WITHERBRANC

It's 7:00 a.m. My alarm is ringing, and I can feel the breeze hitting my window. Birds are chirping. The noise finally makes me get up. I head to the bathroom and trip over my guitar. I left it on the floor last night and forgot. "s**t, that hurt." I pick it up, put it in the corner, and go take a shower. I get out and look at myself in the mirror. I stare at my reflection — same tired eyes, same hollow cheeks. I hope today is an excellent day. It's my first day of high school. I'm 16. I was lost in my thoughts again when my mom yells from downstairs. "Thea!! You're going to be late! Come have breakfast!" "Coming, Mom! I'm just drying my hair!" I go downstairs and sit down. I say good morning to my dad, but he doesn't look up from his newspaper. His jaw tightens, just a little. I'm used to it. My mom is the same, but at least she pretends better. She forces a small smile, but her eyes don't match it. "Dad, will you drive me today? I don't want to be late on my first day." "I can't, I'm already late for my first day at work. But here, for the taxi." He comes over, kisses my forehead — quick, mechanical, like a habit he can't break — and walks to the door. I call him back. "Dad... when are you going to forgive me? I'm your daughter too." He just stops for a few seconds. His hand hovers over the doorknob, like he's about to say something. He doesn't. "We'll talk about that later." "Right. I figured," I say, pushing my food around my plate. "I don't know why I even ask for forgiveness if... it was never my fault. I tried to save him, but I see you will never care about that." He walks out. The door clicks shut behind him. I stare at it for a moment, waiting. He never comes back. I look at the time. I'm late. I grab my backpack, say goodbye to my mom, and run to the taxi stop. I'm waiting when a guy arrives to wait too. I take a quick glance. Wow, he's handsome. Tanned skin, curly black hair, a little taller than me, blue eyes. "What school do you go to?" "I'm going to St. Silas High. You?" "No way, looks like we're going to the same one. What's your name?" "I'm Thea. And you?" "I'm Derek. Nice to meet you." I froze when he gave me his hand. It was cold. Not just chilly — cold, like he'd been holding ice. For a second, I swear his eyes flickered, catching the light in a way they shouldn't. I blink, and it's gone. "Are you sick or something? Your hand is freezing," I joke. "Maybe," he smiles. But his eyes don't smile with him. The taxi arrived, and we got in together. The whole ride was silent, but I felt like he was glancing at me sometimes. I caught him once, and he looked away too fast. When we got to school, he got out and waited for me so we could walk in together. Wow, the school is huge. When we walked in, everyone in the hallway stared at us, but mostly at me. Their eyes followed me like I was a stranger in a place I was supposed to belong. I looked down a little, but kept walking. I refused to run. We split up to different classrooms and I sat down. That's when I saw him. The guy who made me drop all my boxes yesterday. "Looks like you survived," he laughs. "Are you always such an i***t?" "Sometimes. Only with the ones I have my eye on." The teacher walks in. "Please, be quiet. It's time to start class." He starts roll call. "Bryan, present. Vivian, present. Scott, present. Ezra, present." He stood up. Of course he had to be named that. So arrogant and annoying. Then the teacher says my name. "Thea, present." Ezra turns around. "So your name is Thea. Interesting." "Shut up." Time passes, the bell rings, and I pack my backpack and go to my next class. I sit in the last row and I can't believe it, I run into Derek again. And of course, the mean girls had to show up. "Hi, I'm Tiffany. She is Cleo and she is Sarah. Nice to meet you. And you?" "I'm Thea." "What a peculiar name. It fits you perfectly. Looks like the school is doing fundraisers," she says, her eyes scanning me up and down like I'm something she stepped on. "Same to you. And smarter, of course. The school really needed students with brains who come to study, not people who think they're all that," I answer. Her face turns bright red. It feels so good. She walks away, but I see her hands clench into fists. Derek, next to me, says, "Whoa... you're a tough girl, huh? Remind me not to get on your bad side." I laugh. "I was just defending myself. What was her problem? Seems like she likes you a lot." "Well... it's a long story. In the past we were almost something, but because of some things we ended. Apparently she hasn't gotten over it." School is over. I wait for my dad to pick me up. I wait 10 minutes. Then 20 minutes. It starts to rain, cold and sharp against my skin. My clothes cling to me, heavy and damp. Looks like he's not coming. I laugh quietly to myself, but it's hollow. Then Ezra approaches. "You're already soaked for me." "Shut up, i***t. Don't bother me. I've had enough today." "Want a ride home?" I was so surprised I didn't even realize I said, "Sure, I guess." We walk to his motorcycle. He hands me his helmet. I get on behind him. "Hold on tight, wet girl," he says. I'm holding the back of the bike and he accelerates hard. "i***t!" I yell and wrap my arms around his waist. He's warm. I didn't expect that. The wind whips against my face, and I can smell his jacket — leather and rain. I don't know why, but I close my eyes. For a second, I forget about Ben. I forget about my parents. I just feel the road beneath us. It's the first time in months I don't feel so alone. When we finally got to my house, I say, "Thanks, Ezra..." "Aw, the wet girl is thanking me. How cute." "Screw you," I say, but I'm smiling. I don't even realize it until I'm inside. I go up to my room, take off my wet clothes, shower, change, and sit down to study. Two hours pass when my mom knocks on my door. "Dinner is ready." Two minutes later I go down and sit with them. My mom asks, "How was your day, honey?" "Good, Mom. But why are you asking all of a sudden? You've never cared what happens to me since my little brother died..." "Thea, what are you talking about? I've always worried about you," my mom says. But she avoids my eyes. "Oh, please, Mom, don't lie. It's not true." My dad jumps in. "Thea!! Don't talk to your mother in that tone!" I look at him. My father is standing, his fist clenched. But it's not anger I see in his eyes. It's fear. "How do you want me to talk to you, Dad? You look at me like I'm the reason he's gone. Like I was the one who failed him. And maybe I did. I don't even remember that night. But I know I tried to save him. I know I was there." "I loved him too, Dad." A knot forms in my throat. "I miss him too. But you only see your own pain. You never see mine." "I wish it had been me." The words come out broken. My eyes burn, and I blink, but the tears fall anyway. "I wish Ben were here and I were in his place." My voice cracks. "At least then... at least you'd be happy." And then I see it. A tear. In my father's eye. Quick, almost invisible. But I see it. For a moment, I want to hug him. Tell him I understand. But he turns away. "Go to your room, Thea." I walk up the stairs without looking back. When I close my door, I finally let myself crumble. I slide down against the wood, my back against the door, and press my palms to my eyes. But the tears keep coming, hot and silent, soaking my hands. I reach for my headphones, put them on, and grab my diary. The pen trembles in my fingers. "Sometimes I wonder if this is a dream. If one day I'll wake up and we'll be a happy family again. And Ben will be alive. And Dad will look at me with something other than blame. And and and..." I stop writing. My hand is shaking. I close the diary and put it in the drawer. I lie on my back, the music playing in my ears, the wind coming through the window, cool against my wet cheeks. The tears don't stop. They just keep falling, soaking my pillow, and I don't have the strength to wipe them away. I close my eyes. And I fall asleep still crying.