Beca was sitting in math class, thinking about the note Mrs. Granger had passed into his hand five days ago, the one Beca had opened at home and read through five times just to make sure it was as bad as she thought, the one she was going to forge his father's signature on before he could return to school. Beca was thinking so hard that she failed to notice Duke Meadows poking her in the back with a tightly folded piece of notebook paper. "Here dummy," he whispered. "Thanks," Beca whispered back. She recognized Luke's handwriting right away. Luke was Beca's best friend. Some might say her only friend. That was because of all the important things they shared in common. 1. They both liked pizza. 2. They both hated fractions. 3. They both loved running. 4. They were both afraid of Tom Halvorson, though neither of them liked to admit that. Luke lived with his great-aunt Betty in a frame house in the old section of Mount joy, while Beca lived with her father a few blocks away.
When Mrs. Granger turned to write on the board, Beca opened up the note and started reading. Want to go for a run? Beca looked over to her left to Luke, who sat two seats over, and mouthed, yes. Luke gave her a nod. "Usual place?" he whispered. Beca nodded. At least once a week she and Luke met on the Boulevard near the college to run the two-mile path along the river. So far, it had rained every day this week. Until this afternoon. "Don't let me interrupt your conversation, Beca," Mrs. Granger said, busted. Beca whipped around to face the front of the classroom. Mrs. Granger was staring at her. "Since you don't feel the need to pay attention," she said, "perhaps you'd like an extra challenge." All the kids in the class laughed as the bell rang. "Miss. Beca, please stay for a minute,"
Eighth grade was different from Beca's other years at school. It was all because of her father-and the weird stuff that was happening in her father's brain. Time traveling, Beca called it, because it was as if her father were swept into a time machine and transported to the past. He'd become confused about things and forget his way home. Her father's memory spells never lasted longer than a few minutes. But while they were going on, they were scary.
This past April, they'd been on their way home from the grocery store when her father came to a halt in the middle of an intersection. "It's this way, isn't it?" He asked. "No, dad, left, toward school," Beca said. "Then right at the post office," "Sure," Her father said. "What was I thinking?" Beca hadn't liked the look on her father's face, as if her were lost, or worse, frightened. In the old days, before this past summer, her father and Beca used to spend the weekends at their cabin in Greenbrier Country. On Saturday mornings, they would take the canoe out and dangle fishing lines in deep pools where brown trout darted around sandstone boulders. They would hike up the paths and say spend time near the campfire with other people who had cabins. But this past summer, her father and her never went to the cabin, it wasn't even mentioned.
She came back from reality as she saw Mrs. Granger walk up to her desk. "Will I be seeing your dad tomorrow afternoon?" Mrs. Granger asked as Beca stood up to stare at Mrs. Granger. Beca's heart skipped as she struggled to keep from panic from showing on her face. "He can't make it," she said. Mrs. Granger frowned. "I thought he said he understood we needed to meet," she said. The lie formed in Beca's head before she knew what she was saying. "The doctor says my dad isn't supposed to go out of the house till he finishes his medicine," Beca barely said. Mrs. Granger's eyebrows arched to an impossible height, "Nothing serious I hope," she said. "Maybe the flu or something," Beca said looking down at her feet. "He should be ok, in a day or two. For a moment, they stared at each other. Beca's heart hammered as her wondered if she could possibly believe him. Beca counted seconds ticking past. One thousand one, two thousand two.
Finally, Mrs. Granger raised her hand and drew a line through one of the notes on her calendar, the once that said, Meeting Mr. Mitchell- 4 pm. "All right then," she said. "Guess we'll have to make plans someday else huh?" She said and Beca just nodded. "All right best be off now," Beca sighed when she walked out of the classroom, no lie did well, the next one wouldn't be as lucky.