Heart of the World by Linda Barnes

wouldn’t let her go back for him. Nothing she said made a difference, nothing penetrated; it was like they didn’t even hear her. Julio, the first gift her father had sent her in her whole life. Julio, the little gold statue who watched over her, who seemed to know when she was sad or happy or when kids were mean to her. He must still be in her locker. He had to be. She couldn’t have dropped him.
    She expected Ana to rush in while she washed her hands in the stained basin, but the door stayed shut, and she let the warm water drizzle onto her hands in blissful solitude. Her skin was good, too, she decided, even better than Ana's. Oh, she wasn’t model-pretty, but who’d want to do something dumb like pose for pictures all day, anyway? If she couldn’t make it as a drummer, couldn’t find the right band, she was going to be a nurse, or a cop, or even join the army and train to be a pilot. Maybe she’d get married first.
    Who knew? Who cared? It was just grownups who always wanted you to have a plan, and plan ahead, and go to college. Carlotta was always harping on that, go to college, go to college, like it was some kind of holy obligation. Maybe it would be a good thing, when she was older, when she had her life sorted out and had done more stuff, but what could you do in a classroom for your whole life? What could you really learn there that you couldn’t learn better by doing, by living? When she got back, she’d know so much more, she’d be a way better student. She wouldn’t be as restless. She’d be able to concentrate better. She’d be different, somebody who’d lived through a real adventure. All the kids would want to know where she’d been and what she’d done; they’d crowd around to listen.
    If she came back .
    That was it. That was the problem. What if she really liked it there and decided not to come back. She needed to have Julio with her. She could almost feel his solid warmth in her palm.
    There was a pay phone outside. She’d noticed the sign when they’d walked in from the van, one of those public phone signs, like the one in Central Square, on the next building over, near an alley. The sign was near a drug store and on the other side of the alley was a small liquor store. It would depend on whether Ana was waiting smack outside the door or whether she’d given up and gone back to the van. If she was in the van, Paolina could make a quick right instead of a left and get to the alley unobserved.
    If she couldn’t have Julio with her, at least she’d know he was safe .
    She searched her pockets and found a quarter, another quarter, and two dimes. She wasn’t sure what the phone would take. She wished she had a cell. Using a pay phone was definitely uncool, but a phone was a phone, really. She thought you put the money in first, but maybe if you were dialing collect, it didn’t matter. Maybe she had to dial an operator to dial collect. She knew what to do with a cell phone. You just called, duh.
    Paolina considered the phone. She’d given her word she wouldn’t tell anyone where she was. And she’d keep her word. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t ask Aurelia to check her locker and find Julio and take care of him. That would be okay. Later, she’d write and tell Aurelia where to send him, and that would be okay, too.
    She half expected to find Ana lurking outside the restroom, but the area was deserted. A smile broke out on Paolina's face, an upside-down rainbow of happiness. They trusted her now. They’d decided to treat her more like a grownup, and that was cool. Maybe Jorge was secretly in love with her. Guys liked younger girls. Jorge wasn’t that old. Ana was probably ten years older than he was.
    She turned speedily to the right, hoping the phone would be in working order. The phones on the streets of Cambridge were usually broken and Marta thought the phone company was