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The Beginning of Never

Page 3

by O. E. Boroni


  How did I get here? I thought, but only when he answered did I realize that I had said it aloud.

  “You fainted in the hallway,” he said, and again I squinted at the sunlight. Seeing my discomfort, he got up and gently closed one side of the tall curtain and finally, I was able to look up. I pushed my hair out of my face.

  “Oh good, you’re awake.” I heard a soft, feminine voice say from behind me, but I didn’t bother turning around. A woman dressed in white scrubs came over with a glass of water in one hand, and a smaller cup in the other. She immediately handed both of them to me.

  “I’m Laura,” she said with a kind smile. “He told me you might have hit your head when you fell. Do you feel pain anywhere?”

  I nodded, and took the cup from her to see two white pills. “The side of my head,” I said, but my voice was a low rasp so I cleared my throat and repeated myself.

  “They’re painkillers dear – Ibuprofen,” she explained.

  I immediately popped them into my mouth, and downed the glass of water to flush it down.

  “Do you have any idea why you fainted?” she asked, and I automatically glanced towards the boy. Seeing him leaning against the wall beside the window with his hands folded across his chest, and his eyes focused intently on me made me feel uneasy. It also didn’t help that the sight of him was competing with the beautiful, stark red maple tree in the yard below, and winning.

  My self-consciousness heightened to a disturbing level as I shifted nervously on the bed, and suddenly had a problem with my hair not falling down to cover my face. I subtly tousled it so that it fell, and to cover my intent, grabbed the glass to take another sip.

  “I’m not sure,” I responded.

  “Have you eaten today?” she asked, and I shook my head.

  “When was the last time you had something to eat?”

  I lifted my eyes to consider the question, and then realized that I couldn’t remember. I told her so and she was quiet for a few moments.

  “When was your last period?” she asked, and my eyes shot up to her, widened and astounded. Instead of understanding what my mortification was about, like any normal woman or nurse for that matter would have, and adjusting her approach to maybe asking the conspicuous boy in the room to briefly excuse us, or better still, take his leave, she continued right on and even repeated the question when she probably assumed that I hadn’t heard her properly.

  My head dropped then, and in a low tone, I answered, “I have it now.”

  “Pardon?” she asked, and my temper flared. But before I could reply in what I doubted was going to be a polite tone, the boy stepped in.

  “She said she has it now,” he said in a flat tone. My head remained down.

  “Well, that explains a lot,” the nurse finally said. “You’re losing blood so it’s very important that you maintain a very –”

  “I get it.” I interrupted and rose to my feet. She looked puzzled, but didn’t pursue the issue any further.

  “Come back instantly if you feel any worse, but right now, I suggest you get something to eat first. I doubt the cafeteria would still have anything appropriate but it’s just a few minutes before the end of the school day, so you should have a meal waiting for you back in the dining hall.”

  “She has a sandwich she can have before then,” the boy offered from behind me, and the corners of her mouth lifted in a pleased smile.

  “Well that’s brilliant. It should hold her for the walk back. Why not go with her to ensure that she gets a decent meal?” she said, and my patience snapped. They were talking about me like I wasn’t even in the room.

  “I can take care of myself,” I said, offended, but she lowered her eyes and muttered loud enough for me to hear, “Apparently not.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Well ensure you have that sandwich now, or we can order something else for you if you want.”

  “That won’t be necessary, I’m fine,” I said coldly, and with one skeptic look from above her glasses, she turned around and took her leave. Pushing my hair out of my face, I took a deep breath before I turned to face the boy.

  I didn’t know what to say to him, and it occurred to me that a ‘thank you’ would have been a good place to start. But at that moment, I didn’t feel up to it.

  The fact that he was still standing there caused an unusual warmth inside my chest that I might have been able to tolerate, but the head and stomach ache I still felt made me feel like I was coming down with a fever. Anyway, he had a flat look on his face that was enough to convince me that he didn’t expect any gratitude, so I just stood and grabbed my tie from the small table by the bed. He, on the other hand, returned to his seat and took the brown bag from the table.

  “How did you know I had fainted?” I found myself asking. He answered as he searched for something within the bag.

  “I met you on my way to get my wallet,” he said, and he produced a black leather wallet from the bag. “I forgot it inside.”

  “Oh,” I said, and remembered catching a glimpse of it just before Mrs. Ibbitson had come up to me.

  He brought out the sandwich pack and placed it on the table.

  “You need to eat,” he told me, when I just stood there staring at him, and that pulled me out of my thoughts. It seemed silly, but up until then I hadn’t noticed that he looked sort of Italian. He was definitely not British. His accent was also very hard to place. I retrieved my blazer from the foot of the bed.

  “I’ll take it with me,” I said, but he refused.

  “Eat it now before you leave.”

  “I’m not going far,” I said, feeling weaker by the second. “I just need to get my things from my locker and head to the library. I have an assignment to work on.”

  Just then, the bell that announced the end of the day sounded, and I started to head off. However, his gentle but firm tug on my arm pulled me back. I landed awkwardly on the bed.

  “Look,” he said, “I had to carry you across an entire block and up two flights of stairs to get here. I’m not looking to do it again, and given our history so far today, it would be highly advisable to put an end to our acquaintance.”

