Your Inaccessible Light

First and second lesson are hell. I feel so empty that I can’t even function. Every inch of my body feels heavy and exhausted, and my brain can’t process anything the teacher says. I have English third lesson which means Ronnie will be there too. I sit somewhere where there will be no space for Ronnie to sit next to me because I really can’t face him at the moment. I collapse into my seat and stare down at the desk, trying to drown out the constant noise and chatter of the other students in the room. I wish I was somewhere else. I wish I was anywhere but here.

“What’s up with you?” a familiar voice asks. I look up from my desk to see Ronnie crouched next to me. There is genuine concern in his voice and he bears an unmistakable resemblance to Austin. I can’t deal with this; not today.

“Nothing,” I shrug.

“Liar. You can talk to me Noelle,” he repeats, and suddenly I feel myself fall apart. A couple of tears escape my eyes and I know that now I’ve started crying, I won’t be able to stop. I get out of my seat and tell the teacher I have to go to the bathroom, rushing out the door before I finally begin to sob.

“Noelle!” Ronnie yells after me. I should have known he would follow me. He never quits. I carry on walking, quickening my pace to try and lose him. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work. Ronnie grabs my arm and spins me round, forcing me to face him. I stare down at the ground, partly out of embarrassment but also because I hate people seeing me cry, particularly Ronnie. I feel Ronnie’s arms around me as he pulls me into a tight hug. I bury my head in his chest, becoming increasingly frustrated with each sob that escapes my body.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” he reassures me, but he’s wrong. It’s not going to be okay because it never is. I don’t see how anything will ever be okay again. Ronnie holds me for what feels like forever, and I slowly stop crying and calm down. I feel safe with him. I feel something I can’t describe.

“Noelle, please tell me what’s wrong. Why are you crying?” he sighs, stroking my hair and still holding me close to his chest.

“Ronnie, why do you care?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” he exhales slowly, pausing for a second, “I really don’t know. I just know I really fucking care about you.” I feel butterflies in my stomach and my head goes dizzy again. I realise that Ronnie is the first person that has seen me cry in a long time. Suddenly all those bad memories, those completely overwhelming memories, are replaced with thoughts of Ronnie. He is not as bad as he is made out to be. He is not bad at all, in fact.

“I want to help you,” he says softly.

“Thank you,” I whisper, “I just need some time.”

“Okay, you know I’m here though anytime, literally whenever you need me. Ring me or come to my house; you know where I live. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the fucking night. I just want to help you sweetie.”

“Thank you,” I tell him again, because I don’t really know what else to say. I am thankful. Even though I haven’t known him long at all, I feel strange things when I’m around him. It’s not just that he reminds me of Austin; it’s something else. I can’t put into words what I’m feeling, but I’m feeling something. When I’m with him, I don’t feel so empty.

“Are you coming to band practise tonight?” he asks me, changing the subject. He must have noticed me hesitate because he quickly adds, “We won’t be drinking a lot. Max told me about Saturday. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay,” I shrug. I’m not annoyed with him. I would tell him if I was. From what I’ve seen so far, they’re not bad people. They’re just caught up in things they shouldn’t be, just the same as Austin was.

“So you’ll come then?”

“Okay,” I agree. I’m sure it will be fun if they’re not drinking a lot. Besides, it’s nice being around Ronnie. It’s nice not feeling empty.

“I’ll pick you up at five,” he decides, taking my hand and leading me back to class.

I can’t decide whether I’m more excited or nervous to be going to band practise tonight. I don’t want to get involved in their mess, but at the same time, I can’t resist. It’s pretty cool hanging out with a band, especially with guys like Ronnie and Max. At my old school, I wasn’t exactly popular. I had a few friends but I shut myself off from them when shit started going down with Austin. When the truth was revealed, at least what they thought was the truth, suddenly everyone wanted to be my friend. People were sending me nice messages and inviting me out to things, not that I ever accepted; I knew it was only because they felt sorry for me. Here it is different. No one knows me. No one knows I’m weak and no one knows about Austin. It’s like a blank canvas that I can recreate myself on. I hear a car engine outside and peer out the window to see Ronnie pulling up in his battered old van. Picking up my bag, I rush downstairs and tell my dad I’m going out. My mother is at work of course. I’ve noticed that there’s rarely a time when neither of them is working. It’s almost like they avoid each other.

“Where to?” my dad asks, wearing the same false smile my mother always does.

“Just going round my friend’s for a bit but I’ll be back before nine,” I tell him. My parents have always had this rule that we can’t stay out past nine. My half-brother stopped keeping to it years ago, but he was technically an adult so maybe that’s why they didn’t bother saying anything. I doubt my parents would even notice if I was late back, let alone care, but I’d rather not risk it.

“Good girl, see you later then,” dad smiles. I nod and give him an awkward hug before leaving the house.

“Hey you,” Ronnie grins, “You look good.”

“Thanks,” I blush, looking down at my feet.

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah,” I force a smile, although I’m not too sure myself. He gives me a funny look; he knows I’m lying, but he lets it drop. It scares me how easily he can tell when I’m lying? Can everyone else tell that easily aswell?

“Good. Tonight will be fun, so that will cheer you up anyway,” he grins.

“Where are we going?”

“Monte’s place,” he explains. It isn’t long before Ronnie kills the engine outside a small tattered house on the outskirts of Vegas, the typically poorer side of town. Ronnie and I get out the van and he leads me down the driveway. Max answers the door and he greets Ronnie before pulling me into a friendly hug.

“It’s good to see you again,” Max tells me. I smile because it makes me feel wanted and important. We go inside and into a garage which is full of guitars, microphones and other musical equipment. Robert, Omar and Monte are setting things up, but they all stop momentarily to say hi to Ronnie and I. I take a seat on the couch in the corner of the room, crossing my legs and watching them in fascination. It’s clear to see how passionate they are about their music; not just Ronnie but all of the guys. They put so much time and effort into it, and it’s good to see them actually taking something seriously for once. I listen to them play a few songs, some that I have heard before, some that are new, all of which are good.