Forest Through the Trees

Chapter 5 (Willow)

“I’m not going,” I say, shaking my head and crossing my arms in protest.

“Aww. I was just kidding Will. That pimple looks more like a third eye, not a second head!” Kaleb laughs at his own attempt at a joke.

“You’re soooo funny. Well, at least I don’t still smell like dirty lake water and rejection. I can cover my “third eye” with makeup, you can’t wash away a personality flaw.”

I turn back to the mirror and scramble the contents of my makeup bag, digging for my concealer. Today, of all days to break out. I have a hard enough time facing judgment, but walking into a building filled with people that would like nothing more than to tear me to shreds, literally or figuratively is way more than I can handle with this massive growth on my forehead.

I try in vain to cover the angry red bulge but now it just looks like a slightly blurry angry red bulge.

Fuck it.

“I’m not going!”

I start back towards my room. All I want to do is crawl back under my big blue comforter and binge-watch season 4 of Gossip Girl. Chuck would agree with that choice, I’m sure. I’m not going to school. I’m not going to try to “play nice” and make new friends. I’m not going to sit through classes I don’t care about with teachers I don’t like, and I sure as s**t am not doing all of that with a massive zit on my forehead like a neon sign that says “nice to meet you I’m the princess of massive freaking pimples! Call me PIZZA FACE!” I don’t think I could come up with a worse first impression if I was Kaleb.

“Willow? Where do you think you’re going?”

Oh GREAT! My mother blocks my path.

“Well, actually I’m going back to bed.” I relay this matter-of-factly as I try to move past her and ascend the stairs.

“I don’t think so. You have school today.” She says this like I have somehow forgotten.

“Yeah. But, you know how you are always going on and on about “eliminating stress” from our lives because it’s “toxic and harmful to your soul”? Well, I am getting stress acne and my soul needs a ME day.” I use only a slight hint of sarcasm in my tone, hoping that she will actually give in and let me skip out.

Any hope that I had of actually seeing my bed again, dies when I see the look on her face. She takes one of her deep calming breaths before delivering my death blow.

“Willow. This year is going to be different. We have a chance to start fresh here. We all get a clean slate. A chance to make a better life for ourselves, and be the best version of ourselves. In order to have the best chance at doing that, you need to start out right. So I’m sorry, but you are not missing your first day of school.”

I’ll be honest, I zoned out. All I heard was hippy talk Blah, Blah, new age crap Yadah, Yadah, and what I’m sure is the same B.S excuse about how not getting what you want is good for you, the same excuse that we have gotten our whole lives.

Same s**t, different day.

She eyes me with crossed arms, most likely waiting for me to respond with either an argument or a “yes you’re right mom.” Instead, I say nothing and take my time studying her. Her dark brown hair is nothing like my blond or Kaleb’s lighter brown, and her skin is so tanned she almost looks native, even though no one in our bloodline is. In fact, there really isn’t anything about her that reminds me of myself.

Even her personality is nothing like mine.

Apparently, she used to be this really “negative” person, and then one day she took a long look at herself and didn’t like what she saw. So she went on a “journey of self-discovery” and decided to go all peace and love.

Basically, she became a hippy.

I personally think she had a mental break.

Either way, she completely changed. She even quit her job as an architect and started doing whatever made her happy. Now she “makes art”, which is what she calls building unique or re-purposing old furniture.

She even dresses like what you think a hippy would dress like. Long skirts, frilly tops, and sandals. It’s slightly embarrassing when introducing her to friends.

Not that it is a problem now. I don’t have any friends.

But the biggest change is in her personality. She has spent 90% of our lives off doing her own thing. Never cooking, cleaning, or doing the mom thing, like bugging us about school work. Hell Kaleb and I were lucky if we saw her two nights in a row while we were growing up, and with a dad that was never in the picture, we were completely on our own, left to do what we wanted when we wanted.

Then about 6 months ago, all of that changed. She started to give half a crap about what was going on in our lives, keeping tabs on where we went and when and even cooking us these disgusting “healthy” meals with soy and kale.

Yuck.

A small part of me was glad that I had a mom for once. Someone to actually take care of us instead of relying on us to take care of her. But a much bigger part is waiting for the other shoe to drop, wondering when the game will be over.

Besides the damage is kind of already done. Kaleb and I are practically adults and it is too little, too late.

I release a big sigh, I simply don’t have the energy to try today. Even with her.

Seeing that I am not going to start a fight, she relaxes, smiling down at me and stepping close to embrace me. I have never been comfortable with her affection and freeze as her arms go around me, pulling me into a hug.

“That’s my girl! You are going to have a great year, I just know it!”

She pushes a stray strand of hair behind my ear and looks me over. I flinch slightly from the contact but she doesn’t seem to notice. Then she grimaces.

“That Zit is really bad. You should try to cover it with some concealer.”

I want to scream.

Instead, I just swivel around, grab my bag off the table and march towards the door. As I’m about to slam the door for good measure, I hear her call to me.

“Don’t forget you have an appointment after school at 6:00! I won’t be here so….”

I cut her words off with the loud thud of wood hitting wood.

*** *** *** ***

The school is massive.

Kaleb and I stand in front of the back entrance where the bus dropped us off.

Ugh, the bus.

The big yellow limo.

This is the first time we have needed to take one to get to school. At our old place, we lived only a couple of blocks away and we would usually get picked up by our friends anyway.

Now I understand the pain.

It was packed full of kids sitting 2 or 3 to a seat, which is bad enough, but add the fact that it is unbelievably bumpy and has an overwhelming stench of hot plastic and B.O, and I had to concentrate on not barfing for the whole 23 min ride.

What I wouldn’t give to have my license.

And a car.

