“Just one left, right?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Which one? Math?”
    “Yep. What about you? Chemistry?”
    “Ugh, yes.”

O, Heliades, your tears flow once more down your poplar bark ragged,
Cries hushed forever below the brown wood of your transformèd eyes.
Phaethon, your brother, lies cold in the tomb ringèd round by your thicket,

    A month passed. My condition held. I had no symptoms of my illness. I still wasn’t allowed to participate in most gym classes, but if I was still healthy by senior year, Dr.