Page 40 of Eye of the Beholder
Mina sighs. “Lydia is being so nice to me, and I feel bad because I’m not doing anything for her.”
“Lydia enjoys being nice, and she likes you. Don’t worry about it.”
Mina looks unconvinced, but she nods. “Well, thanks. I just wanted—yeah. I just wanted to know.”
The bell rings loudly overhead, and the cafeteria erupts into noise.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I say, hoisting my bag up further over my shoulder.
She gives a little wave and walks away.
13
Cohen
People stop talking about Mina within a few days, to my relief, and October rolls in. October is one of my favorite months. The trees are pretty—although I would never admit to my friends that I think so—and the air is crisp. My yard is dusted with the leaves of the tree at the corner of our yard. When I was a kid my dad used to rake all the leaves into a pile and then let us jump in them.
Times change. I push my father’s letters firmly out of my mind and go about my business. I need to shower before Mina gets here. I stink from football practice.
It’s Saturday, and she’s coming over to tutor me again. She says we’re going to start with English. She’s asked me several times what else we’re doing, because I’ve mentioned that I need to see where she needs to most work, but I haven’t told her yet. I don’t know how she feels about corn mazes, and the less time she has to back out, the better.
When I get out of the shower and get dried off, I call her.
“Bring a Halloween costume,” I say, and I already know what her response will be.
“Oh, no,” she says immediately—and predictably. “No. Not happening.”
“If you don’t bring one of your own, you’ll have to wear one of Lydia’s,” I say, toweling my hair dry. “It will probably show more skin than you want it to, and she will almost certainly make you wear heels with it.”
“Nope,” Mina says, and I picture her shaking her head. “I have a line, and this crosses it. I am not going anywhere or doing anything that requires a costume.”
“Mina, what did you make me do last weekend?” I say, trying to sound patient.
Silence.
“All right, I’ll answer. You made me do a practice test. It was horrible. I hated it. But I did it, because you were right—you needed to assess my problem areas. So I trusted you as my tutor, and I did what you asked.”
More silence.
“Do you like Jack?” I say. “Do you want to spend time with him? Do you want to make friends?” I sit on my bed and wait, but there’s just more silence. Then I sigh. “You know, at some point you’re going to have to say something.”
I finally hear her grumbling. “I’ll bring the only costume I own,” she says. “Where are we going?”
“To Decker’s Farm. I’ve never been, but there’s a corn maze. It’s half-off if you wear costumes. You can argue with me about it when you get here.”
She hangs up on me, and I grin. Then I grab my computer and start googling “how to be confident.”
When Mina shows up at my house with a grocery bag in her hand, she looks less than thrilled. She thrusts the plastic bag into my hands as she steps inside.
“I don’t like scary things,” she says.
I give a vague wave of the hand that’s not holding her costume. “I don’t even think it’s scary. What costume did you bring?”
“Like I said, the only costume I own.” She gestures to the bag, and I open it, pulling out a full-length onesie, complete with a hood. It’s black with bones on the front, making it look like a skeleton.
I smile. Somehow it’s so…her. I’m glad she didn’t bring something skimpy; that would have felt weird. She’s not a skimpy kind of person.
“Great,” I say. “Let’s get to the English; we’re leaving about a half-hour before dark.”
