A Missing Peace by Beth Fred Page B

pissed at the same time because she attacked me over something I knew nothing about and I just got home from the hospital. It wasn’t the bet. I wanted to know what she was so mad about.
    Before I could figure out what I thought about my latest encounter with Mirriam Yohanna, my phone rang. It was on the couch with me, so I could call mom if I needed anything. The screen blinked Sgt. Rodniski. My recruiter. I hadn’t actually signed yet. Mom wanted me to wait closer to the end of the year, so I could still decide to go to college.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œMiller, how are you doin’?”
    â€œI’m good.” As good as a guy who got hit by a car a week ago can be.
    â€œI heard about the accident, and I saw your mom last week. She said you were in the hospital. How bad was it?”
    â€œIt’s been rough.”
    â€œI bet. Are you able to handle a lot of strenuous moving right now?”
    â€œI’ll be okay.” I knew where this was going.
    â€œCaleb, I’m sorry, but you need to bring me something from your doctor when you come to sign the contract.”
    â€œSomething from the doctor?”
    â€œI need a medical release.”
    There it was. “Well, I’ll be okay. I just need a few weeks.”
    â€œWell, we can wait to sign until you get the release, and I’ll get you in a different boot camp.”
    That would be the end of summer. Assuming, I didn’t need physical therapy.
    â€œThanks,” I said flatly.
    â€œHey, you know I want to get you in for your dad. If you were already in, I could get you a desk job, but you have to understand even paper pushers must go through basic. If you’re physically unable to do basic right now, my hands are tied.”
    I threw the phone across the room. I didn’t need to hear anymore of his empty apology. I’d seen enough sports injuries to know I would need physical therapy. The doctor was sugar coating it when he used the word “if.”
    I thought I could somehow validate my father’s death, if I could follow in his footsteps. Maybe, I could even go to the Mid East too, track down the monster who did this. I would volunteer to be stationed in Iraq. No one wanted to go there, so I’d get it.
    Every chance of that died the day the coupe plowed me to the ground.

Chapter 13
    Mirriam
    Another two days passed without me seeing Caleb at all.
    I liked it that way. I made sure he had what he needed to do his half of the project, and I had no desire to see him other than that. Before the accident, I had started to like spending time with him. Even all those stupid arguments gave me an adrenaline rush like I’d never felt before. We were supposed to be friends. He’d said it, not me. But the truth was from the first time I saw him, All-American Boy was gorgeous, and I allowed myself to be blinded enough by that to let my guard down. Lesson learned.
    Then he called. That took me by surprise for a moment, but I remembered leaving my number on his bedside table in the hospital, so he could call if he needed something.
    â€œDid you forget about me?”
    I live across the street. How the hell am I supposed to do that? “What do you want?”
    â€œI need to talk to you.”
    â€œI’m listening.”
    â€œCome across the street.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWell, then we’ll both fail. I need help.”
    â€œ Zmal. I gave you the book. What do you need? Me to read it for you?”
    Caleb laughed, and I could tell he was enjoying this. But this wasn’t like the old arguments that were semi-serious yet fun. This was a Post-Caleb-the-Traitor argument. “Yes, I hit my head. I’m illiterate now.”
    â€œYou didn’t have to hit your head very hard to accomplish that.”
    â€œMirriam, I can’t walk across the street. Come over. Please?” His voice was laced with desperation.
    â€œTell me what you want.”
    â€œI told you, help with