Free Summer in the Invisible City by Juliana Romano

regained its unfamiliar sound, tasting ashy in my mouth. The best girl in the class was standing next to me. I just wanted her to hear me say it once.
    â€œI’m not sure,” my mom replied calmly.
    We walked out of the classroom into the damp, linoleum-floored hallway. Allan was leaning against the turquoise wall, typing on his phone.
    When he saw us he put his phone away.
    My mom stood behind me, her hands resting on my shoulders.
    â€œGood job, Sadie,” Allan said.
    â€œDid you see my solo?” I asked, suddenly hopeful. Maybe he had watched the performance from the hall.
    Allan shrugged. “I got this phone call I had to take so I left right after the part where you were . . . you know . . . twirling.”
    â€œThat was before my solo,” I said lamely. I stared at the floor. The tips of my pink ballet shoes were scuffed up and graying, and the elastic band that stretched across my foot looked homemade and pathetic. My feet looked nothing like the beauty of a real ballet dancer’s feet.
    â€œHey,” Allan said.
    I looked up at him and he reached out and ruffled my hair a little. “You were great. You were fantastic.”
    And then he bent down so his face was close to mine.
    â€œThe whole show was like your solo because I was only watching you,” he said seriously.
    â€œReally?” I said. Allan’s words parted the clouds that had settled over me, and now the sun burst through.
    â€œCan we get ice cream at Luigi’s?” I was asking both my mom and Allan, but I was looking at Allan.
    Allan straightened up and looked at my mom. “I have to go, actually.”
    â€œBut you like Luigi’s,” I protested. “Remember? You said the coffee ice cream tasted like real coffee.”
    Allan’s eyes met mine for a fraction of a second and then they flicked back up to my mom. “I can’t.”
    â€œThat’s fine, Allan.” My mom sighed.
    â€œBut—” I started to object.
    â€œI’d love to but I can’t. But great job, today. You’re a star,” Allan interrupted. He squeezed my shoulder quickly and then he turned.
    I stood there, frozen in place, and watched Allan disappear down the hall. While he walked, he wrapped his scarf tight around his neck, preparing for the cold outside. I could feel myself sinking into a hole in the linoleum floor.
    â€œCome on, Sadie,” my mom was saying. “Let’s get you changed.”
    But I could barely make out her words. All I could hear was the silence that Allan had left behind.

July

Chapter 15
    The world seems half-empty on the Fourth of July weekend because so many people are away. Most of the rich bankers and the real estate agents are at their country houses, and everyone else is at home with their families or at the beach. It’s funny knowing a place so well that you can feel its pulse change, like your own breathing slowing down in the moments before you fall asleep.
    Willa and I walk around her neighborhood in I-don’t-care clothes and drink Frappuccinos as the summer day fades to dusk. We stroll down a leafy block, past a big brick school with a grid of darkened windows, and then a row of brownstones. I can see inside to living rooms with paintings and bookshelves, warm lamps flicking on as the evening sky grows dark outside. The sounds of someone practicing piano music, playing the same few bars over and over again, emanates from deep within some building.
    This is the best thing: walking around on a warm night and letting the world envelop you. When my mom and I lived near the park, we used to walk around the reservoirevery night when the weather was good. We’d do as many loops as we needed to until we stopped feeling worried or tired.
    Tonight, Willa and I have a destination. We are going to Video World, the old movie rental store that’s somehow still in business. It’s the only video store I know of, and Willa