by Dani Hart
My mom pulled into the driveway, so whatever was in the woods was surely scared off, leaving me wondering what I really saw.
I WAS BACK AT my window the next morning, my sleepless nights having returned with Wes, along with a darkness that I feared would take me down for good this time. The anticipation for school tomorrow was debilitating. The last time Wes and I saw each other was intense. Too intense. Earth-shattering intense. Did he blame me for what happened? It was a horrible accident. Even now, pain radiated throughout my body like a radioactive time bomb as my muscle memory relived the injury. I hurt everywhere.
“Knock, knock.”
Incapable of moving my head in Kendra’s direction, I fixated on the raindrops that pounded my window fiercely. It was ominous outside, foreshadowing my impending doom tomorrow.
“Your mom called me to stage an intervention.” She crawled onto my bed.
“An intervention is normally attended by more than one person.” I smiled weakly.
“Your lack of social competence changed the rules,” she responded smartly.
“Ouch. Nice intervention.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Besides, I have the same social ineptness.” She sat back on the bed.
“By choice,” I reminded her. “All the girls want to be you, and all the boys want to be with you. I’m just your wing girl.” I kept my voice absent of any petulance. In all honesty, I didn’t envy Kendra. I saw how uncomfortable the attention made her. I was convinced she became my friend so she could hide behind me—her invisible cloak.
She sighed. “I’m not joining your pity party. I’m here to get your butt out of bed.”
“What if I don’t want to?” I challenged her. “Besides, I am out of bed. See?” I waved to the window seat I was perched on. However, the bed did sound much better right now, so I crawled under the blanket. “Now I’m in bed.”
“Fine. Then I’m going to get under the covers with you and breathe loudly in your ear until I drive you absolutely insane.”
Keeping her promise when I didn’t move, she climbed beneath my sheets, throwing her arm around me, positioning her mouth as close to my ear as possible, and breathed in and out deeply. Her breath tickled, eliciting a laugh rather than the annoyance she was hoping for.
“Even your breath is perfect. Is that mint?” I finally sat up, surrendering to her serious lack of intervention skills.
“Yes.” Her smile was bigger-than-life.
“Yes, you’re perfect, or yes, it’s mint?”
“Both.” She winked.
Amused disbelief forced a smile. Throwing my blankets off, I shuffled back to the window seat. The chill from the storm outside penetrated the glass.
“Is that the same shirt you wore shopping?” she asked, disgusted.
Sheepishly, I turned to her and showed her my best innocent smile.
“Gross. Shower. Now.” Kendra pointed her finger to the bathroom.
“Seriously?” I raised one of my eyebrows in defiance.
“Yes! Go, or I’m telling everyone you fainted because of a boy.” Her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her lips pressed in a promise.
My heart stopped at the mention of him.
“You’re turning white.” Her eyes widened in recognition. “That’s why you fainted?” She threw her hand over her mouth. “Are you going to faint again?”
With rushing speed, Kendra ran to my side. If I hadn’t been sitting, I probably would have fallen to the floor.
“I…I think a shower’s a good idea.” My voice cracked. I stumbled off the window seat and made my way to the bathroom and locked myself inside.
Memories of the eighth grade, when my world first came crashing down, rushed me. A young heart shattered to pieces and confidence stripped. I knew what was coming. It was familiar and painful, and its wrath would be quick and merciless.
An anxiety attack.
I quickly turned the shower on, before the sadness consumed me, and curled into a fetal position on the shower floor, hot water dissolving my tears while my chest heaved wildly, the breaths hard to catch in between. Horror at what tomorrow would bring filled my head with gut-wrenching clarity. I would be invisible to him, proving an ordinary girl could never be good enough for someone so extraordinary. It was something I had always feared. My feelings would remain unrequited.
