Her mother told her a lot of things. Like how her actions may have long-term consequences, honesty is the best policy, or, perhaps, how she should wait for at least 30 minutes after a snack before getting back into the water. Most of her incessant tangents seemed random; Mae never truly understood what they meant. She always assumed it was because her mom knew all in the world. But now, as she sat in her seat one final time as an elementary schooler, pondering the height and enormity of the desks at the high school she would soon be attending. This reflection dug up somewhere in her distant memory an oft-repeated quote her mom said quite often:
Enjoy your time in school, because it goes by fast. In the blink of an eye, you'll be an adult.
Being frank for a moment, she was acutely conscious of her fleeting youth. Therefore, she always brushed it off with some uninterested reply. She didn't understand how time could go "fast" when everyone is experiencing their life at the same pace. However, as she patiently waited for the bell to set them free, she solemnly swore that yesterday was her first day of 8th grade. She couldn't believe today was her last. High school was right around the corner for her to take head-on. Her mother was right, as usual.
Every few minutes, in the rush of anticipated boredom, she side-glanced at the clock. It was doing the same thing every time she looked: ticking tauntingly. With a sigh, she turned and surveyed the room before her. Students that she spent all these years with filled plastic seats; they shared a room together for the final time. Everyone talked amongst themselves about the vacation ahead of them, and the plans they had in store. Others signed yearbooks or had their phones tucked under the desk where the teacher couldn't see them. However, she was sure the teacher could care less, for it was his last day as well. Other than the small worksheet present on her desk, and the annual classroom cleaning, they had nothing to do.
"Would you like to sign my yearbook, Mae?" A gentle voice rippled through her trance.
Mae curiously raised her eyes and spotted Wendy-the infamous girl who had gone through an emo phase half-way through the school year. In the midst of her imagination, she didn't see her come. She looked down at Mae with an inquisitive stare, her pastel blue ringlets curled above her exposed freckled shoulders. Unlike what a few believed, she thought the odd color suited her, and momentarily wondered if she would look good in a different hue.
"Oh, sure," Mae pulled herself up in the chair. She dropped her hands from the table and quietly watched Wendy set the book down on the polished desk. She played with the pink marker that was given to her in thought.
As she uncapped it, the sweet smell of ink-filled her senses with ineffable delight. She glanced at Wendy. "What high school are you going to?" she inquired with curiosity. The pen squealed against the glossy paper as she wrote the common, yet respectful farewell that was normally given in this kind of situation:
I hope you have a nice summer! :)
❥ Mae Johnson
"Some stupid private school in Florida," The other female replied with a distinct whine that reminded Mae of a disc grinder. The blue-haired girl exuded a contumacious air.
"Sounds fancy."
"It sounds awful." She corrected and crossed her arms loosely over her chest. A frown curved along with the shape of her round cheeks. "My parents think it's the best thing for me, but I don't know anybody in Florida."
Mae set the pen down. She, after giving it some consideration, didn't know Wendy much beyond her name and meaningless scandal; she was known as the cringey emo chick around the school. "You're beautiful and sweet. I'm sure it won't be a problem for you."
She seemed surprised by such a compliment, but uncertainty swelled her eyes. "Thank you..." Wendy murmured sheepishly and played with the ends of her shirt.
"Not a problem," Mae smiled kindly and picked up the pen again. The last thing she wanted was to make this conversation awkward. "If you ever feel alone down there, you can text me. I'm happy to talk, no matter the time," she proposed, only to add her number to the little message she wrote previously. She was sure the number wouldn't even get the chance at a second glance, but it didn't hurt to try.
"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you again," Wendy nodded, in the process retrieving her yearbook. "Have a good summer."
"You too. Good luck at that school!" she called. Only an impassive wave was returned.
The final bell of the day howled throughout the school, and in the wake of its calling, released a mob of destruction. Children ranging from kindergarten to 8th grade poured out of the suffocating classroom as if their life solely depended on it. The clutter of voices bounced off hallways, cheerful laughs and joyous screams etched the brains of those who made an attempt to listen. Mae, however, was the last in her class to pack her things. The thought of continuously bumping into others just to be the first on the bus didn't appease her, nor was it worth the hassle. Especially when the bus left at the same time.
"Aren't too eager to leave, are we?" Mr. Jefferson, her English teacher, piped up through the silence that gathered in the dust of everyone's footsteps. He stared at her through the thin rims of his glasses. Heavy stress lines curved under his small eyes that had watched her grow from such a naive kid to someone a little more knowledgeable.
Mae pulled her backpack over her shoulders and said, with a shrug, "I guess not." His bushy eyebrow arched in curiosity. She went on, "I don't wanna grow up."
