Free Time After Time by Tamara Ireland Stone

top of her head and using my pencil to hold them in place.
    “Hi.” The voice jolts me from my thoughts, and I look to my left. Megan Jenks is leaning over her desk, writing in her notebook, and looking at me from behind a veil of blond hair.
    “Hi,” I say under my breath.
    She smiles before she turns back to her notes. I return to mine, madly copying the words on the whiteboard into my composition book, as if the exercise alone will give them some kind of meaning. McGibney asks a question but I only half hear it. Not that it matters since I have no idea how to answer.
    Megan’s hand shoots up next to me. “Miss Jenks,” McGibney says, pointing at her.
    “The Neolithic Revolution.”
    “Yes. Good.” McGibney returns to the whiteboard and writes something under the word “agriculture” as Megan looks over and sends another quick smile my way. I give her a nod, turn to my notebook, and write “Neolithic Revolution.” It’s the first day of school, and I’m already wondering if I missed some required reading or something, because I have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about.

    The day moves at a painfully slow pace, and I muddle through Statistics, Spanish, and Physics until it’s finally time for lunch. I make small talk with the people in line. When they ask me how I am, I tell them I’m fine. When they ask me where I’ve been, I give them one of several answers: Traveling around. Seeing the world. And, I’d prefer not to talk about it.
    Everything happened so quickly last spring. When I lost Brooke in 1994, Mom insisted I get as close to her as I could, and it was my idea to stay with my grandmother in 1995 Evanston. It wasn’t 1994 Chicago, but it was close enough. Against my better judgment, I left it to Mom to come up with an excuse to explain why I was missing school here.
    She panicked. At first she told them I was “Away, sorting out a few things.” But when a week turned into two, she had no other choice but to expand upon her story, and suddenly I was “sorting things out” at a treatment center for troubled teens on the east coast. They had no idea when I’d be home. That was up to the doctors.
    At least word didn’t get out to my friends, who seem to believe my version of events: I tapped into some latent rebellious streak and took off to backpack around Europe.
    I grab a sandwich and a huge bottle of water, head into the cafeteria, and immediately spot the guys on the other side of the double glass doors. They’re sitting outside on the deck at the long table that overlooks the quad.
    When I arrive, Adam scoots over and I slide my tray next to his. He has a mouthful of food, but after he finishes chewing and washes it down with his water, he looks at me like I’m the new kid or something. “Hey. I almost forgot you were back here.”
    I glare at him like I’m offended. “Thanks…missed you too.”
    Cameron has been talking nonstop all summer about his new girlfriend, but since I’ve barely seen him outside the park, I haven’t met her yet. Now she’s watching me with a curious expression, but he’s too fixated on his pasta to notice.
    I reach across the table. “Hi,” I say. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Bennett.”
    She brings her hand to her chest and says, “Sophie,” before she extends it in my direction. Cameron looks up and attempts a smile even though his mouth is full of noodles and sauce. He gestures back and forth between the two of us and then sticks his thumb up.
    Another tray slides across the table, and Sam slaps me on the shoulder as he sits down. “Hey. How’s the first day going?”
    He looks different. It’s only been a few days since I saw him last, but his hair is cropped closer to his head than I’ve ever seen it, and it doesn’t look like he has shaved in the last day or two. He looks older or something.
    I shrug and say, “Good, I guess,” as I look around campus. “Just…different.” I’ve always found the glass walls and