You Were What You Eat

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You Were What You Eat Page 32

by Stephanie Prochaska

Jacqueline had long since left for cheerleading practice by the time Anna finally dragged herself out of the hallway. She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there – maybe five minutes, maybe an hour. She just hadn’t wanted to move. All Anna wanted to do was melt into the floor. Only one thing got her up and moving – the realization that she did not want to be sitting in that same place looking helpless and scared when cheerleading practice was over. She could only imagine what would happen if Jacqueline came back and found her still sitting there over an hour later.

  Anna slung her backpack over her shoulder quickly as she hurried towards the front of the school. Her heart beating fast, Anna fought down a growing sense of panic. By the time she got to the big double doors at the front of the school, Anna could only think of the terrible things that were sure to happen when she inevitably met up with Jacqueline again.

  Anna walked at lightening-speed down the street and quickly turned at the first corner she came to. There – at least now she wasn’t in direct line of sight from the school. Feeling much more secure now that she was away from that small, suffocating hallway, Anna took a deep breath and began slowly to relax. She still wasn’t calm by any means, but her heart began to slow, and her hands did eventually stop shaking. Now, she needed to think.

  Anna walked down the street, hoping for inspiration. She didn’t want to go home just yet, but she didn’t know where else she should go. So instead, she walked around the city, her backpack still slung over her shoulder, lost in thought. She walked for what must have been two miles without even paying attention to where she was going. Shifting her backpack to the other shoulder, Anna looked around, trying to figure out where she was.

  She noticed the crowded sidewalks and the streetlights beginning to come on; she’d managed to walk all the way to the middle of downtown! Out of the corner of her eye, a flashing neon sign, still dull against the brightness of the sun, gave Anna her first real idea.

  Anna continued her walk down the street, but now she had a mission; she was searching for a payphone. After fifteen minutes of patrolling the streets, she still hadn’t found one. How could that be? She remembered when there were payphones on nearly every corner. Had it really been that long ago?

  Finally, she found a dilapidated gas station with two graffiti-covered payphones nestled on the side of the building. By now, it was starting to get dark, and the lengthening shadows only added to the gloominess of the area. She walked towards the phone and unfolded a small scrap of paper she’d taken out of the front pocket of her backpack. Carefully, she dialed the number.

 

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