Chapter 8: I'm Fine

Eli went back to class on Monday with a clear head and a folded letter in his pocket.

He carried it into Bell Hall.

The letter said his father would walk out of prison on September 21.

He sat in the third row of Intro Biology with Laurence's bag at his feet.

He heard none of the lecture.

His father's face kept coming up in the dark behind his eyes.

A soft voice.

A tired smile.

Come here, Eli, I'm not mad.

The lecture hall doors banged open.

"Hey!"

The shout filled the room.

It was a man's voice, hoarse and close to the back.

It was only a janitor calling to someone who had left a cart in the aisle.

Eli's body did not know that.

He was on the floor between the seats before the echo had faded.

His arms were over his head and his knees were folded, and his mouth was open on a sound that would not come.

Somebody screamed with laughter.

A phone clicked.

"Oh my God. Is he having a fit?"

"Get it, get it," a boy hissed. "That's gold."

"Move."

Laurence's voice, very low and very close.

A hand struck a phone aside, hard, and it hit the wall.

"Delete it, Brant. Now."

Then Laurence was on his knees in the aisle, and his arms were around Eli's shoulders, and he was lifting him.

"I've got you. Up. Come on. Walk."

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