  I blinked. Since I’d met him earlier, that had been the longest sentence he had spoken.

  I blinked again. “Uh, I’m fine,” I said, slightly offended at everything he had just said. I rose to my feet. “And I can assure you, you won’t ever have to lift me up again.”

  “You’re not leaving this room until you eat,” he stated, and my mouth dropped open at the bold threat. Then I became amused.

  “Uh, right,” I said, a malicious smile struggling for dominance across my lips. “Try and stop me.”

  He got up immediately I turned to leave, and in no time had planted himself so close to me that I fell back unceremoniously onto the bed. Furious, I scrambled to get up, but regretted it again because it brought me too close to his body, making me have to crane my head to meet his gaze, which by the way, glowed potently with irritation.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I stuttered, as I placed my hands on his chest to push him away. He brushed my hands away.

  “Hey!” I yelled and tried to do it again, but he pulled my hands down, and pinned them by my sides. I didn’t feel any pain, but the embarrassment at the effortless way he had stilled me was overwhelming. I was about to jerk my hands away from his, and then push him away with all my strength, when he suddenly let me go.

  He took a few steps back, and gave me a hard look before reaching for his wallet.

  “Fine. Do whatever you want,” he said, and walked out of the clinic, leaving me standing and staring after him, completely rattled.

  Strangely, I grew dizzy after that and had to sit down to stabilize myself. The light-headedness worsened still, until I was forced to just lie back in defeat and eat the sandwich, feeling more foolish with every bite.

  Eventually I was done, and stabilized enough to walk without the frustrating feeling of wanting to smash
my head against something. After checking in with Laura, I retrieved my bag and headed towards the library.

  *

  When I reached it, I sighed at how much the familiar space relaxed me. I walked past the huge mahogany desk at the reception, straight into the maze of bookcases and headed to my favourite table. It was situated in a dimly lit and almost deserted corner on the last floor, and it was a place I could stay in for hours to be alone, without any fear of unwanted interruptions. People rarely visited this section. For one, the lighting wasn't encouraging and the bookcases were filled with old encyclopedias and ancient history books. Google was now much easier than sorting through massive dust-garnished materials.

  It was just a little past 2:30pm, so almost everyone would be heading back to the dining hall for lunch. I hardly ever had lunch because I preferred to wear myself out in the library reading, and then return to my dorm for a nap before dinner in the evening.

  When I reached the table, I decided to rest for a while because my legs still felt pretty heavy. I was taking my movements slow for the fear of inciting another fainting spell. I was still a little shaken that I had actually collapsed in the first place, and shuddered to think of how long I’d have probably been lying down on the ground, if he hadn't found me.

  He, I mused. It was funny how we'd had more than two tense encounters in the same day and yet, I still didn't know his name. I thought of what it might be, but eventually gave up because it wasn’t worth tasking my weary brain over. But for what it was worth, I didn’t expect it to be a ‘John’ or a ‘Michael’.

  After sitting down, I rested my head on the table. The plan had been to briefly close my eyes, but I found myself waking almost half an hour later. I really was exhausted I realized, so I decided to start on the assignment before I lazed out and procrastinated it again

  I had just brought out my notepad and was about to skim it for details, when I saw the sticky note at the top corner that read, Ask Kate for your topic.

  Just then, I remembered the conversation I’d had with Kate earlier, and how I’d scribbled the note just before I’d been kicked out of biology. The thought of having to push it again to the next day made my head spin, so I lowered my head back to the table, and thought again of all the reasons I had for not dropping out. The strongest one was still that I’d rather be here, than have to live with my dad. I didn’t hate him; I just preferred to not be around him because having him around made everything harder for me.

  I pulled my backpack towards me from across the table so that I could retrieve my purse. I knew exactly where what I was in search of was, and boldly ignored the voice of reason that told me that it would be a bad idea. I'd just had too much already happen today, and I missed her, so I at least deserved a look.

  After I retrieved the picture from my purse, I laid it flat on the table and straightened so that I could stare down at her beautiful face. Without the picture, I already had it perfectly engraved in my mind, but this – this was priceless. Her hazel eyes stared back at me, and with a sad smile I remembered how they could literally flash with fire when she was mad.

  She had yelled a lot and so did I, and more than anything it just showed our inability to keep a leash on our emotions. We cried when we were hurt and caused havoc when we were angry, and although the transparency was sometimes liberating, I wasn’t entirely certain that I didn’t consider it a serious flaw. So far, it had been fairly easy for me to keep it all in, but after all that had happened today, I only wished that I was able to get through the day without causing any more damage to myself, or anyone else.

  My wild hair was the stark difference between us because it was so different from her slick, shoulder-length one. She’d tried for years to grow it past mid-length but when it seemed like it never would, she’d just cut it into a bob and maintained the style. I brushed my thumb along the side of her face. I missed her so much.

  She’d been in tears when she’d zoomed out of the house three years ago, and I’d been beside her in the front seat. It had all started with an argument in their room, and although I couldn’t decipher what it was about, I hadn’t bothered to try because for as long as I could remember, it had been the norm. Also, I’d figured since the fight had been dragging on for a couple of days, that that day would be the day it finally ended.

