by J. Benson
Taylor placed my bottle of diet soda in front of me on the table with a loud thud that snapped me from my daze. I blinked quickly and gazed down at it.
"Do you want me to open that for you?" He offered, his mouth filled with hamburger, which he had practically consumed in one bite.
I forced my hands to move, and even though my fingers were numb, I managed to untwist the cap. My mouth and throat were parched dry, but I couldn't find the coordination to lift the bottle to my lips.
"You know, this food isn't nearly as bad as hospital food." Taylor mused. "I mean, I know cafeteria food has a bad reputation but this food really isn't that bad. I'm sure it can't be as bad as hospital food."
"It smells the same." There was no point hiding now, the secret was all but out. I might as well scream it from the roof-tops now. "It looks the same."
His nose twitched noticeably. "It doesn't smell. I mean, it does smell, but it smells the same as normal French Fries. It doesn't smell bad..."
"Yes, it does."
"Then you must have a lot more experience in hospitals than I do." He mused.
I nodded slowly and numbly.
"With this H. James, Randal person?"
I nodded again, slower than the last.
"Who was he?"
I was chewing at my lips again, without even realizing I was doing it. "I... I don't want to talk about it. I can't. I can't talk about it. I can't talk about him... I'll talk about anything, or anyone but not him."
He drew in a deep breath and lowered his nearly finished hamburger to his plate. "Maybe you should. You know it can't be healthy to keep all this stuff bottled up... I mean, you would probably feel so much better if you talked about things. You can't keep things to yourself all of the time. What are friends for?"
This comment made me roll my eyes. I didn't need another psychiatrist. I had already seen one, and so had my mother. And that did neither of us any good. She was still a miserable drunk and I was still miserable.
I opened my mouth to say something, but changed my mind and shut it again. I toyed with the lid from my bottle of diet soda for a moment. I stared holes in the table top.
I wanted more than anything to point out that Taylor was not my friend. But so far in this increasingly crowded cafeteria—with all of the eyes on me; watching me and scrutinizing my every move—Taylor was the closest thing I had to a friend.
"I... I should go..." the words were quickly out of my mouth long before I had formed the conscious thought to say them.
"But we aren't finished eating!" He protested, despite the fact that I wasn't eating anyway.
"I... I need to go... I'll explain or... make it up to you later..." I murmured. The nausea was back, and I was suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. I stood quickly, scraping back my chair. I practically ran from the cafeteria, much to Taylor's confusion.
I was almost sure that every other person in the cafeteria was looking at me with the same shocked expression.
I wanted to flee to my car, it felt like the only safe place in the entire school. It felt like the only place I could go where no one was looking at me. But I had left my car keys in my purse. And my purse was in my locker. If I went there, Taylor would certainly follow me. And his friends and followers would easily find me there too. I was running out of options.
I fled into the women's washroom and picked the nearest stall. I shut the door and locked it behind me. I dropped the toilet seat down and sat down on top of it. Hard.
I was falling apart again. I caught my breath in my chest and held it, trying to slow my breathing and my rapidly beating heart. My heart was beating loudly in my ears again. I felt close to tears, trying to force my tears away on sheer determination alone.
I had tried so hard to push everyone away. I had tried even harder to keep my deep, dark and secret sadness hidden from everyone around me. And because of my own big stupid mouth, the whole school would probably know everything in a short amount of time. I hated myself.
I waited until the first bell went signaling the end of the lunch break. I remained perfectly hidden in my cramped bathroom stall until the second bell went--the bell that signaled the start of afternoon classes. I couldn't face anyone right now. I especially couldn't face Taylor, and he was in both of my afternoon classes. I knew I couldn't even look at him right now. Not without bursting into a flood of tears that had been building up for months.
Once I was sure the hallways would be empty, I went to my locker and quickly got out my purse and my books for English. I knew for sure I had homework in English, and if I was going to be skipping class for the rest of the day, I wanted to be sure I at least got my English homework done.
From my locker, I went straight out the front door to my car, and climbed inside. I started my car and drove back to Grandma's house. I knew she would probably be upset with me for missing so much school, but at least I could explain to her what had happened and why I was missing my afternoon classes. I hoped she would understand.
Chapter 14:
Rotten Luck
I forced a brave face and made myself to return to school on Friday; even though it was the last place I wanted to be. The school was literally buzzing with the students who were all excited about that night's dance. I did my best to block out the noise and the conversations, and as the day progressed the conversations became a low din of noise that I could easily block out. I focused on getting through the day, and knew that as soon as I could escape to my car, the entire world would slip away and I would have the entire weekend to myself.
I waited until everyone else in my English class--including Taylor--had left the room before I gathered my things and headed to my next class. The most dreaded of all classes. Gym. On the bright side, I had successfully managed to avoid Taylor. At least for my morning classes. And as far as I knew, he hadn't given me a second glance all day.
I had just barely made it into the locker room on time. I changed into my gym uniform in record timing, and made it to the gym just in time to learn we were now playing volley-ball. I hated sports to begin with, but hard white balls flying through the air was bound to be bad karma, especially since I was already feeling nauseous.
