Free Blind Spot by Laura Ellen

so egocentric; we think we know everything. Arrogance, no, pride.” He stomped in frustration. “What is that quote?”
    I laughed. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”
    “Yeah, it’s a good one about arrogance being man’s downfall.”
    “You like quotes?” I pulled out my music. “I’ll find you a good one. Lyrics are full of them.”
    He gave a snort. “It’s not the same. My quotes come from world-renowned authors, philosophers, the Bible.”
    “Now who’s being arrogant?” I began scanning my playlists. “Come on, I bet I can find a lyric worth quoting.”
    We started listening to each other’s music in search of wisdom. By the time we boarded the bus, the game had mutated into “Name That Tune” or, as Greg called it, “Try to Stump Roz”—because he rarely could.
    The temperature yo-yoed the whole way home, causing downpours of alternating rain and hail. The road was a mess, keeping traffic at a crawl. It was well after ten o’clock when we arrived at the Birch bus terminal. “Is your mom picking you up?” Greg asked. “I can give you a ride.”
    I flipped open my phone. Still no call. What the hell? The damp cold bit through me. I shivered and hugged my jacket close. Should I call him again or just forget it?
    “That is, if you can brave it,” Greg said. “I’ve heard E.T. wouldn’t.”
    Jonathan was probably too drunk to drive anyway. I grinned at Greg. “I think I can handle it.”
    He opened the passenger door. I scooted in and buckled up. The interior of his car was spotless. Only the outlandish amount of room and the dashboard with its knobs, push buttons, and large gauges gave away its age. Everything else was in perfect condition. No rips or tears in the upholstery. No door handles falling off. It even had a new-car smell.
    “I think it’s going to snow soon—the pond by my house has already started to freeze over,” Greg said, cranking up the heat. “I’m not looking forward to playing football once that happens.”
    “Maybe it will hold off at least until homecoming. Did you nominate people for royalty in homeroom yesterday?” I slid my cell phone out again. Still nothing.
    “Is someone calling you? You keep looking at that thing.”
    I snapped the phone shut. “I thought Jonathan might. There was this party tonight.” I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter.”
    “I can give you a ride to Ethan’s party, if that’s where you want to be.”
    “I don’t. I just want Jonathan to call me back. He was mad that I went to the museum.”
    “Mad? Doesn’t he realize you need the credit?”
    I shrugged. “I canceled our plans. He thought I was blowing him off.”
    “Well, I’m glad you did. I had fun today.” He smiled over at me.
    “Me too.” I smiled back at him—okay, at his ear. He tried to catch my eye, so I looked away. “My house is on the next street.”
    “Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked. “You never make eye contact with me. You look at my ear or my shoulder, but never my face.”
    “No!” He’d caught me off-guard. “To see your eyes, I have to look at your ear.” I gave a nervous laugh. “Weird, I know, but dots block things straight on, so I focus on something else and use my peripheral vision. Missy was always so creeped out by it—I figured she told you.”
    “She only said you have a vision problem. Is it like a sunspot I’d have to blink to see around?”
    I laughed in surprise. “Yeah! That’s exactly what it’s like.” That was the first time someone had ever understood my explanation. It felt—I don’t know—freeing?
    He pulled into my driveway and parked. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”
    “Never is.” I started fishing through my purse for my keys.
    He flipped on the interior light. “How come you haven’t talked to Ratner yet about Dellian?”
    I sighed and looked up from my bag. “I thought it would get better.”
    “Well, it hasn’t. You should talk to him or sit in the back and let me take notes for