Silhouettes

I was home-schooled for my junior year of high school. It was a strange experience, but didn’t differ much from actually going to school other than I wasn’t forced to sit at a cold desk, surrounded by my peers who mostly slept through the lessons, in a school that reeked of Lysol and sweat. My mother took school very seriously, whether it be at an actual school or not. She hired the best home schooling teacher should could find and made sure I was just as serious about learning in a non-school environment. I did just as much, if not more, work being home schooled that I did my entire freshman and sophomore year combined. I took AP Calculus, AP Environmental Science, Advanced Trigonometry, regular English, and American History Honors.

My tutor was an older woman with thinning white hair. Her name was Esmeralda, though she preferred I call her Mrs. E. She wore a button-up blouse with a different colored bow tie every day, and either gray or black trousers, with the most ridiculous bright pink lipstick that always somehow found its way onto two of her front teeth. She always had these small glasses perched on the tip of her nose and she spoke in an almost posh manor. Countless times I found myself spacing off as she talked in her monotone voice, imagining the most ridiculous of scenarios. Of course then she’d slap my dining room table with this ridiculous metal pointer she liked to carry around with her and practically make my heart stop. Mrs. E and I didn’t get along very well, but it was either dealing with her or dealing with my classmates, and out of the two I’d rather choose the first option.

Except now I no longer had the option. My mother was adamant that I’ve had enough time to myself and I was more than ready to return to school. I tried convincing her to let me finish my high school career with Esmeralda but she wouldn’t have any of it. I was to go to school and that was final; no if’s, and’s, or but’s. I knew how much of a commotion my return was going to cause. My disappearance cause such a stir up, my Facebook got flooded with questions of my whereabouts until finally I just deleted all the messages and every post made to my wall. I didn’t want to face anyone – I don’t think I even could if I tried – and ignoring those I once called my friend seemed to be the only option. No one understood where I was coming from.

In the beginning, I had everyone on my side – not that this was a game of win or lose. But people could at least accept the way I was after what had happened. It took a short two months before my attitude became annoying and pathetic to the people I once confided in. It could have something to do with the fact that I nearly ignored everyone, only answering a few very close friends so they could inform everyone else. But it wasn’t long before everyone in my life became aggravated with my lack of communication and in an instant; I became a memory of the past.

No one knew I would be returning today. There was no way anyone could know – who would I have told? I didn’t have anyone to talk to anymore.

I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock buzzing obnoxiously from its place on my bedside table, 7:00AM flashing in bright green digits on the screen. I rolled over and turned it off, sinking back into my bed and curling under the blankets, a quiet sigh slipping out past my lips. My eyes were sore and my entire body ached from the lack of sleep I suffered from last night.

Today was bound to be horrible.

“Gracie, are you awake?” My mother’s voice called from the outside of my bedroom door.

“Yeah,” I answered, rubbing my hands down my face.

“Well, I do hope you’re getting ready. Your breakfast is going to get cold.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

I heard her retreating footsteps fade before I took another deep breath. After laying within the sea of blankets for few more moments, I convinced myself to actually get up. Lords know my mother would come barging in here If I wasn’t downstairs in the next twenty minutes. I eventually got out of bed, though I did so very slowly, the chilly air causing goose bumps to break out over my skin. I quickly showered and got dressed, my movements slow and careless. I scrunched my hair and straightened my bangs, applying some mascara and eyeliner before grabbing my bag, shoving a folder filled with loose leaf paper, two pens and two pencils, a book of poems and my iPod all into it. I took a final look in the mirror of my vanity, heaving a sigh.

This was as good as it was going to get.

I left my room, closing my door behind me, and headed downstairs and into my kitchen, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting throughout the house. When I stepped through the doorway, my mother looked up from where she sat at the island, glasses perched on her nose, papers scattered about in front of her.

“It’s about time you got down here. You’re breakfast got cold so I threw it out,” she said, her tone sharp. I should have expected that, but for some reason I was hoping she’d have even the smallest sliver of sympathy and understanding – that was a joke to even consider.

I didn’t respond to her, instead grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. I stuffed two granola bars and a water bottle into my backpack and slid the straps onto my shoulders.

“You’ll be home by two, right?” She asked, adjusting her papers into a perfect pile.

“Um, yes.”

