The Pretty One(22)

Simon. Just the mention of him makes my knees unlock. I’ve missed the little bugger. Although he visited me whenever he could, I was in New York a lot over the past year, and even when I wasn’t, a lot of the time I was just feeling too sick to be social, even if being social just meant watching Battlestar Galactica DVDs. The last time I saw him was right before he left for camp in June. I still had my braces on and a huge bandage on my nose from surgery.

Lucy and I walk past Ali Hankey, a wannabe stage designer I’ve known since middle school. She’s sitting smack in the middle of the steps, drawing a skateboard on the cover of her notebook. “Hi,” I say.

“Hi, Lucy and um…hi,” she says, looking directly at me.

“Ali,” Lucy says, as we stop. “You remember Megan? My sister?”

Ali’s mouth drops open.

Her reaction makes my heart beat even faster. Lucy grabs the door for me and motions for me to enter. A group of her friends (obviously alerted by Lucy that we were on our way) are waiting for me and begin clapping as I walk in the door.

As I step inside the clapping quiets down almost immediately as Lucy’s friends take me in, inch by inch. There are stunned gasps and a lot of “Oh my God. Look at you…you look amazing…you look totally different….”

Through the crowd I see Simon (who undoubtedly was alerted of my impending arrival by Lucy as well). He’s standing at the end of the hall over by the production studio, staring directly at me.

“Megan?” he mouths, as if he’s not quite sure.

I’m so happy to see him I break through the crowd and run to him, nearly knocking him over as I throw my arms around his neck. He laughs nervously, and jams his hands in his pockets as he takes a step back.

“I’m here!” I announce, just in case he hadn’t noticed.

“I see,” he says, still staring at me.

“I look weird, don’t I?” I whisper.

“Not weird,” he says. “Just different. Holy crap.”

“Exactly,” I say with a nod and smile. Standing before him, being so close to him, makes me feel one hundred percent better.

“I, ah…” He stops talking.

“I’m totally freaking out. I wish you could just stay with me all day.” I glance at the familiar cowlick flipping over his glasses. The black T-shirt that says “Joey’s Bar.” The purple Bermuda shorts. The red socks and silver sneakers. It all combines to make me so happy that I throw my arms around his neck once again and rub my nose against his sawdust-smelling T-shirt. But he doesn’t return my hug. He stands stiff as a board.

My sister puts her hands on my hips and leans around me. “I better get going,” she says happily. I can tell Lucy is thrilled to have me back in school again. “Call me if you need me.”

“I guess I should get going, too,” I say to Simon, checking my watch.

“Sure,” he says. “Maybe we can get together for lunch—unless of course you have other plans, which I completely understand…”

“Of course I want to have lunch with you,” I say. “Who else would I eat lunch with?” I suddenly remember that Simon has practically a year of solo lunches without me under his belt. Maybe he has a new crowd he sits with. “I’ll see you before lunch anyway, remember? Lucheki’s class?”

Last year Simon and I had almost all of the same classes. Although I have kept up with my academic courses while I was out, I still have to make up the set design classes that I missed last year, which, according to the deal my parents had worked out with the school, was going to entail summer school at NYU, which was totally cool and exciting. In the meantime, though, Simon and I only have one class together, Mr. Lucheki’s Sound and Light Management.

“Yeah,” Simon says grinning from ear to ear. “Right.”

I do a double take, looking at him an extra moment, wondering why he’s so smiley about a class where you learn how to point spotlights. I climb up the marble staircase, smiling at everyone even though there’s a ton of people I don’t recognize. I can’t help but feel I’m in the twilight zone. I hadn’t really had a chance to get to know the freshman crowd before my accident, and with the graduation of the seniors and the arrival of the new freshman class, there’s been a lot of turnover.

From across the hall I see a familiar face: Catherine Bellows, the lumberjack who was so thrilled to help my sister decorate for the fall festival. She’s wearing her trademark oversized overalls with her dirty brown hair pulled back in a plaid bandanna.

“Hey, Catherine,” I call out, giving her a friendly wave. She looks at me, and although she nods, acknowledging me, I can tell she’s confused.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the rodent walking toward me, his eyes shifting nervously back and forth as he clutches his backpack to his chest. “Hey, Herbert!” I say cheerfully. He glances in my direction as he walks smack into an open locker.

“Are you okay?” I ask, helping him up.

“Uh, great,” he says, staring at me.

“It’s good to see you again,” I say. And surprisingly enough, I honestly mean it. Not that I have missed the rodent, but I’m happy to be back, happy to see at least some people I recognize, happy to get back to life as normal.

“Do I know you?”