Of Poseidon

would she handle it? She would cry. She would be sad. She would miss me. But she wouldn’t stop living. She would let people comfort her. She would sleep in her own room and smile at the memories as she drifted to sleep. And she would probably punch Galen Forza. Which brings me to what else I decided:
    Galen Forza is a jerk. The details are hazy, but I’m pretty sure he had something to do with my accident Monday. Also, he’s a bit weird. Staring habit aside, he keeps popping up everywhere. Every time he does, I handle it with the grace of a rhino on stilts. So I’m switching my schedule as soon as I get to school. There is no good reason I should humiliate myself for seven periods a day.
    I smile with satisfaction at my plan as I pull up a chair at the table. Mom serves me garbage eggs again today, and this time I eat them. I even ask for seconds. She sets a glass of milk on the table for us to share. I accidentally guzzle it all. I don’t even glance at Dad’s place setting. Or Chloe’s.
    “You must be feeling better, then,” Mom says. “But I wish you’d just stay home one more day. We could have a girls’ day, you and me. Rent some chick flicks, eat chocolate and drink diet soda, exchange some small-town gossip. Whataya say?”
    I laugh, which makes my head throb as if my brain is trying to escape. When she puts it like that, staying home is tempting and not just because of the chocolate. Watching Mom try to act girlie would be entertainment in itself. Our last attempt at a girls’ day started with a pedicure and ended with a monster-truck rally. That was five years ago. And so was her last pedicure.
    Still, I’ve already decided that today starts the rest of my normal life. Dragging a comforter and half gallon of ice cream to the couch feels like a cop-out, and risking another monster-truck rally is about as appealing as growing a third nostril. Picking up my dishes and walking them to the sink, I say, “Actually, I really want to go to school. Change of scenery, you know? How about a rain check?”
    She smiles, but I know it’s not real because it doesn’t crinkle her eyes. “Sure. Some other time.”
    I nod and grab my car keys. Before I flip the light on in the garage, she’s behind me, tugging on my backpack.
    “You want to go to school? Fine. But you’re not driving. Give me the key.”
    “I’m okay, Mom, really. I’ll see you tonight.” I plant a quick kiss on her cheek and turn to the door again.
    “That’s nice. Give it to me.” She holds out her hand.
    I clench the key in my fist. “You practically shoved that car down my throat Monday, and now you’re taking the key. What did I do?”
    “What did you do? Well, for starters, you used your face to stop a cafeteria door from swinging open.” Foot tapping, check. Angry eyebrows, check. I’m-about-to-get-grounded tone, check, check, check. All the signs are there—I’m in trouble and I don’t know why.
    “Uh, I said I feel better. Dr. Morton said I could resume normal activities if I feel better. And I’m about to be late for school.” Dr. Morton said no such thing. Since he was my dad’s best friend though, he waited until Mom left the room to tell me I probably had a concussion. He knows how obsessive she can be. She has an affidavit on file at school not to call an ambulance for me in case of emergency, since Dr. Morton’s office is across the street.
    “School, huh? Are you sure that’s where you’re going?” Her hand is still outstretched, waiting for a key that she isn’t getting. After a few empty seconds, she crosses her arms.
    “Where else would I be going with my backpack and books?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Galen Forza’s house?”
    Yep, didn’t see that one coming. If I did, I might have stopped the blush sprouting on my cheeks. “Um. How do you know Galen?”
    “Mrs. Strickland told me about him. Said you were arguing with him in the hall and that you were upset when you took off running from him. Said he carried you to the office himself when you ran into the door.”
    I knew he had something to do with my accident. And Mom talked to the principal about it. My lips turn so dry I expect to taste dust when I lick them. The blush spreads all over my body, even to my ears. “He carried me?”
    “She said Galen wouldn’t leave your side until Dr. Morton got there. Dr. Morton said he wouldn’t go back to class until he assured him you would be okay.” She taps her foot faster, then