The Nerd Who Rules The School

Chapter 43

"Do you want me to go in with you?" His voice no longer sounded like hail piecing the air, but still felt like a chilly, cold-to-bone breeze.

The ride was silent but not uncomfortable, it wasn't boring either because my never-ending thoughts never stopped plaguing me; alternating from Asher to Maya.

"No, it's fine. I need to do this on my own," I tried to mask my fear and I could feel my wounds reopening again, but I told myself I wouldn't fall apart before I even got in.

"Okay, I understand," he looked at me as if he wanted to say more; but words failed him so he settled for an encouraging smile, but it never quite reached his eyes.

Something big had happened and it's affecting him more than he is letting on. I wished I had been more attentive, more caring, and not so wrapped up in my own little bubble. But right now, Maya was my priority. So I stored these information and questions in the back of my mind and making a mental note of it.

I gave him a grateful smile, but it probably wasn't much better than his. I got out and faced Maya's house.

I had never really looked at the house. It was just like any other typical house; two stories high, with a porch, a very light blue coated the exterior of the house and the same with the walls inside.

I walked up the typical, caramel-brown concrete porch like how I had done it million times before, ringing the gold doorbell, even though I knew a spare key was hidden just a few pots of plants away. I tried not to think that this would be the last time I would ring this doorbell; but my finger still lingered on it.

Not long after, the sight of Drizel greeted me. He was still in his funeral's cloths, the bags under his eyes were much more prominent. He looked ten years older than his age, with his slumped shoulders and tired eyes that seemed like it had watched life passed a million times.

He tried for a smile but it was just his lips curving up. I didn't even bother trying. "You can get anything you want from her room, I'm sure she wouldn't mind you keeping anything. I'm going to sell them anyways so." He didn't need to show me the way, I knew it as well as my own house.

"Take as long as you need," and he disappeared into the living room. I stood in the hallway, taking the house in one last time; noting all the cracks and fading paints; the pictures that made this home; the way the furnitures were placed. I took a deep breath, both to calm myself down and take in the smell one last time. The unique smell that every house has but you just couldn't describe it, yet you could tell.

I took my time walking up the stairs, and without having to even think about it, I turned right and didn't stop until I was at the end of the hallways, in front of a creamy white door.

Memories kept on pushing my barriers, trying to break through the walls I put up to protect myself. The familiar, nauseating feeling once again ate up my stomach. Holding my breath, I turned the brown doorknob and walked into her room.

I exhaled. Even though it had been a month, her smell still lingered in the room; the mixture of her orange shampoo and her laundry detergent smell. I could almost believe that she was just in her walk in closet, choosing her outfit.

I let myself believed that for a second, and I could finally take in her room. Her bed was unmade, which was not surprising. She never made them, saying that "what's the point of making your bed when you are going to sleep in it tonight anyways?"

Her desk was tidy, just like the rest of her room. Nothing was out of place, it was like how it always had been. Only one thing stood out, the lack of her presence. She would always be here when I was here. I could pretend that I was just waiting for her to come back, which rarely happened; but I didn't want to lie to myself, it wouldn't help.

It was getting too much, I wanted to leave, the lack of her presence was too suffocating. The wound was bleeding, I was once again drowning, sinking slowly. I hated this feeling, but I couldn't stop it from overwhelming me. I tried to find an anchor, so I clung onto the thought of her last gift for me.

I observed the room too quickly, scanning for the gift. I didn't want to touch anything but knowing her, it was going to be in the second drawer of her desk.

Taking long, determined strikes towards her desk, I tried not to let my fingers lingered when I opened the drawer. Just like I thought, it was in there. A black velvet box, with a letter stuck on top of it, with my name in black, bold marker, written by her. Just like all the other letters she had given me over the past years.

I quickly grabbed it and left her room, trying to out run the nostalgia feeling, the merciless claws of painful memories. I shouted a goodbye to Drizel and left before I could hear his reply.

I opened the car door and said breathlessly, "Please drive me home."

He didn't say anything and we were once again out of the driveway. I couldn't help but look back, the house becoming smaller and smaller, until it disappeared completely; but it would forever be imprinted in my mind.

I didn't even noticed how hard I was gripping the box and letter until we arrived to my house and I had to let go of one hand to open the door.

"Thank you so much for everything." I knew these words were over used a lot but I hope he could hear my sincerity behind them.

He did, he gave me a tired smile, one that still hadn't reached his eyes, "I will pick you up on Monday?"

I nodded, and in a split-second decision, I leaned over and pecked his cheek. I got off before I could see his reactions and tried not to run towards my house.