The weekend passed in a cloud of tension. I had more tiffs with my parents than I had in my entire life. The moment I recognized this new fierce girl inside, she would not sit in the background and stay quiet.

My sister had a strong personality. Stubborn and spirited. I liked that she was gutsy and determined. A pain sometimes, but overall I loved her more for it. But I started to watch my family with her, how they responded to her, laughing and enjoying her fierce personality. Yet the moment I said something bold, they stared at me like I had grown four heads and gave each other pointed looks, secretly communicating their displeasure or fear at my actions.

Frustration at home spread to school, taking over through the week. I sat in class twitchy and impatient, staring out the window. It all seemed stupid and pointless. My knees bobbed, waiting to escape the room, to get far away from here. By the next Friday I wanted to implode. The only thing saving me was seeing Stevie during the week. Those were the few times I laughed or felt relaxed. Hunter had missed the week’s session, and I was curious what happened to him but didn’t ask.

Coach Nancy and Savannah had both bombarded me that morning with potluck ideas. I said yes. To what? I had no idea. I didn’t care.

“Ms. Holloway,” Mr. Kisner, the short, stout, uptight math teacher called to me. Today his deep yellow sweater made his round belly look like a jar of mustard. “I would like your attention up here.”

I sat back in my seat, staring at the board. He continued with his lesson. I was ahead in this class too. Everything he talked about I already knew. It made me want to knock my head against my desk, hoping the painfulness of the class would lessen.

I wasn’t naturally smart; I worked hard. But what was I working so hard for? I hadn’t even thought about colleges except the ones my parents wanted me to apply to or where Colton might be going.

Jesus, Jayme, who does that?

What an idiot I had been. Planning to attend a college because of a boy? I hadn’t even cared what school. It’s pathetic.

I waggled my head in disgust at myself. I was honest with Colton the night I told him of my dreams to travel the world, visiting museums, and absorbing life in different places. Paris. London. Florence. Bruges. All sounded amazing. I had read in one of the college pamphlets they had a school abroad program. The thought excited and terrified me. That level of freedom? To not have my parents anywhere near me, to be able to do anything I wanted at any time in another country? I could hear my Grandma Penny whispering in my ear to jump. Live my life.

If Colton were still alive, I would have pushed the thought away. I would have followed him to college. Not venturing out of his world. He was no longer here. My tether was broken, and it scared me to death. But for the first time, the fear was a little exhilarating.

The rain over the weekend left the leaves on the ground wet and soggy, and I stared at them, creating abstract art in the deteriorating foliage.

“Ms. Holloway!” Kisner’s nasal voice bounced off the glass into my face. I snapped forward. “I will not ask you again.”

“Good,” I mumbled and turned my head out the window again.

“Excuse me?” Two red splotches formed on his cheeks.

I forced my gaze to stay on him but didn’t respond.

“Well, Ms. Holloway, if you are sure you will pass this exam, which is worth half your grade, then please…” He swept his hand toward the door, his tone snide. “Be my guest. Go find something that holds your attention more. I hate to bore you. I’m here to teach the students who want to learn.”

My feet itched to move, to get up and leave, to call his bluff, but outright disrespecting a teacher was a line I never thought I’d cross. Even Mr. Kisner. However, lately I wanted to do a lot of things I never imagined I would.

I stayed in my seat.

A smug smile quivered at the edges of his mouth. “Now as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” the round man arrogantly stated.

I wanted to punch him.

When the bell rang for lunch, I blended in with everyone. I could sense Kisner wanted to speak with me, but I didn’t trust myself to be left alone with him. I might say or do something detrimental.

It wasn’t going to be long before someone hit my trigger.

 

 

“Oh my god, did you hear Aubrey hooked up with a sophomore at the party Saturday?” Chloe leaned over the table with a conspiratorial whisper. She glanced over her shoulder at the girl in question, who was sitting at the next table. “She’s a senior! I mean, yes, he’s on the football team, but he’s like, a kid. A benchwarmer. It’s so gross.”

“Seriously gross.” Savannah let her whisper ride through the air.

I looked over at Aubrey. Her eyes darted to our table, then looked down, her cheeks turning red. She knew she was being talked about. I had never liked to gossip, even when I was dating Colton, tuning it out, ignoring their chatter. Sitting here, watching tears fill the girl’s eyes, I realized my silence was just as bad. Letting them be mean, because I was too scared to stand up and say something.

