H2O | ✔

Chapter Nineteen : Exhausted

Xander

9 weeks after Mesi woke up...

I cracked my knuckles, trying to wake up enough to pay attention. At the moment, my teacher was talking about some stupid calculus thing that I would probably end up teaching myself anyway since he was such a shit teacher, but I was much more concerned with daydreaming. My thoughts floated from food and ferris wheels at fairs to what it would feel like to be the last leaf on a tree. I decided on lonely.

I watched the snowflakes falling silently, gently, on the other side of the glass. The glass was the only thing that separated me from outside; from the chilly air and wet ground and biting winds, and the freedom. I felt so cooped up in that stuffy classroom, like I would burst if I was made to sit there any longer. I wanted to escape, to break free from my mind for a while. I imagined jumping out the window to the snow banks below and running away forever. I'm not sure if I didn't do it because I didn't want to leave, or because I just didn't have the guts.

No. I didn't do it because I held out hope that someone, somewhere, needed me still. That if I ceased to exist, someone would care, someone would feel that loss, someone would notice the hole in the shape of me that took my place in the world. It was all I could do—hope.

I tapped my pen against my fingers, bringing myself back down to earth. I glanced at the notebook under my arm, where I was meant to be taking notes. Sighing, I jotted down a couple sentences my teacher spoke verbatim. It's not like it would make much of a difference, but at least I would get participation points. You know, those stupid things that give teachers the freedom to drop your grade if you're shy or sad or tired or just have a lot on your mind.

I sighed as the bell rang, too out of it to be thankful for the end of the school day. Grabbing my books off the desk in front of me and shoving them in my backpack, I got up to leave.

"Xander?" Ms. Snyder looked up at me as I passed her desk near the front of the classroom, causing me to stop.

"Yeah?" I said cautiously.

She smiled at me, like, really smiled. Then again, she was the only teacher in the whole school that ever showed any affection towards me. "I heard you got accepted to the CSAIL program at MIT this summer." It sounded like a question when we both knew it wasn't.

I was a bit surprised. I'd heard back from the admissions a while ago, and it was just reaching her? How did she even know?

"Yeah." I shrugged.

Ms. Snyder looked at me like she was waiting for me to say something. "Well? Are you going? It's an amazing opportunity and it'll look wonderful on college applications."

I knew that. I knew this was a one-in-a-million chance. I knew that it would pave the way to acceptance letters from my share of universities. I knew it was big. But I still didn't know if I could go. There was just so much more in my life, what with Mesi to take care of, and my mom who would die without me, and the whole mystery of the note that somehow had to do with Sam. It was all so complicated and confusing that I wasn't sure I could afford to go away for the summer.

"I don't know," I mumbled, scared to tell my math teacher I might not take a place in a math program.

She didn't say anything back, and when I finally looked up to meet her eyes, they were filled with concern. That was never a good thing—concern. It lead to questions, and questions led to either answers or lies, and the lies would get answers soon enough, and answers led to action and whatever that action was never resulted in anything good.

Ms. Snyder pursed her lips. "Is everything alright at home, Xander? You know, you can tell me anything."

I shot of anger flared in my chest and I struggled to contain it. They all said that. They all said it, but they never meant it. If I told anyone what I was really thinking, they would probably send me to the doctor and jack me up on medication. They tried right after Sam died, when I had the biggest breakdown of my life and punched a kid.