Private (Private 1)

a chance to blurt a good-bye.

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“It’s okay,” I told him. It wasn’t as if I’d never witnessed a melt-

“We won’t,” I replied.

down before. “Just take a deep breath.”

When he finally strolled off again, both Thomas and I were able He shot me a grateful glance and did as I said, looking away from to breathe.

me. Clearly he was holding back. Whatever the freak-out was about,

“God, I detest them sometimes,” Thomas said.

he hadn’t gotten it out of his system.

“Who? Teachers?” I asked.

“Dammit,” Thomas said under his breath.

“No. Them,” he said, throwing his battered hand up toward the I put my hand on his back, but he flinched away. My face felt hot.

cafeteria. “Freakin’ Noelle and Dash. Who the hell does he think Did he want me to go? Should I go? I didn’t want to leave him alone.

he is?”

Just in case. In the midst of my self-contradiction, I heard someone

“I don’t know. I . . .” What was I supposed to say here? I’d never whistling.

seen anyone other than my own mother snap like Thomas just had.

Perfect. One of the teachers strolled down the path toward us. I And there was never anything I could say to help her. “Are you

cursed under my breath.

okay?” I asked, glancing at his hand. His knuckles were bright red.

“Don’t say anything,” Thomas pleaded, sounding very much like

“Yeah. It’s fine,” he said. His breath seemed to be slowing and a little boy afraid of getting in trouble. My heart went out to him.

he leaned his elbow on the arm of the bench. “I’m sorry,” he said,

“Don’t worry.”

chagrined. “I just get so pissed sometimes.”

The elderly teacher paused and looked down at us. He wore a

I smiled slightly. “I know the feeling.”