5. The Catalyst and the Class President
Mina
“There you are!”
When I finally stepped out of the front gates of Prospero High after the first of the seventy-eight school days before winter break, Ben was waiting on the sidewalk out front, looking like he’d been there for a while.
I’d been dreading this pretty severely since my fit in gym, and I had the strong urge to turn and run the opposite way, but I had promised to share the walk with him. If I backed out now, it would only lead to lots of questions.
“Here I am,” I agreed. “Did something happen?”
He shouldered the backpack he’d had resting at his feet and fell into step beside me with enough evident agitation that he could have been preparing to tell me about an open Splinter attack on his History classroom. Instead he faltered
