Free Keep Holding On by Susane Colasanti

can only watch for a few minutes. They make me want to cry after that. If I had a pet, I would be constantly worrying that something horrible was about to happen to him. I wouldn’t be able to just enjoy the time we had together like a normal person. I’d be too worried about my inevitable breakdown after he was gone.
    On our way to the pet store, we pass a group of boys aroundour age. They all look at Sherae. None of them looks at me. Sherae pretends not to notice them looking. She doesn’t even make eye contact with boys anymore.
    I wish they would look at me. But why would they? I’m a walking freak show of oversized tee and destroyed sneakers and frizzy hair.
    “Let’s go to Forever 21,” I say.
    “What about the puppies?”
    “Later.” I want to see if they have any new tees I can afford. Forever 21 is good about prices. I have fifteen dollars left from the stash I allowed myself to take with me today. There has to be a cute top in there for fifteen dollars. One that actually fits for a change. I’m tired of never being noticed.

    “Can you let me out here?” I ask Sherae as she’s driving me home. There’s a random weekday garage sale a few blocks from my place that I must explore.
    Sherae knows the drill. I scavenge at garage sales for things to make my room look nicer. I found a purple scarf to drape over my ripped lampshade. I painted an old vase and put some fake daisies in it that my neighbor was throwing out. An old photo box holds my jewelry.
    There’s a bin of random fabric scraps. I find a pretty piece of turquoise silk. It looks like it will be the perfect size.
    “How much is this?” I ask an old man with an enormous gut sitting at a card table.
    “Two dollars.”
    When I get home, I clear my milk crate masquerading as a night table. I dust everything off. I shake out the turquoise silk and drape it with a flourish over the piece of wood that sits on the crate. It goes really well with the purple scarf on my lamp. Then I carefully arrange everything on top. It almost looks like I have a real night table now.
    Trying to make things look nice takes a lot of effort. But I will never stop trying.

ten
monday, april 25
(39 days left)
    Good thing every day starts with announcements in homeroom. I’d hate to miss out on any pep rallies.
    The first announcement notifies us of the following vital information:
    “The Bulldogs are away tonight at Lakeview. Game starts at six. Let’s all go out and show our support!”
    Apparently, announcements are now in code. Because I have no idea who the Bulldogs are or what they’re playing.
    Then:
    “Yearbook order forms
must
be submitted to the main office by the end of the day. Don’t miss out on the memories!”
    Right. I wouldn’t want to forget any of those.

    Simon comes into physics all adult with his polished style and car keys and coffee cup. The car keys clank down on his desk. He takes the lid off his cup and blows on his coffee. I don’t think Simon sees school the same way we do. It’s more like he’s arrived at work, sipping his expensive coffee drink and looking out the window like it’s just another day at the office.
    Simon glances around the room at the other kids coming in as if he’s about to conduct a business meeting. Then he comes over to me.
    “Hey, Noelle,” he says. “You look like you’re in the mood for some extra work.”
    “How could you tell?”
    “I’m intuitive like that. We just got a new stack of submissions that need to be edited by next Monday. Could you work fifth period every day this week?”
    Is he serious? If I could, I’d keep going to lit mag fifth period every day for the rest of the year.
    “Yeah,” I say.
    “Sweet. So I’ll see you later?”
    I nod. Simon Bruckner has totally saved me from cafeteria hell. Even with all the work I’m doing for lit mag, I still majorly owe him.

    I made out with Matt too long and now I’m late for Spanish. I knew I should have left fifteen minutes earlier, but