The next morning Dad had already left when Jamie came downstairs. The kitchen was empty, and so was the spot in front of the back window where Dad always parked.
Jamie poured himself some cereal, added milk and two spoons of sugar, but he couldn't settle down. Dad had gone to work, presumably, but what if he hadn't?
From the downstairs phone, in the nook next to the stairs, Jamie phoned the precinct. It was a different desk sergeant this time, who didn't know Jamie's name.
"Hi, sergeant. My name is Jamie Reagan, can I ask if my dad has come in yet? Captain Reagan?"
"Yeah, sure," the woman said. "You want me to put you through to his desk?"
"No, no, that won't be necessary. I just wanted to make sure… in case I need to come by before school. Thank you."
The lie slipped from his tongue easily. She'd probably believe him, and it wouldn't do to tell her the real reason he'd called. That he had been suddenly and uncontrollably sure that his dad had taken a permanent detour into the Hudson and out of life on his way to work, and that Jamie would never see him again just like he wouldn't ever see Mom again. Relieved that Dad was safe at work, Jamie managed to eat all of the cereal and drink a glass of OJ too.
He got a roasted chicken from the freezer and put it by the sink to thaw, then let himself out by the kitchen door, locking it carefully behind him.
There was a certain relief in arriving at St Xavier's and become just another blue blazer in the early morning rush through the gates. He saw a few kids from his grade in a group near him, but he didn't join or call out to them. He realised, with a grimace, that he had done his own share of being silent the past few weeks.
At his locker, Julie McKenna poked her head around the door and gave him a smile.
"Hey Jamie!"
They'd been paired together on their first day of kindergarten, because the teacher thought Jamie and Julie sounded similar, and had moved through grades together. She was the only one who consistently treated him like she had always done, with a persisting cheerfulness that wasn't bothered much by the silences on his side.
"Ready for the test?"
Jamie's heart skipped a beat, as he remembered yesterday's afternoon of studying, which hadn't been studying at all. Julie must have seen the expression on his face, because she grimaced.
"You're not, are you?"
"Not in the least. But we'll see what happens."
"I'm willing to bet that you'll scrape through anyways, so buck up."
She gave him a grin, and Jamie returned it with a feeble smile. He would probably make it, since it was a revision test and he had been diligent in keeping up with the work until a few weeks ago. But he felt squirrely at the idea of bringing home a C in the state that Dad was in. He didn't need to be disappointed by Jamie right now as well, not while he was struggling so much. But there was nothing Jamie could do about it now. He couldn't even bunk the first few classes to cram in the library, since Science was in first period today.
He slipped into his usual seat near the front of the class, and Julie encouragingly at him as she walked past to her own seat in the back.
Dylan Jones next to him had his textbook out, and so had the new kid on the other side whose name Jamie hadn't learned yet.
Jamie frowned.
It was maybe a short test, taken only at the end of the period. Mr Kendall sometimes did that, and Jamie tried to remember what he'd said in the previous class.
Then Mr Kendall breezed in, his glasses slightly skewed like they usually were, carrying a stack of papers under his arm.
"Well," he said briskly as he stacked them on his desk and started rifling through them. "Morning class. Not badly done on the revision test last week. I expected more from some of you, and less from others, but all round I think you put in a good effort. Come forward to get your tests as I call your name. Abrahams! Atwood!"
Blood was rushing to Jamie's head, and last night's headache clamped around his head like an iron band. They had written the test last week. Sainted Joseph, how could he have forgotten? They had written the science test last week, which he hadn't studied for either, and the test they had today was history.
Jamie stood and fetched his test automatically when he heard his name called, noticing the C circled in red ink at the top. His hands were shaking when he sat down again, and he pressed between his brows, trying to stem the raging headache.
He had no idea what the test this afternoon was even on. Revision? New work? He had no bloody idea. And worst of all, the realisation that he had somehow completely forgotten having written a science test the week before. The cereal and OJ in his stomach moved dangerously, and Jamie put up his hand quickly.
"Reagan?"
"May I be excused, sir?"
Mr Kendall gave him a funny look.
"You look pale, Jamie. Is everything alright? Do you need to go to the nurse's office?"
"I just need some air, thank you, sir," Jamie said, surprised at how relaxed he managed to sound. "I'm feeling a bit nauseous."
"By all means, go then."
Jamie went, taking his books and pencil case with him.
In the boys' bathroom across the hall he opened the cold water tap, first just holding his hands beneath the running water, focusing all his attention on the coldness. Mom had helped him figure out that it helped, back in fourth grade when his anxiety attacks had been almost a daily event. It wasn't helping much today, though. As he bent over the basin, watching the water gurgling down the drain, he felt his nose start to bleed.
The nurse made him call his dad, after an uncomfortable hour of her alternating between clutching at his nose until the bleeding stop and standing over him like a hawk, watching for the bleeding to start again which it inevitably did. It had finally stopped completely at around the 45 minute mark, and Jamie could feel something nasty slipping down his throat which usually meant that his nose had stopped its histrionics. But the nurse wouldn't hear of letting him go back to class.
"You're as pale as a sheet, sweetheart. You're going home for the day."
It sounded horrible, to be honest, but Jamie couldn't very well tell her that he didn't want to go home without raising some uncomfortable questions as to why. And getting sent home for a medical emergency would mean that he'd be excused from writing the test this afternoon. He'd have to write it sometime else, of course, but at least he'd have time to study a bit before then.
He called the precinct for the second time that day from the phone in the principal's office. His dad wasn't in – he'd gone to a crime scene – and Jamie guessed that it was a big one if they had to drag a captain out there. Joe wasn't at his desk either, but Danny was.
"Hey, kid, what's up?"
Jamie glanced at the secretary across the room.
"Not much," he said. "I had a tiny nosebleed at school, and the nurse is insisting on sending me home. I'm completely fine though."
Danny chuckled, slightly disbelieving.
"Yeah? First time I heard about a nurse sending someone home because they're just too healthy to be at school."
"I just told you I had a nosebleed," Jamie said sullenly. "I tried to tell her I get 'em all the time, but she's overreacting."
"Well, what do want me to do about it?"
"Someone has to come pick me up from school if I get sent home like this, but I can just take the bus. Would you call the secretary and get her to sign me out?"
Something crinkled on the other side of the line, and when Danny talked again, it was through a mouthful of food.
"Sure, put her on the line, I'll get you out of there. Provided that you're not lying to me about this whole nosebleed thing. If you're skipping class I will find out and I will kick your ass."
Jamie grinned at the normalcy of the threat. Danny rarely meant it, since he was usually the one pleading on Jamie's behalf with Dad, but he seemed to enjoy sounding tough.
"Thanks, Danny. Hold on a minute, will you?"
Jamie didn't know what Danny said to the secretary, but it took a surprisingly short amount of time for her to start nodding and smiling. Jamie was signed out and free to go before they'd even finished speaking.
Outside in the sunshine in front of the school, Jamie ran a hand through his hair and breathed deeply. Danny probably expected him to take the bus home, but Jamie couldn't really do anything about Danny making assumptions. And he really had no wish to spend a lonely day in the silent house, listening unconsciously for Mom the whole time.
He shrugged his backpack onto his shoulders, straightened his tie, and walked into the city.