"Ah, nobody wants too after they realize what its worth." He waved dismissively. "But you have too, everyone does at some point." He added with an unfamiliar tone of motivation that was never distributed during his classes.
"Unfortunately."
"Now now," he chided. Now that was the imperative tone she recognized. "You can't linger in your little fantasy land for much longer, young lady. You may get away with spacing out in my class, but you can't do that in high school. No no, not at all." he shook his head and turned towards his computer. He eyed it oddly as if he suddenly realized he had things to do before he could rightfully relax. A flash of disappointment crossed his expression.
"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Mr. Jefferson. Maybe I'll see you around," she gave a soft chuckle and headed to the door.
He nodded lightheartedly. "Good luck, kiddo!"
As the sun of an afternoon day delicately kissed her skin, Mae Johnson briefly remembered that teachers are, in fact, human. She, among several other students, often seemed to forget that. Whether or not she liked that particular teacher didn't fracture their beloved humanity whatsoever; they were still living, breathing beings with feelings and a life they held dear no matter how many times she misplaced it for something else. Nevertheless, some still managed to strike a few nerves. If there was ever a sparkling award for Worst Teacher of The Year, Mr. Jefferson, her sixth-period English instructor, would surely be the one to win such a repugnant honor. With his horridly laconic ways of teaching and lack of patience with prepubescent teenagers, it wasn't much of a surprise that most students loathed (and considerably failed) his rather strict class. He stretched time like chewy taffy-a distasteful candy, she would point out-and that specific class seemed to go on forever. To have him as the last teacher of the day was almost sickening. Luckily, however, she was walking across the rough blacktop for the final time as a student. She wouldn't have to sit through his excessively long lectures any longer.
Hands buried deep inside the pockets of her pants, her eyes remained glued to the cracked pavement beneath her feet. Glee bubbled up inside her chest as she boarded the noisy bus that was already crowded with ecstatic children. The familiar shudder of the bus doors closing confirmed that her innocent childhood years were now behind her. She stared out the dirty window that was painted with the fingerprints of her fellow peers. Images drawn in sharpie coated the glass surface, leaving little to the imagination. She would catch a little drawing of a flower, or perhaps a depiction of what was once a dick now scribbled over with something more appropriate. Mae had no real reason to criticize because even if the drawings hadn't been there, there wouldn't have been much to look at. Oddly enough, the incongruous drawing looked symmetrical to the buildings. What resided on the other side of the window was the school she known for all her life. It was a bore to realize that there was nothing new to look at, or possibly enjoy. The white buildings still unpleasantly shined under the bright rays of sunlight. At least with the new school, there would be new sights to delve into.
Her contemplative silence was suddenly broken by a familiar presence. Fale Owens, her best friend, heavily plopped down in the seat next to her, looking rightfully excited.
"We're free!" Fale squealed, dramatically throwing her hands in the air with a wide smile. Her unruly, fuscous curls framed her piercing jade eyes as she traced the school they unwillingly spent hours jailed inside. The stark white shirt she wore hugged her slim figure. The short, black pleated skirt, accompanied by ankle leather-gothic boots, complemented her lightly-tanned skin. Mae almost felt underdressed in her baggy black shirt and faded jean pants.
"Not really..." She stated as she turned to look at her friend. "We still have high school to deal with."
"We're free from this hellhole and that's all that matters," Fale said happily. She eagerly drummed her delicate fingers on the vacant seat in front of them. It returned a hollow tune, disturbing the flow of the music that flared above them.
"Yeah," Mae uttered and frowned to herself. The mere idea of high school remained an uncharted world for her; fresh new teachers, a whole new campus, and not to mention the plethora of unfamiliar faces. The last time she checked, it wasn't as bitterly pleasant as the movies tell it to be. "Do you think high school is going to be rough?" She quietly asked.
The bus sputtered to life, causing a surge of vibration to spread across her body. Teachers and staff alike stood safely along the curve of the vehicle's entrance. With genuine smiles, they waved to the graduated students one last time. Her hazel eyes traveled among the recognizable teachers that had helped her throughout the years-she couldn't help but notice Mr. Jefferson wasn't among these adults. Many of the others around her thrust their arms outside the window with a shout of farewell. She wouldn't be surprised if some of the hellions residing in the back struck a middle finger for all to see. Mae silently watched them disappear around the corner. Fale, however, began to aimlessly dig through her backpack. Hushed whispers fell from her lips: Trash...Nope...Useless....Trash.
"Mr. Jefferson said it would be." She finally replied and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from the depths of her backpack. She unfolded it with an odd glint in her eyes as if she was expecting it to be something important. However, when she spotted the bolded text of homework, she carelessly shoved it back from where it came.