  I couldn’t have been more correct.

  She emerged from the room just as I came out of mine, more furious than I’d ever seen her and jogged hurriedly down the stairs.

  “Mom!” I called and ran after her, but she was already in the car by the time I reached her. So I went around, and got into the front seat before she could stop me. Even though she tried to get me out, I refused, until finally, she set the gears in motion and zoomed out of the driveway.

  “I’m going to Aunt Leslie’s,” she said and I lightly touched her hand, hoping it would provide some sort of comfort for her. She looked at me, saw something in my face, and started crying again. She’d never allowed me to see her cry, but sometimes I had heard her. Heavy drops streamed down uncontrollably, and soon they moved to racking sobs but through it, she managed to keep driving. Only when we were more than fifteen minutes into the drive had she finally stopped. I chose not to interrupt, understanding her need to express some of the pain, and then I asked her the question that had been lodged in my heart for as long as I could remember.

  “Did you ever suspect it’d be like this? Before you married dad I mean.” I asked, and that was the last time I looked into her eyes.

  She’d turned to me, surprised … and then I’d heard the deafening blare.

  I never did get the answer to that question, and I suspected that it would always nurse a particularly outstanding sore in my heart. Someday, I’d need an answer to it, but never get to hear the one that I would have wanted to hear the most.

  “The truck came out of nowhere,” I’d been told. “And at the speed she’d been going, it was impossible to slow down.”

  One statement, and it had changed my life forever. Somehow I’d survived, but I was tired of wishing that I hadn't. A tear fell from the corner of my eye, and created a blot for itself like all the others that already dotted the picture. I brushed it away, and then did the same for the rest that had pooled in my eyes. Replacing my things back into my bag, I stood to my feet and left the library. I decided to leave the picture in my locker for the weekend, because if I took it with me, it was just going to make everything worse.

  “Don’t you dare cry,” I warned myself as I headed towards the overhead walkway that connected my block to the library, but it didn’t stop the tears from coming. My throat had tightened from the pain and as each moment passed, it became more and more difficult to breathe.

  The walkway was lined with impressive cast stone columns that showed the exquisite outlay of the school through their opened arcs; its colourful landscape and medieval structures. Usually, it was all able to draw appreciation from me but not today, because with every step that I took, the more I wanted to drop to the floor and just lie there, exhausted from the dejection.

  Soon I got into my block, and continued to head down the hallway which led to the stairs that would take me down towards my locker. I held the photograph to my chest and decided that I was allowed to cry, until I got to my locker. But when I neared the staircase and heard the laughter from a couple of boys that hung around it, I was forced to quickly wipe the tears off my face with the sleeves of my dress shirt.

  There were about four of them, and they turned to watch me as I approached. Even though it didn’t particularly bother me, the last thing I’d expected from them was any trouble. But when I reached the stairs and asked the two boys that were standing in front of it to excuse me so that I could pass through, they refused.

  “Why are you crying?” one of the boys that stood in front of me asked. His hair was a reddish brown and his entire face was covered in freckles. The one beside him had a long bony nose, and a disheveled mass of jet black hair.

 
“Excuse me,” I repeated again, not in the mood for whatever prank they wanted to pull.

  “Come on, talk to us,” one of the other boys that were behind me said, but I didn’t turn around. Suddenly, I felt his fingers slip into my hand by my side, and swiftly pull away the picture of my mother. Instantly, I whirled around.

  “Give it back!” I yelled, and went after him, but he was walking backwards and away from me.

  “Oh, so is this what you were hiding?” he said with a mocking smile. The sight of the picture in his hands as he held it away from himself and stared at it, made my skin crawl. I wanted to kill him. I quickened my steps as I tried to catch up, but when I almost reached him, he made a sharp ‘U’ turn and continued walking backwards, but now, towards his friends again.

  “Let me see,” another boy said, and before I could get to them, the boy that had the picture had passed it on. I wanted to run mad.

  “What are you doing you bastards?” I cried, and went after the one who now had the picture. But he too passed it on before I could get to him.

  “Relax,” I heard them say from somewhere beyond the fury that had set my ears on fire. “Just have fun with us.”

  “Give it back!” I cried, and went after the Indian boy that they had now given it to, but he passed it on, and this time to the red haired boy that had been the first to stop me. I didn’t even realize what I was going to do but one moment I could see him, and the next, I had rushed towards him and shoved him with all my strength.

  The last thing he had expected was to be thrown down the stairs but he was lucky, because at the last moment, he was able to grab unto his friend beside him who had also immediately held unto the wooden handrail next to him, to keep from flying down the stairs. But, because the shove was so forceful, his hand had still slipped away from his friend’s. The reflexive grip had broken his fall, so instead of crashing unto the stairs’ landing, he’d only tumbled down and managed not to turn the entire episode into a nightmare for everyone involved.

  Everyone gasped as he fell back, including me, and we all watched hoping that he would be okay. When barely a few seconds after, he groaned and started trying to rise to his feet, everyone was able to let go of the breath that they had been holding.

 

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