Because You'll Never Meet Me by Leah Thomas Page B

succeeded. Something was slightly different about the shape of his face.
    I was irrationally pleased to see him, Ollie.
    I raised a hand. He caught sight of it. His eyes bulged. Spinning on his heel, he left the way he’d come.
    What did I expect? That moment had been nothing to him. Nosebleeds may not always be enough to create friendship.Doubtless he hardly remembered handing me my goggles. Hardly remembered that he didn’t recoil as though soullessness was infectious.
    Basketballs slammed around me and my breath was loud in my ears, and once again I was seeing more than I wished to, seeing wood grain and the tension in my own face.
    Was that all? Was this it?
    We have talked about standing up. I hadn’t come back not to speak to him.
    I got up and ran the length of the gym. A ball bounced toward me. I thrust it away without pausing. Followed him into the hallway. I saw him pushing his way outside into the courtyard. I sprinted after him, using MBV to dart around obstacles before me. Doors opened; I skidded sideways. A boy put his foot out and I leapt over it. I did not have time to feel foolish.
    â€œOwen!” I shoved the door open and burst out onto the steps. “Um, hallo!”
    I often experience disorientation when I move from indoors to outdoors, because of the sudden shifting of echoes. This time it cost me dearly. I ran directly into someone standing outside the door. This someone shoved me back against the wall.
    It was the piercing girl. Baring her teeth at me.
    (Ollie, this girl is fond of profanity. To spare your retinas repeated scarring by the notorious F-word, I have substituted it with a less vulgar word. You’re very welcome.)
    â€œHey, didn’t you read the fluffing note I gave you this morning, freak show?”
    â€œI can’t read,” I gasped.
    â€œDon’t try the blind card. You forgot your fluffin’ cane. And you caught the paper airplane.”
    â€œEven so. I can’t read.”
    â€œLook, stay the hell away from Owen. He’s been through enough. Or are you going to pretend you didn’t see the bruises?”
    â€œI did not,” I said, which was true. I cannot see blotches or bruises, although I can see swelling. Which explained why his face had appeared misshapen. “What happened?”
    She took four steps back. Aimed a kick at my face.
    She tried to kick me
in the face
.
    It happened very quickly. There was simply no thread in my body that did not tell me to avoid those heavy feet. I had no say. I could not take that boot to the face.
    I ducked.
    â€œPissing Nora!” I cried. “Are you psychopathic?”
    â€œI knew it,” she said, and she looked likely to try it again. “You complete ass. You could have beaten the shit out of him. And you didn’t.”
    â€œBeg pardon?”
    â€œFluff off,” she said. “I don’t want to see you.
You could have stopped him
, but you haven’t. You didn’t! Fluffin’ unbelievable. Coward.”
    â€œI know what I am. Why do you think I’m here?”
    She stomped away. There I stood on the steps for the second time that day. I considered collapsing atop them.
    To think I had looked forward to returning to school.
    I am so unsettled by the piercing girl’s rage. Will she be a second Lenz in my life? My hands are unsteady as I typethis. My father is waiting for me to walk to school again. I do not want to.
    She has been watching me for the past few days. I dodge into closets or around corners whenever I hear her boot steps. She sits atop the stairs and glares me into school. I haven’t approached Owen, but I have seen him in the cafeteria. Sitting alone, silent and half-vanished. Always looking away from me.
    Rumor has it that Lenz will return from his extended suspension at the start of the new term.
    Hoping you and yours are well.
    Best,
    Moritz
    P.S. I needs must tell you that
glock
is not the shorthand version of
glockenspiel
,