If These Wings Could Fly - Kyrie McCauley Page 0,3

things you can’t see? Like her capacity to forgive so much hurt. Do I carry that in my bones, too, like I do the shape of her jaw?

Instead of hanging this photo up, I lay it on the counter beside the roses.

She has to decide whether to put it back on the wall.

The last thing I do before it’s time to usher my sisters outside to the bus stop is reach past Mom to plug the phone in. This stupid, useless house phone. He told Mom and me that we could have cell phones last year. Then he remembered that cell phones call police and cost money, so we never got them. There’s just this one phone, with a cord that does nothing to help us when he tears it out of the wall.

I slam my finger down on the receiver and hold the phone to my ear.

“Dial tone’s back,” I say.

Chapter Three

TO EVERYONE ELSE AT AUBURN HIGH, summer means freedom.

That’s not the case for me.

At least here, I know what to expect. I know who I am. For the next eight hours, I know Campbell and Juniper are safe in their classes. I can pretend everything is normal. So when I step off the bus on our first day back and wave to the girls as it pulls away, I know they are thinking the same thing: thank God summer is over.

Sofia finds me before first period. She tears down the hall and throws her arms around me. “Leighton! You beautiful person, where have you been? We haven’t talked in a week!”

“Sorry, Sof.” I’ve been in a domestic nightmare. “I was . . . way behind on my summer reading. I spent the last few days catching up.” We make our way through the crowded hall together, bumping into so many people that it becomes silly to keep apologizing. It’s a stampede of wide-eyed freshmen, and we are caught in the fray.

“Well, me too. At least we could have suffered together,” she says, her long dark hair bouncing in its perpetual cheerleading ponytail. Sofia is the happiest person I know, and I’m not sure how, but even her features are happy. Her cheeks are low, round, and rosy. Her eyebrows arch dramatically, and she leaves them to grow naturally, adding to the drama. Her smile is a little off-balance—the right side of her mouth curls up higher. It makes her always look like she just stopped laughing a moment ago. And usually she did. After nights like last night, I’m so grateful she’s my friend.

“So what do you have first period?”

Sofia unfolds her schedule and crinkles her nose. She holds the paper away from her body like it’s contaminated. “Physical Education.”

“Wow. That’s unfortunate. You’re gonna have to shower all over again.”

“And have wet hair all day.”

“The scheduling gods did not smile upon you.”

Sofia groans, leaning her head on my shoulder. “What about you?”

I pull out my schedule to double-check.

“AP English.”

“Oh good, you get to read about people killing each other for stupid reasons first thing every day.”

“Still better than gym.”

“Good point. Bummer that none of our classes overlap this semester.”

“Seriously. But we have newspaper. And first dibs on assignments now that we’re seniors. Do you still want sports? They better not give it to Chris just because he’s a guy—”

Sofia stops walking so fast I bump into her. We’ve reached the large windows that face the soccer field.

“What the hell.” Sofia doesn’t swear much, and the “hell” comes out on a sigh, like she didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Crows cover almost every inch of the field.

“Didn’t you notice them earlier?” I ask.

“A few here and there, like usual. Nothing like this.”

We pause at the windows, letting freshmen bump into us in their haste to beat second bell. Across the street is the football stadium, and I can make out small dark shapes filling the bleachers. The crows are in constant motion, taking off and landing, circling overhead. There must be thousands of them. And they’ve all decided to come here.

God knows why any creature would choose Auburn.

Especially one that can fly away.

Chapter Four

IT ISN’T UNTIL AFTER SECOND PERIOD that I have a chance to find my locker. It’s not in the senior hall. I follow numbers down, rounding the corner into the junior hallway.

Warm.

Warmer.

Hot.

Great. I get to spend senior year banished to the juniors’ hall. They must have run out of lockers for seniors. Which means no hanging out at the Senior Wall, which is literally just