"School was pretty decent, actually," I admitted to my mom, as I threw my backpack onto the couch. "I met some really nice people." And some not so nice people...
"Oh yeah?" my mom asked excitedly. "Like who? Tell me all about them!" She gently nudged me down onto the couch, then followed suit.
"Well, there was a girl I had three classes with. Her name is Brianca. She's really pretty and smart. I think she said she has a boyfriend. I forget his name. And then, I met a boy during lunch. It's kind of funny..."
I relayed my entire day for my mom, who sat perfectly still, smiling for the duration of my story. I told her about everything, even the cafeteria food and the teacher who spits uncontrollably when he talks. The only thing I didn't mention was the boy on the way to school. I saw him once during school, and immediately changed my direction, walking away from this brooding and ill-tempered kid. Later, I brought him up nonchalantly during lunch to my new friends; Brianca, Will and Patrice. When they failed to think of who I was describing, I searched for him in the cafeteria, hoping to point him out inconspicuously. There he was, sitting alone in the corner of the room. Patrice audibly gasped when she followed the direction of my finger.
"Oh my god, he's back. And you talked to him? Wait, you yelled at him?!" she said wildly, her eyes growing to the size of tomatoes.
"Wow, that takes guts, Jill," Will said, clearly impressed.
"That's Blaine Whyte. He hasn't been in school for the past, like, two months?" Brianca directed to her two friends, who nodded in confirmation. "He's reaaaaally fucked up now," she added before taking a sip of her milk.
"Why? What happened?" I was curious about this supposedly "fucked up" boy.
"Well...his girlfriend died in January I think. In a car accident. He may as well be dead right now too," whispered Patrice. She took a quick glance at Blaine at his isolated table. "I actually feel bad for him," she added pityingly.
"Don't, Patrice," said Will, shaking his head. "Sure, it's definitely tragic, but that doesn't mean he had to get into the drug scene and drop-out of school. Well, I guess he didn't drop-out now..."
"Wait, so he does drugs now? He didn't before?" I asked, with a slight frown. This situation was beginning to sound a bit too familiar to me.
"Oh my god, he was the nicest kid before! Actually, alllll the girls wanted him. But, I guess that's what he does now," gushed Patrice.
So Blaine Whyte is depressed. He's doing drugs. He may be causing himself harm. I can't endure something like that again. I shuddered as Lucy's face appeared in front of me. Thankfully, the lunch bell rang and I was able to run away from the memory.
That night, while I was slaving away on homework, the house phone rang. My mom and I exchanged surprised looks, before she went to answer.
"Hello? Yes, this is MaryBeth Black. Oh, hi! Isn't that just the nicest thing! No, we don't have any plans. That sounds absolutely fantastic. Okay, I'll whip up some appetizers to bring over. Perfect! Thanks for the invitation, Sharon. See you soon!"
My mom hung up the phone eagerly and turned to me, beaming. "We just got a dinner invitation from the neighbors! She said she has a son, so I bet you two will get along well. Why don't you go change into something clean and fresh, while I make some salad. We're going to leave here in about ten."
I loved to see my mother happy about something, so I didn't complain about the idea. I ran upstairs and threw on a purple sweater and some boyfriend jeans. I decided that maybe a little make-up wouldn't hurt, so I hurriedly brushed on the mascara. Leaving my wavy long hair down, I slipped on my Sperry's and rushed back down to the kitchen.
