalk and sit there, looking in. Maye’s dolls are meticulously made. Each one of them has its own personality. They’re bigger than I expected, each about three feet tall. It’s like they’re alive. Some are sad and some are delighted and at least one is in love.
