Ky slipped. No one saw, but we heard the scream. It happens. Budget cuts meant wider cracks. Deeper holes. Orange cones and caution tape around campus kept them from slipping, but you know teenagers. Ky wasn’t one. He was smart, an overachiever. We dropped milk, celery, and tater tots. We tied jump ropes, hoping he’d climb back up.
One day, Coach yelled, “I got something!”
We ran out of our classrooms to rescue one student, pulling together, scraping our butts until Luke peeked from the ledge, milk mustache smiling.
“Guys, it’s just Luke.”
Luke’s a slipper.
“You can let go.”
One day, Coach yelled, “I got something!”
We ran out of our classrooms to rescue one student, pulling together, scraping our butts until Luke peeked from the ledge, milk mustache smiling.
“Guys, it’s just Luke.”
Luke’s a slipper.
“You can let go.”
