The bell for the end of school rang. Emmaline sighed with relief as she closed her Algebra book and grabbed the handful of worksheets the teacher had given out during class and stuffed all of it into her already too-full pink backpack. Mrs. Woods continued to drone on about the homework assignment due by Wednesday, but Em had already tuned her out. The assignment was already among all the freaking papers Mrs. Woods had handed out. Why did she have to keep harping on it?

  Emmaline closed her bag and slung the heavy burden onto her shoulder as she hopped up to join the backlog of students already heading for the room’s exit. Em groaned. This was the one problem with getting a seat at the back of the class. She had to wade through all the other students to get out the freaking door!

  “Ms. Layton, a moment please,” Mrs. Woods said as Em attempted to zip around a student who was having trouble getting his algebra book into his own pack.

  Em tried her best to hide her frustration at being called by the teacher as she changed course to meet Mrs. Woods in front of the whiteboard instead of darting toward the exit.

  “Yes, Mrs. Woods,” Emmaline said as she plastered a smile on her face and attempted to adopt a tone that was far more upbeat than she was feeling right then.

  “How is your father?”

  Emmaline’s plastic smile widened even more. God, she was tired of that question. It seemed everyone from the principal to the janitor and kids she’d never even known who attended her high school had been asking that question since her return this morning. It was that or wishing him a speedy recovery. Like she was a personal messaging system for her dad or something.

  She supposed it was just everyone’s way of expressing their concern and support, but really, they could stop any time now. It was getting old and was a constant reminder that she was in school and not with her dad at the hospital.

  “Oh, he’s fine. Well, not fine fine, but we’re hoping to do surgery soon to see if it helps, so…”

  Mrs. Woods nodded. “Well, I hope all goes well, and your mother did email me that once a date was settled on, you would have that day off. I just needed to check in to see if you got the homework assignment that was due last Wednesday completed.”

  “Yeah, right, sorry. I forgot,” Em said as she set her book bag down on the floor, unzipped it, and began to riffle through the pack.

  Thankfully, she found the sheets she was looking for quickly and pulled them out. The algebra problems had been done and sitting in her bag for days while her life had quickly gone down the drain. She remembered cramming them in there the morning the alien ship had shown up. Em closed the pack up and stood, handing the papers to her teacher. There was a slight tremor in her hand; she hoped Mrs. Woods hadn’t noticed.

  The older woman accepted them with a smile. “Thank you,” Mrs. Woods then handed Emmaline a few sheets in return.

  “This is the work you missed last week. I’d like it done by the end of the week if you can, though I know you are catching up on work from your other teachers, so if you need more time, let me know. I can also be available Wednesday after class for a little while if you need my help with anything. Just let me know.”

  Emmaline stifled a sigh as she took the papers. More work. All her other classes had given her some plus homework assignments for the week too. This was definitely the downside of skipping school. It was probably a good thing Mom had insisted that Em come back today, otherwise the mountain of work would have been in the Mount Everest range.

  “Thanks,” she said, not thankful at all for the new work, and stuffed the pages into her bag.

  Emmaline gave the teacher another forced smile and abruptly turned to leave. At least most of the room was empty now, and she could make a dash for the exit with no one standing in her way. Em walked into the hall and let out a long sigh. She was just glad that school was done for the day. Out of all her classes, Emmaline hated math most of all.

  She hadn’t even wanted to come back to school, but Mom had put her foot down on Sunday night, telling Em that life had to go on, that Dad would want her to keep moving forward and not get behind in school. Em had argued to stay by Dad’s side at the hospital just the same. What if Dad woke up suddenly? Then Mom said that if that happened, either she or Eric would come to school and pick Em up right away.

  Emmaline next argued about the surgery. Did Mom really expect Em to concentrate on school the day of the surgery? So Mom agreed Em could take that day off school. It was better than nothing, so Emmaline had grudgingly gone back. And for her trouble, she’d received a butt-load of makeup work and an endless stream of pitying looks that made her stomach twist every time she thought about her father lying in that hospital bed.

  “Em!”

  Emmaline turned around to find Helen fighting her way through the crowd that filled the school hallway. Em pushed her way through the students who were just as eager as she to get out of the building. Emmaline met up with the tall blonde near a bank of sophomore lockers. The two of them then walked with the crowd toward the nearest exit.

  “Girl, you look like death warmed over,” Helen said as she juggled a stack of books. From the looks of it, her friend had made a major run on the school library. “Everyone keeps asking about your dad. It’s like they’re all living in some terrible soap opera.”

  Emmaline snorted as they squeezed through the double doors into the warm afternoon, finally free of the building’s fluorescent prison. “Yeah, well, try actually being the one living in it. Not so cool.”

  Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

  Helen bumped Emmaline’s shoulder with her own. “Wanna hit Sonic? My treat—cherry limeade therapy?”

  Em shook her head. “No, Eric is supposed to be picking me up. Part of the deal for me agreeing to come back to school today was that I would get to go sit with Dad at the hospital for a bit afterwards.”

  Helen adjusted her stack of books, nodding sympathetically. “That makes sense. Any news from the doctor?”

  “Nothing new.” Emmaline scanned the parent pickup zone for Eric’s car. “Just waiting to see if he responds to some medication they’re trying to while making plans for surgery just in case, or at least that’s how things were this morning. I’m sure if there had been a change I would have heard something by now.”

  “That’s good, I guess? That they haven’t called means nothing’s gotten worse.” Helen shifted her books again. “Hey, do you want me to email you my notes from History? Mr. Benson went on another one of his tangents about the Civil War last Thursday.”

