The Beginning of After

body visible because he’d jammed his head underneath the bed. Bits of fur floated through the air.
    “Masher!” I yelled. Another screech and now a hiss from under the bed. He barked in response, and it wasn’t his usual bark. This one was from the gut, all primal.
    I clapped my hands twice and called his name again, with no results. Then I dropped to the ground and reached under the bed until I felt his collar, and tugged hard. He whined, and I knew I was probably hurting him.
    After dragging Masher out of the room, I shut the door, making sure the doorknob clicked.
    “Bad dog!” I shouted.
    “Forget to close the door all the way?” called Nana from downstairs, like she’d been waiting for that exact thing to happen.
    “I’ve got it under control!” I called back.
    I turned to Masher, who looked at me with irritation. I’d denied him some basic dog right.
    “You can’t just do that!” I yelled, swatting his muzzle lightly with the back of my hand. “This is not your house!” I took another breath and blurted out, “You’re here because your owner is a crazy loser who doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life!”
    Now he seemed bemused, like he knew better and I should too.
    Did David teach you that look, or the other way around?
    I grabbed Masher’s collar again and pulled him into the bathroom, which I knew he hated. The toilet ran nonstop, and he always barked at the sound of it. I closed the door and went to check on the cats.
    None of them were hurt, but Lucky seemed nervous. I lay down on Toby’s bed and she hopped up onto the end of it, looking at me quizzically from above my toes.
    “I know,” I said to her. “I know.”
    Her eyes narrowed into smiling slits, and I realized she hadn’t been nervous for herself or her kittens. She’d been nervous for me, what with all my yelling.
    “Oh, I’m fine,” I said. She stepped onto my leg and walked up the length of my body, not losing her balance for an instant, and poked her head into my armpit.
    I stayed there for a while, petting her, and then it came to me.
    I would write my essay about the cats and Dr. B and Eve and the different ways something could be hurt and healed, and what I’d learned from that. I didn’t have to mention my family outright, but they would be there, between the lines. So I went downstairs and sat at the computer.
    Lucky the cat is blinking at me with trusting yellow eyes.
    The rest of it came out so fast, I had a draft before dinner.
    Almost as if he’d known what had happened with Masher, that night David answered my email.
laurel
thank you for writing. it’s good to know that you don’t hate me, at least not yet.
i’m in richmond, virginia. the band's got a ton of fans here.
this city has a lot of statues of confederate generals, which means i must really be in the south.
keep in touch,
david

    Keep in touch.
    I suddenly realized how annoying that expression was. Like, Now it’s your job to stay in contact with me. It said, I’m really just too lazy.
    I started to write back, to keep in touch , but decided I’d be lazy as well.
    On Thursday morning I woke up early, did a final pass on my essay, and submitted my application to Yale online with more than twelve hours to spare. Hopefully somewhere my father was saying, That’s my girl .
    I gave myself a few minutes to feel relieved and proud, then for the tenth time, reread the text Joe had sent me.
    sry i mizd u at d dance, hope ur ok.
    It had been days and I still hadn’t seen him. I could have done the safe thing and texted him back, but I wanted to talk in real time, live. No backspace key.
    I’d visited Mr. Kaufman. I’d finished my college application. I felt kind of invincible.
    “Laurel!” Joe said when I called, sounding surprised in a good way.
    “Thanks for your message. I’m sorry I missed you that night.”
    “Me too,” he said. Then silence. He got stuck so easily with me now.
    God, Joe! Talk to me! I’m just Laurel!
    “I’ve done a couple of sketches,” I continued. “I’d like to show them to you so I know if I’m on the right track.”
    “I’m sure you are, but yeah, let’s get together.” He paused, but I didn’t jump in. I’d done my part and it was his turn. “After school today? Are you working this afternoon? I don’t have to be at the theater until four thirty, and I usually go to the coffee place to do some homework first.”
    “I usually show up at four, but I can be a little late. I’ll see you