At first, I thought she simply hadn’t seen me.
“Sophie?”
She didn’t stop.
Her mouth trembled.
Her eyes were wet.
But she kept walking.
Past me.
Past the bleachers.
Toward the edge of the track.
And that was when I saw him.
THE JANITOR
Mr. Arthur Hale stood there.
The janitor from Westbridge High School.
The same man who had worked there when I was a student.
Except that day, he wasn’t wearing work clothes.
He wore a pressed gray suit.
His hands trembled around a cap he was holding against his chest.
Sophie stopped in front of him.
Then quietly asked:
“Mr. Hale, would you do me the honor of walking with me?”
Arthur nodded.
He couldn’t speak.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
Sophie linked her arm through his.
The whispers started immediately.