"He says a lot of things." Mae snorted and tightly wrapped her arms around her bag.
Fale snickered, "Ain't that the truth. That dude just doesn't know when to shut his trap."
Mae agreed with the hope that he was wrong about high school, "Besides, he hasn't been in high school in ages. Things change."
"They do. But it'll be fun, you'll see! Think about it, Mae. We'll go to rockin' parties, go to movies, and spend all our money..." She paused, and after a moment, playfully nudged Mae's side. A mischievous smirk tugged on the edges of her lips. "Not to mention you can sit under the stars with your future boooyfriend," teased Fale. Mae felt a wave of heat rush to her cheeks. She bolted upright and straightened her back against the seat.
"As if my parents would let me stay out that long. Let alone with a boy." She scoffed and crossed her arms with a notable pout. The other responded with a simple shrug, which easily ended the conversation. However, that didn't stop the burning sensation to prickle at her cheeks. The thought of a handsome young man snuggled up beside her was difficult to process. Like any other teenage girl, she has had her fair share of crushes big and small. None of them were granted the 'boyfriend' label.
A brief, yet comfortable, silence washed over the two females as the bus raced past trees and buildings. Her forehead peacefully rested on the cool glass as she witnessed the world fly by with bewitching celerity. She paid no heed to the meaningless drawings on the window, the bleak color faded into the corners of her vision. The music that played remained a blotted sound in the background of her thoughts-neither of the teenagers sung along to the songs that played, for the same incessant melody had been rerun for the thousandth time that month alone. The rough road resulted in the occasional blur of her vision, which further caused her to smash her forehead against the window. While she muttered an inaudible string of whines, she held her skull and turned in her seat. She nuzzled her aching head against her friend's shoulder, who gave her nothing more than a mere chuckle for comfort.
"Your mum knows you guys are coming over for supper tomorrow, right?" Fale piped up, her words effortlessly weaved their way through her thoughts.
Mae hummed, "I told her. She said no on the whole 'me spending the night' plan we had though."
A pout formed on her lips. "That sucks."
"It's not that big of a deal. We have all summer to enjoy ourselves," She inquired. She was well aware that they were going to be inseparable throughout the next few months. In no way was she complaining. "We can always spend next week binge watching Stranger Things." Her friend didn't seem satisfied with her alternative suggestion, but, luckily, she didn't voice her complaints. She couldn't control her mother's decision, after all.
Suddenly, Fale pushed her backpack aside. "Promise me something." She sang, causing Mae to glance up in confusion.
"Depends on the promise," She gave a taunting smile and easily ignored the look she had gotten. "The last promise we made got us into some serious trouble." This wasn't a lie, unfortunately. The previous agreement they had made resulted in her swearing that she would cover for Fale, who had ditched class in order to attend a book signing. Needless to say, their parents-who were not given a part in her plan-were highly upset when the school called and questioned her absence. From there, she spent a lot of her time trapped within the chambers of her room after receiving an earful from both of their mothers.
"No no, it's harmless. I swear."
Mae narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Summer was now in process, and she could only imagine what kind of monstrous ideas brewed in the others' head. "What is it then?"
Fale turned to face her and extended her pinkie. "Mae Johnson, promise me we'll stay together throughout high school, no matter what may happen."
Mae giggled, "What's this? Isn't this a bit stereotypical?"
"Just do it."
Without a second thought, she raised her own pinkie. She curled her finger around the others, and spoke clearly while her eyes locked onto her best friend, "I promise to stay by your side, no matter what may happen."
They shook on it, and in the process created a small oath that neither dared to break.
The bus slowed to a steady stop in front of a small peach-tinted house. Purple and white irises swayed from the gentle breeze that crossed their path. Lavender hydrangeas neatly lined along the redwood porch that elegantly glowed under the sun's eyes'. Stone figures that resembled owls, bears, and beautiful angels decorated the polished wood. Caramel flower pots full of dirt accompanied chubby glass gnomes with pointy colored hats. When the bus doors opened with a stagger, Mae slowly rose from her seat. She draped her backpack over her shoulders and waited for Fale to step out into the aisle.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Mae announced with a slight wave.
"See ya then."
The comforting touch of warmth splattered across her thin frame as she jumped off the bus and onto the pavement. Without a single glance back, she darted across her driveway. Pebbles crunched under her feet. She leaped over the steps to the foyer; the sweet smell of roses filled her senses with the thought of home. She hurried inside, thoughtlessly stepping past faded rocking chairs that were missing a few pegs, and candles in cupreous holders that haven't tasted fire. Cool air greeted her cheeks as she entered the sanctuary of her home. The familiar vanilla aroma replaced the smell from outside. She closed the door with her foot, and in the process, slipped off her heavy backpack.
