Chapter 9: Seat 41

Jo's POV

On Monday at lunch Lindy slid her phone across the break-room table and said, "Don't throw it."

It was Bailey's page.

The top post had been up since Saturday night.

It was a photo of a latte beside a printed notice with the Hartley State crest.

Top Ten! it said. Never studied a day in my life!! So grateful for my people.

There were two hundred comments.

"You don't have to read them," Lindy said.

"I know."

I enlarged the photo.

A blue paper band had been taped to the corner of the notice.

It was soft at the edges, and I knew it.

It was the band she'd worn in the car.

Printed along it in small letters were the words DOWNTOWN HALL, OCT SITTING, SEAT 41.

"She told me she'd never beat me," I said.

"That's just manners."

"She said she was only applying for fun."

"People say that when they're afraid to want something."

"Lindy, she's seventh on the October scores."

I put the phone down.

"The only way you're on that list is if you were in a seat."

"And you weren't," Lindy said quietly.

"No."

I looked at the break-room clock, at the microwave, at the cup in my hand.

It was just a list.

It was just a woman I had known for four years, who gave me blankets and brought me coffee.

I didn't want it to be anything else.

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