The sun was rising on the other side of the city. Rose reflections glimmered in the windows of the skyscrapers. The moon was overhead. The marching band was practicing in the parking lot.
With a button push, the Subaru’s liftgate opened. I walked to the back of the car to fetch my lunchbox and shoulder pack. With another button push, the liftgate closed, and I began to walk into the building.
There’s a turn-around drive on the east side of the high school. Outside of the auditorium. Near what used to be the main doors, before they added the Chemistry wing. Before security protocols changed and the only non-staff entrance was moved to the west side. I stepped off the sidewalk into the drive just as a student was crossing from the other direction.
She was short and had long straight hair. There was a backpack slung over her shoulders. She was looking down at her phone. Then as we approached each other, she looked up.
“Give me a hug,” she said in a matter of fact voice that I could barely hear. She opened out her arms.
I hiked my shoulder pack onto my left side and reached around her with my right arm. She hugged me lightly. I tapped her shoulder with my half-hugging arm. And I chuckled.
“What was that all about?” I asked her.
“You looked like you needed it,” she said. Then she returned to her phone and walked off in the other direction.