I jogged the rest of the way down the hall and up the stairs to Mr. Milchuck’s room, passing lockers and a string of posters that seemed to shout at me, squeezing through the door of my new homeroom just before final bell.
The only seat was in the front row. I grabbed it, wishing I could turn around, but too nervous to look for the only person I really wanted to see. Afraid that maybe I’d read him wrong or that he’d gotten back with Val while I’d been gone.
Instead, I kept my eyes locked on the blackboard, MR. MIL-CHUCK written across it in large block letters, just like the first day of philosophy. I felt further than ever from answering Professor McMillan’s question. And I wasn’t even looking for the metaphysical, but something much more straightforward. Am I Cassie Renfield, descendant of the gods, or just a girl at the end of a long line of crazy people?
Announcements started. Hamburgers for lunch, cheerleading tryouts next week, tees and sweats for sale after school. I stood with the rest of the class to recite the Pledge, words tumbling effortlessly from my lips. Liberty. Justice. The posters I’d passed on the stairs—Responsibility, Honesty, Choices. I don’t know why they even put that stuff up. No one pays attention. I never had before.
Socrates said the unexamined life is not worth living. Maybe. But it’s probably a lot more fun.
The bell rang again. Time for class. I stood, slinging my backpack over my shoulder, waiting for the kids ahead of me to file through the door and trying my darnedest to be what I hoped I looked like—a girl, sixteen going on seventeen, with worries no deeper than guys and good grades.
I was so tired of thinking about the mark, what was right, was wrong. My duty, if I had one. I was afraid. Not just of seeing it and having to decide what to do. Or of the awful confrontation. That all sucked, but mostly I was afraid that I would never fit in somewhere like this again. I feared the same thing as Nan. Being alone. Could I ever find someone to tell my secret to who would still treat me like me?
“Cassie?”
He was right behind me, so close that when I turned, my shoulder brushed his arm, my heart tightening.
“Hi.”
Jack smiled gently. “Hi,” he said. We stared at each other for a minute, our classmates and friends plodding past. He was wearing that same sweatshirt, the one he’d worn the day he walked me home from school after Nan died. I remembered how he’d been then—solid, reassuring. And the way he’d looked at me when we met in Wichita, the way he was looking at me now.
Maybe, I thought. Just maybe.
“You have a good summer in Kansas?” Jack asked.
“It was … interesting.” I smiled so he wouldn’t take it as seriously as it sounded.
“We should get to class, but I’d like to catch up,” he said, direct as always. “We never really got a chance to talk this summer. I don’t know if you’re free … or want to … but maybe we could meet up after school?”
“I’m going to Tasha’s today,” I said. “Can we do it tomorrow?”
“Definitely.” We smiled at each other, neither of us sure what to do next. Maybe in no hurry to find out. Things with Lucas had been intense. I wasn’t ready to jump back into that. Jack glanced at his watch. “We should go.” At the door, he paused. “I’m glad you’re back, Cassie.”
“Me too.” In that moment, I was.
Jack ran up the stairs to his class, but I walked to mine, slower than I should have. The halls were empty and I’d be late, but I didn’t care. I wanted these minutes alone, passing the classrooms where I’d sat when I didn’t even know what the mark meant. Before Mr. McKenzie. While Nan was still alive and I’d been so sure of who she was, of who I was.
I didn’t know if being back here would make it harder or easier to figure it all out. The questions had only gotten tougher, more complicated. Maybe that’s the way life always is.
I’ve learned, though. I know what the mark means now and I know I have the power to use it. Beyond that, like Socrates, the only thing I really know is that I know nothing.
But I’m going to find out.