That Day

That day was about three months ago. Neleigh was dropping me off before she headed to soccer practice (she plays varsity. Before you ask, her father has never been to single one of her games) when she pulled over to side of the road.
    The weekend before, I had taken the ACT. As if that wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened that day, when I was checking my phone following the test, I found a message from my mother waiting. It seemed that Lola hadn’t come home the night before. Her parents were looking for her. When I called her to tell her I had not idea where Lola was, she didn’t believe. No one did.
     It was the truth, though. I didn’t know. But I scoffed at their assumptions — I was the last one Lola would tell. A point proven by what Neleigh was about to tell me.
    “You know she smokes, right? Neleigh asked.
    I nodded, even though I hadn’t known that.
    “And you know about her little......escapade last weekend?”
    I shrugged. “I know it happened.”
    “You want to know what happened?”
    I nodded, even though I didn’t.

The End

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