I managed to avoid the ball, and remain on the outskirts of every play so I wasn't noticed by any of the other girls in the class--not that they spoke to me. I watched the clock carefully, watching as every five minutes ticked off slowly. I couldn't help but feel overly paranoid. I wondered if any of these girls knew about what I'd accidentally said to Taylor. I wondered if any of them were talking about me behind my back.
I was still dazed, disoriented and sick from the emotional day before, but class was nearly over. My attention flashed to wherever the ball was so I could at least feign attention to the game. Our team had the ball, so I turned my attention back to the net and the other team, waiting for it to soar over my head.
However, my terrible luck and aptitude for clumsiness kicked in through no fault of my own.
I heard the dull thump before I felt the pain. The dull ache radiated from the back of my skull and quickly shifted around. The pain shot quickly around my skull and into my forehead, where it set up camp as a wicked headache. The pain echoed down the back of my neck. It didn't feel as though the ball had hit me hard enough to knock me over, but I hit the gym floor anyway, sprawling onto my hands and knees helplessly in a mixture of shock and embarrassment.
A culmination of the physical pain from the ball hitting me and the revisited emotional pain took its toll on me and sent me to my knees like a pathetic wounded child in the middle of my gym class.
In the swirling, delirious haze I caught sight of the same blonde girl from Taylor's usual table snickering from behind me. She discretely slapped hands with the girl next to her, grinning proudly.
I sat back on my knees, more stunned than in any lasting physical pain. My pride and my tough exterior were more wounded then my head. I pressed my hand against my forehead and shut my eyes tightly.
Th
e gym teacher was crouching beside me suddenly, lifting me to my feet with more strength than I expected from a high-school gym teacher. I was standing, but in my own world to the point that I could barely stand without swaying dangerously. The gym class was swirling around me. I raised my hand to my head awkwardly.
"Emmeline, I think you should go to the nurse. You may have a concussion." The teacher urged. Her arms locked around me a little too tightly.
"No, I think I'm fine." I mumbled. I didn't even have the mental capacity to correct her on my name. I was more utterly humiliated than physically hurt. "But I'll go to the nurse if you think its best."
I was absolutely desperate to get out of the gym, and away from the prying eyes of my classmates. I was sure my face was tomato red from embarrassment. I shut my eyes to block out the impatient glances of the other girls in the class. None of them looked like they cared at all whether I'd been simply hit by an errant ball or been run over by a train.
"Samantha, will you escort Emmeline to-"
"No!" I cut off the teacher, holding up my hands. "I'm alright. I can walk... I'd prefer to walk myself..."
"You might have a concussion." The teacher tested. "Someone should go with you..."
"It isn't far." I murmured. "I can see, and I don't feel like I'm going to be sick. I'm pretty sure it's not a concussion." I said rationally and evenly. I did feel sick and I felt dizzy too. But I was sure those two symptoms were physically unrelated to getting hit in the head by a ball; but instead a symptom of embarrassment.
Something in my expression convinced the teacher to let me go alone. She simply nodded and released me; I ambled slowly toward the change room to gather my things. I managed to completely resist the urge to run from the gym, covering my red face with my hands. I just wanted out.
I heard the teacher behind me, instructing the rest of the class to resume their game. She suddenly added, "Paige! I'd like a word with you!"
"Me? Why me?! It's not my fault she's clumsy!" I assumed it was Paige speaking. Her voice was high and nasal. I didn't even have to know anything about her; I knew she was an evil bitch.
I heard the rest of the class snicker, as I slipped into the change room.
I changed into my regular clothes, stuffing my gym clothes into my messenger bag. I was too humiliated to go to the nurse, and I didn't see it necessary. I went to my locker and gathered the books I would need for the rest of the day. I realized that I was skipping classes two days in a row, but I couldn't stand to stay here any longer.
I heard the bell ring, and I slowly made my way toward my car. I didn't expect that the gym teacher would check up on me, and I doubted she would check to make sure that I was at the nurse's station with so little time left in the class.
I carried my books to my car and balanced them on the roof while I fumbled through my purse looking for my keys, when I heard a familiar voice. I looked up abruptly and regretted it instantly.
The girl with the curly blonde hair from Taylor's lunch table was walking by with a gaggle of female friends. I was now able to put a name to the face of pure evil.
"Paige." I seethed through gritted teeth.
"Nice rust bucket!" She tossed over her shoulder to me, prompting a series of giggles from her friends.
"Yeah," One of her friend's chimed in. "What garbage can did you dig that P.O.S out of?"
I rolled my eyes. As hard as I was trying to be ignored in this school, I was failing miserably. Less than two weeks at the school and I already had an enemy.
I wrenched open my car door and climbed in. Without doing up my seatbelt, I started the car and gunned the engine irritably. A part of me secretly wished that Paige and her friends would accidentally walk in front of my car simply so I could run them over with it.
