Shadow Me

One - Good Decisions

Haley

"Look, I never said I make the best decisions," I say to Clarissa as she narrows her eyes at me over her lunch plate.

The cafeteria calls today submarine sandwich day. It would be absolutely normal, if it weren't for the fact that the sandwiches taste like they may as well have been under water. At my school, every day is a new kind of food, each day more inedible than the next. But, we have food. I think that's what counts when half the world is starving. It's certainly what counts when half the nation is incapable of growing anything resembling a proper vegetable. The lettuce and tomatoes on my sub sandwich are less than kosher. But that doesn't matter as I sink my teeth into my own sandwich, choking down the gritty texture.

"You missed the party on Saturday!" Clarissa whines as I continue to stare at her.

Clarissa has this golden blonde hair that frames her face perfectly, and this sharp nose that makes it look like she's always angry. But I know better. She's never angry.

"I was studying for the history test," I say as she openly gapes at me.

"Even worse! It's hard enough to have fun these days, but to miss a party to study? Even I'm ashamed." she says.

I smile at her as I chew, feeling thankful that I have a friend like Clarissa to keep me on the straight and narrow.

"I never said I made good decisions for my social life," I rephrase myself, much to her disliking.

The scowl on her face makes me laugh. She throws a piece of lettuce that fell out of her sandwich at me as Scott sits down beside her. Next comes Ryan, beside me. Scott and Ryan are nice. Scott treats Clarissa just as I would want her to be treated by a good guy. As well as I would want to be treated by any guy that I dated.

"What about your social life?" Ryan asks.

"Haley," Clarissa growled out as if I were my own class of curse word, "missed the party on Friday to study for the history test."

I glare at her. Let it all out, why don't ya?

"Yeah, I noticed you weren't there," Scott says.

I shrug, feeling a little cornered, but not all regretting my choices. College might be a long shot these days with the economy, disease, and the natural disasters, but darn it, it's my dream.

"Yeah, I noticed too," Ryan says beside me, "why didn't you let me take you out?" he asks as Clarissa and Scott get lost in their own conversation.

"I just didn't feel like going," I say.

"You never feel like going. Doesn't mean you shouldn't try it anyway."

"I don't know," I say as I look away and tuck my bangs behind my ear. I've known forever that it's my tell-tale sign of discomfort. My dad pointed it out enough times - the times that he's seen me - that I become self - conscious and catch myself each time I do it.

"They're having another one this Friday. Why don't you let me take you?" Ryan says as I shiver against his breath, unexpected and lukewarm in my ear.

He's not unattractive. At all. With brown hair the color of hazelnuts and a jawline that makes half the guys in the lunchroom want to fly into a jealous rage, he'd be a catch if I felt anything for him.

I turn, not realizing how close he'd managed to get the second I turned away. His face was crowding mine as I tried to turn back to my lunch.

"Say yes!" Clarissa yells from across the table, ignoring the fact that her loud voice managed to echo, even in the loud cafeteria.

Scott looks at me as if he wants to climb under the table for me.

"C'mon," Ryan says, "I'll drive you."

"Yay!" Clarissa says as she claps her hands like a maniac.

Knowing I have no choice, I agree.

***

"I'm home!" I yell out to no one in particular as I close the front door as quickly as I'd slammed it open.

With a decisive thud I deposit my bag on the first chair I see in the living room. No one's home, but that doesn't stop me from pretending. I shrug off my sweater and put it on the sofa. It started getting cooler a few weeks ago, and this winter was promised to be severe. I walk my way into the kitchen, grabbing a drink from the refrigerator and shutting the door, staring at the picture of my Mom, Dad, and me from six years ago. I was eleven.

"How was your day, Haley?" I ask myself.

"Just fine, if you don't count the fact that I got myself roped into going to some stupid party just to save my social life."

"When's the party, honey?" I ask again.

"Friday," I sigh.

My parents are never home. I may have a little resentment toward them, but it's nothing like the way I feel they resent me. I plop myself on the sofa and read through my school work while I wait for Zelda to come in. I'm halfway done with my history review when I hear the door open and Zelda's small yell of hello. I jump up, excited to see her, and excited for some interaction.

"Zelda!" I yell back, just as I yell every day.

She enters the living room holding grocery bags, her usual accessory, stocked full of groceries ranging from the healthy veggies to the worst of snacks. I skip to her and lean down to give her a hug. She's short. Shorter than me, and that's saying something. But by her stature and pretty black hair that she always keeps in a tight bun, you'd never notice her in a crowd.

"Hi there, sweetie," she says as she pulls me down so she can kiss my cheek.

Zelda is like a Mom. She's as close to a Mom as I have, or probably ever will have.

"How was your day?" I ask.

"Oh, the usual. You know me. Panic, panic, panic."

I smile. Zelda is always over exaggerating, but I love it.

"And what for?" I say.

"Recipes! You eat everything in the house, child. I don't know what I'm going to feed you everyday."

"Your only option is to quit making things I like to eat."

"Oh, child. Go back to your homework. I've got work to do," she says.

I smile and give her a hug, our usual afternoon banter over as quickly as it had begun. I went back to my history review as she got busy in the kitchen, and only stopped to bother her in there three times. If it didn't smell so good, I probably would have left it alone. Most seventeen year old girls would die of embarrassment, having a nanny. I love the fact that I do. When she finally finishes dinner, she sets out a plate and gets ready to leave, like she does every day. And I ask her to stay, like I do every day.

So she sets out a dinner plate for herself and eats with me, ignoring the fact that she does have her own young kids at home who might want to eat dinner with her, but knowing that the kid in front of her has no real parents of her own to eat dinner with.

***

The rest of the week goes by quickly, and before I can even begin to truly dread it, it's Friday. Ryan will be here soon, and I can't decide on the right excuse out of going to this thing. My parents won't let me go would never work. I could never have food poisoning. Most every one knows that Zelda is a fantastic freaking cook. And I can't say I'm sick because I rarely, if ever, get sick.

I stare at the mirror, willing myself to somehow be even more covered up, regardless of the fact that I'm wearing jeans, a shirt, and a sweater. Going bundled up in a snow suit would still be too little of clothing for a night out with Ryan. I smooth down the fabric of my sweater and jump when I hear the honking of his truck. I curse his stupid truck under my breath as I head for my front door.