Page 9 of The Lookback

“But how did you know?” Maren asks.

“Yeah, what did he say, exactly?” Emery asks.

“There’s no way she remembers after all these years,” Amanda says.

She’s right of course. Memory blurs things, but there are a few memories that I hold dear. A few memories that are still bright and haven’t faded with age. Most of those memories are the ones with Tommy in them.

“Why do you look like that?” Emery asks.

“Like what?” I frown.

“Like you’re looking at something we can’t see?” Emery cranes her head around, staring at the wall.

“I was zoning out,” I say. “Thinking back a little.”

“On what?” Emery’s half-smiling, and then she claps. “Ooh, I know. I bet you’re thinking about a time when you wondered if he liked you.”

My jaw drops. Is she telepathic?

“I knew it.” Emery sits again. “Now tell us.”

“Tell you what?”

“All about that moment, the one where you thought maybe Tommy liked you back.” She’s beaming.

Maren and Amanda are staring at me expectantly, and it makes me remember the very first time I ever reallywondered.

The whole thing started with a news article, actually.

* * *

“Did you see this?” Tommy drops onto the seat next to me in the cafeteria and shoves a newspaper in my face. His dad’s the only person in town who gets the Salt Lake Tribune. Everyone else does just fine having the Vernal Express show up a few times a month in the mail, but Mr. Collins insisted it didn’t have reliable news.

I pick up the paper and scan the page. “The whole Berlin wall thing is really sad, but I don’t know Ida, so?—”

“No, no, not that.” Tommy frowns. “I mean, that is really sad. That woman jumped out of her window to try and get free, but no. I’m talking about this.” He taps the article below it.

The King and I Broadway Revival.

Not this again. “There’s no way the Bishop’s going to approve this for the church’s roadshow. You asked last year, and?—”

He’s shaking his head. “No, not that, you dummy. Mrs. Rasmussen said we could do it for school.” His eyes are practically shining. Of all the impractical careers in the world, Tommy wants to be a movie director one day.

“Are you serious?”The King and Ihas been popular for almost ten years, but a play about a man with ninety wives and concubines who then falls in love with a white lady just isn’t going to hit well in Manila, Utah, of all places. “I think that’s a bad idea.”

“It’s what the rest of the world has been performing for a decade, Mandy. Can you imagine? Manila could finally catch up.”

“I think we should just be happy we weren’t drowned.” I stand up and grab my bag. “But I’m happy you’re happy.”

Tommy hops to his feet. “I still can’t believe they just made everyone from Linwood move—the dam could have been put somewhere else, and the whole town wouldn’t have been flooded out.”

We should be pleased—after all the Linwood people had to evacuate their homes, a lot of them moved to our area. Our tiny school grew by a third. “Anywhere they put the dam would have flooded someplace.” I shrug. “That’s just how life works.”

“I guess,” Tommy says. “But hey, I need you to help me with the play. I promised Mrs. Rasmussen I’d make fliers and help with whatever she needs.”

“That sounds like a problem for you to deal with.” I smirk as I head for math.

“Why are you leaving early?” Tommy frowns, clearly annoyed at having to jog along without having eaten his lunch. “You hate polynomials.”

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