Free Are You Still There by Sarah Lynn Scheerger

there?
    Miguel types, I’m here.
    â€œAnyone in a hurry tonight?” I ask. “Let’s just stay here another twenty minutes and see if this person texts back.”
    Everybody’s game, so we kick back and wait. It takes ten minutes. Then Ping!
    I can’t fall asleep. I can never fall asleep.
    That must be really frustrating.
    You’re still there? I thought you guys got off at nine.
    We do. But if you know that, why do you text after we’re closed?
    I don’t know. Then a few seconds later. Because I can’t fall asleep. I just keep thinking and thinking, and it makes me feel like I’m going crazy.
    Are you stuck on a thought tonight?
    It’s embarrassing.
    No worries. This is anonymous.
    I keep having nightmares about that lockdown. I wake up all sweaty and panicky. Thinking about it makes it hard to fall asleep.
    That sounds awful.
    Seems ridiculous that it’s still bothering me.
    I bet you’d find other people are still reacting from the lockdown too. Have you talked to any of your friends?
    Well, that’s the other thing. I’m losing my best friend.
    Tell me more.
    She’s just moving on. That happens, I know. But it sucks.
    Agreed. Have you talked to her about it?
    No. But what’s she gonna say? She’s too nice to hurt my feelings. I can just tell she’s moving on. Too bad this thing is anonymous. I’d like to link bathroom-lunch-eating girl with losing-my-best-friend girl.
    That must make you sad.
    Yeah. Then a few seconds later, I’ll let you go. Thanks for staying late for me.
    Sure.

12
    The next morning in homeroom, Garth stops at my desk before the bell rings. I stare at his Nikes for ten seconds before I register that he’s there to talk to me. His feet are the size of tennis rackets. “Got a question for you.”
    â€œIt better not be about the physics exam, because I know nothing!” I feel like crap—I’m wearing sweats and a baseball cap to hide my unwashed hair. “I tried to cram last night when I got home, but it was too late and I couldn’t concentrate for anything.”
    â€œPhysics is a nightmare,” Garth agrees. “But that’s not—”
    â€œI’m gonna fail.” I cut him off. “My parents are gonna kill me!” My voice is shrill. I’ve never been this unprepared for a test.
    I must sound panicked, because some scrawny kid I don’t even know says, “I got a cram sheet if you want to see it.” He’s wearing a heavy jacket, so big that it could practically swallow him up.
    â€œFor physics,” he asserts again, shifting his camera strap. Those yearbook kids wear cameras like accessories. “You can use my cram sheet.” He pulls some crumpled papers out of his backpack.
    â€œThank you,” and then I pause. I can’t remember if his name is Simon or Samuel, which is embarrassing because I’ve had science classes with him since sophomore year. I take the papers from him. Looks like a worksheet of some kind.
    â€œNo prob.” He smiles and moves on.
    â€œAnd who says people aren’t nice these days?” I scan the page, realizing how little I know about today’s test and how royally screwed I am.
    â€œGabi—” Garth pauses like he’s uncomfortable. “You think Janae has a boyfriend?”
    â€œWhere did that come from?” I look up from the cram sheet, surprised. “And why do you care?”
    â€œWill you ask her?” Garth’s cheeks turn pink.
    â€œDepends. What do I get in return?” I just might have fun with this.
    â€œHow middle school!” Janae complains, trying to hide a smile with her hand. “He can’t ask me himself?”
    I turn to my locker and twist the knob. “Maybe he’s just shy.”
    â€œShy, my ass. How ’bout coward-ish?”
    â€œThat’s not even a word,” I tell her.
    â€œSo? You know what I mean, so it