“Oh?” she sputtered, gathering her things. She rushed to the door before he could respond.
The scar was hardly noticeable, a touch of concealer and it was gone. Still, when Jenny noticed people looking at her, she was certain it was all they saw.
It was all she saw of herself. Everything she was, had been, would be, reduced to a inch-long scratch on the back of her left hand.
“How could you do it?” Mary Riegert asked her in the hall.
“Do what?” Jenny dug her left hand into her hoodie pocket.
“I asked ‘how are you doing?’” Mary repeated.
“Fine, I guess. Brad said I was looking good. What do you think he meant?”
“Clearasil’s working. Make your move, or at least stop dodging his.”
Jenny stopped walking, let the stream of students wash by. “But what if he finds out about....”
“Your brother? Accidents happen. Jimmy forgave you. Forgive yourself.” Mary headed off to gym.
“But...”
“Move on,” Mr. Thomas, the physics teacher said.
Jenny gasped. “It’s not that easy.”
“Sure it is. Whatever class you’ve got next, get there.”
“That’s not....” she began, but Mr. Thomas had moved on to Steve Kerpin and Lila Wertz making out by the lockers.
Jenny walked on to English, head down. She removed her hand from her pocket, rubbed at the scar.
It would never go away.
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