Now their cruelty was like a hot poker. I growled in my throat, shaking my head, shoving my tray away.

“You okay?” Savannah raised her eyebrows.

“Not hungry. Suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.” And I don’t want to be here.

“Well, please start eating soon because you’re making me feel fat.” She laughed, circling my wrist with her fingers. “Seriously, hospital food might be the best diet!”

Frenzied anger ballooned my chest, and I bolted up, ignoring the pinching sting in my muscles.

“Yeah, Savannah,” my voice vibrating with derision. “I also recommend having your boyfriend die, be in a coma for a month, and go through the most horrendous pain to walk again. It does wonders for your figure.”

The table went silent, everyone stared at me.

“Geez, Jayme. I was only teasing.” Savannah’s brows snapped together. “What crawled up your ass today?”

“Teasing. Right.” I whirled around and left the cafeteria, needing air. My limp pulled focus and boiled more heat under my skin. I pushed through the doors and down the hall, breaking through the back exit toward the football field, gulping for air.

Why did I react like that? Ever since coming out of the coma, I almost believed I had been put in the wrong body. The girl on the outside didn’t fit with the girl on the inside. I was lost, belonging nowhere, and to nothing.

The muscles in my legs twitched, and I strolled across the tennis courts, stretching them out. Lately, I preferred to be by myself than in overcrowded cafeteria. Especially with people I was supposed to consider friends.

Reaching the field, I took in a deep breath, my gaze catching on a figure alone in the stands. My lungs and feet stopped. I recognized him instantly. Hunter stretched out at the top of the bleachers as he leaned back onto the railing. His crutches lay next to him.

He’s back at school? It had to be his first day back. We had fifth period together. I would have definitely noticed his return.

He was alone, which seemed odd. He usually hung around his two friends, Jones and Megan, who still attended this school. Most of his friends didn’t. All of them were the anti-school types. The “tattoo, lip rings, metal music, smoking in their cars during lunch, doing the minimal work to pass” kind. Never a group I had cause to associate with.

I took a step forward. The reasons to turn around and walk away completely outweighed the ones to keep walking, but I didn’t stop. It took me longer than normal and my breath was short, determination keeping me going. I awkwardly climbed the steps and strolled down the aisle where he was.

Hunter kept his head forward, not acknowledging my presence. I sat down on the bench, cold and slightly damp, leaving a gap between us.

Some of the football players were on the field, showing off for a few girls clustered on the edge of the field, giggling and pretending not to notice the boys checking them out.

We both stayed quiet for a while. He finally let out an exasperated sigh. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with the cheerleaders and popular crowd? Not hanging around the bad guy on the bleachers.”

“Yeah, I should.” I rubbed my hands over my jeans, warming my muscles.

“Then why are you here?”

“I told you.” I slipped him a glance. “I. Don’t. Know.” His baseball cap blocked his eyes. A light scruff covered his face, framing his strong chin and defining his full lower lip. I looked away.

We both pretended to watch the action on the field, but I was overly aware of his presence beside me. It was suffocating. And strangely comforting.

“Maybe I don’t belong in that crowd anymore.” I kept my head forward, going back to his first question. “I don’t belong anywhere. I thought you might be the one person here who would understand.”

He stayed quiet.

“Ever since the accident nothing is the same, and I can’t pretend everything is fine, like they want me to. Friends, teachers, counselors, my parents… They had two months longer to mourn. They are ready to move on.” Bitterness darted in and out of my words. “I’m not.”

He didn’t move an inch, but I felt him, more palpable than the air surrounding me.

“And some stupid memorial is not going to help.”

He snorted as if he concurred.

“I see things differently now. What I thought was fun, is now meaningless to me. I can see everyone struggling to understand me, thinking it’s simply a phase, hoping I will be over it soon. Then we can go back to how it used to be.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. I couldn’t even talk to my parents about this. As much as they loved me, I knew they wanted the same thing: to have me back to normal, before the accident.

Yet, I didn’t have a normal anymore.

“I miss him. Every day.” My fingers twisted around each other, aware of the intensity of Hunter’s gaze on me. “I miss being comfortable in my bubble. Blindly happy. Content with my life. But it’s not who I am anymore, and I can’t pretend to be. So, can I sit here, not pretending to be okay for a while?”

Hunter’s gaze held mine for a moment then turned back on the field. “Yeah.”

I leaned back against the railing, both of us content not to talk. He tossed a bag of chips down between us. I tugged out a chip, munching quietly.

