But I did wonder what she did, on those afternoons-not just Fridays either, because on the days I had speech team, somebody else's mother or father dropped her at her door. It seemed like a lot of time to be alone. When I was by myself-and I loved being in my room on my own, reading on my bed or listening to music and staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars that my father had stuck on the ceiling when I was small-I could hear my mother moving around the house, the creaky boards upstairs or the faint murmur of the radio from the kitchen, and then I could smell dinner: the onions in the pan, or the whiff of meat cooking or the delicious pastry scent of a baking tart. Even when I was alone, I liked to know that I wasn't really entirely alone; but that wasn't how it was for Cassie.
( Claire Messud )
[ The Burning Girl ]
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