I'm Pretty Sure You're Gonna Miss Me Ronin McKinsey

by M. J. Padgett

  “You okay, Peaches?” Daniel asked.

  “Yeah, fine. That was... I don’t think we really need to rub it in anymore, you know? I’m over him, so...” I didn’t know what else to say. I loved kissing Daniel, but with every passing day, I knew the more we pretended to be together, the harder it would be to say goodbye. And we would have to say goodbye at some point, because he had plans, and I only had vague ideas of what I wanted with my life.

  “Hey,” he said, lifting my chin. “I didn’t mean to make this awkward. Let’s go, so you have time to change,” he said. Once under cover of the awning, he hugged me. “I’ll let you know about Becca’s appointment when I know something. See you at lunch, Peaches.”

  I waved at him as he retreated, and the warning bell rang. So much for changing before class. I made my way quickly to my first class and shuffled in, soaking wet. Sara was already in her seat, and because she’s an awful person, she covered her nose and said, “Ew, does anyone else smell wet dog?”

  A few people chuckled, but most people ignored her. I sat close to the back, under the air vent with the hope it would dry me a little faster. The class dragged along, probably because my jeans were wet and annoying, so time decided to make me suffer as long as possible. Finally, the bell rang, and I bolted out, desperate to get to my locker to change before the second period.

  That was the plan, but Sara happened. It seemed Sara or Ronin were always in my way when I had things to do. “Stop right there!” she shouted at me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. We need to talk,” Sara said, her hair an even brighter shade of blonde than before. If she kept on, it would either go white or fall out by prom.

  “I don’t have anything to say to you, Sara. You said your piece with the twenty-seven text messages you sent, but you should know it was a waste of your time. I don’t want Ronin,” I said, turning to walk away.

  “You say that like he was an option. Well, he wasn’t. He’s mine, and he’s happy now,” she said.

  “You know, you keep saying that, but he keeps telling me he doesn’t like you. I think you’re trying awfully hard to prove a point that doesn’t exist, Sara.” I said, still walking to my locker. I didn’t have time for her—enough was enough already.

  She caught up to me and grabbed my bag, jerking me back. “Sara, let go of me. Get over yourself already and leave me alone.” I started to walk again, but she stopped me again.

  “I’m not done talking to you. I’m telling you one last time, stay away from him, or else,” Sara snapped.

  I stared into her eyes, such a change from a few weeks ago when I thought we were friends. “You know what, Sara? I think all that bleach you’re using has gone to your brain.”

  She snickered. “At least I’m not dating a loser. Seriously, where did you find that guy?”

  I resisted the urge to punch her in the face, choosing instead to be the bigger person. Turns out, I had more people in my corner than I realized. A random girl I had never spoken to in my life, passed us in the hall and said, “She got him from Hot Guys R Us, right down the street from You’re a Horrible Person.”

  “Excuse me?” Sara spat, “Who do you think you are?”

  “Just a random spectator; don’t mind me,” she said, the bright green stripe in her hair making her look like a rock star paired with her faded band t-shirt. The girl started to walk away, but turned back and said, “By the way, you’ve got something on your butt.”

  Sara turned and twisted around to see what it could be. When she found nothing, she glared at her. “There’s nothing there.”

  The girl licked her finger and wiped a lipstick smudge from Sara’s face. “Sorry, I meant your face. It’s so hard to tell the difference.” With that, my new idol walked down the hall and into her classroom. I shrugged at Sara and left her standing there, huffing and puffing.

  Unfortunately, there was no time to change after my pleasant interaction with Sara. I’d have to suffer through another class with wet clothes, but I did make a mental note to figure out who the fantastic person was that intervened on my behalf. I chuckled, thinking of her, but it was not enough to take my mind off my damp jeans. I wished they’d hurry and dry, because every time I thought about them, I thought about rain, and thinking about the rain made me think of Daniel and that amazing kiss.

