My stress levels were too high going into the rest of the week. I bitmy nails in English and ended up having to go down to the nurse for a band-aid when they started bleeding. While getting my band-aid I had to dunk out of the site of Val the Friendly Counselor. I didn't need another run in with her. Especially since Leslie hadn't shown up today. I know she hadn't because I had gone down to her homeroom, pretending to have to go to the bathroom in first period. Her seat was empty.
I don't know why I did it but before I went back to class I slipped into the bathroom, dialed the schools number, and called Leslie in sick.
I don't think the front desk lady believed I was mom.
Lunch time I spent by myself again. Hanna was here, I could see her across the room. She was seatedwith a random assortment of other students. I didn't noticed I wasstaring at the back of her blonde head till she turned around andgave me a look. That was my indication to leave the room entirely.
On the way home today I took a detour. I wasn't entirely sure why, but just like earlier when I called Leslie in, I just felt like I had to do it. The bank was quite a trip from school but I managed, even in the heat. When I got there I made sure to text Chris telling him to start a pot of spaghetti and to make sure he got his homework out. All he sent me back was a smiley face and an emoji of spaghetti, so I assumed he was listening.
The teller at the bank was a dusty old lady who looked like she hadn't seen the sun since the 1960's. She smiled gently when I came up to her and asked me what I needed.
"Umm....I just...need a bank card...."
For the next fifteen minutes I got my bank account all set up. I felt stupid not knowing any of the information about my little savings account my dad made me but the old lady helped quicker then I expected someone of her age to be able to. It upset me when I had to order a card. Turns out I could not, in fact, just get one from the bank. I paused when asked about the address I wanted to send the card to. I couldn't send it home. Mom liked to check the mail when she gothome most days. The problem is I never knew when she would be home and it would be my luck that the card would come and mom would see it.
"Umm...." I thought about it for a second. "Can I just have it sent here and pick it up?"
The lady gave me a look.
"I'm getting ready to move and I don't want it to go to the wrong address," I lied. She kept staring at me.
"Well, we normally don't..."
I sighed.
"But I will see what I can do for you."
When I left the bank I felt a little better. The little old lady said she would call me when the card showed up and have it held for me. I don't think she was entirely allowed to do that, but I was glad she was bending the rules for me.
Why did I feel relieved about a bank card?
I pedaled slowly back home, feeling more and more lost.
If I wanted to leave, I should have gone with Leslie. But I didn'twant to leave. I also didn't entirely want to stay. Maybe I was preparing for mom to find out about Leslie leaving. She would explode.
Was that the only thing I was afraid of though?
I was eighteen in a few days.
Eighteen meant I was an adult.
Eighteen...
Thud...thud....thud, thud, thwak.
The house had one light on when I got home. Chris was at the table, playing a handheld game. He glanced at me and nodded.
"Leslie took off," he said it without emotion. "I saw her golast night."
"Yeah."
"She's not coming back, is she?"
"Nope."
Chris sighed loudly. "I'm not gonna be the one to tell mom."
Neither of had to tell her. She didn't come home that night.