sound better and better.
As soon as I reached the back door and walked into the kitchen, Mom's voice greeted me.
"So how did your first day go? The principal called."
All thoughts of homeschooling instantly left my brain, and I was frozen into place. A million different scenarios ran through my mind while that statement sank in. What did the principal call-about? Am I in trouble for storming out of the assembly? Or for taking a nap in study hall? How should I play this out?
I tested the waters slowly, shrugging nonchalantly. "It was fine. Principal Meeker held an assembly and mentioned Kristen…"
Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Mom was working on some paperwork at the table, and I sighed with relief. That was always a good sign. It meant she was thinking about something more important than me.
"That's what he called about." She didn't even look over at me, but shuffled some papers around. "He was letting all the parents know about the extra grief counselors available at the high school. I hope you'll set a good example for the other students, Abigail."
I had no idea what she meant by that. "Sure, Mom." Whatever. "I'm going upstairs to start on homework now. Call me when dinner's ready?"
"Okay," she replied distractedly, and I took the opportunity to make a quick escape up to my room.
Throwing my book bag onto the bed, I shut the door behind me and paced around the room, feeling caged-in and restless. I didn't know what to do with myself. I should be with Kristen right now. Walking through the cemetery or hanging out at the bridge. Talking about the first day back at school and who had worn what. Sharing notes while commiserating about how unfair it was for teachers to assign homework the first night… any of those things.
This didn't feel right. I wasn't used to being so alone.
Desperate to hear her voice, to fool myself into thinking that everything was normal again, I picked up my phone and called her number. I was greeted by a cold automated the-number-you-have-dialed-is-no-longer-in-service message. I couldn't even hear her recorded voice anymore.
Collapsing onto my bed, I was bombarded with images from the day. It was confusing, and overwhelming, and I couldn't hold back my tears anymore.
I could still hear Principal Meeker announcing Kristen's death in front of the whole school. I could see the unused locker next to mine, where she should have been keeping her things. To call her phone and not have her answer it…
Sliding down to the floor, I curled myself up into a little ball and rocked back and forth; trying to will away the hurt and emptiness, to shove it back down to that dark place inside so I wouldn't feel it anymore. A vise grip had grabbed hold of my heart and was squeezing all the life right out of me.
I couldn't handle this type of pain. It was too big. Too raw. Too much.
When Mom called me down for dinner, I told her that I didn't feel well and was going to bed early. It wasn't a total lie, since my chest hurt and I felt sick to my stomach. But I had no intention of going to bed. Instead I finished up all of my homework and started working on Kristen's perfume. It was a long and exhausting night, and I didn't sleep at all.
The next day I had a hard time concentrating on my classes at school and ended up falling asleep in study hall again.
But I knew it didn't matter. No one cared what I did anyway.
* * *
On Friday afternoon I hauled ass after the last bell rang and practically ran from the classroom, but slowed down once I left the building. On one hand I was extremely happy that I would have a two-day break from that miserable soul-sucking hellhole of a place called school, but on the other hand it wasn't like I was going to have all kinds of fun being alone at home.
I plodded toward the house but at the last minute changed direction. Maybe I didn't have to spend all of my time at home.
Knocking twice when I came to the Maxwells' door, I stood awkwardly on their
As soon as I reached the back door and walked into the kitchen, Mom's voice greeted me.
"So how did your first day go? The principal called."
All thoughts of homeschooling instantly left my brain, and I was frozen into place. A million different scenarios ran through my mind while that statement sank in. What did the principal call-about? Am I in trouble for storming out of the assembly? Or for taking a nap in study hall? How should I play this out?
I tested the waters slowly, shrugging nonchalantly. "It was fine. Principal Meeker held an assembly and mentioned Kristen…"
Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Mom was working on some paperwork at the table, and I sighed with relief. That was always a good sign. It meant she was thinking about something more important than me.
"That's what he called about." She didn't even look over at me, but shuffled some papers around. "He was letting all the parents know about the extra grief counselors available at the high school. I hope you'll set a good example for the other students, Abigail."
I had no idea what she meant by that. "Sure, Mom." Whatever. "I'm going upstairs to start on homework now. Call me when dinner's ready?"
"Okay," she replied distractedly, and I took the opportunity to make a quick escape up to my room.
Throwing my book bag onto the bed, I shut the door behind me and paced around the room, feeling caged-in and restless. I didn't know what to do with myself. I should be with Kristen right now. Walking through the cemetery or hanging out at the bridge. Talking about the first day back at school and who had worn what. Sharing notes while commiserating about how unfair it was for teachers to assign homework the first night… any of those things.
This didn't feel right. I wasn't used to being so alone.
Desperate to hear her voice, to fool myself into thinking that everything was normal again, I picked up my phone and called her number. I was greeted by a cold automated the-number-you-have-dialed-is-no-longer-in-service message. I couldn't even hear her recorded voice anymore.
Collapsing onto my bed, I was bombarded with images from the day. It was confusing, and overwhelming, and I couldn't hold back my tears anymore.
I could still hear Principal Meeker announcing Kristen's death in front of the whole school. I could see the unused locker next to mine, where she should have been keeping her things. To call her phone and not have her answer it…
Sliding down to the floor, I curled myself up into a little ball and rocked back and forth; trying to will away the hurt and emptiness, to shove it back down to that dark place inside so I wouldn't feel it anymore. A vise grip had grabbed hold of my heart and was squeezing all the life right out of me.
I couldn't handle this type of pain. It was too big. Too raw. Too much.
When Mom called me down for dinner, I told her that I didn't feel well and was going to bed early. It wasn't a total lie, since my chest hurt and I felt sick to my stomach. But I had no intention of going to bed. Instead I finished up all of my homework and started working on Kristen's perfume. It was a long and exhausting night, and I didn't sleep at all.
The next day I had a hard time concentrating on my classes at school and ended up falling asleep in study hall again.
But I knew it didn't matter. No one cared what I did anyway.
* * *
On Friday afternoon I hauled ass after the last bell rang and practically ran from the classroom, but slowed down once I left the building. On one hand I was extremely happy that I would have a two-day break from that miserable soul-sucking hellhole of a place called school, but on the other hand it wasn't like I was going to have all kinds of fun being alone at home.
I plodded toward the house but at the last minute changed direction. Maybe I didn't have to spend all of my time at home.
Knocking twice when I came to the Maxwells' door, I stood awkwardly on their
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