My hands were gripping the wheel irritably, and I could feel my teeth grinding. Not only did I now have to deal with utter humiliation, but I had to deal with whatever high-school immaturity and bullying she had to throw at me.
I wasn't looking forward to any of it. I chewed my lip and my car's engine revved impatiently, waiting for me to make a decision. I backed from the parking lot and sped out onto the street, cutting off a rusty ford pickup truck in the process.
When I arrived at my grandmother's house, Grandma was home. I told her I wasn't feeling well, and was going upstairs to take a nap. I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed. I opened a book, but hid it under the blankets when my grandmother came in to bring me soda crackers and warm tea.
I took a short, fitful nap, and woke just before dinner. I was feeling a thousand times better, and it finally settled in that I was away from my rotten high school for a whole weekend. I was even happier that the day had commenced without seeing Taylor or anyone else that might give me any trouble.
As soon as Grandma saw me come downstairs she proclaimed that I looked a thousand times better. She had prepared a fancy formal dinner which was completely unnecessary.
In a rush to get to her Friday night bingo game, I did the dishes by hand since I couldn't seem to work the ancient but perfectly preserved dishwasher.
Grandma was going to be out late, leaving me home alone on a Friday night. At first I considered this a little pathetic. I was home alone on a Friday night while a seventy year old lady was out with a social life.
I almost regretted the decision to go to the dance. But with my better judgment, I really had no one to go with, and I didn't have a dress to wear. But that was only the half of it. Paige and her minions would also be there lying in wait.
After putting everything away, I made myself a hot cup of green tea and selected a book from my already growing library. I changed into a loose white t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts. I walked out onto the front porch and found a seat on the padded bench to read and watch the sun set. I stretched my bare legs out in front of me and balanced my feet on the railing.
It was unseasonably warm for September, something I wasn't completely expecting. I took a small sip of my green tea and sighed. I took a hot cup of tea as a method of relaxation, but simply because it was the only kind of tea I could stomach. The doctors had suggested it for my father whilst he was on chemotherapy, claiming it would help with the upset stomach and aide the nausea. A nurse had claimed that green tea was an herbal means of preventing cancer when my father was in remission, and even though he drank it regularly, it hadn't helped. Green tea was another way I could remember my father. I found it hard to picture him without a cup of tea in his hand.
I shook the memories from my head and turned the page of my book and before long found myself lost in the story completely. I lost track of time entirely, but was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps on the porch stairs.
I looked up in alarm, and with wide eyes noticed that it was slowly growing dark. And standing two feet from me was Taylor.
"Hey," He smiled warmly, and leaned casually against one of the posts. He folded his arms over his chest and eyed me carefully. Even up close he looked like some sort of teenage fashion model.
"Hi." I replied, pursing my lips tightly. "Shouldn't you be at the dance?"
He shrugged and with a sly smile replied. "I decided school dances were lame."
"Right." I said sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.
"Besides, I didn't have a date." He shrugged his shoulders casually.
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please! I'm sure girls are lining up around the block to take you."
He laughed at that. "Right, well, from what I hear, you've got a number of possible dates. Myself included."
I shook my head and dropped my legs from the railing. "Because I'm new meat, right?"
"There's more to it than that." He smiled, "I think people are just trying to get to know you a little better."
I raised my eyebrows. "Well, they shouldn't." I muttered and folded my arms around myself. "Why are you here anyway?"
He shrugged his shoulders casually. "Well, I figured that you were alone and I was alone... I thou
ght maybe we can hang out... And besides, I thought I might be able to help you with your math and science homework... Since you missed two afternoons in a row..."
"I think I'll pass. I doubt it'll be that hard to catch up in math and science." I lied. "And what do you propose we do while 'hanging out'? I'm afraid I'm not much company." I sighed.
He crossed the veranda in two long strides and sat down in a wicker arm chair. "We could talk for a bit. I wouldn't mind getting to know you a little better."
"There's nothing to know." I replied. "What you see is what you get."
Surprisingly, Taylor grinned. "I highly doubt that. I've known you for almost a week, and I can already tell that there's so much I don't know about you... so much that no one knows about you."
"Taylor..." I began. "I really don't feel comfortable with...."
"Why not? Who am I going to tell?"
"Everyone?" I responded without hesitation. "That's kind of the point."
"You have my word that I won't tell a soul." Taylor said. "Cross my heart and hope to die." He swore.
I sighed. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because it's too much, Taylor. And even if I do tell you, what good would it do? It would make you never want to speak to me again, and it would be a completely futile effort on my part."
"Emma, I hardly doubt that there's anything you could tell me that would push me away. What little I already know about you makes me want to know you more. And even if some of that is very confusing, it doesn't change the fact that I like you. I think we could be great friends at the very least."
"At the least?" I questioned unnecessarily.
He drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly through his nose. "I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have a crush on you. And I highly doubt there is anything you could say to me about your past that would push me away."
I drew in a deep breath. There was something about his honest face and beautiful blue eyes.