Free 11 Birthdays by Wendy Mass Page B

sighs. “I’m sure you CAN, Leo.”
    The class snickers. Leo corrects himself. “I mean, MAY I go to the bathroom?”
    Ms. Gottlieb glances at the clock. “Can it wait till the end of class?”
    I turn around in time to see Leo shaking his head.
    Another sigh as she fishes the hall pass from her drawer. “You might as well bring your things with you and return this after your next class.”
    As Leo makes his way down the aisle toward me, I slide farther down in my chair. I’m so used to knowing what’s going to happen next, that at first I don’t realize thatsomething has just landed on my desk with a gentle
plop.
I watch the door close behind Leo. Slowly my eyes focus on the folded piece of notebook paper sitting in the middle of my open history book. I tentatively reach for it, afraid to even guess what it says. Ms. Gottlieb is giving out the homework assignment, but since I already know what it is, I bring the note down to my lap and fumble until it’s open. It has been a year since I’ve seen Leo’s handwriting, but it’s as familiar to me as my own.
    AMANDA,
    MEET ME OUTSIDE THE CAF AT LUNCHTIME. OH, AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY! (For the fourth time!)
    LEO
    My arms fly up of their own accord and knock my backpack to the floor with a big crash. I have to cling onto the sides of my desk so I don’t fall off my chair.
    “Is there a problem, Miss Ellerby?” Ms. Gottlieb asks wearily.
    I don’t trust myself to speak, so I shake my head and scramble to pick up my books. I’m still on the floor whenthe bell rings. My classmates file past me. I sit back on my heels, and shove the note deep into my pocket. Just when I was sure I knew the rules to this whole “day-repeating-thing,” it’s like the rules are changing. Leo could only mean one thing when he wrote “for the fourth time.” He knows what’s going on. But how? Was it something I did that, like, woke him up? Or has he known from the beginning? If he did know, he’s been pretty good at hiding it. I guess I’ll have to meet him to find out. But it’s been a year since I’ve spoken to him, and now I’m just supposed to pretend nothing happened?
    The rest of the morning is a blur. I don’t even bother stopping at the office to request that my locker be fixed. As soon as Leo sees me approach the cafeteria, he motions for me to follow him back down the hall. My friends are going to wonder where I am when I don’t show up at lunch, but I have to do this.
    Leo leads me to the end of the hall and pushes open the door to the courtyard that only the gardening class uses. I stop, but he grabs my arm and pulls me outside, letting the door swing closed behind me. Neither of us speak. It feels so strange being here with him. Over the past year I’ve imagined how our first conversation would go amillion times, and it usually started with him on his knees begging for forgiveness. He’s not on his knees now, though.
    He breaks the silence. “So, um, how’s it going?”
    In light of everything that’s happened over the past four days, I can’t even BEGIN to answer that question. I look him straight in the face and do the last thing I ever thought I would if this day came. I burst out laughing.
    “How’s it going?” I repeat. I keep laughing until my sides ache and I have to wrap my arms around myself. His face lights up. He starts laughing, too, and soon we’re kneeling on the cobblestones, clutching our sides and gasping for breath. I collect myself first.
    “I still … hate you,” I say in between gulps of air.
    He nods, trying to get control of himself. “I know. But I think … that we … we …” He starts cracking up again, then forces himself to stop. “I think we have bigger problems right now.”
    “We sure do!” I wipe at my eyes. We both lean back on our heels. “But I’m confused about something. Every time I saw you on the second day, you were doing the same things you had done on the first day. Like everyone else.”
    “So were you,”