“Good, well, I’ll be home by eight or so. I have to work late tonight. Your father should be back before me to prepare dinner.” I nodded, peeling the product sticker off my apple and taking a bite, chewing slowly. “Speaking of, your father made a front door key for you. He’s in his office. Get it quick and then go – you don’t want to be late.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” I said, though it was clear her mind had now moved back to the work before her.

I didn’t waste another second, knowing how pointless it would be to try and have an actual conversation with her. I headed downstairs into the den. My father’s office door was open, and when I peered in, he was standing behind the large, chestnut desk, shoving folders into his brief case. I knocked on the wall, gaining his attention. He smiled at me and beckoned me in with a small hand gesture.

“Good morning, Grace,” he smiled.

“Morning dad. Uh, mom said you had a front door key for me?”

“Oh, yes, yes. Where did I put that bloody thing?” He spoke, muttering the last part to himself, sifting through all the papers on his desk. “Ah, here it is.” He lifted up the silver key and handed it to me, a pleasant smile on his face. “Are you ready for school?”

I nodded my head, though in my mind I was screaming the total opposite. “As ready as I’ll ever be I suppose,” I sighed. My father stopped his movements and started at me as I shifted from foot to foot, looking around his office at all the pictures and diplomas hanging in black picture frames along the wall.

“I’m proud of you, Grace.” I looked over at him, my face stonic. “You’ve been through a lot this past year and I know your mother and I…well, we sometimes don’t understand or know how to deal with the way you feel. What you experienced was traumatic; you’ve handled it quite well though.” Oh, if only he knew the truth.

“Yeah, well,” I trailed off, my mind blanking on what else to say. This conversation topic was making me uncomfortable.

“Adam would have been very proud of you too,” my heart dropped at the mention of his name, “He-“

“Dad, I really have to go.” I interrupted him, not liking the direction he was taking this conversation. I quickly stood up from the chair I had sat down in situated in front of his desk, adjusting my backpack straps.

“Oh, well, yes, alright. I’ll see you when I get home, okay?” I nodded my head in affirmation, slowly backing away from his desk.

“See you later, pops,” I smile, though it’s a weak effort, turning around and heading towards the door.

“Grace,” he called. I spun around halfway, my hand on one wall of the doorway. “Good luck.” I smiled at the encouraging look in his eyes, nodding my head. With a final wave, I exited his office, shoving the key he gave me into the side pocket of my backpack.

As I walked past the kitchen, I saw that my mother was now gone and the smell of the breakfast she had made had nearly disappeared, the automatic Febreeze air freshener eliminating the smell. I took another bite of my apple, exiting my house

I walked down the sidewalk at a sluggish pace, other kids walking around me chatting away happily, their excitement for the first day of school making my skin crawl. Groups of kids –twos, threes, even a large huddle of six friends- walked past me, sharing schedules and summer gossip. Watching everyone interact with their friends made me realize that life truly had moved on from last year. It no longer hung heavy in the minds of my peers like it did me. Life was moving forward like an ocean wave onto a sandy beach and I was kept being pulled back to sea by the back currents.

It wasn’t long before I finally made it to school. I arrived at hauntingly familiar large brick building with dirty windows and kids covering the lawn in various cliques. I stood, watching everyone run up to one another, hugging and gushing. I sighed, mentally preparing myself for this day. With a slow stride, I made my way towards the steps, all the while ignoring everyone around me. I pulled open the heavy red doors, a gush of air hitting me. As I took my first step inside the school, the smell of Lysol and pine hit me in the face like a gust of wind.

How appealing.

I instantly felt the hundreds pairs of eyes staring at me as I walked down the hallway, watching me like a specimen under a microscope. I was sure at least half of these kids recognized me – I could point out a few people I remembered from two years ago. I watched as friends turned and whispered into each other's' ears, their eyes watching as I slowly walked down the hallway.

“That’s her.”

“That poor thing.”

“She’s finally back. I was beginning to think she died too.”

“How much do you wanna bet she doesn’t make it through the entire day?”

“Do you think she’s a mute now?”

It was like being in a cliché Lifetime movie. I felt like the new girl, stepping into unfamiliar territory. The ironic part was that, this wasn’t anything new for me. I knew this building like I knew the back of my hand. At one point, I had run these hallways and I was friends with every single person who now just sat back and watch, whispering words of curiosity, as I made my way down the halls, alone.

