Shield Me From the Storms

Before I could escape the school, Sophia grabbed my hand and dragged me to the hall outside the auditorium. There was a paper on the wall with DRAMA CLUB written in large, fancy writing and a long list of names. I lift an eyebrow at her and she just grins at me.

"You should sign up," she begins excitedly, "I'm the president and I have the lead in the musical. We're short in actors. Everybody wants to sing." She jokingly made a face.

I laughed. "Soph, this is not my kind of thing. And what about the three other sports I've committed to?"

She frowned. "Aw, come on, Josh. Give it a chance, will ya? I could use your help here. "

"I don't have the time, besides I've been looking for a job,too. Money's tight," I shrugged, offering her an apologetic smile.

She rocked on the balls of her feet, chewing her lip. "Alright, but if you change your mind, we could really use you. "

I nodded. "I'll keep it up here," I joked, pointing to my head. "See ya later, hon. "

She waved and disappeared into the crowd of drama kids.

I turned and walked out to my car, eager to get home and change clothes. Maybe a little soccer in the park will clear my head of all thoughts of Dani. He was absolutely adorable with his flushed cheeks and shy mannerisms.

I entered the small yellow house, keys clanging as I twirled my lanyard around. Almost to the stairs that led down to my rooms, I heard my name being called. A sigh left my lips.

Just as I turned, Linda came out from the kitchen, flashing me the same smile she has for years. Full of pity and utterly sympathetic. It made me sick every time I saw it.

Linda put her hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze that made my skin crawl.
"She did well today. Able to work and no breakdowns."

I nodded robotically, wishing I could just go to my room. But Linda kept talking, telling me the details of my mother's day. What meds she took, how positive she was during the day... To me, it almost meant nothing. I've worked so hard to block out the feelings a damaged family could bring. All I wanted was to run, escape. But it really did feel like my mother was my shackle. If I left her, I was selfish. The guilt would eat me alive.

"She would like to see you."

Linda's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I knew Linda was lying. My mother never says a word to me, not since the accident. She doesn't look me in the eye, as if it was too much of a struggle to lift her gaze. And yet, I still stay, still love her, still care. She's my mother. I can't not do those things.
"Thanks Linda," I croaked, speaking to her for the first time.

She led me around the corner, through the kitchen, and out into the patio. My mother sat in her rocking chair, staring at our backyard with a blank look on her face. A wool blanket covered her legs and she wore a sweatshirt and mittens. I shivered in the cool air, fall just starting to hit with its chilly breezes and colorful leaves.

"Hey Mom," I said, pulling up a plastic yard chair.

Of course, she gave no response or a sign that she ever would. I waited a couple minutes, my ears ringing in the icy silence.

"I'm glad we hired Linda l," I heard myself say. In my stomach, the bubbling acidic feeling of hope burst into my throat. It was disgusting. I swallowed it down. "She says you're improving."
Nothing but the ring echoed in the room.

I slowly stood up from my chair. When my last thread was once again cut, I kissed her forehead and left.

I thought about Sophia's offer and my mind was made up before I had realized my phone was at my ear.

"Josh?"

"Is the meeting still going? I want to join."

*******

When I entered the auditorium from backstage, all eyes immediately went to me. Avoiding them, I sat next to Sophia, who flashed me a smile. She quickly went on with whatever she was taking about. Something having to do with backstage PDA.

I spaced out until she addressed the group again, having us stand so we could be paired for an activity. I let my eyes drift until they met a familiar blue set, already staring at me. Flushed cheeks turned into red tomatoes. Dani.