I panted breathlessly as I hurried down the hall, my eyes flashing. Jonathan Snyder had made me late again. He’d done it three times already: “accidentally” emptying my backpack on the ground. Scattered papers take long to retrieve. The bell was ringing. I thought of Jonathan, now sliding into his chair and smirking, and was blinded with rage.
He sat cross-legged on the helm of the tiny boat, smelling of slime and saltwater. His young eyes were brisk and attentive, and yet worn with creases of sleeplessness that penetrated his skin. Beside him sat his father, and behind him, his brother was carelessly dipping his toes into the water.Read More »