I quickly shuffled my way through the thick crowd of teenagers, the gazes of everyone burning holes into my head. The multitude of surrounding bodies and faces made me nervous. The amount of people squished in each hallway made my palms sweat; I felt like I was suffocating. I used to be bubbly and had this been exactly two years ago, I’d be running up to everyone, giggling and enjoying life, but things are different now.

I’m different now.



I bit back a laugh as Jack tripped over his untied shoe laces once again, his open backpack carelessly thrown over his shoulder nearly falling off as he stumbled down the hallway.

"Dude, it’s the first day of school. How are you already a mess?" I laughed, nodding to a few guys that I recognized from a party. I couldn’t remember their names and I didn’t really care.

Jack shrugged his lanky shoulders, "I overslept. Someone thought it would be a good idea to throw a ragger the day before school. That might have been one of the stupidest decisions you've ever made."

"I’m sure we can think of a few things to top that," I smirked.

"Good point," Jack agreed. “I’m still so fucking hung over though.”

I just shrugged, patting my best friend on the back as we made our way to the senior Guidance Office. We picked up their schedules and locker numbers before wandering off to find our assigned lockers.

Jack grabbed my schedule from my hands, ripping one of the corners in the process.

“Dude, don’t fuck this up already. Mrs. Higgins hates me enough as it is. If I go ask for a new schedule on the first day of school, she’ll make my senior year a living hell.”

“She just needs to get laid,” Jack shrugged. "We have three classes together, first, third, and sixth together, not counting lunch fifth.” He handed me back my schedule. We found our lockers, the ugly puke green metal boxes more than familiar.

“Boys, we did it. We’re seniors!”

I turned around and saw Rian approaching, a huge smile spread out over his face.

“Don’t get mushy on us Ri. We’re not Kara and aren’t about to get all sentimental and shit.”

“Shut up. Don’t ruin my mood, okay?” He said, shoving my shoulder jokingly. “You guys have any classes together?”

“Three.”

“Those poor teachers,” Rian laughed.

“Eh, it’s not like we’ll show up most of the year anyway.”

“You guys do realize that you have to pass senior year. If we don’t, that means no tour. And I’m not letting you two idiots ruin that for us.”

Jack groaned, closing his locker and leaning his head against the cool metal. "We know, mom, thanks for the lecture."

Rian gave him the middle finger, a laugh slipping past his white, piano teeth.

“Did you guys hear who is back this year?” Kara asked, smiling over at Jack and I before leaning up to place a kiss on Rian’s cheek.

“How would we? It’s the first day of school.”

“How do you you know?” Jack asked.

“Guys, this is Kara we’re talking about,” Rian stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And what does that mean?” Kara questioned, raising an eyebrow. I bit back a laugh as Rian tried to come up with some bullshit defense.

“It means you’re perfect and I love you?” Rian smiled cheekily.

“Mhm,” she hummed.

“Ugh gag me. Would you two keep your lovey-dovey couple shit to yourselves? Some of us don’t want to see our breakfast the second time around.” Kara and Rian rolled their eyes at Jack’s comment, while I just snickered from next to him, running a hand through my hair.

“Anyway, back to topic. Who's back?” Rian asked, wrapping his arms around Kara’s waist.

"Do you mean like a new person or something?" Jack asked.

“She’s not new-new, she’s like old new,” Kara said, like that made any fucking sense.

“What the fuck does that mean Kara?” I asked.

“It means, she’s not totally new. She used to go here and then after that whole Adam thing she disappeared. Apparently, she’s back.”

“Who is she?” I asked.

“Remember Grace Rivera?”

“Mm, can’t say I do.”

“Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body, as nice as they get…”

“Oh, shit. I think I know who you’re talking about. She was in my Math class freshman year. Wasn’t she best friends with Adam?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Kara sighed, a sad look in her eyes.

“Wow, that’s harsh.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I still have no idea who we’re talking about,” I said, completely lost in the conversation.

Kara opened her mouth to speak again when the bell rang, the halls instantly beginning to move as everyone headed to their classrooms.

“Well, I’ll see you guys at lunch. We’re all in fifth period lunch together, right?” Kara asked, grabbing Rian’s hand, backing down the hallway.

Jack, Rian, and I nodded, waving at each other as we went our separate ways, the conversation of Grace Rivera being pushed to the back of my mind.