Kendra stayed with me, reminding me when it was time to eat, something I had barely done all weekend. She even sat in absolute silence with me as we watched the growing storm outside. The storm I would face tomorrow would be worse. Maybe Mrs. Know-It-All was right. Maybe I was fragile.
DOOMSDAY MORNING HAD arrived too quickly, my routine being my only saving grace, eating my usual cereal while my mom hummed over a cup of coffee. She was knitting, but also watching me carefully. Her eyes followed me everywhere around the kitchen.
“I was worried I would have to drag you to school,” she spoke carefully.
“I’m not in kindergarten.” A surprisingly unpleasant tone inflicted my words. The hurt registered on her face immediately, flushing my cheeks with regret. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little on edge.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I knew what she was thinking. That I was sinking again. I wondered the same thing, but wasn’t I stronger now? Hadn’t I grown in two years? My dark days had nearly broken our family last time. My parents were so worried about me and couldn’t agree on how to proceed, creating a tumultuous atmosphere around the house. My dad had finally accepted work out of the country to escape it, leaving my mom to try to drag the broken pieces of me back together. Now I felt worse for snapping at her. I took a bite of cereal, apologizing silently.
“Do you want me to drive you to school today?”
“Kendra’s probably already waiting for me.” I caught her disappointment. “Thank you, though.” I stood up and put my bowl into the sink, having only taken one bite, still absent of an appetite, and headed out the door with my book bag.
Kendra and I started walking to school sophomore year, saving us from unnecessary embarrassment. Neither one of us wanted to show up with our parents. It would prompt all the questions about why I didn’t drive yet, and while Kendra had a valid reason, I didn’t. At least not any I was willing to share. I could lie and say I didn’t have my license yet, but then there would be more questions. Why not? Did you fail the test? Awkward conversations from nosy peers. No thanks. So instead, we would walk through the parking lot as if we had driven.
I met Kendra at the bottom of my driveway. We were off to start our junior year at Sandpoint High where our class was only 159 students strong. One hundred sixty now that Wes was back. The senior class growing by two, courtesy of the Hunter twins.
“Do you like?” My naturally beautiful friend waved her hands across her new outfit from our failed shopping trip. Well, my failed shopping trip. She did quite well from what I could see.
“It looks great on you. Orange is definitely your color, and the dress hugs your best features,” I said as cheerfully as possible to show my support.
I, on the other hand, wore a plain black V-neck and jeans. I was never much of a fashionista, and luckily, it didn’t bother my friend. My goals today were simple—go unnoticed and don’t faint.
Kendra had an uncharacteristic bounce in her step today. Her excitement would have been infectious had dread not been increasing with each stride that brought me closer to the longest seven hours of my life.
“This is our year, Abby. I can feel it.”
She interlocked her confidence with my apprehension, dragging us more quickly to the first day of my glum future, predictability falling to the wayside. Every car that passed by had my heart palpitating, only brave enough to peek up to see its taillights. My stomach was painfully tight, and my nerves riled up as I looked for the steely gray convertible that had turned my perfectly predictable world upside down.
We made it to the parking lot in record time, and I searched nervously f
or his car, sucking in a deep breath of relief when it was absent. My muscles finally relaxed a bit. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.
My self-assurance lasted all of three minutes from the time my foot hit the parking lot pavement to the moment it entered the halls of my own claustrophobic nightmare filled with a herd of students. It was impossible to move without grazing a shoulder or stepping on a heel. The eyes of my peers followed me in the hallway, my invisibility temporarily broken because of my fainting episode. I tucked my head down to my red Chucks and shuffled quickly to my locker.
“I guess Natalie’s tall tale wasn’t overshadowed by some other magnificent event.”
I peered up to catch Kendra glaring at the onlookers and catching a whisper close by.
“Do you think she knows?” The squirrely girl with accusatory eyes stared straight at me, her words mocking me.
The hall doors suddenly slammed open, and the fear on the top of my list manifested. Eyes were no longer fixed upon me. They were on the trio that drifted gracefully into the front office. The Hunter siblings. My stomach churned, and I felt like I was going to be sick.