  The second before I stepped into class, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and swiped to read the messages Daniel sent me.

  Bad news. Becca’s appointment did not go well. Her condition is too advanced for the trial. Not feeling school today. Going home.

  My heart sank again, feeling awful for Becca. She seemed like a lovely person, and I had prayed so hard that the treatment would be an option for her. Surely, other options could be explored. I responded to his text, debating whether I even wanted to go to class. He had to be miserable, and I didn’t want him to be so sad and stuck alone.

  Now what? What else is there to try?

  I slipped away from the door, going unnoticed by the teacher. Maybe I could go to the nurse’s office and pretend I was sick? My stomach wasn’t all that happy after getting Daniel’s messages, so I could probably pull it off.

  This was the last option. There’s nothing left to try. Becca will be totally blind by her seventeenth birthday. Meet me after school, and tell me all the details about Sara’s takedown.

  I’d all but forgotten about the cheer regulations, with the rain kiss and my confrontation with the devil herself. There was no way I was doing it without him. It was thanks to him I even had a chance of getting my spot back.

  It can wait until tomorrow. I’ll call you soon.

  I stuffed my phone in my pocket and called my Dad, begging him to get me an early dismissal. “Dad, I promise it’s for a good reason. I’ll come to the hospital and explain,” I said.

  “Fine, be here in twenty minutes, Hazel. I mean it, no running off and thinking I’ll just let it go again, got me?”

  “Yes sir,” I said, heading toward the door. There were specialists at the hospital, maybe they could help Becca? I wanted to try because I felt useless. Daniel was upset, and I couldn’t do anything to change it, which made me feel like the world’s worst best friend.

  I hoped I didn’t run any red lights on the way to the hospital, because I didn’t recall seeing any lights at all. I parked outside the ER and hurried through the double doors. “Hey, Georgia, can I see my father?” I asked the receptionist who’d known me since the day Rose and I were born.

  “Sure, honey. Go on back.” She buzzed me into the back, and I found him typing notes into a computer in the nurse’s station, grumbling at the screen when it didn’t display what he wanted. His lips pursed and forehead narrowed, I wasn’t sure it was the best time to interrupt him, but I had no choice.

  “Daddy?” I caught his attention, but he only held up a finger until he was finished typing. When he was done, he dropped his stethoscope on the desk and walked around the island to meet me. He hugged me tightly and motioned toward the lounge area.

  Once inside, he asked, “What’s this about, honey? You seem frazzled, are you feeling okay?”

  “What can you do to help someone with Stargardt disease?” I asked, getting right to the point.

  “Stargardt?” he asked. “Who has that?”

  “Daniel’s sister. She’s in Florida right now, at the Mayo clinic. I guess there was some experimental something or other, but they said her condition is too advanced. I’m not sure what that means, but she already can’t see anything clearly,” I said.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. It means there won’t be anything that can be done to save her vision. I’m afraid Daniel’s sister’s vision will be severely impaired unless new treatments are developed,” he said, sitting on the sofa beside me.

  “There has to be something? Anything?” I begged.

  “No, Hazel, I’m afraid there’s not. Perhaps one day, a treatment will be discovered, but right now, there just isn’
t one that can help someone with a case that advanced. The best thing you can do is help her amplify her other senses. Studies that show people who lose vision, eventually have increased auditory functions, and even tactile senses and taste can be improved.”

  “What good is that when you can’t see, Dad? What will she do now?” I scoffed.

  “A lot of good, Hazel. Just because she lost her sight doesn’t mean she’s doomed to fail life, honey. There are a lot of blind people who use their other senses, and in many ways, they are better at their craft than those with all five senses. I’ll remind you, some of my favorite musicians were blind,” he teased, reminding me of the days he used to make Rose and me listen to blues on the car ride home from school.

  “What can I do to help her with that?” I asked.

