The cool air brushes against my skin and pours into my soul, and I breathe in the anger. My breath catches in my chest, and a brutal tightness forms within, then releases itself a second later.
The streets are quiet, but every small sound echoes loudly through the shadows of the night, coming back and slapping me across the face. I walk quickly, my arms wrapped around myself, not knowing where I'm going. The control I had over everything is now gone, lost in those echoes, and I have no idea how to get it back.
My phone rang many times earlier, and every time it was either my mom or my dad, but I placed it on silent about ten minutes ago. I don't want to talk to them. I don't want to hear them tell me I'm not my own person, or that I broke a promise, or whatever else they think might trigger my guilt. How can they ask me to go back when the only thing that actually makes me happy is to help them?
Stay calm, Veronica. Everything will be fine.
But what if it's not? What if it breaks into a million jagged pieces, and I can't put everything back together? While I often try not to look at things with a grim perspective - tonight, at this very second, I can't help but let the grimness overtake me. It engulfs my mind and burns into my heart, and the chilly air of the night itself seems to mock me for it.
As the night evolves, and I wander the streets alone, the idea of returning to Apollo becomes more and more real. I hate that place with every fiber of my being. I hate everything it represents, and what it'll mean if I return. All these years of pretending will be for nothing. A wasted stretch of incurable time.
Soon I find myself sitting on a bench in a small park that's two blocks from my house. Thoughts of my mother's illness, of my own failures, of Matty's opinion on my stance on school, of Jay and Will, and everything that has happened in the last few days swim around in my mind, and I start to drift off.
Maybe I can close my eyes for a minute, forget everything, somehow force myself to dream of something better, another time, another life.
~
The sound of a distant car horn wakes me.
I take out my phone and let out a gasp when I see that I've had twenty-three missed calls, and that it's almost three in the morning. My neck and back ache from the hardness of the seat, and my throat is dry with deserted pain.
After I had run out of the house, I had considered the option of continuing to lie to my parents. Of pretending like I'm going to school, but rather spending the days at another full-time job where my father doesn't know the owner, or in the public library writing papers for money. But after waking up in the park, with bad dreams of my mother's pain and my father's unfiltered disappointment, the mere thought of creating yet another elaborate charade fills me with severe anxiety.
I feel like I am two halves of a whole. One half wants to see my parents happy, and that happiness relies on me keeping my promise and returning to school. The other half wants to spend my whole life, now and forever, working and providing for them, and not letting anything sidetrack me.
***
It's Sunday night now, and through extreme spite, I've realized that I have no choice but to return to Apollo. It's a different path, but there is no doubt in my mind that I can maneuver my way around every distraction. It'll take some time adjusting to a new schedule, especially if I'm going to hold up my end of the deal and not downplay my intellect.
"I don't think you'll regret coming back. Once you get going, without pretending like you don't know anything, you'll see it'll be worth it," Will says.
I'm at his house, and we've just finished going over minor details of both his own business of selling CBD oil, and my writing papers. Through our conversations, I've held back tears, though the ache in my throat from crying non-stop the night before still sears my conscience. "I hope you're right. Because I hate Apollo. Every time I set foot there, it's like a part of my soul dies or something."
"Do you really think you're the only one who hates that place? I hate it too. I hate this whole town. Once I graduate, I'm gone."
"What about your grandmother?"
"I'll take her with me. I'm thinking we'll move to Florida or Nevada."
"Have you applied to all the colleges in those states?"
"Yeah, and I'll probably take the first offer that I get. Wish you could come with me."
"Come on, once you're in college you'll meet some new people, new friends, and a year from now you'll forget all about little old me." I've considered leaving this town many times, through many fantasies. It's a nice thought, but I don't think I'll be able to manage my family's expenses anywhere else.
"I'll never forget you, Ronnie, and you better not forget me."
"Right, like I could forget you, Principal's Office buddy." How can I forget the first real friend I've made in the last six years? Though I don't express that truth to him, because there's no need for anyone to know how lonely I've been - a loneliness that only now has revealed itself to me, like a bad memory someone suppresses for many years. I can feel tears building up again, and I turn away.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. So I was thinking of upping the number of papers I write per day, and I want to give you a larger cut."
"Don't change the subject. Tell me what's wrong."
Don't cry. Don't cry. "It's nothing, I swear. Maybe just nerves. . . since I have to go back."
"Come on, it's only a few months. You'll get through it. Things'll turn out fine."
My phone vibrates, and I see that it's a text from Jay. He's sent me quite a few in the last few days, none of which I've replied to. I can't. I hate the fact that I've been going back and forth with him, changing my mind every five seconds like a headless chicken. Though when life keeps throwing you curveballs with every blink of an eye, you have to change direction accordingly. I do owe him an explanation though, a proper one, so he doesn't end up hating me. I'll find him after school one day and tell him everything, and hopefully he'll understand.
"Why is Jay Alderan texting you?"
"What? Why are you reading my texts?" I notice that Will's hovering over my shoulder and glancing down at my text message screen, and I put my phone away quickly.
"I told you, that guy's an asshole. He's gonna screw you over."
"Just because he's an asshole to you doesn't mean he's an asshole to everyone."
The disappointment on Will's face matches my own at his lack of understanding privacy. He moves away and leans against his desk, "You say that now, but watch. One day he's gonna do something really messed up to you, and you'll go back to this moment and wish you'd listened to me."
"Thanks dad. I'll make sure to watch out for the big bad nerd." What might Will think if I tell him that Jay and I kissed? That I may be attracted to him? That thinking of his name makes my face feel hot and my heart beat faster? Though if I can trick everyone into thinking I'm a C-average student, I can certainly make everyone believe that Jay means nothing to me. "Anyway, you don't have to worry. He's upset because, since I dropped out, he won't be getting his gold star from Cranston for tutoring me. So he's been sending me angry texts, all of which I've been ignoring."
"You sure that's all it is?"
"Of course, what else would it be?"
"Okay so, I didn't wanna say anything because I didn't believe it was you, but . . ." He pulls out his phone and shows me the screen. It's a photo - a rather dark, somewhat blurry photo with two people kissing in the distance. Their faces aren't clear, but I know exactly who they are. Will gives me an incredulous look. "One of my buddies sent it to me the morning after the party. This actually is you and Alderan, right?"
I move back and bite my lower lip, knowing that my face must be turning tomato red right now. There goes my plan to trick everyone. "Uhm . . . yes but. . . it's not what it looks like."
"So you're not making out with him?"
"Look, I was drunk. So I kissed him once, so what? Why does it even matter?"
"We're friends, right? Don't friends warn each other about stuff like this?"
This is not a conversation I can handle right now, but I also don't want to get overly angry at Will and push away the only friend I have. Besides, friends probably do warn each other about these situations all the time. Who am I to argue that? I take a deep breath to calm myself down, and when I speak, it's with subdued discontent, "Yes, I guess they do. But I promise you, there's nothing to warn me about. I can take care of myself when it comes to Jay or anyone else. Now, can we please talk about something else?"