I lifted my backpack over my shoulder and closed the Subaru door. The front of the school loomed over me, filling me with trepidation. I turned and grabbed for the door handle, the automatic locks bolting down with a clank and impeding my way back to security. My eyes flashed up to my father’s. He shook his head, lowering the window just enough I couldn’t reach through.

“You have to go back sometime. Might as well be today.”

“Tomorrow. I promise. I’ll go tomorrow.” I only needed one more day…or a week…of not having people staring, whispering, and asking if I was okay.

“Tomorrow is already Friday.”

“Yeah, works for me. The day after is even better.” They wanted to start me off slow, with a couple of half days, but next week I’d go back full time.

“Mom will pick you up after lunch.” He ignored my pleading. “She thought you might enjoy spending time with your friends.” No, she wanted me to spend time with them. I wanted to go home and hide under my covers.

Inhale, Jayme. You can do this. I bit down on my lip and turned back to the school, giving my dad a little wave over my shoulder. He pulled away quickly, probably afraid I’d change my mind again.

My shoes hit the stone steps, my legs slowly taking me to the main entrance, aching with each tread. I clutched the railing, pausing for a breath. I refused to bring my crutches, not wanting the extra attention. I was already regretting it. My eyes flickered to the main entrance. People moved around me and shuffled through the front doors.

Suddenly memories besieged me: Colton kissing me on the steps. The countless times we walked hand and hand through the front doors. I clutched my chest. I couldn’t stop from looking over my shoulder at the football field. A lacy mist hovered over the green lawn, rays of early morning sun reflecting off the fog. He would never play on that field again. Or any other. Sadness stung my eyes.

I finally crossed the entrance threshold, sweat tickling my brow, and stopped. The familiar hallway lingered before me. It was exactly the same. Ghosts of Colton occupied every inch. Recollections of his voice calling my name down these hallways reverberated in my head.

Gazes burned into me, following me through the hall to my locker, like a I was some freak experiment in a jar. I swallowed and took a deep breath. My cheeks burned, and my throat itched, thickening with the thought that Colton wouldn’t be here to save me. To happily take the attention off me.

The first bell rang, rousing the sleepwalking students from their stupor, looking like electrocuted zombies.

“Jaymerson!” Savannah’s high-pitched squeal jolted me. The brunette beauty dashed straight for me. Her eyes roved over all the people gawking. “You’re back!”

“Hey,” I greeted her as she crashed into the locker next to mine, ignoring the boy trying to get into it.

“Hey?” she repeated, emphasizing the word dramatically. “All I get is hey? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back today? This is exciting.” Exciting is not how I would classify it. Gut wrenching, awkward, sad, uncomfortable, and strange, maybe. “I’m glad you’re back. We’ve missed you so much at cheerleading practice. You’re coming today, right? Coach will be happy.” She flattened back into the locker, playing with the ends of her long hair before she flung it over her shoulder.

The speed with which she talked spun my head. Her buzzing energy now made me feel as if I kept getting hit by a drive-by.

“Oh my god. Everyone is staring at you.” She whispered loudly, glancing around. Her mouth twisted in a frown, but her eyes glinted with excitement. She liked the attention any way it came. “Move along now.” She swished her hand at the people, directing it mostly at the boy standing next to her.

“I-I’m trying to get into my locker,” the boy stuttered, pointing behind her. He looked to be a freshman and clearly intimated by her.

“So?” she replied.

I slammed my locker, grabbed her arm, and pulled her away. She glared at the boy over her shoulder but quickly turned the moment we stepped away.

“There is so much to catch up on. Jason and I are back together. Well, at least this week. Carrie is all excited and wants to take me shopping.” Savannah rolled her eyes. “Okay, what else? Chloe is seeing this college guy. He’s so hot. I’m going with her to a party this weekend. Do you want to come?” I shook my head. “You should. There will be so many hot guys there.” She winked. Savannah had no clue how insulting and hurtful she could be. Did she think I could easily get over Colton’s death and look for another boyfriend? “Madison still has the hots for Adam, but he’s into a cheerleader at our rival school.” She rattled on. I was barely listening, my focus on trying to walk to my class, without either collapsing or having a breakdown. The pain in my body was nothing compared to my heart.

At least Savannah didn’t ask many questions, mostly talking about herself and her drama. We got to the doorway of my class. “I’ll see you at lunch. Glad you’re back.” She drifted away, waving over her shoulder. “I’ll tell Coach you’ll be there later.”

I didn’t even try to argue. It was pointless. I inhaled deeply and took a step into the room. Colton had been in my first and third-period classes. Today I had to get through them without noticing the empty seat next to mine.

I pinched my lips together as I walked into the room. Mom had sensed this would be a tough day and set up an extra counseling session for later. I didn’t want to go. The counselor would only force me to relive this, talk about it. I didn’t want to do either. I wanted to be left alone.

“Good morning, Jaymerson.” My English teacher, Mr. Foster, nodded at me. “Good to have you back.”

I nodded and moved toward my seat, my gaze drifted to the vacant desk beside mine. I settled down in my chair while students ran in as the final bell rang, filling the seats around me.

I tried not to keep glancing over at Colton’s vacant spot, but my gaze drifted against my will. When I turned to look, Colton sat next to me, a goofy smile on his face. “Hey, babe.” His playful voice sounded like honey to my wounded heart.

I jerked back with a yelp, closing my eyes. When I reopened them, the space was empty.

“Jaymerson?” Mr. Foster called my name. “Are you all right?”

I nodded, suddenly overly aware of everyone in the class staring at me. “Uh. Yes. Fine,” I replied, heat rushing over me.

Mr. Foster didn’t look convinced, but he accepted it. “All right, class, attention back up here. I hope you did the reading, because we are having a pop quiz.”

