I didn’t write back. I didn’t change my clothes or put on music or turn on the TV. I just wanted to sleep, even though it was only two-thirty in the afternoon.

Katie

My mum once told me that EVERYONE is hauling a load of putrid slop through life. Some of us have whole steaming backpacks full while others just have a stinky gob in their pocket—but everyone has SOME. So a year and a half ago, when my dad died, I figured: Well, here it is—my load to haul.

I knew its size (three or four suitcases full, at least). And I knew its stench (awful!). So I thought I just plain KNEW my load and that there wouldn’t be any more surprises.

That was my first mistake: Assuming that having such a horrific thing happen to me meant I had ALL the load I was ever going to get. It seemed only fair that since I had a DEAD PARENT to deal with, I’d be spared the other nasty ordeals that kids have to face. I should be excused from atrocities like self-doubt, acne, shortness, insecurity, and flat-chestedness, right?

And shouldn’t I be allowed to miss being falsely accused of tattling on my best friend?

It seems, no. My load just gets bigger and stinkier.

Here’s what happened: I heard Sarah’s name called over the PA system during second hour. Her name and Rob’s and Dan’s—all of whom are in my geography class. I was pretty sure I knew what it was about and I felt terrible. Well, to be honest, first I felt relief for MYSELF (that I hadn’t used the answers), and THEN I felt bad for Sarah.

But I was trapped in my seat. And I had another midterm coming up in third hour, all the way across campus. So I couldn’t go looking for Sarah between classes.

Then, during my algebra midterm, I happened to look out the window and saw Dan and his mum in the parking lot! Dan, as in called-to-the-office-Dan. Dan, as in Dan, Rob, and SARAH!

An orthodontist appointment? Slim chance.

So then I knew that the punishment for “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” was REALLY bad. They were being sent HOME! Poor Sarah!

When the bell rang, I threw my exam on my math teacher’s desk and dashed to the office. Rob was there alone on the bench, looking shell-shocked. I felt sorry for him but I didn’t stop to talk. He and I used to be really good friends, back when it wasn’t so hairy and complicated to be friends with boys. Now, though, I was looking for Sarah.

I searched the halls until I finally caught sight of her and her mum heading out the door. I ran up to them, but Sarah barely slowed and she wouldn’t even look in my direction.