I pushed deeper beneath my comforter and yanked it over my head. I was supposed to get up, shower, dress, have breakfast, and face the world like nothing had happened. But I just couldn’t. Not today. Not tomorrow either. Maybe not ever. Minutes ticked by, but Mom didn’t say a word. We waited each other out until finally I groaned, “Go away.” No response. I began to worry that maybe something had happened to Dad and that was why she had not answered me. I flipped the comforter back and sat up to find Mom perched on the chair over by my small desk. Her eyes settled on me and I could tell from the clarity in them that this was not about Dad. Not at this moment anyway. I fell back, dropping the comforter back over my face. “Go away,” I repeated. “I’m not going to school. Tell Celeste to go on without me.” “Tell me yourself.” It was Celeste. I pushed the comforter off my face and sat up on one elbow. Celeste was leaning against my bedroom doorjamb, running the knuckle of her forefinger across her bottom lip as she considered me.
