Free carefully everywhere descending by L.B. Bedford Page A

God. Please, don’t let Sam be seriously sick….
    â€œHe’s all right,” she says immediately. “The doctor thinks it’s just pneumonia. He probably caught it when he went back to school with his immune system down from his cold. They’re going to x-ray his chest in a little bit. In the meantime, I need you to run to the store to pick up some stuff. Can you do that?”
    â€œOf course,” I say. My parents have an emergency twenty dollars in their bedroom that she directs me to (hidden in a sock drawer, taped to the top). I write down the list of items she tells me, and consider my light coat before leaving without it. The weather is turning warmer and warmer.
    There’s a grocery store that’s within walking distance, but only just. I have a free music app downloaded on my phone, and I listen to it as I hike along the side streets and deserted paths.
    My parents got phones for us all, even Sam, after Jimmy’s car broke down on his way back from our cousin’s in Portano City and he had to hike to a gas station at night to call for help. It’s a bite out of our budget, but my parents insist that it’s worth it. With all the extra things I get—Internet, music, a built-in notepad, chess—I can’t help but agree. Luckily, I haven’t had to use mine for dire circumstances yet.
    When I get to the grocery store, I smooth out the list my mom recited and start looking for the medicine aisle. I find the cough syrups and start comparing brands. Distantly, I’m aware of an uptick in noise as the doors whoosh open and what sounds like a small army clomps in, talking loudly, but I’m too focused on reading labels to look around. After hemming and hawing, I finally opt for the generic store brand and drop it in the basket over my arm. My mom also wanted tea, lemon juice, and honey for a homemade remedy, so I turn for the tea aisle.
    Scarlett West is standing at the end of the row, looking like she just stepped out of a Vogue magazine spread. She’s wearing a perfectly tailored gown, a dazzling studded blue bodice with sheer straps that makes her chest appear rounder and her eyes appear even brighter. The sapphire skirt flares out in expensive-looking sheer ruffles and is underset with a shimmering sheath.
    My breath catches, and I’m dumbfounded at her appearance until it hits me. Duh, prom is tonight. Amber is going with Steven Chaffee. I helped her dress shop.
    â€œHey,” I say. “I think you need to be about nine miles in that direction.” I point east, where the school is.
    She grins. “Fancy seeing you here.” She eyes the cough syrup. “You’re pre-gaming for a big night too, huh?”
    â€œIt’s for my brother,” I say as Carolina appears in a stunning green dress that looks like it cost a fortune. It’s strapless with glittering beads along the front right side that bunch into an intricate design over her right hip.
    â€œWe can’t find the thing,” she says to Scarlett before she spots me. “Oh, hi, Audrey.”
    â€œHi, Carolina. I like your dress,” I say sincerely.
    â€œAw, thank you! That’s so sweet!” She spreads the skirt, looking down at it with proud satisfaction. She inspects me with a quick up-and-down. Apparently nothing I’m wearing is up to returning the compliment, so she says instead, “I’ve always loved your cheekbones. I would kill for a facial structure like you’ve got.”
    â€œOh. Er, thanks,” I say. I’ve never given particular thought to my cheekbones, but it’s nice, if a little weird, to be commended on something I can’t control and had no involvement in creating. “Have fun at prom.”
    â€œThanks! You aren’t going?” she asks.
    â€œOh, not this year,” I say, though I probably won’t go next year either, unless something radical happens.
    â€œAww. You know, you can come