***
Gina Lazlo, a student aid, walked into my computer tech class and handed the teacher a note. Mr. Finnegan looked around the classroom then walked to my row. “Lorraine Cooper, you’re wanted in the main office.”
My stomach hollowed out. Students turned to stare. We were rarely summoned to the office unless we’d done something wrong. I collected my books and hurried out of the class. I ran to catch up with Gina.
“What’s going on, Gina?”
“I don’t know, but Mrs. Underwood is with Principal Elliot.”
Mrs. Underwood was my counselor. I hadn’t done anything that would interest her. One tardy didn’t count, and I wasn’t failing any of my classes.
Inside the office, the secretary looked up and impatiently waved me in. My stomach churned faster. Principal Elliot stood when I entered the office, though Mrs. Underwood stayed seated.
“Lorraine, sit,” the principal said, indicating the seat next to Mrs. Underwood’s.
I sat on the edge of the chair and licked my lips, which had suddenly gone dry.
“How are you doing, Lorraine?” Principal Elliot asked.
“Fine.” My hands clenched the books.
“How are things at home?”
Was this about my father? Was he back? Or had they found his body? I swallowed, heart pounding. “Uh-hmm, okay.”
“We want you to know that we are here for you, Lorraine,” Principal Elliot said. “If you need to talk, my office and Mrs. Underwood’s are always open. We want what’s best for you and all our students.”
I nodded when he paused.
“But if a situation arises that makes it impossible for students to learn, it is our job to find out what’s going on. If it’s something we can take care of, we do it. If they need help coping, we help them cope.”
This was definitely about my father, the one subject I didn’t want to discuss with anyone at school. I bit my lower lip and hoped I wouldn’t start crying. I wasn’t a crier, but every time I thought of my father, the waterworks started.
“Is there something bothering you that you’d like to discuss with me or Mrs. Underwood?” Principal Elliot asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Kate Hunsaker’s accident was not your fault, despite what anyone says,” the counselor said, shifting in her seat so she faced me.
“I know. My mother told me the same thing.”
Mrs. Underwood’s brow furrowed. “Do you talk to your mother a lot?”
I smiled. “Of course. With my father go… Yes, we talk,” I finished quickly.
“There’s still no news about your father?” Principal Elliot asked.
I blinked. “You know?”
“Yes, Lorraine,” the principal said in a voice I’d never heard him use. It was gentle. Fatherly. “Your mother came to see me during registration and explained the situation.”
I’d thought no one in school knew. I wasn’t sure how I felt now. “No, there’s no news.”
“Do you ever talk to him when you’re sad or scared?” Mrs. Underwood asked.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Some people find relief when they talk to their diseased or absent family members, especially when they’re upset,” the counselor explained. “Yesterday, you were seen in the parking lot during the assembly yelling and talking to yourself.”
Oh, crap. The thought that someone might have seen me talking to Torin never crossed my mind.
“Lorraine,” Mrs. Underwood urged gently.
I couldn’t tell them the truth, so that meant doing some damage control. I braced myself for the lie of the century. “I do that sometimes. Talk to my father.” I stared at the principal, my eyes welling. The tears were real. I missed my father, missed talking to him. “He and I are close and often discussed school, my goals, and any problem I might have. He’s always there for me. Even though he’s not here, I feel like he can hear me, so I tend to pour out my heart to him. In my head.”
“I understand.” Mrs. Underwood nodded, pity in her eyes. I really hated to be pitied.
“I didn’t know I was vocalizing my thoughts,” I added, glancing at the principal. He squirmed. It was obvious he was uncomfortable with a student crying in his office. He slid a box of tissues toward me. “Thank you.”
“Lorraine, I want you to try something else,” the counselor said.
I nodded, dabbing at the tears.
“Whenever you feel like talking to him, write your thoughts down. Tell him everything just like you would if he were standing before you.”
I was so happy to leave the office and go back to class. No more talking to Torin and his friends when they were covered in their runes.
Runes (A Runes Novel) Page 19
