All The Lies We Tell

Chapter 5: Hidden Things

"How was school?" Mom asked.

I finished chewing the baked chicken she had made and nodded. "Good."

"Tell me about it."

I picked up my fork and began stabbing at the mash potatoes. "My classes are good and my teachers are nice, I guess."

"Have you made any friends?" She asked.

She tried her best to come off nonchalant but I could hear the eagerness in her tone.

I took a slip of water and nodded. "Yeah."

"That's good."

There was no way I was going to tell her that the kids at St. Mary's treated me like fine China. Good to look at and better kept away. The only person I could think of was Layla and I doubted she thought of me as one.

"How's the clinic?"

"It's good work. But, the pay isn't exactly sufficient. I was meaning to tell you, there was a spot that opened up at hospital downtown."

My eyes widened as they met hers. "And?"

"I applied. My interview is on Friday."

"Mom that's great!"

She was too bashful to celebrate with me but her smile was enough.

"Now, I haven't gotten the job so don't go breaking out the champagne. But, I want to you know if I do get it, it means longer shifts. You'll be home alone a lot more."

I shrugged. "That's fine."

"I just worry because you've been through so much and despite the progress, I don't know if it's the right time to take this job."

"Mama, it's fine. I'm fine. If you get it, you take it."

She nodded. "Alright chile. Don't make me regret this."

I smiled. "I won't. I promise."

***

The class I was looking forward to the most was English lit. As I sat down in Mr. Williams class, I felt a swell of excitement. Written on the board was my favourite Shakespearean play. Othello. Once the class settled, Mr. Williams passed out the novel. I noticed Nate sitting three rows to the left and one up from me. His nose was already buried in a book but it was placed against the table so I couldn't see the cover.

"We're going to dive right in," Mr. Williams announced. "Each class, we will read through an act. Then the next class there will be a quiz on the aforementioned act, so I suggest you pay attention. I hope you've brushed up on your early modern English, because I will be choosing a few of you to read each class--and don't you worry, each of you will get a turn."

I wasn't all that eager to have to read in front of the class but as I opened the play and skimmed through the first few lines, I felt a sense of pride. I had read through the tragedy of Othello a few months after the accident. To be transported into a world that was like nothing of my own and yet bore stark similarities was enough to get me through the worst of days. And even though Othello and I shared nothing more than skin tone, I sympathized with his character for the simple fact that he placed his trust in the hands of those he trusted most. And they turned around, deceived him, broke him and left him with the remnants. His story was certainly tragic, but not because most of the characters ended up dead but rather because they died under false pretences. And no one knew truth until it was too late.

Mr. Williams chose four students to read through the act. I listened as they stumbled through the words, their disconnect to the material evident. One boy, Ricky, didn't even bother to try. He read each word with about a full minute of silence between. I could tell Mr. Williams was getting impatient but he refrained from giving Ricky shit.

As my eyes drifted from the page and through the class, they landed on Nate. He was leaning back in his chair, his legs splayed out in front of him. He looked comfortable. Like he didn't have a single care in the world. I felt a bout of envy make its way through my stomach and slink its way up my throat. If only I could be as carefree as him, even for a day.

Immediately, I chided myself because I didn't have the time or heart for wishful thinking. But even still, there was no harm in hoping right?

***

I waited for Parker for what felt like an eternity. In reality it wasn't more than an hour and half. Despite my multitude of texts and calls, he was nowhere to be found. As the librarian flashed the lights for final call, I felt moronic. How had I been fooled into thinking Parker cared enough about his schoolwork to show up for our assignment? He was after all, a teenage boy. It was my fault for thinking he could possibly be anything more.

I picked up my bag and headed out the library. By now, the halls were vacant giving them a sort of eerie quality. I walked briskly to my locker to switch my textbooks and then headed to the back entrance of the school.

I had begun to park my bike there because there was less traffic and I could avoid the parking lot. Turns out, people drive as manically here as they do back in Toronto. I descended to the first floor and pushed open the door. Across the pavement, the bike rack stood empty save for my green mass of metal. I walked over and pulled out my key. I unlocked the bike and pulled it out before placing my bag in the basket. It was only then that I realized I had accidentally forgotten to pull out my notebook for Canadian History. It meant I wouldn't have my notes and I certainly wouldn't be ready for tomorrows class.

I dismounted and leaned my bike against its kickstand. Then I walked back to the door and pulled. Sure enough, it was locked. I let loose a string of curses that would have had my mother washing my mouth out with soap and then walked back to my bike. I guess I was going to have to figure something out for tomorrow.

I sat down once more and was getting ready to pedal off when something caught my eye. I leaned forward and watched as a guy stepped out of the building across the field. I could barely make him out but as he neared it wasn't hard to tell who it was. Only seconds later, another boy emerged from the greenhouse. Anger radiated through me as I watched them. They walked briskly, leaving a large gap between each other. After crossing the field they headed towards the empty parking lot. They neared his car and stopped. I was too far to hear what they were saying but it didn't take a genius to infer. As he waved and gestured, his knit brows and strained stance indicated his anger, like he was doing everything in his power to hold back. The longer I watched, the more I worried he'd throw a punch. But then suddenly, he stopped and my eyes widened as they closed the distance between one another. I watched on as they embraced and then kissed. Only for a fraction of a second, but it wasn't undeniable. That wasn't the type of kiss shared between friends. I blinked hard, just to make sure I was seeing correctly.

Emilio got into his car and drove off, leaving Parker in a cloud of exhaust fumes. I watched as he stuffed his hands into his pocket and swept his head around. It was too late. There was nowhere for me to go. I froze, unsure what to do. Because despite the distance, I knew he could see me as clearly as I could see him. Before he could react, I pushed off and peddled faster than I ever have, never stealing a glance back.