Page 97 of Heartbeat

“Are you coming to the party?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He smiled. “What are you going as?”

“I thought of going as a mental patient,” I said casually.

He looked at me as though I were high.

“You know,” I went on. “A few ID bracelets, one of those gowns that are opened in the back, no underwear.”

“Well—”

“Possibly underwear,” I corrected myself.

“Some of the people we know might not really—”

“—get it?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you be one of those people?”

“Fuck no, I think it’s brilliant.”

“Thank you!” I said, gesturing broadly to no one in particular but scaring an old lady walking her dachshund.

Jonas chuckled.

“I could also go as a crazy doctor,” I said. “You know, dress up as my therapist and make awkward remarks to random people at the party.”

He almost spat his coffee. “Do that, please!”

It wasn’t long until we got to the Magnolia entrance. It was the first time I’d been this close to the building and didn’t feel nostalgic. On the contrary, I felt oddly misplaced.

“Shit,” Jonas said. “I got Ms. Donaghy, first period.”

“Does she still wear the same dress every day?”

“Yep. And she still fails half the class, so.”

“Go ahead. I have sociology to get to. Slowly.”

“Later, Hart.” He patted me on the shoulder.

“See ya.” I watched as he went inside the school entrance.

*

I threw my cup in a bin on the front steps, took out my Marlboro Reds, and lit a cigarette. I took a long drag before reaching for my phone and texted, “Hi”

It took me a couple of minutes to get a reply.

Hi

Can we talk?

I have class

I know. Donaghy. Can we still talk?

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