50
CINCIZECI
made it to school.
On my way to class I spotted Liliana down the corridor, walkingI with a group of navy-pinafored girls. The girls were huddled together talking, but suddenly Liliana’s face turned.
Toward me.
Her hair was grasped by the uniform’s white headband, but her bangs obscured her eyes. I couldn’t tell where her gaze landed. Was she looking at
me?
Or at my book bag.
The bag carrying the bomb.
I turned away and headed to class.
I sat through calculus, empathizing with my classmate who had cracked. I imagined it was me, jumping out of my chair and shouting.
I’m an informer! There’s a bomb in my bag!
My grandfather’s dead! He was a dissident and my hero!
My heart is destroyed. I’m in love with Liliana Pavel!
Looking back, I should have said it all. Just let it fly.
But instead, I said nothing.
When class was over, I stood, leaving sweat prints of my hands on my blue trousers.
Comrade Director wasn’t in the hall. Now that Bunu was gone, was the agent finished with me?
I wasn’t finished with him. He was prominently featured in my notebook.
Luca lingered outside of the school building. I dodged him and rushed away.
As I made my way to Dan’s apartment, I thought through my plan. Dan usually left the living room to retrieve his coat. That’s when I would leave the notebook. But I needed an alternate plan. What if his parents were around? My last resort was to use the bathroom and drop the package in the TV room when no one was looking.
My conscience issued unwanted reminders: Writing negative things about Romania was illegal.
Exchanging items with a foreigner was illegal.
Defying the Securitate was illegal.
At that moment, everything about me—
Was illegal.
Was I scared? Absolutely.
But I stepped off the bus.
I took a deep breath.
And walked straight to Dan’s apartment.
Sweating.