Forty-Five
Memory 24
It was the Monday after my humiliation at Viggo’s house.
I was loitering by his locker. I did this every day. I arrived early so I could be there waiting for him, with a long black coffee and a cheese and alfalfa sandwich on soy and pumpkin seed bread. I made it for him at home before school. It was his favourite breakfast. Viggo ran five kilometres on his treadmill and then crammed in an hour of study before showering and heading to school. He never had time for breakfast.
He didn’t ask me to bring him breakfast. I volunteered.
This was the first morning Viggo had ever been late.
He didn’t apologise or offer any explanation. All he said was, “Excuse me, Connie. I’m in a hurry and you’re in my way.”
“Oh. Sorry.” I moved away from his locker. “Um, do you want you
