I found a denim shirt and stuffed it into the gym bag, roughly. I all but tore away the pink shirt and flung it into the bottom of Finny's closet. Something about my reflection prompting me to think of Finny had jarred me into anger.

I heard my mom blowing the car horn outside, so I jogged out of the house at an intense pace. Whether I sped away quickly because of my mom or my conscience, I didn't know.

I handed the gym bag to Adora, without looking at her. "Thank-you," she said, softly.

"Anything happened?" my mom asked, as she sat down.

Peach and Adora both shook their heads. "Not since you left," Adora replied.

Brinker was intently watching a TV that was overhanging a snack machine. It was showing footage of a new terror attack, and some US forces in Iraq. It was also trying to convince me that duct tape could save my life in a chemical air attack. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that.

When it became too late for me to stay, around 3:00 a.m., I think, my mom suggested that we go home for the night. I was more than ready to go. Brinker had already left at 1:00 a.m.

I bid good-night to Adora and Peach, wishing Finny good health.

As soon as we were home, my dad greeted us with exhausted remorse. He sidestepped me and began slowly asking my mother derogative questions. I sidestepped him back and jogged toward my room. I had lost all desire to sleep, for this night and forevermore. The scenario at the skating rink kept playing in my head. Did Finny know? Did he remember that I had pushed him? Did he think it was an accident? Was it an accident? Was he telling of the crime I had committed at this moment? Had he let them all know what I had done? Could he ever forgive me? Would he forever shun me because of my clumsy move? Maybe he would think of it as just that: a clumsy move caused by my inability to skate. Even if he did think that, it wouldn't help my conscience at all. I would have to deal with that event lurking in the back of my mind for the rest of my life.

With all of this playing around in my head, one horrendous, black thought kept repeating itself to me: I had school first thing the next morning.

When I arrived at school, I found that the main topic on everyone's tongue was Finny. They had all heard about it from a friend of a friend of a friend. I heard no one talking about me, and if they were, I heard nothing of it. In my mind's eye, they all knew my secret, they knew the burden I was sharing with no one, except Brinker, who wasn't at all to blame. His burden was not near as heavy as mine. I was the cause of Phineas's pain, and Brinker's guilt. Someone had to have known. Someone just had to have had a theory that involved myself. Finny himself had probably conjectured that it was me.

I couldn't pay attention in any class. Everyone kept talking about it. There was no possible way for me to get it out of my mind.

The day went by painfully quick. It surprised me in that way. I had thought the night before that it would drag on like most school days. Instead, it decided to give me a break and dealt me a kind hand of cards.

I had found that if you'd give fate a little leverage, it would learn to like you a little bit. If you shunned it, or disliked it, it might attempt to cheat you and hand you a hand full of bad cards. It might even make an attempt to kill your fragile mind with bouts of trickery and deception. Fate was at times a cruel and evil goddess, even if you were nice to Her.

Finny never had to worry about Fate. She seemed to like him very well, as if they were old pals or something. Maybe they were. Whatever the reason was, Finny was always a step ahead of Her, throwing Her a wild card when he felt like it. Like the time he totaled his little blue Volkswagen beetle, but came out of it without a scratch. Fate surely must have been surprised at that development.

My mom picked me up from school that day. I saw her waiting for me in her minivan outside the school. I threw my bag into the backseat and hopped in the front beside her.

"Adora called," she mentioned offhandedly, yet with a note of utmost seriousness. I looked at her intensely with a look of interest. "She said that Finny went into surgery, and came out just fine," she went on. "He feels a lot better, by the way Adora talked about him."

My eyes grew large. It was as if a great boulder had been lifted from my shoulders. "Can we go see him, please?" Begging was no longer beneath me. I wanted to see Finny so that I could apologize for what I had done to him.

My mom sighed. "We can," she told me. "But, Adora mentioned something that the doctor said." I leaned somewhat closer. "The doctor was very positive about Finny being able to walk again..." She paused and stifled a cough. "But, he may never play any sports again."

And, then the world splintered and crashed down all around me. I felt hot tears stinging my eyes and cheeks as they rolled off onto my sweatshirt.

My mom must have noticed them. "Now, don't do that. You have to have a positive attitude if you're going to be around him, Gene. The last thing he needs is for you to be crying all over him. Now, stop that."

I blew my nose on my handkerchief and sniffled once or twice. "But, why?" I asked hoarsely.