Blindsided (28 page)

There would be no punishment from the school for leaving the campus without permission. Natalie had suffered enough, they said. The only apprehension Natalie had about returning to school was moving back into a room that would be so empty without Bree. Of course, that was not the only empty spot Bree had left behind.

The thing was, if you wanted to survive you had to keep going, Natalie had decided. Even when it hurt. Sometimes, she had discovered, you had to walk around the holes in your life, instead of falling into them.

 

By late April, the sun had melted the last, stubborn patches of ice and snow in western Maryland. The slowly warming land yielded a host of sensory pleasures, including a new symphony of birdsongs and the earthy smell of freshly sprouted plants and soft mud. The sun’s warm rays were welcome in the clear, crisp mountain air.

“I think it’s great that you’re taking time out of your spring break for a tour of the university,” Professor Brodsky said. “It’s good to start looking at colleges your sophomore year in high school when the pressure is off. Before you leave, Natalie, be sure I give you that paperwork for the internship next year, okay?”

He rubbed his hands together. “All right then. I’ve got two college students here, Nathan and Gillian, who will help out this morning. I thought we’d tour Frostburg’s library first, and then visit some classrooms, the dining hall, and finally, the dorms. Do any of you have questions?”

“Not yet,” said Serena. “But I’m staying at Natalie’s farm the rest of this week—we’re going to learn how to make cheese! Yeah. How cool is that? But if we come up with a question, can we e-mail?”

“Of course,” the professor replied.

“Actually, I do have one question,” Natalie said. “Do we still call you professor even though you’re a state senator now?”

He laughed. “Professor is fine.”

Eve raised her hand to ask something, too. “I just wondered if, in the dorms, can three people room together?”

“I’m in a triple now,” Gillian, the tour guide, told them. “If you ask me, we have more space than in a double.”

“Some accommodations can be made,” the professor said, “because we are all hoping this will work out.”

Hope, yes, Natalie thought to herself. There was always hope, wasn’t there? Only now, she realized, she didn’t need a stone in her pocket to have it. She would never stop hoping for her sight to return. Who knew what scientific research might uncover for the blind?

In the meantime, Natalie kept reminding herself, unless you wanted to fold up and die, or go home to live scared, you simply kept going—in a forward direction. Life could still be good. Very good.

Professor Brodsky was waiting, and holding the door open. “Well,” he said, “let’s get started.”