A copious amount of apologetic eyes met mine. Except for a group of condescending ones that I was ashamed were associated with my former best friends. They stood in a tight circle smirking at my misfortune.
My breakdown when the Hunters left town was no secret and neither were my feelings for Wes. Obsession. I wanted to scream at all of them to leave me alone, but I slammed my locker closed instead and walked quickly to the girls’ bathroom, careful not to breathe, fearing that would cause an uproar of chatter to break through the rare silence that plagued a high school hall. I hid in a stall, sitting on the seat and lifting my knees to my chest, waiting for the bell to ring and the halls to clear. I pulled on the laces of my shoes, bringing me back to that horrible day when everything changed. I was so caught up in my head, I didn’t realize I was crying until the drops stained my favorite pair of shoes a darker shade of red.
“Abby, what’s going on?” Concern echoed off the bathroom walls.
“Nothing. I’m fine.” I wiped under my eyes.
“The whispered gossip in the hallway would beg to differ.”
Kendra’s cute little pink flats peeked under the stall. Luckily, the bell rang, saving me from any confessions for a little while longer.
“I don’t want to be late,” she pleaded as one of her pink flats tapped anxiously.
“Just go, please. I’ll be okay. I just need a minute.” I steadied my voice as best as I could.
Without another word, her flats disappeared and the door shut. Confident I was alone, I peeked out the bathroom door to an empty hallway. I sped to my first class, the white soles of my shoes squeaking across the smooth linoleum. When several pairs of footsteps chorused with mine, I broke into a slow jog, not daring a glance over my shoulder. I slipped into creative writing just in time to avoid potential disaster in the hallway. Not that it couldn’t have been anyone other than Wes, but I wasn’t ready to take that chance. Not yet. When I turned from the door, the class went silent. The first day of school and I had become the center of attention.
“Miss Rose?”
At Mr. Dixon’s confused stare, I realized I hadn’t moved. I scanned the room and found an empty seat next to a girl named Sandy. She was Switzerland in the land of Sandpoint High. She kept to herself and never engaged in gossip. She was safe.
Creative writing was my favorite subject, but my thoughts wandered elsewhere as I tapped my pencil nervously on the desk.
“Abby, do you mind?” Sandy was glaring at my pencil.
“Sorry.” I bit my lip and put down the pencil, the nervous energy traveling to my foot.
Annoyance stared at me out of the corner of Sandy’s eye.
“Sorry,” I mumbled again. Keeping my body still for forty-eight minutes was torturous, and I hadn’t even written my name on my paper when Mr. Dixon came around collecting our assignments. He stopped at my table and stared at my blank paper.
“You can finish it after school,” he said as he continued walking around the classroom. Shrugging pathetically, I gathered my things when the bell rang. One class down and I had already managed to earn detention. I didn’t even know what the assignment was, so I glanced at the board as I walked by.
What are you most looking forward to this year?
It took every last ounce of strength in me to focus on the rest of my classes before lunch. I wasn’t in the market for racking up detentions my first week. The whispers around me continued, and I prayed something catastrophic would happen to someone else to take the attention off of me.
“Hey, how did the morning go?” Kendra’s larger-than-life smile met me at my locker.
She was a walking bubble of positivity. It was no wonder why she was able to pull me out of that deep hole I dove into years ago. I handed her my detention slip.
“Already? That’s gotta be a record.” She handed it back to me.
“Not a record I wanted,” I grumbled.
As hard as I tried to keep my head to the floor as we walked to the cafeteria, the urge to see if he was around tempted me enough to peer up every so often. I stood behind Kendra at the salad bar, not picking up anything.
“You have to eat something, Abby. You’re practically skin and bones.”
“Thanks, Mom, but I prefer to keep the contents of my stomach securely in place.” However, I did grab an orange. I didn’t want to risk a fainting episode in front of the whole student body.