Her mother stepped out of the kitchen. Her slender fingers held a small mug saturated in color. Her big chestnut eyes soaked in Mae's presence before she smiled endearingly, "Hey, sweetheart!" She chirped, "How was your last day of school?"
"Fun, I guess," Mae answered flatly. She dropped her bag onto the old couch and brushed loose strands of dark hair behind her ear.
"At least it's your last day." Her mother replied. She nodded in agreement.
"How does it feel to be a freshman?" Another deeper voice boomed from the kitchen.
With distaste, the girl yanked a thick packet of homework from her belongings. She pivoted on her heels, only to stride boldly into the room where her parents resided. The soles of her shoes squeaked against the clean tiled floor. With all eyes on her, she lifted the cover from the trash can. The foul odor fumed across her skin. Her nose wrinkled in repulsion. Dramatically, Mae threw the documents into the bucket and turned to face her father, who was looming over the stove, "Amazing!" She exclaimed with a cheer.
"You deserve it, girl. Now do the same thing in high school." He gave a lighthearted chuckle, glancing at the food he was preparing. He scratched his stubble and flicked his untamed black hair from the reigns of his face. Those pale metallic eyes of his settled comfortably on her. "You look just like your mother," he whispered lovingly. Mae pressed her lips together in some form of a flustered smile. He, then, turned to look at his loyal wife. His expression softened as if he had found a diamond within a field of weeds. "She's going to be a heartbreaker honey, I can see it now."
Her mother uttered a harmless snicker. "I don't doubt it." She took a sip from the cup, playfully raising her eyebrows in her daughters' direction. "She'll have boys drooling all over her."
Her father slapped his fist dramatically into his palm. "You tell 'em boys I'm not afraid to go to jail a second time." Mae rolled her eyes and quickly scurried from the room the moment the two adults began to kiss.
"Get a nice outfit for tomorrow's dinner!" An abrupt order came from the kitchen.
As she neared her room, Mae couldn't help but furrow her eyebrows. On the white door, for all to see, hung a paper with her name solely written on it. Each individual letter was haphazardly scrawled on the canvas in a different color crayon. Little faces or patterns were printed throughout it. It was difficult for her to look at, to say the least. Therefore, when she opened the door, she took the time to tear it down. She tossed the now wrinkled paper aside and stood in the doorway of her kingdom. The walls were painted a peaceful azure; posters, drawings, pictures, and shelves posted across the area in an unthoughtful, messy fashion. Trash littered across the carpet canvas. Drawers from the hickory dresser lay open, where clothes overflowed and tumbled over onto the floor. A large circular mirror-glass stained with old lipstick and small water spots-was perched above it, reflecting the image of her standing in the center of the room. The chunkiness of her clothing hung stiffly from her shoulders, her frame losing itself within the pool of black. Her pants halted abruptly before her ankles, presenting her mismatched socks. She turned her body and examined herself from all angles, posing in ways that would otherwise prove herself, at least, acceptably pretty.
Jeez... I look homeless! She hissed as she ran her fingers over her cheekbones that dotted with noticeable blackheads. At that moment, she witnessed the life leave her narrow eyes, even if she was not dead. Her lips pursed, but she could no longer stare.
She quickly stalked off, fleeing the truthful reflection. Instead, she climbed in the comfort of her bed. To ease her mind, she began to take down photographs and banners that didn't age well. She plucked stuffed animals from their rightful spot and hid them in boxes. She was a high schooler now; she couldn't have these absurdly childish things on display. No boy-or girl for that matter-would act accordingly if they found a teddy bear perfectly snuggled on her bed, or, perhaps, a Hello Kitty poster just beyond her threshold. She thoroughly bared her walls and, in its place, she assembled a series of photos she had gathered of her and Fale together. After she snagged some scissors from the nightstand beside the bed, she began to shape the plethora of images to form a large heart along the wall. After she had finished, she eagerly stepped back and observed her creation. It wasn't the perfect shape, a bit wide, but she felt satisfied with the outcome. After examining each memorable picture, memories unfolded beyond the event that was captured. Some even date back to the time they shared diapers. However, the closer she looked, the more she began to notice a pattern. Fale always wore a kind, comfortable grin or modeled in some silly way. Mae, although, regularly stood woodenly beside her friend. If they didn't have their arms around each other, she had her fists in her pockets. An awkward smile plastered on her lips. Throughout the years, she looked to be nothing more than a stranger next to her own best friend.
A sigh erupted from her, "Time for a change."