  “God, again. He really needs to get a new hobby,” Emmaline rolled her eyes.

  “It’s worse than usual. He brought in this ancient musket that supposedly belonged to his great-great-whatever grandfather.” Helen’s eyes widened dramatically. “Had us all gather around while he explained how the firing mechanism worked. Parker almost knocked it off the display stand.”

  Emmaline scanned the pickup zone again, but didn’t see the BMW or Mom’s Mustang anywhere. “Parker is suck a klutz. He should come with a warning label.”

  Helen giggled. “You should have seen him in chemistry class on Friday. He practically had the place on fire. I had never seen Mr. Shueman so flustered as he tried to get it under control before the fire alarm went off. We had to spend the rest of the class freezing because Shueman opened all the windows to let the smoke out.”

  Emmaline shivered in sympathy and because a cold blast of air had hit at that moment. The shining sun felt nice on her face, but it didn’t help much with the crisp autumn air that cut through her thin jacket. She hugged herself, scanning the line of cars once more. “Where is he?”

  “Maybe he’s just running late?” Helen suggested, shifting her books to one arm so she could check her phone. “Traffic could be bad. There’s that construction on Westover Road.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Emmaline pulled her phone out of her pocket. There were no texts stating that he was running late. So she wrote up a quick text asking where he was and sent it. If he were stopped in traffic, he should be able to answer.

  No reply came immediately. The crowd of students around them thinned as buses departed and parents collected their kids.

  “Want me to wait with you?” Helen asked, grimacing as her tower of books threatened to topple. “I can text my mom to see if you can come over if Eric’s stuck somewhere.”

  Emmaline shook her head. “I’m sure he will be here any minute. I’ll be fine.”

  Helen gave her a searching look. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s fine, Helen. You have that big load. You should get going before you drop it.”

  Her friend nodded slowly. “Okay, but if he’s going to be a bit, you come on over to the house, okay?”

  Emmaline nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

  She watched her friend as Helen started the three-block walk to her apartment. Sometimes Emmaline wished she lived close enough to school to walk, and other times, she was glad to be as far away from here as she could. As the wind blew again, Em crossed her arms to keep herself warm, and the wish to be within walking distance came back full force. Though it would do nothing to get her to the hospital to be with Dad.

  Emmaline briefly considered just calling a rideshare, but knew it wouldn’t do any good without parental approval. God, how much longer was Eric going to be? The line of cars was dwindling fast.

  After another five-minute wait and only only a few students were left standing, Emmaline pulled her phone out again. No texts. No calls. Not a thing. Em dialed Eric and waited for the call to go through. But instead, it went straight to voicemail.

  Emmaline pulled the phone from her ear as her heart started to hammer. Where was he, and why was his phone off? Did something happen? Had he been the one in an accident?

  Suddenly, her frustrated boredom turned into panic as a kaleidoscope of possibilities went through her mind.

  Mom. She should call Mom.

  With trembling fingers, Emmaline tapped her mother’s contact. One ring. Two rings. Three.

  “This is Cassie. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

  The voicemail beep sounded in her ear, causing Emmaline’s freak-out level to climb even higher. Where the hell was everyone?

  “Mom, it’s me,” Emmaline said, her voice tight. “Eric didn’t show to pick me up, and I can’t reach him. His phones off. Call me back, please.”

  She ended the call and stared at her screen, willing it to light up with a return call or even a text from Eric, but there was nothing, and her heart fell even further when she realized there was no one else to call. Not Dad. Not Michael. Fear and despair mixed all together in a tight ball in her chest.

  Crap on a cracker!

  It wasn’t long before she was the only person left standing on the curb. All the other kids had gone. The school grounds had fallen eerily quiet, the afternoon sun slanting through the trees as shadows lengthened across the empty parking lot. Emmaline shivered, partly from the cold, partly from the anxiety gnawing at her insides.

  She tried Eric again. Straight to voicemail.

  A teacher’s aide pushing a cart of supplies paused as she exited the building. “Do you need me to call someone for you, honey?”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine,” Emmaline replied automatically, though she was anything but fine. The woman hesitated, then continued toward the building.

  Emmaline stood there willing Eric to show up, or even her mother. Had they forgotten her? Had something happened to them? Or, God forbid, had the Ethians come back and found the rest of her family?

  Her heart hammered so hard in her chest that she thought it would rip right through her ribcage. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and the world around her started to swim.

  Oh, God.

  Oh. My. God.

  This couldn’t be happening. They had to be all right. Eric was just running late, and Mom… why was Mom not answering too? And the sudden image of Mom being beamed up into the Ethian ship like Michael had been bloomed in her mind.

  No. No. No!

  Suddenly, it was hard for Emmaline to breathe, and she felt like she was going to be sick as all the terrible possibilities tumbled around in her head. Emmaline’s knees wobbled as a wave of dizziness swept over her. She stumbled to a nearby bench and collapsed onto it, forcing herself to take deep breaths.

  “One, two, three,” she whispered, counting her inhales the way Mom had taught Michael when he ever got upset or overwhelmed.

  He was always having panic attacks over the silliest things, and here she was having an attack of her own. God, she wished Michael were here. He’d never leave her at school like this. But then she knew none of her other family would either. Which meant something was wrong, so very, very wrong.

  “Honey, are you alright?” The teacher’s aide said, seeming to come from nowhere. She stood with a hand on Emmaline’s shoulder.

  Em looked up into the woman’s concerned face and couldn’t get a word out. The words and breath simply would not come, but she was thinking them. They’re not coming. They’re never coming. The world around her began to shrink, and then, like a light switch being turned off, everything went dark.