The Beginning of After

petted her. Living things died forever. Friendships could be resurrected.
    So I put away my cell phone and figured I’d tell her in the morning, at school. But I still felt really lonely. Maybe I could tell Joe. Yes, that would work. Joe would be happy for me.
    I signed on to my email, and when I saw my in-box, my heart leapt.
    A message from David.
laurel
just for the hell of it i’ve started introducing myself as leon. it seems totally hilarious to me. do i look like a leon? no way. but i say, “hi, i’m leon” and people just nod and say, “nice to meet you, leon!” so i can just be leon for a while. leon needs some background. i was thinking he could be the son of circus people, like world-famous elephant trainers. that’s something you could say and nobody would be able to check up on it, because who ever hears of circus elephant trainers? i mean, the circus is totally cliché but people eat that stuff up. that could get me freebies and favors. and my life right now is all about freebies and favors, as you well know.
david

    Before I’d kissed David, I would have thought that was him, flip and funny trimmed with badass on the edges. But when I read this, I thought about the softness of his lips and the way I could feel his heart beating fast that day in the woods, and I knew he was hurting. Maybe all those years of attitude, from the time he gave me the Tinker Bell bubble bath until the night of the accident, were just one long David hurting.
    No mention of Thanksgiving, but there didn’t have to be. My email had been a peace treaty, and with this, it seemed like he’d signed it.
    Come home , I thought. Just come home.
    I started a reply to him.
Hey David, I mean Leon,
The circus works. Tell them you were being groomed to follow in their footsteps, or hoofsteps in this case, but wanted to be a tightrope walker and that created this whole scandal so that’s why you left and can’t go back.
I got into Yale. I’m not sure if I want to go.
And also, my best friend hates me right now. I have no idea how to fix it.
Maybe someone who grew up around elephants might have some answers?
Laurel

Chapter Thirty-two

    H EROES AMONG US , read the art show flyer in big blue letters.
    Then, underneath:
A COLLECTION OF COLLABORATIVE
PAINTINGS BY JOE LASKY
AND LAUREL MEISNER

    My name on its own line.
    Nana picked up a few extra copies at the library and distributed them to the neighbors. “Ms. Folsom says there’s a mention in the newspaper!” she added as I sat in front of my dinner, trying and failing to eat. “I’ll have to get a copy for my scrapbook.”
    “Uh-huh,” I said, watching my hand shake as I lifted my fork.
    Nana noticed. “Are you nervous?”
    Judging from the buzz I felt under my skin and that “I might have to go to the bathroom” feeling, I would say yes. Definitely nervous. I wasn’t sure how much of that was the art show and how much was the “date” status of my impending evening.
    “I’m just excited,” I said, which was half true.
    “So am I.” She checked her watch. “Well, your Joe should be here in about five minutes.” I winced at the “your Joe” and Nana added, “He’s a nice boy . . . I’m sorry, nice guy !” She looked at the clock again. “I’m picking up Ed and Dorrie at seven, so we won’t be too far behind you.”
    Nana and the Mitas had planned a big night out, to visit the art show and then the diner for coffee and dessert. It was kind of funny and kind of wonderful that she was making her own friends now.
    Other neighbors had pledged to stop by. Aside from our families, Joe and I had no idea who else might come to the “opening.” He’d told only one or two friends at school, and I hadn’t told Meg, and certainly not Andie or Hannah. “It’s kind of cooler if people find out about it on their own,” he’d said that day at school, stopping by my locker to say hi. “Otherwise it seems like you’re bragging.”
    Fine by me. I didn’t want any more attention. At first, I’d thought I was doing the paintings for Joe and college applications and because they needed to be created. When I saw them finished, I realized I’d done it for my mother, too. Because she would have been brimming with pride, and because she wouldn’t have been afraid to tell me what she really thought of my work. The fact that anyone else would see them was just a footnote.
    I forced myself to take one more bite of chicken and set off for a final bathroom visit and