Straight To You

four

"If you need anything," Dad starts, gesturing to the gym doors in front of us, "anything at all, I'll be in here, okay?"

I nod. "I know, Dad," I assure him, rolling my hazel eyes teasingly.

Dad offers me a smile, eyes shining brightly. I can tell that he's happy in this moment. I want this moment to last forever simply for that reason. If I could give my dad eternal happiness, I would. Sadly, there's nothing I can do to take the weight of the last few years completely off of his shoulders. All I can do is share the load with him, hoping that's enough to relieve some of his pain.

"All right, kiddo." Dad pats me on the shoulder as he informs me, "After school, head out to the football field, okay?"

"Okay, Dad," I agree with a smile, trying to take after my father and channel whatever happiness is left over inside of me. Finding that I don't come up with any enthusiasm, I'm guessing the amount of happiness I still withhold is a very small amount. "I should get to class. The bell is about to ring."

Dad looks almost hesitant to let me go. It feels like kindergarten all over again, but we've seemed to switch places. Now Dad is the one who wants me to stay, and I am the one ready to spread my wings.

"Go on, kiddo," Dad mutters after what feels like an eternity of silence, his smile a little somber. I don't hesitate to wrap my arms around him, finding comfort in his arms as we embrace one last time before I'm ready to wander off.

"Bye, Dad," With one last wave, I head toward my first period class. I feel a serious case of déjà vu as I roam the hallway alone, remembering every other time I've started over in a new school, trying to find my new classes that I would get used to for maybe four months before heading off to the next town, the next school, with all the people I wouldn't bother to get to know.

This is it, I think to myself for the millionth time, my heart feeling heavy. A fresh start. A new beginning.

I wonder how long this "beginning" will last.

• • •

My first class of the day is English with Mrs. Leblanc. I enter the classroom just as the bell rings, surprised to see that the class is already full for the most part. A few students file in behind me, taking their seats. That's when I remember I don't have a seat yet, and I pause in the doorway.

Here goes.

I make my way up to the desk in the center of the room where Mrs. Leblanc sits, looking down at a piece of paper in front of her. Mrs. Leblanc is a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length blond hair, wide blue eyes, and a kind face.

"Um, hi," I mutter as she looks up from her paper to find me standing in front of her desk. "I don't—"

"You must be Morgan Scott!" Mrs. Leblanc exclaims, cutting me off. Her smile reaches her eyes, and I can feel relief flow through my veins. I guess I hadn't expected this to go so smoothly. "You can take a seat by the window right there."

I glance over at the empty desk Mrs. Leblanc has pointed out to me and give Mrs. Leblanc a smile of thanks before heading in that direction. I take my seat quickly, aware of the eyes that follow my movements. Fortunately, I'm used to being the new kid that the class stares at. Despite being in a new place, none of this experience is too foreign to me. I've done this a million times already.

"So you're new, huh?" the girl in the seat next to me asks, raising an eyebrow as our gazes lock. She's pretty, with pin-straight blond hair and light blue eyes, a few freckles scattered across her fair skin.

"Yeah," I admit, wishing I was invisible. "Is it that obvious?"

The blonde laughs, blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, most students don't need to ask the teacher where they sit, so, yeah."