The class made a collective groan.

“Except you, Jaymerson; you can take it later if you’d like.”

I shook my head. “No, I’ll take it.” It was on a book I had read three times already for pleasure. Most rolled their eyes at my decline. I was ahead of everyone in most of my classes, especially health and science. Dad encouraged me there. I annoyed my friends when I did extra credit even when I didn’t have to. It was all for college. To make sure I got in. To where and for what, I didn’t know. I’d never thought that far ahead.

The rest of the morning went by in a fog, my body a shell yearning for Colton, who was only there in spirit. Loud and strong. Pictures of him, football trophies in the cabinet, his memory saturated everything I looked at. There was even a sign-up sheet for a potluck to raise money to add a memorial for him next to the football field.

At lunch, I thought I kept seeing him out the corner of my eye. It made me jumpy and distracted, not that I had to be attentive to the crowd I sat with. The boys talked about the away game on Friday. The girls whispered about the party Chloe’s new boyfriend was having.

I stared out the window, watching the leaves flitter and glide to the ground, coating the sidewalk in oranges, browns, and reds. I’d never felt so alone. I had considered this group my friends, but without Colton, I realized I was an outsider. I understood what they talked about wasn’t silly and boring to them, but I couldn’t seem to pretend I cared now. Did I ever? If games, school, and cheerleading were important before, why did they so easily become nothing to me?

Since the day I woke up, all I did was question myself and see myself from a different point of view. And so far I didn’t like what I saw. This realization created anger and restlessness. Did I even know who I was? It seemed all I did was play a role. Be the good daughter, student, and girlfriend. I did it to make people happy, to not make waves. But now none of those felt like they fit me.

Losing Colton unraveled me, leaving me broken and stripped down to nothing. But how could you put yourself back together if you didn’t know who you really were in the first place?

 

 

“How was it?” Mom pulled Grandma Nessa’s silver Mercedes out of the school parking lot. Dad drove our only car back and forth from the university. Our town was small and quaint enough that Mom usually biked or rode the bus to work. Having one car with three eligible drivers was becoming a huge issue, especially lately with all my appointments and training. Grandma Nessa let us borrow her car.

“Fine.”

Her mouth pinched. “Can you expand?”

“It was fine.”

“Jaymerson.” She sighed.

“What do you want to hear, Mom? Classes are the same; everything else was horrible.”

“Why was it horrible? Wasn’t it nice being with your friends again?”

I glanced out the window. She wanted the best for me. I realized that, but I sensed if I said anything about how I actually felt, it would upset her. She didn’t know how else to help me get through this. My friends, cheerleading, getting back to a routine was how she thought I would get better. Those things seemed to be making it worse. I hated being like this. I had never been the disgruntled teenager, but the emotions inside were too strong for me to fight.

“Nancy called again. She was hoping you’d help with a potluck.”

“It’s not a simple potluck, Mom. It’s for Colton’s memorial.”

“Yes,” she said sadly, keeping her attention fixed on the road. “It might be nice for you to be a part of it. They want to leave a lasting monument in his honor.”

A strange laugh belted out of me. “Sorry your boyfriend is dead, but here is a bench your ass can sit on instead.”

“Jayme, it’s more than that and you know it.”

“Is it?” I responded. “It’s a plaque. A thing people do so they feel better about themselves.”

“Jaymerson Vanessa, what has gotten into you?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, Mom. It doesn’t bring him back. It only means something to the ones who didn’t really know him.”

Mom gripped the steering wheel, her brows furrowing. She went silent, and I knew she was upset.

The tension in the car built. I didn’t regret what I said, but I didn’t like hurting her. I knew she took off work to pick me up, losing much-needed money. I had heard my parents fighting about money, and asking my grandparents, all of them, for help with the medical bills. Insurance only paid so much. And the time they took off work while I was in a coma put us deeper in debt.

Guilt overrode my true emotions. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I said quietly.

She took a moment before letting out her frustration in a heavy exhale. “I only want the best for you, JayJay. I thought being a part of Colton’s dedication might help you have closure.”

A monument to Colton would not give me any kind of closure, but I let it go. “I know you do. Of course, I’ll help with the potluck.”

We drove into the parking lot of my therapist’s office.

“You’ve been by yourself so much lately. It’s not good for you. You need to be with your friends and be part of things again.” She pressed her mouth together like she wanted to say more.

“What?”

She stirred, licking her lips. “Maybe it would help…if you visited Colton’s grave.”

I still hadn’t visited the place where he was buried. I wasn’t ready to go there. He haunted me enough here. “No,” I replied sharply.

“I thin—”

“No. I can’t. Not yet.” I got out of the car. Helping with Colton’s memorial was one thing, visiting his grave was another. I wasn’t ready for that step yet.

“Okay.” She nodded, watching me get out. She leaned over to peer at me. “While you’re here, I’m going to run to the store and get something for dinner. Your sister wants pasta. Again.” Mom rolled her eyes. My sister was in a pasta-with-butter phase. We had it a lot. “I’ll be here when you get out.”

“Okay, thanks.” I closed the door. Mom hit the automatic window on my side.

“I’ll also call Nancy and say you’re going to help out. Maybe in the next couple of weeks you can start going to practice. At least be there.”

“Sure,” I said, when all I wanted to say was no.

As she drove off, it felt as if I were strangling the girl inside, the one who had been there the whole time but was ignored. The new version of me wanted to rise, but the more I put on the old skin, the more she was silenced.

I was at a crossroads. I could either quash this new me and return to what they wanted me to be, or I could let her come out. The problem was she was angry, strong, fierce, and not looking to pacify people.

I was terrified of her.