Page 80 of Eye of the Beholder
I snort. “I bet.” Then I point at the shirt she gave me. “Thanks for this. I’ll get it back to you soon.”
“That’s fine,” she says, following me after I walk out of her room. “When is your test?”
“Saturday,” I say, a stab of anxiety piercing my insides.
“You’re ready, Cohen,” she says as though she knows how I’m feeling. “I really think you are. You’ve been doing well on the practice English and reading sections.”
“I hope so,” I say. When we reach the front door, I shove my feet into my still-wet shoes.
“Well, my fingers are crossed and prayers are being sent.”
I smile. “Thanks,” I say. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nods and waves as I open the front door, and I step out. It feels colder out here when she’s not here with me.
***
The ACT, as it turns out, is not as bad as I remember it being. I feel fairly confident on the math and science sections, just like I did the first time around, but this time I also feel better about the English and reading sections. It’s a long three hours, especially since about thirty minutes in I realize that this means I won’t be studying with Mina anymore. That causes an uncomfortable sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.
I also can’t help but think about how soon winter break will be here. I’m ready for a break.
When I’m finally done and driving back home, I call Mina.
“Did you finish?” she says as soon as she picks up.
“Yeah,” I say, smiling.
“And?” she says.
My smile grows as I turn into the neighborhood. “I think it went okay. I don’t want to say it went well, because I don’t want to jinx it—”
“You know that’s not a thing, right?”
“But I’m cautiously optimistic,” I say, ignoring her. “Hey, I’m going to run through someplace and grab food in just a minute. Want to come? I can tell you more about the test.”
“Oh,” she says, and she suddenly sounds awkward. “I’m actually waiting for Jack. We’re going to go skating.”
I’m immediately assaulted with unwanted images of Jack holding Mina’s hand as they skate blissfully around an empty rink while romantic music serenades them.
I try to hold back a scowl, and I force my voice to be light as I say, “Oh, that’s fine. Have fun.”
“We will,” she says. Is it my imagination, or does she sound disappointed?
When I get home, my mom immediately descends upon me. “Well?” she says, looking anxious. “How was it?”
I shrug as I pry off my boots. “I think it went okay.” I’m only half paying attention; Mina and Jack are still skating through my imagination, looking happy and in love.
“So working with Mina helped?” my mom says.
“Yeah,” I say. I hang my coat on the coat rack and then walk past my mom into the kitchen.
She follows me, her footsteps soft. “Sweetheart? Is something wrong?” She’s using her gentle voice. I hate that one. It always makes me want to confide in her. But I can’t tell her about Mina. What would I even say? There’s nothing to tell. Mina’s ice skating with Jack, and I’m daydreaming about Jack twisting his ankle. Totally normal.
“Nope,” I say. “Just tired.” I open the refrigerator, even though I’m not hungry. I just need something to do.
“All right,” she says, still sounding concerned. “Well, you got mail. It’s on the counter.”
I swing the fridge door closed and turn to the counter to pick up the envelope there. I don’t need to open it to know what it contains, but I open it anyway. How many of these is he going to send?
