Nobody Knows: JayDee's Story

Ch.3

*Jessie*

It was just after my 6th period class when Anna pulled me back in the bathroom. She was already pulling the makeup out of her backpack. “Is it bad?” I ask, because like I said I really hated looking at myself.

She sighed as she put the case on the sink counter. “Just look.” when I did you could see a faint outline of the bruise stick out underneath the foundation. The top layer I assumed came off with sweat. It was mid-September and it usually felt like summer around this time.

I looked at her in the mirror, “I’m sorry you keep having to do this for me.”

Seeming like she was frustrated, “Just turn around so we can get to class before we're too late. Also,” as I turned and she started doing the makeup. “Stop saying sorry and fix the situation.” She looked up at me and smiled, “Okay?”

I grinned, “Ya.”

As I was heading to band, and yes I was late, but if I explained the situation to Mr. Tompkins he would understand.

When I finally got there he was sitting at his desk still and the other students were setting up their instruments.

As I came in I said, “I'm sorry I'm late.”

He looked at me with confusion, “You know I don't count you late until we start.” He paused. Then, he got up and closed the door to his office. He sat back down, and you could visually see him breathe in and out before he continued. I took my backpack and Ibz off my back and leaned them against  the wall next the chair by his desk and sat down.

“Is this the same thing we talked about last year with your father.” I nodded and looked at my feet. He tapped the desk and softly said, “Please look at me, Jess.” I didn't want to because I knew he would have a disappointed look on his face and I was right. “Jessie, you are eighteen. You can leave.”

“I know, but I only have twelve more months to hold out.”

He held up his hand. Then, he said, “You know that the relationship you have with your father is not healthy, right?” I nodded, again. “Does anyone else know your situation.”

Yes, my friend, Anna.”

“Has her or her parents asked you stay with them?”

“Yeah, her mother, but I'm not ready.”

He rubbed the stubble on his chin. He always seemed to have a five o'clock shadow. “I didn't think you were.” He stood up to head to the door with his hand on on it about to turn. “Oh, hey, did you figure out your dilemma earlier today.”

I stood up, “Nah, I haven't had the chance to.”

He finally opened the door, “If you do, come tell me, okay?”

I smiled, “Yeah, I will.” It acted as if he seemed to already know, but I wasn't going to ask what he thought just in case he was wrong.

As he walked out he said, “Don't forget to grab Ooma.” You could here him grin as he said it.

“Yep.” That's what I called his acoustic guitar. It means grandma. I had no clue what language, but I had called it that before I knew the meaning. It was an older guitar. You could see it and feel it in the wood. 

With Ooma in hand, because the music we played for concerts needed the acoustic sound and I was the only student here who knew how to play a guitar, I walked back in the band room to do what I do best.

*****

It was the end of the school day I walked out of the building ready to head to the public bus stop, so no one would  figure out where I was heading. I had 4 hours to get to the fair.