Prized (38 page)

“Can I try something with your footage?” Burnham asked.

“Sure.”

He reached for my touch screen and swiveled it closer to himself. He pulled up a still frame of Dubbs. Then he pulled up a color wheel and started sweeping in bits of purple and blue around the shadows of the boxcar and its wheels. He worked so quickly and fluidly, it was almost like he was painting directly on the photo. A few minutes later, after a final click, he stopped and slid his hand away. He hadn't touched Dubbs herself, but by deepening the colors and darkness that framed her face, he'd made her even more luminous than before.

I stared, absorbing the effect, wondering how he'd done it. I touched a finger to Dubbs's cheek, wishing I could have her with me in person. We walked on the train tracks together sometimes. She liked to hold my hand and randomly tug downward for an inside joke.

“You like it?” he asked.

“It's very cool. Can you teach me how to do that?” I asked.

Mr. DeCoster approached behind us. “Rosie, I've had a call from Dr. Ash,” he said, indicating his earphone. “She wants you to stop by the infirmary after lunch.”

I clenched the edge of my chair. They had caught up with me. I swiveled to look at Mr. DeCoster. “What for?”

“She didn't say.”

A student called him from the other side of the room, and I glanced over to see Janice with her hand raised. Mr. DeCoster reminded us to save our work before he headed off.

“Are you sick?” Burnham asked.

“No. I have no idea what that's about,” I lied. I glanced at Janice again and wondered if she would be called to the infirmary, too.

“You look, how shall we say, a bit constipated,” Burnham said.

I let out a laugh. “It isn't that. But thanks for the compliment.”

“No problem.”

The bell rang, and around us, students shuffled up with their backpacks and turned off their computers. I hadn't finished my synching exercise. I wasn't sure if I'd ever be back to complete it.