The Bright Side of Darkness

Two

"I'll walk you to and from your classes with Jackson when I can, but if you don't want me to, I won't push it."

I want to refuse, to laugh it off and tell him I'll be okay, but I know I can't. It was hard enough to get to this class, and I don't want to think about finding classes across the school. So, I sigh and nod before taking a few steps forward to my first class.

"See you in eighty-two minutes!" Travis calls as I cross the line of no return.

Eighty-two minutes of literal hell.

"Well, hello, Mr. Pérez. How nice of you to join us. I trust you found your way here okay?" Mr. Golde's voice comes from the front of the room, and I figure he's staring at me through his bespectacled eyes. I wonder if he dyed his hair over the summer like he planned to.

"As well as I could, sir," I replied, feeling my way to the front corner of the room. I hope my nonchalant way of running my fingers over the desks masks my fear of not finding mine. Their surfaces are smooth, and I keep to the edges in case anyone is sitting in the front row. My normal desk, as I suspected, was empty, and I'm grateful I didn't make a fool of myself again.

What I wanted to say was, "Hell, no, I'm blind. Of course, I didn't find my way here okay." But that would only get me a pink slip on the first day of school. Plus, it would put me on the bad side of one of the few teachers I respect. And quite possibly earn my father's anger for speaking to his friend like that.

The whole time Mr. Golde teaches, I can hear as he writes equations on the board, reading them aloud and solving them. My heart aches at the memory of the days I stared out the window instead of paying attention. I can't see what I'm supposed to be learning now, and I have to rely on my ears to know what is happening. That is more torture than I can wish on my worst enemy.

Even now, I focus my remaining senses on the window beside me for the entirety of the class. Rather than crying like I want, I inhale the scent of the air outside to center myself. The faint stench of cow manure and diesel fumes drifts past.

Somehow, I still manage to understand what Mr. Golde is talking about, up until the tinny ringing of the bell calls for the end of class. I fumble around to grab my books, swearing when one slips out of my hand and crashes to the ground. I shove it into my backpack and am almost through the door when Mr. Golde calls, "Mateo."

I cringe, stopping to turn around. Each of my muscles tense, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. "Yes?"

"You forgot your notebook." Oh. Of course, I did. That's another thing. When you're blind, you tend to 'forget' things.When I go to retrieve it, he holds on to it. His tone is soft as he speaks again, "If you ever fall behind, don't be afraid to ask for help. I did my best today to ensure you could hear and understand everything that's going on, but I know there will be times when I'll forget." He lets go of the book and steps away.

"Keep in mind that paraprofessionals and a special-ed tutoring program are available to you as well. If you want to enroll in it. I know it's gonna be difficult to turn in your homework without help, so I encourage looking into the program. I'll be giving the information to your father, as well. However, if your grades drop, it will become mandatory, understand?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you." I add my notebook to my backpack. I bite my lip in thought as I turn and feel my way through the doorway. My issue is adding an extra burden on Mr. Golde, and I feel bad for making him do more work. I don't want to burden someone else, either, but if I get too far behind, I'll have no other choice.

Just like he told me he would be, Travis is waiting outside the classroom. He's talking with someone else, but his tone is short and clipped. It's unlikely that it's Jackson he's arguing with, but I'm not sure who else it might be.