We found an empty table tucked in the corner of the lunchroom where I preferred sitting when the weather was bad. It had started raining again.
“It’s really coming down.” Kendra took a bite of her salad.
“Yeah, and I forgot my jacket at home.” I peeled the skin off my orange absentmindedly, cringing every time someone walked into the cafeteria.
“At some point, you’re going to have to tell me what’s up with you and the new kids.” Kendra waved her fork in my direction, spinach and tomato threatening to fly off with each syllable.
“I will. And they aren’t new.” She looked at me curiously, but kept quiet.
I resigned to the fact that keeping this from her was not only wrong, but doing me a disservice. I could use someone to confide in, and I had never spoken about what happened. I never thought I would need to.
The Hunters didn’t grace us with their presence at lunch, which made my nerves frantic. At least if I had tabs on where he was I could go out of my way to avoid him, but I had the nagging feeling that he was doing just that. Avoiding me. The thought stung in places that had been dead for so long. He was reviving a part of me I didn’t want to resurrect.
By the end of the day, I hadn’t run into the enchanting trio, and the stares subsided as word got around that Natalie and Donny had broken up. It was the event I hoped for. I checked into Mr. Dixon’s class after school and concentrated hard on what to write. I began by writing my name and the title of the assignment.
Abigail Rose
Period 1
8/15
What are you most looking forward to this year?
Surviving.
I didn’t know what else to write, so I handed Mr. Dixon an unfinished assignment and walked out into the rain. The parking lot became deserted in those thirty long minutes. I told Kendra not to wait for me, so I was on my own.
Stepping out into the rain from the protection of the overhang, I crossed my arms for warmth and ran across the parking lot, miraculously managing not to slip and fall in the process. I slowed my pace slightly when I reached the sidewalk. Running or not, it was inevitable that I was going to be drenched, and I really didn’t want to scrape my knees up any further. They were still pretty bruised from the other day.
My socks were already wet from the puddles I hadn’t been lucky enough to miss in my sprint. The slick sidewalk glowed brightly as headlights drifted up slowly behind me, standing the hairs up on the back of my neck. My mi
nd was chanting please don’t be him, please don’t be him, but my heart was screaming please be him, please be him. I let out a deep breath when a blue truck passed me, one part of me relieved, the other part disappointed. I was less than pleased when it sprayed me with water that had collected at the curb.
“Jerk,” I huffed.
The chill set into my bones as I trudged on slowly. Finally lifting my eyes from the ground, I saw it. The gray convertible parked along the residential street across from the school. My breath hitched, and my heart froze. I wrapped my arms tighter around my body as tremors rolled through me. Not from the cold, but from the mere presence of him. I hated him and tears immediately trailed down my cheeks mixing with the rain. I wanted to storm over to his flashy car, yank open his door, and scream at him for all the pain he made me endure for the past two years.
I had one foot to the street, ready to make good on the promise, when the door opened and Wes slid out. We were more than a street width a part, but I could still feel his eyes burning into my soul. Neither one of us moved, the rain pounding us harder. My heart was racing painfully.
What was he waiting for?
As we stood there, unmoving, flashes of our past kept me company in the quiet. My heart laughed, but also cried. My hate roared fiercely while my love burned brightly. I was conflicted, and the only thing I was sure of right now was that he did this to me and that I would never forgive him. I should have just walked away, leaving him to ponder my silence, but I couldn’t.
“I hate you, Wes Hunter,” I choked back my tears as I yelled across the street, my words muffled with the storm. “I hate you for abandoning me, and I hate you for coming back.” He didn’t move. I shook my head in disgust and continued home, weaving around puddles and overflowing gutters through the old neighborhood where I lived, which consisted mainly of senior citizens. When Kendra moved next door, I was more than pleased to not be the only teenager in a half-mile radius anymore.
