❝SAD BIRDS WILL STILL SING, THE FLOWERS WILL STILL BLOOM, AND THE SUN WILL STILL RISE WITHOUT YOU❞
When an accident left Grayson Reyes in critical condition, he woke up unable to remember the brown-eyed beauty who stayed by his side for three month...
MONDAY MORNING ROLLS BY, AND THERE'S AN UNSPOKEN DISTANCE BETWEEN GRAYSON AND ME. He's avoiding me, and I'm doing the same. Although it doesn't bother me as expected, I'm irked that he's spending the time with Trixie. Yesterday after my injury, I limped myself to the nearest bus station and headed to the hospital. And then, I proceeded to limp myself home. Safe to say, my leg's on fire.
With the temporary cast, I stare at it distastefully, angsty that I won't be able to practice for up three weeks. "What happened to your foot?" Tianna questions, swinging her arms around my books to carry them for me.
"Ballet. I landed wrong," I reply, "Minor injury, but I should be good as new in a few weeks."
"Aren't you lucky? You get to sit out for PE," she groans, head dropping down in disappointment. "By the way, first game of the season, you going?"
Grayson is the one who usually takes me. He's the only reason why I learned all the little and important details about football. The only reason why I tolerate all the screaming, sociable teenagers is for him, even when I'm as anti-social as anti-social gets. "Maybe. I haven't decided yet." Truthfully, social interactions terrify me, and I rather linger in my own room with a book in hand than go out partying. Partying, in my opinion, is for the people running away from something. They want to escape the chains of society and do so by drinking and abusing drugs. Sometimes, it makes me wonder if Grayson's running away from something too.
I find myself searching through the crowds of students for Grayson, but to no avail do I catch sight of him. Trixie is by her locker, surrounded the way she normally is, like a queen adored by her loyal subjects. Her icy gaze sweeps the hallways, looming until they land on me. She's smiling, but there's a hidden intensity of hostility in it. They see right through me, and I feel self-conscious. Her mere presence is suffocating.
Hurriedly, I slam my locker shut, pretending I don't notice her eyes following my every movement. Tugging Tianna along, she frowns, assessing me, "Are you okay? You don't seem like yourself today."
"I'm fine," the lie slips off my tongue naturally. I have this urge to tell her that I'm on the verge of shattering. I'm tired of everything. My mother's anniversary is approaching closer each day, and there's a heavy burden on my heart. My father lost his job, and he thinks he's a terrible parent. He's gone back to alcohol and drugs again. And Grayson? He's fucking breaking my heart without even knowing it, so yeah, I'm fine. But there's always a barrier that keeps me from saying it. I've shown this persona the way others think of me and perceive me. I have to remain dainty and perfect. My fear of looking weak stops me, and instead, I add, "It's just one of those days. I'm a bit bummed about the ankle."
A small part of me wishes that she'll see through my pathetic facade and tell me that it's okay. But she never does. Lightly punching my arm, she tosses a grin, "Don't worry. We've gotten closer, so you've got me. I'll entertain you while your ankle heals," her reassurance eases my anxiety momentarily. "That's why we'll be going to the first game of the season in two weeks." And just like that, my anxiety is back, full-blast.
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