The next day, Clara reminded me not to pick her up after school.
I just nodded and grunted in acknowledgment.
But when dismissal time rolled around, I still ended up standing in the same spot I waited for her every single day.
My cigarette had burned halfway down when Clara walked out. Right beside her was that same kid from yesterday, Felix Foster, what's-his-face.
I could not hear what Felix whispered in her ear, but she lifted her hand and punched his shoulder playfully, then ducked her head.
I was sure both her face and ears were bright red right then.
She had been like that since she was little. Any time she got flustered or nervous, her whole face and ears turned pink in a heartbeat.
Slowly, Felix reached out and laced his fingers through Clara's.
When the cigarette burned al
