Read Afterthought: A Sententia Short Story (The Sententia) for Free Online

all sorts of consequences I’d been unable to grasp earlier in the night. Trespassing after hours. Public indecency. Pregnancy . Getting arrested almost seemed insignificant compared to that last one.
    But all the cop said was, “You kids were just on your way home, right?” I thought he might have been trying not to smirk.
    “Yes, sir,” Carter said, nodding and standing up like getting ready to leave was exactly what he’d been about to do. I envied how calm he was, despite the tension I could see in his shoulders and his smile. I could barely manage to breathe.
    “That’s what I thought,” the policeman said, shining his light briefly on me and then up the parking lot a ways before lowering it. “Miss, I’m going to turn around up there and then follow you out.”
    “Thank you, sir,” I called as he rolled up his window and drove to the end of the lot to wait for me to get dressed.
    I handed Carter his t-shirt and found my bikini top and shorts, slipping them back on in the dark.
    Later , I’d think of it as the almost-night. The night we almost. The night I almost told him. The night I almost would have regretted after the day I’d never forget. But what did almost-regret matter when you were in definite-love?
    We finally left for home that almost-night knowing that, whatever had or might happen, we had each other and we had tomorrow. Because of us, David had tomorrow too.
    With the windows down and the radio off, we spent the rest of the drive connected in the quiet by our fingers, hearts, and with luck, our future.

That was not a usual day.
    The road felt heavy under my feet and I pushed to the six mile mark. It was a beautiful morning, crisp and clear—perfect running weather. I hated to waste it. I forced myself into an extra mile around campus and ran faster, trying to shake off what was holding me back.
    There weren’t many things I couldn’t outrun, but anticipation was one of them.
    I made a long loop, back around the track and the athletic center, before finishing with a sprint down the hill to the gates. My lungs burned as I sucked air in and out, doubled over with hands on my knees. As soon as I stopped moving, the t-shirt clinging to my back began to cool. My watch told me my time was good. Better than it felt. That was the key to running—to keep running when it wasn’t easy.
    Campus was always empty this early in the morning, and I liked that. It was why I’d taught myself to get up before the sun. When else could I be alone out here? The Academy had been my front yard for my entire life. When the students were sleeping, it felt like home. Mine. I knew every pebble of every trail by feel and by heart.
    If I turned around, at the crest of the hill I’d just run down, I would see the Administration house in the gap between the Common Hall and the Arts building. I knew that in the early morning light the siding would look gray instead of light purple. In the second floor office suite, the headmaster would be drinking tea from a hundred year old china cup with a rose pattern and chipped gilt and watching me out the window.
    Dr. Stewart— Constance , I reminded myself. She wasn’t my headmaster anymore and she wasn’t, technically, my superior. Her visit to the store the day before had been so casual, I knew it was anything but. For one thing, she never visited the store. She was also never casual.
    Cartwright, there’s a new student starting tomorrow.
    That sentence was so much more than seven words. It was change. I sensed it. Whoever this student was, he was important. Not just important, but important . Somehow.
    I didn’t much like change. I thought I’d had enough of it.
    But change didn’t care what I thought.
    A set of push-ups barely distracted me either. I hated them, but they were quick and effective. I tried to concentrate on form, on the exact placement of my hands beneath my shoulders, the alignment of my spine and my hips, to count the seconds between down and up. That