  “Remind her that she’s still a whole person and support her through the depression that’s bound to come,” he said, but I had no idea how to do that. How does one support someone whose depression stems from something I could never really understand? What could I do to show her I was in her corner? My father’s mention of blind musicians got me thinking.

  “Daddy? Can I use my emergency credit card for something?” I asked.

  “Define something.”

  “A gift for Becca, something that can help her feel in control of her future. Something to show her she can still do things,” I said.

  He thought for a moment. “Okay, but you have to pay us back by the end of summer.”

  “Deal. Can I also stay out for the rest of the day? I promise I won’t ask again.” He gave me a warning look.

  “You’re pushing the envelope here, but since it’s for a good cause, I’ll allow it just this once. You can’t go around breaking curfew and skipping school, especially in your senior year. You’ve followed the rules all your life, kiddo. I don’t know how to ground disobedient kids,” he said, chuckling. He stood and opened the lounge door, so he could get back to work.

  “Hazel?” he said as I passed.

  “Yeah, Dad?”

  “I’m proud of you, honey. I’m proud of the person you are. Don’t ever change.”

  He couldn’t have known what his words meant to me, and he couldn’t have known just how much I needed to hear them from someone who’d known me all my life.

  I raced to my car and drove to the music store downtown. I had no idea how much money I was about to drop on someone I hardly knew, but I felt compelled to do it anyway. The door dinged—why? Why did doors always ding? Especially when the ding did nothing to gain the attention of the extremely bored-looking college-aged guy behind the desk.

  “Hello? Can you help me, please?” I asked as I smacked the bell on the counter. So many bells, but none seemed to catch his attention. “Hello!” I waved my hands around until he finally saw me from the corner of his eye.

  “Oh, sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.” He pulled a set of earbuds from his ears and closed the magazine he was looking through. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m looking for an instrument for a friend. She’s, well, she’s going blind and... I don’t know what I’m doing, really, I just want to help her,” I said, hoping somehow he would understand what I was trying to do.

  He stared at me for a moment, but not as if I were a strange person interrupting his day of doing nothing, but instead contemplating my rambling. “I’d go with a violin, I think. The sound is close to the ear, and she’ll enjoy it more. It will help her intensify her auditory range, which is what I assume your goal is?”

  “Exactly!” I shouted, glad he made sense of my word jumble.

  “Happens more than you’d think. I’d go with this one.” He handed me a slim violin that was pretty, but not overly ornate. “It’s not expensive, and it’s a good beginner style. Pair that with this, and you’ve got a good start for a blind student.” He handed me a book of CDs titled Learning to Play by Ear: A Beginner’s Tool.

  “This was far less painful than I anticipated. Thank you so much,” I said.

  “Sure, and when she’s ready, we have classes every Friday night for both sighted and non-sighted learners,” he added. “Let me get this charged up, and I’ll box it for you.”

  I left the store with a brand-new violin and high hopes for Becca. I drove much more carefully to Daniel’s house and realized he’d walked all the way there from school since his bike was still at my home. He’d probably be tired in addition to upset, but I hoped I could cheer him up if only a little. I rang the doorbell and waited with my surprise in hand. It had stopped raining, and the sun was trying hard to peek through the clouds.

  The door opened, and Daniel smiled. “Peaches! What are you doing here?” He pulled me into the house in a bear hug, almost making me drop the box.

  “Don’t worry. I got permission from my Dad to skip. I’m all yours until you feel like kicking me out,” I said, settling on the sofa he’d dropped me onto.

  “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the box.

  “A gift for your sister! I talked to my Dad. He said the best thing we can do is help Becca learn to amplify her other senses, so I thought, why not learn to play an instrument? Look, there are CDs and Braille books and everything, so she can learn something new to help her cope with losing her vision. The guy at the store said there are classes every Friday for beginners, even for those who are visually impaired. If she is interested, I got the card from—”

  “Whoa, Peaches, take a breath,” he said, laughing.

