Thirty

He wasn't in class again today. Usually once a week, his chair is empty. I hear the other kids telling stories about how he does drugs in the bathroom, but I know that's true. How boring would that be. That's not a question.

Whenever he wasn't in class, he was sitting in the shadow where the west staircase bends against the window outside. He'd sit there, and I'd sit there, because he was too terrified to be anywhere else.