Memories in My Eyes

2 weeks. I'd been at Bridgewood Preparatory School for 2 weeks, and I'd yet to make a single friend. Not that I'd expected to make any in the first place. I was the definition of an outcast. No one talked to me, and I'd been named the teacher's pet of AP English. It wasn't my fault that no one seemed to be intelligent enough to say something other than, "I thought the chapter was interesting". You'd think being in a private school that everyone would be eager to argue their point of view, but this was just like any other school. The jocks were assholes and often walked around with loose ties and untucked shirts. The cheerleaders purposely shortened their skirts and wore pounds of makeup. You could tell the difference between the people that wanted to be here and the people that were forced to be here. Gabriel had yet to actually transfer over, and I was starting to think he never would.

"Elena!" My entire body jerked, and I blinked my eyes a couple times. The classroom had completely cleared out, and I was alone with the exception of Mr. O'Donoghue. Not that it really mattered considering that I had a free period. I gathered my books and stuffed them into my backpack, swinging it over my shoulder.

"Sorry," I mumbled, moving to walk out of the room. This wasn't the first time I'd dozed off in his class, but he didn't seem to mind to much. It wasn't like he could complain. I had the highest grade in the class, and I was just about the only person that interacted with him. It was like no one actually had an opinion.

"It's alright. You can stay if you want to, or I can take you to the music room." I hadn't been since my first day at the school. I hadn't formed a close enough bond with my other teachers to ask them for the keys, and Mr. O'Donoghue spent majority of his time grading papers. I spent most of my free periods in the library or in the courtyard when it was warm enough.

"No papers to grade today?" I asked, following him out into the hallway.

"We have a long weekend coming up. I figured I would just get everything done then." One thing I enjoyed about this particular school was that we ran on our own schedule. We got more days off than were necessary, but I wasn't going to complain about getting a break from sitting in a classroom.

"Oh," I followed him down the hallway silently, pulling at a loose thread on my sweater. A few people glanced in our direction and whispered. I'd over heard a couple of girls talking in the bathroom one day, claiming that I was probably sleeping with him....because that's the only reason he would spend so much time around me. It wasn't my fault that no one else wanted to make an effort toward their grade. I wanted my last couple years of high school to be as painless as possible, "Thank you," I said as he unlocked the door. I stepped inside, walking straight to the piano and dropping my bag. I dusted the bench off and sat down, playing the beginning notes of Moonlight Sonata.

"Bit depressing," he said, taking a seat on the stool in front of me.

"I agree, but I think it's the most beautiful piece I've ever heard. I spent so long trying to perfect it. I can play it with my eyes closed," I admitted sheepishly, glancing up at him over the instrument. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, an appreciative smile spreading across his face. I let the music fade out, though I was nowhere near finished, and intertwined my fingers in my lap. Taking the time to look at him over the last couple weeks, I'd realized how attractive he was, and it wasn't just the accent. It was the color of his eyes and the way his hair always seemed messy yet perfect at the same time. It was the way he treated me like I was human being and not a social pariah or a piece of porcelain.

"What else can you play?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I can play anything you put in front of me, but without sheet music? Not too much. I enjoy listening to classical music more than I like playing it. I can play a lot of stuff by ear." I started the notes for A Thousand Years. I doubted that he would actually know what song it was, but a small smile appeared, and I stopped playing.

"Christina Perri." I was shocked, but I smiled and nodded anyway.

"I'm surprised you know who she is."

"My girlfriend is obsessed with the Twilight series. I think I've watched every movie with her at least five times." I wasn't sure why I was disappointed about the fact that he was in relationship. It was none of my business, and he was my teacher.

"Sometimes I forget that she wrote that song for the last two movies." I stood from the piano bench and made my way over to the guitar. I picked it up and put the strap over my shoulder, running my fingers over the strings.

"Are you a fan of hers?"

"Very much so. Been to four of her concerts. She's great." I frowned at the memory of the last one I went to. It was supposed to be a happy time, but it was two days before the incident with Eric. That week would forever be ruined.

"You okay?" His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but I'd just left a school where everyone knew what happened. I was happy that I didn't have to talk about it or have people reminding me about it constantly. I thought about it enough on my own.

"Yeah," I lied smoothly, faking a small smile and taking the guitar off. I walked back over to the piano and sat down, trying to calm my budding anxiety. I hadn't had an attack for a while, and the last thing I wanted was to have an episode in front of the only "friend" I'd made so far.

"May I ask a question?" I was about to make a comment about him being formal, but I had to remember that he was an English teacher.

"Go for it."

"You're a bit antisocial. Is that on purpose? Or are people bothering you." No one had been exactly welcoming, but I didn't try to reach out to anyone else either. I preferred staying to myself over creating useless friendships with people I was probably never going to see after I graduated.

"A bit of both I guess," I muttered honestly, pressing down on one of the black keys.

"You don't want to make friends?" I didn't understand why he was so curious. Most teachers didn't delve this far into their students lives, but he hadn't gotten personal so I kept my question to myself.

"I didn't really come here with that intention. I didn't even come here by choice. My parents felt the need to pull me out of my other school because they thought I was being bullied. I'm just here to graduate. I don't plan in staying in Connecticut for the rest of my life." I had plans to live in New York. Juilliard was my first choice for school, and regardless of whether I got in or not, I still planned to move.

"Were you being bullied?" I rolled my eyes, turning my face to ceiling.

"Something along those lines. I can handle myself though. They just freaked out." It's not that they didn't have a right to. I think any parent would freak out if their child was in the situation that I was. I just felt like their concern went overboard. They didn't need to take me out of school.

"They are your parents, and the situation must have been serious if they thought that they needed to pull you out of school." I decided not to argue on account of the fact that I'd have to explain everything that happened in order for him to understand my point of view.

"I guess." I didn't really have anything else to say, and at that point, all I wanted was to crawl into my bed and sleep, but I had five more classes after free period, and I wasn't good at faking sick.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." I'd talked about it enough. I was required to see a shrink after everything happened, but I begged my parents to stop the appointments. I didn't want someone picking at my brain. I was as good as I was going to get. I wasn't slipping into a depression. I just wanted to be left alone.

"That bad?"

"You have no idea." I pressed down on the piano keys, letting my hands go where they wanted. I could feel my cheeks getting hot and my eyes welling with tears, but I refused to cry.

It's not your fault.

I always repeated those words to myself, yet I never believed them. In my eyes, there was something I could have done to stop him, something I could have done to make things better, but I didn't try hard enough.

"What do you mean?" I stopped playing and looked up at Mr. O'Donoghue, wiping away the tears that had escaped from the corners of my eyes.

"I'm sorry?" I raised my eyebrows. I didn't remember saying anything.

"You said you didn't try hard enough. What do you mean?" Had I actually said that out loud?

"Uhm....nothing. That was supposed to stay in my head," I mumbled, grabbing my bag from the floor. I needed to be alone, and I knew he wasn't going to leave me in here by myself.

"You can talk to me, Elena." I gave a small smile at the kind gesture, but I wouldn't be dropping secrets anytime soon.

"Thanks Mr. O'Donoghue. I have to use the restroom. You can just lock the door. I'll see you tomorrow." I walked out before he could say anything else, nearly running into the nearest restroom. I locked myself in one of the stalls and broke down for the first time in weeks.