  I was too busy selling the idea to breathe, so I took a deep inhale and glanced back to the box. Daniel opened it and peered at his sister’s new violin. He grazed his fingers over the shiny wood and looked up at me. “You did all this for my sister? You barely know her.”

  “Well, yeah,” I said, then grew concerned. “Oh, no. Is it too much? Did I go overboard again? I’m sorry if I overstepped or went too far.”

  He shook his head, his hazel eyes watery. So much so, I thought he might be holding back tears. He blinked, confirming my suspicions as fat tears slipped over his cheeks.

  He sighed and pulled me into another hug. “No, Peaches. It’s just the right amount of much.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  BECCA’S GIFT WENT OVER even better than I’d expected. Once she and her mother arrived home, she stormed to her room and slammed the door. I met Ms. Starnes for the first time when Daniel shoved me in her face and announced that I was the most amazing person in the world. She sighed, tired and disappointed, but she did her best to make me feel welcome even though her son was wired for sound and bouncing off the walls. She had no idea why until he showed her what I had gotten for her daughter.

  Ms. Starnes’ mood was instantly improved, and she agreed with Daniel that I was, in fact, the most amazing person in the world. By the time I left to head home for dinner, Becca had cried twice, laughed until she snorted four times, and thanked me half a million times. She began immediately, in dire need of something to distract her from the pain of knowing she would never clearly again. I imagined it was more challenging to lose your vision than to have never had it at all, but I suppose, in the end, it’s all the same—gone is gone—and in Becca’s words, I’d given her a chance to see through music.

  If I’d known how awful it would sound, I would have left before she picked up the bow. But I believed she would learn, and I convinced Daniel I was right. His delight with my gift did a total one-eighty after two solid hours of listening to Becca screeching away on her new violin. I do believe he would have wrung my neck if his mother were not present, but every time he heard her laugh at her mistake, his heart warmed a little, and he eased up on the death glares sent my way. When his mother told him she planned to take Becca to visit their grandparents in the morning, his jovial mood returned.

  He rode back to my house with me to retrieve his bike, reminding me of my promise to let him have a front-row seat to Sara’s devastation, which brought me to the moment I’d been waiting for.

  The next day, I schedule
d a meeting with the cheer coach at lunch, during which she agreed with my assessment of the regulation. She also agreed we would discuss it with the team after school, just before practice.

  Sara’s platinum blonde hair appeared before she did, the shocking, unnatural color demanding attention. She saw me seated beside Daniel and didn’t bother to hide her disgust. “What are you doing here?”

  “I invited her. Girls, let’s have a seat. We have a few things to discuss before practice,” Coach said.

  They all gathered, taking seats on the bleachers. They looked downright miserable, and I would soon find out why. The coach stood in front with her clipboard and a copy of the handbook. “It has been brought to my attention that competition regulation states that no qualified team may change their line-up less than sixty days before regionals, except for injury. Miss Simmons appears healthy enough, so I’m assuming there is some other reason you all voted to replace her? Or are you just silly enough to throw away your chance at a bid to nationals over a boy?”

  “I’m sorry, we have no idea what you’re talking about. Hazel resigned,” Sara said. The other girls kept quiet, though, from the looks on their faces, this was all news to them.

  Coach sighed and dropped her clipboard to the ground. Her hands went to her face, and she let out a frustrated groan. When she removed her hands, she said, “I’m not sure why students think teachers have no idea what goes on around here, but let me enlighten you. We know all about the drama surrounding Ronin McKinsey, Sara. It’s hard to miss a four-layer chocolate cake smashed on the floor.”

  She crossed her arms and continued her speech. “I highly doubt Miss Simmons resigned her position after working so hard to get us to regionals, so don’t insult my intelligence with weak excuses. I’m going to make this very simple. You have a choice, continue on with Sara as your captain and give up your chance to win a national title, or reinstate Hazel effective immediately. All those in favor of reinstatement, please raise your hand.”