“They asked me to be part of the memorial. I told them to fuck off.” He grabbed a chip. “My parents love the idea of course. Like it’s some consolation prize.”

“People don’t know what else to do.”

“Then I wish they would do nothing. Leave me alone.”

Wow. It was exactly what I had thought. “I agree.” We both went quiet again, staring at the action below.

“Being here is torture,” he said softly. “He’s everywhere.”

I looked over at Hunter, his blue eyes peering out from under the hat, locking on mine.

A common thread existed between us. An awareness no one else in the world had. He’d lost a brother, I’d lost a boyfriend, but we both lost a best friend. We lost the life we knew. An innocence to life only death robbed you of.

The bell signaled the end of lunch. I huffed, pulling my jacket in tighter around me.

“Better get going, Jayme. You don’t want to be late.”

“What about you?” This was the class we shared.

He stared over the now empty field. “I’m good here.”

“Have you made it to any class today?”

“No.”

I had never cut school, but the idea suddenly was appealing.

“Then why don’t you go home?”

He tipped his head against the railing.

“Because, sadly, this place is still better than being home.”

“It must be hard to be there. To have so many reminders of him.”

“Yeah, it is. But that’s not the only reason.” His mouth twisted as he chucked the bag of chips toward a garbage can below. It hit the lid and fell outside the can, curling his lip up higher. “Let’s say it’s not a warm, comfortable place to be.”

I’d been to their house enough and heard Colton complain about his parents. Mr. Harris was extremely strict with the boys and seemed constantly at war with Hunter. One time I heard Mitch screaming at Hunter about what a failure and fuck-up he was, wishing he was more like Colton. Julia sat there, letting the abusive words hammer down on her son without lifting her eyes from her manicure. I went home feeling disgusted. No matter if Hunter was a screw-up or not, it was awful to hear a parent talk to his son that way.

Mr. Harris was also tough on Colton, but in a different way. It was always about football, pushing Colton to be better. Mr. and Mrs. Harris came to every game, and the one time I saw Mitch hug Colton was when our team won the state championship.

“Let’s say I’m not the son they wished lived.”

I had no response. Time ticked and I knew the second bell would be sounding soon.

“Go, Jaymerson. You don’t want to get in trouble.” He glanced at me with scorn before he turned back to the field.

 

I pressed my lips together. I kind of did. A huge part of me wanted to know what it was like to actually rebel, to follow my desire rather than ignore it.

Instead I got up and did what I was supposed to.

 

 

I watched him through the safety of glass. He continued to sit on the bleachers all of fifth period, staring off. The history lesson ceased to hold my attention. The window facing the field was too much temptation.

“Jayme?” Mrs. Ambose softly called to me.

Here we go again. I angled my head back to her. I liked her enough, and yet history was the only class I didn’t excel in. I enjoyed the subject, but sweet as she was, her teaching style was dry and dull, never venturing off the set curriculum. No more, no less.

My body was listless and heavy after lunch and her soft-spoken voice had a sedative effect. History should be exciting, almost conveyed like a drama.

“I’m sorry, but could I please have your attention up here?” I hadn’t realized till then how timid and unsure she was.

I nodded, yet it wasn’t long till her voice numbed my brain again, returning my gaze to the field. Hunter was still and silent, but he demanded my attention.

He pulled a phone from his pocket, putting it to his ear. Who is he talking to? What is he saying? What did I really know about Hunter Harris? He shoved the phone back in his pocket, taking off his hat, rubbing his head, then shoving it back on.

“Jaymerson?”

Oh, for crying out loud. Why can’t anyone just let me daydream?

“Do you have your assignment?” Mrs. Ambose held a bunch of papers in her hand, students passing them forward.

“What?” I glanced around.

“Assignment?”

“No.”

“You don’t have it?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

I was one of her hardest-working students: always turned in assignments on time, passed every test, did extra credit.

“No. I don’t have it.” I stirred in my seat.

“What about yesterday’s?”

“Not that one either.”

Mrs. Ambose’s mouth pinched. She adjusted her glasses. “Come speak to me after class.”

No. I did not need this today. I stood up, reaching for my bag.

“Jaymerson, what are you doing?”

“Sorry. I’m not feeling well. I’m going to the nurse.” I headed for the door.

“You can’t simply leave. You need to ask for a pass.”

I walked through the door, ignoring her calls for me to come back. I couldn’t stop. Didn’t they see? I was tumbling into a void with no way of stopping.