Grace by Richard Paul Evans

“Joel got you some clothes.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œI’ll just put them on the floor. You can wear them until yours are dry. My parents think I’m showering, so I need to stay in here. I promise I won’t look.”
    â€œOkay.”
    A few minutes later she stepped out of the shower. “I’m dressed.” I turned around. She looked better, though it was odd seeing her in my clothes. She looked at herself in the mirror and grinned. “I’ve never worn boy’s underwear before.”
    Joel knocked again on the door. He held some socks. His math textbook was under his arm.
    â€œHi, Joel,” Grace said.
    â€œHi.” He frowned at me. “I already know how to do all this.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” I said. He started to walk away. “Wait.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIs Dad still in the living room?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œOkay. Go.” We waited a few more minutes before I again peeked out the door. I could hear my mother talking. I turned back to Grace. She was wrapping her wet clothes in a towel. “Let’s go.”
    Grace followed me around the corner to our bedroom. I locked the door behind us. “We’ll go out the window.”
    â€œWhat about my shoes?”
    I hadn’t thought about that. “You’ll have to wear my snow boots. They’re in the kitchen. You better hide in the closet while I get them.”
    She went inside, crouching beneath a curtain of hanging clothes. I shut the door and walked out to the kitchen, trying my best to look like I wasn’t hiding a girl in my bedroom closet. Joel looked at me quizzically.
    My mother looked up. “I thought you took a shower.”
    â€œI did.”
    â€œAnd you put the same clothes back on?”
    â€œI mean, I’m about to take a shower.”
    I grabbed my boots and hurried past them. Fortunately my mother’s attention had shifted back to helping Joel. When I got back to my room I locked the door again, then opened the closet. Grace was sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Here.”
    She slipped her feet into the boots.
    I went to the bedroom window and tried to open it. It was stuck and it took both of us to get it open. I climbed out the window first, then helped Grace out. We kept to the perimeter of the yard and out of view of the windows until we were far enough from the house to safely cut across the yard. We were panting from the exertion when we finally got back inside the clubhouse. Grace climbed inside the sleeping bag, then lay back on the mattress.
    â€œHow do you feel?” I asked.
    â€œBetter,” she said. “It felt good to shower.”
    We were both quiet, and then Grace started laughing.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?”
    â€œEverything,” she said. “I’m crawling through windows and wearing boys’ underwear.” She put her hand on my leg. “Are you going to school tomorrow?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œI have some things in my locker. Would you mind getting them?”
    â€œSure. What do you need?”
    â€œJust bring everything. But the most important thing is a red cloth pouch. Whatever you do, don’t lose it.”
    â€œA red cloth pouch,” I repeated.
    â€œYou’ll need my locker combination.” She took a pen and a piece of paper out of her school bag and wrote it down. She also wrote “red cloth pouch” and underlined it three times. “Here you go.”
    I folded the paper and put it in my pocket. “I better get back inside before my mom finds out I’m gone. She thinks I’m taking a shower.” I got down to crawl out.
    â€œEric, thanks for saving me.”
    I looked up at her. She had an expression I’d never seen on a girl’s face, at least not one looking at me. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I liked it.
    â€œYou’re my hero.”
    â€œAny time,” I said.
    As I walked back to the