On Monday, Cal went to school, but he didn’t go to his classes. He followed her, keeping his distance. He watched her pick up her lunch in the cafeteria, slipping some extra fruit into her bag when she thought no one was looking. She slunk around the corners like a spy, looking over her shoulder and making her way to the most remote spot in the school.
He peeked around the corner of a storage shed, watching in amazement as she took out her lunch and was immediately joined by a chattering pair of blue jays. They perched on her book bag, waiting patiently as she lined up some crumbs for them. The birds settled down to preen their feathers, completely relaxed around her.
She settled down too, getting a book out of her beat-up bag and leaning back against the wall. He watched her reading, noticing how she kept tucking stray curls back into her loose braid, trying unsuccessfully to keep her hair under control.
He knew it was crazy, but he wanted her to see him, to talk to him. He wanted to look into her eyes again, and see them looking back into his. He didn’t know what he wanted. She looked up with a start, and his heart sank.
When he stepped out from around the corner he fully expected her to take off like the two birds had just done. Instead, she looked him over, her brows knitting together with concern.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him. “What happened?”
When he looked into her eyes he saw complete understanding; there was no need to keep up the pretense of control. He wanted to cry, and it was shocking, because he hadn’t allowed himself to feel sad for a very, very, long time. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
“My brother’s in jail, and they’re gonna kill Rufus.”
She frowned. “Why would they punish Rufus?”
He came closer to her, leaning against the same wall she did. “He bit a cop.”
“But he’s a dog,” she said, indignant. “He doesn’t know the difference between right and wrong.”
He nodded, unable to take his eyes away from her face. “They have him at the pound. They’re holding him so they can test him for rabies before they do it.”
“How long does he have?” she asked.
“They’re gonna do it tomorrow.” He slid down the wall, still staring at her.
“You have to get him out of there tonight,” she said quietly.
He sighed with resignation. “I tried to break in last night, but when you get near the place the dogs all go nuts barking, and the security guard comes running.”
She looked down, biting her lip. He watched her profile, and he got the impression she was struggling with something. She finally looked back up, her eyes serious.