Tuesday, October 15, 2019
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Going to school was the second hardest thing I ever had to do. My dad offered to call the school and let me take another day off, but there was no point. I'd have to go back eventually. No point in prolonging the inevitable.
Once I finally dragged myself out of bed, I pulled on a pair of dark pants and a heavy black sweatshirt with sleeves long enough to cover up to my knuckles. I pulled my hood up and let my hair hang in front of my eyes. I was mad that most of my face was still visible, but the staff wasn't about to let me into the school wearing a ski mask.
Cori followed me outside and climbed into the passenger seat of the truck. She was pretty quiet for most of the drive, which was unlike her. I could feel her eyes on me, and I made an effort not to look over at her. I knew what she was thinking, and I didn't want to talk about it.
I pulled up to the front entrance of her middle school, and she climbed out silently.
"Have a good day," I said, something I'd normally never say.
Cori and I cared about each other, she meant the world to me, and I was very protective of her, but we'd never admit it. We had a goofy relationship and we picked on each other a lot, but we weren't usually very sentimental with each other.
"Thanks, Isaac," she said quietly before turning and running off toward a group of kids heading up the steps to the entrance.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I pulled it out to find a text from Kelly.
coming to school today??
I messaged back:
See you there.
I sat in my truck for too long, trying to muster up the courage to walk through the front doors of my high school. Once I entered, there was no turning back. I had to face the people I'd grown up with, looking the way I was.
I'd thought I was a freak before, when I was one of the few unaffected. Now, I might've been the biggest freak of all.
Once I saw that I only had five minutes left to get to class, I ditched my truck and headed inside. I pulled my hood up to hopefully deflect unwanted attention, but I knew I couldn't go to class like that.
I kept my head down in the halls, and I managed to make it to my locker without anyone noticing me. I grabbed my first-period AP English textbook, then headed quickly to class.
"No hoods up in school," said the low voice of Mr. Gibbons, my strict third-period Chemistry teacher.
I cringed. I considered pretending I hadn't heard him and continue walking, but I knew he'd chase me down. I pulled my hood off and picked up my pace.
I kept my head down. My heart felt like it was in my throat. All I could hear was my own beating heart pounding away in my chest. I was beyond scared.
I reminded myself that everyone went through this same thing. Kelly had once gone through this, and his condition was just as bad as mine. If he could do this, so could I.
"Oh my god. Look at Finch."
I could tell it was meant to be a whisper, but I couldn't help looking up at the girl who said it. She was from my Swedish class. Then a guy I knew from Physics piped up behind me too.
"What the hell is on his skin?"
"Is that Isaac Finch?"
"It's gotta be the Sickness."
I stood before the door to my first period, wishing I'd never come. Dad had been right. I needed more time.
I couldn't turn back now. I had to just face it. Rip it off like a bandaid.
I stepped into class, thankful it was only halfway full and those already at their desks were too busy in conversation to pay attention to me. All except one girl who looked up from whatever book she was reading to catch a sight of my new appearance.
Holland's cat eyes locked with mine, and I could see the horror clear across her face. She sat in the first seat of the row my own desk was in, so I ducked past her and made my way to the back of the class.
The rest of the room went quiet as I made my way to my seat. I swallowed hard. I could feel their eyes on me like cold fingers wrung around my neck.
"Ha, couldn't avoid it forever," a boy snickered at me, breaking the painful silence.
A few other kids laughed at this. Holland was still staring. I sank into my chair, wishing the Sickness would have done me a favor and made me invisible.
Kelly finally came racing into class, and his eyes immediately locked with mine. His red eyes went wide. I cringed.
He was at my side in six quick strides, parking himself at the desk in front of mine. He swiveled in his chair to get a good look at me. "Dude," was the only word he could manage.
"I know," I said. "It's bad."
"You have words. On your skin."
"I'm aware."
"What does it all mean? 'Fuck Brad' and 'I'm so lonely / That's okay I shaved my head / And I'm not sad'. That doesn't even make sense."
"The second thing is lyrics. It's a line from a Nirvana song."
Kelly only blinked, still reading the words across my face and neck.
"I have a theory," I said then, catching his attention. "I think these are all my thoughts. Or things that I've heard or maybe said."
"And it's all over your body?" he asked. I nodded. "Dude, that's brutal. Having your thoughts on your skin for everyone to read. Damn. You have to admit it's a little poetic though."
I gave him a look. Nothing about this was a good thing. The concert was in just a few weeks, and there was no way I could get up on stage in front of hundreds of people looking this way.
"So, um..." Kelly hesitated. This was unlike him. He never failed to speak what was on his mind. "I just... I feel you, man. I've been there. If you need to talk, I'm here."
I chuckled without humor. "Why would I need to talk? You can just read whatever I'm thinking. Ugh." I buried my face in my hands, swallowing down the marble in my throat. "I'm sorry. Thanks, man." The mood still felt too heavy, so to lighten it a little I added, "What do you say about band practice after school?"
He raised a triumphant fist. "Hell yes! I've been working on this new riff I came up with last week. I need you to tell me how it sounds."
"Gladly," I said, believing that maybe getting back into the groove of things would help me feel less like my life was spiraling out of control.
"You know," he started, giving me another quick look-over, "I don't think it looks all that bad. It's pretty badass, actually."
"Doesn't feel like it. I'll never be able to get a decent job looking this way."
"Dude, we have a great gig coming up in a few weeks. Tickets sold out in only two days. If we take our music a little more seriously, we can really get somewhere."
He slammed a fist down on my desk suddenly, grabbing my attention. "And you totally look like a rockstar! I like to think I do too. We're different than the rest. Being in the music industry, that's not a bad thing. It speaks to people."
I opened my mouth to reply with an argument but was cut short when Mrs. Klaus cleared her throat. She glared across the class with her daily once-over, but her eyes stopped on me.
"A new student?" the old bat asked, wiping her cheaters with her sweater before setting them back on the bridge of her pointy nose in an effort to see clearer.
A couple students snickered. Others stared at me, awestruck. I shrank deeper into my seat.
"Would you like to introduce yourself?" Mrs. Klaus continued.
I bent forward and slammed my forehead into my desk, praying to God to transport me anywhere but here. When I looked up again, I was still stuck in this miserable place. "No, Mrs. Klaus. We're already acquainted."
"Isaac Finch?!" she burst out, then caught herself. "Goodness. Erm, uh—good morning class! I hope you've all finished the reading I assigned last night. Take out your copy of Hamlet and let's go over—"
Kelly twisted around in the seat before me to look back at me with pity. I just shook my head.
A few desks past him, in the seat at the front of the class, Holland was looking at me with her cat eyes. I met her gaze, expecting fear in her expression. She surprised me with a faint smile.
My stomach fluttered in a way it hadn't since we were just kids holding hands on the playground.