Flee by Keely James Page A

said, grinning wickedly at her.
    â€œThe day you get me to run a 10K, Ryan, is the day you know my body has been taken over by aliens,” she had replied.
    â€œWell then, unless we can convince E.T. to join us, I guess it’s just you and me, Blakesy,” Dad had answered, laughing.
    My head filled with memories of us running together, teasing Mom about her yoga classes, getting up early before the sun and heat… I even let myself, for an instant, picture Brody. Then I shoved that memory deep into the hidden recesses of my brain. Don’t push it . I hugged the picture tightly to me again and after a while, drifted to sleep.
    The next morning I awoke before the sunrise. The frame was still in my arms and I was stiff and sore from being in one position for too long. Glancing tentatively at the picture, I was surprised that it brought a happy smile to my face. I guess I had unlocked that memory and processed its effect on me.
    Placing the frame on my bookshelf, I took a deep breath, wondering at the strange unfamiliar feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was small, just a spark, but it was there. It took me a minute to identify it, and when I did, I smiled. Hope . Hope that I could overcome this. Hope that life could maybe one day be good again. Hope that there just might be a happily ever after for me with someone.
    Somewhere a page in the book that was my life silently turned.
    ****
    Dreary, dreary weather. I stood by the classroom window, punching out perforated bulletin board pictures and watching the rain gently sprinkle on the laughing kids outside. The grey sky reflected my mood and cried for me. But not with me. I held my breath and bit my cheek and refused to give in to tears. Today was the first Service Saturday of the year, and I was barely holding it together. My mom, a big believer in to whom much is given, much is required , had pioneered the Service Saturday project my freshman year. This was my first time to participate since her death, and I felt the absence of her presence keenly. My group had been assigned to an elementary school in a disadvantaged part of town, and I was glad the light rain gave me an excuse to seek an indoor task. I didn’t want to have to interact with the rambunctious kids chasing the soccer ball outside, glad for the chance to run and play during their bi-monthly Saturday school day. The energy vibrating off them was almost visible. I hid from it behind the window, listening to Callie make small talk with a teacher.
    Callie’s concerned eyes were watching me carefully. She apparently knew I was standing on the edge emotionally. She had hovered over me like a mother hen all morning. I would be seriously annoyed if I weren’t so grateful.
    â€œHas anyone else from our group arrived?” she asked, coming up beside me, her blue eyes scrutinizing my face. I looked away from her too-penetrating gaze and pressed my forehead against the damp window.
    â€œQuite a few, actually. Most of the guys are joining in the soccer game. The girls seem to be avoiding the rain and mud and going to the craft table.” I watched as a ball flew through the air and was expertly trapped underneath the foot of a ten year old.
    â€œWow, these kids are good. They could probably totally take our high school team.” I tapped on the glass restlessly.
    â€œWhat is it with boys and mud?” Callie asked, laughing as a ten-year-old boy and a West Austin Academy student both attempted a slide tackle into a puddle.
    â€œI enjoy playing in the mud myself sometimes.” My eyes followed the truck that had just pulled into the parking lot, and my heartbeat increased its tempo. Mateo emerged, and just like that, my restlessness dissipated. He slung a bag of balls over his shoulder and headed for the giggling mass of muddy kids, oblivious to the soft rain shower. I smiled and pressed my forehead against the window again to get a better look. Callie glanced outside, then looked