As the kids from bus, after bus, arrive and flood into the school, I start to realize just how massive it really is. Our old school had less than 800 students and everyone pretty much knew everyone. Here it is going to be incredibly easy to disappear, and I’m not sure if I find that thought comforting or not.

It is also going to be super easy to get lost. The school looks like it had one main building to start with and then they just kept adding new hallways in every direction. Then, when they ran out of space, they started building up. From here I can see that about 75% of the school has a second floor and some parts have a third. As far as I can see, there is no rhyme or reason to the layout at all. Hopefully, it just looks bad from the outside.

But it doesn’t.

As Kaleb and I are shuffled with the rest of the crowd inside, everyone breaks off heading up, down, left, right, or forward. Kaleb and I just look at each other with no idea where to go next.

“How many people go to this school?” I wonder out loud as I'm getting bumped and brushed past continuously.

“Last year’s count was just under 1900, but we are almost breaking 2000 this year! Isn’t that exciting?" Says a short mousy looking girl in a pleated skirt and pink sweater descends the stairs toward us. She looks like one of those perpetually happy people that get on every one of my last nerves. She continues speaking fast without waiting for a reply. “Freshmen, you are to report to level 1 gym 2, it’s through those doors to the left. I’m your student body President Molly Fredrickson, and welcome to M.S.S.”

She continues walking as she says all of this and is through the doors before she even takes a breath. I look at my brother and he looks at me. I can tell he is feeling the exact same way as I am.

Completely overwhelmed.

“We need to get to the office,” he says.

All I can do is nod.

We make our way with the majority of the crowd and by the time we reach what looks to be the cafeteria, I am so lost. I am positive I will never find my way back.

Like the rest of the school, the cafeteria is massive. At the far end is a stage with the curtains drawn and there are dozens of big round tables scattered throughout the main area. Hundreds of people are already sitting around, talking, laughing, and eating. One wall has a row of vending machines, the other has doors that lead into where I’m guessing the kitchen is, as kids carry out trays heaped with pancakes, eggs, and other breakfast goodies. In the corner closest to the door is a ping pong table and a pool table, already being used.

My stomach rumbles as a boy with a plate of French Toast walks by. I probably should have eaten something before we left, but I was too busy worrying about my third eye, and there is never any decent breakfast food in our house. The cafeteria at our old school never served breakfast. So, now that I know this school does, I’m going to be majorly fat by the end of the year.

“Come on Kaleb, let’s find the office before I die of hunger,” I call to him, heading for one of the four sets of double doors that lead out to another hallway. Hopefully, the main hallway.

“What the f**k?” A girl screeches from behind me.

I turn back to see Kaleb and the girl from the food booth at the lake squaring off. He looks shocked and is turning bright red.

“Honestly… what the f**k is wrong with you? Do you go out of your way to f**k up my day?” She is clearly pissed and the people closest to her are all watching it go down.

“What’s going on?” I ask, walking over.

As I approach, I notice that both Kaleb and the girl are covered in what looks like coffee. The look on Kaleb's face is pure horror.

Oh no. It’s too funny.

I can’t help myself as a small laugh escapes and soon people around us start to giggle too. The girl shoots me a look that could kill, and I try in vain to stifle my grin.

She turns her glare back to Kaleb. “Look at me! I’m f*****g soaked!”

“Look at you? You have a few drops on your shirt, I look like I pissed myself. And I’m not the one who ran into you with a hot cup of coffee, YOU ran into ME!”

Judging by the look on the girl's face, she is just as shocked as I am. Kaleb isn’t one to lose his temper, let alone at a strange girl in public. I think he might have even shocked himself, but he still looks pissed. Getting covered in coffee is way worse than my zit, and I’m almost sorry for laughing.

Almost.

He pushes past us without another word, and I’m left to follow after him.

“What the hell was that?” I ask him in a whispered tone when we get out into the hallway.

“What the hell was that?” He rounds on me, I can tell he is really upset. “That was me sticking up for myself, Will. Mom was right. This year can be different. And for me, it is going to be. I’m not going to let people walk all over me. Not anymore.” He looks down at himself. “This was Jessie’s fault, not mine. And I’m not going to let her make me feel bad about something I didn’t do.”

I raise an eyebrow. I can't say that he is wrong. I have always thought that he needed to learn to stick up for himself, and to be honest, I kind of like the new Kaleb. "Alright then," I say "As long as you still remember I'm the boss". I give him a smirk.

He takes a deep breath trying to collect himself and shakes his head. “Look at me. What am I supposed to do now?" he asks through gritted teeth.

“Well, you wore dark jeans, so when it dries it won’t be that noticeable. That's a plus.” I give him a weak smile, trying to reassure him but still be sympathetic. His white shirt is wrecked though. But it looks like his dark blue overshirt was mostly spared.

"Maybe you could take off your T-shirts and just wear the buttondown?" I suggest, trying to be helpful. I do feel bad for him. Neither of us is having a very good start to our first day.

"Yeah maybe," he says, already dropping his bag and peeling off his shirt. Right in the middle of the hallway.

People that walk by eye him up and down as he rushes to finish changing. A lot of the girls giggle and whisper to one another, openly ogling him as they pass. Someone even catcalls, but it's so crowded, that there is no way of knowing if it was directed at him. Kaleb pretends not to notice but his cheeks instantly redden.

I can't help but smile. My brother is built. He is fit and has a nice chest from years of being on the basketball and track teams. Not that I would ever tell him that. But I am glad he has that going for him because lord knows he needs all the help he can get.

“Well, it could always be worse,” I say to him as he finishes.

He scoffs at that “How exactly?". He shoves his ruined shirt in his bag and begins to button up the other. It's a little tight but it doesn't look bad, accentuating what the girls around us are still openly noticing he has.

“At least you got over your fear of talking to girls?” I laugh, patting his shoulder.

To my relief, I notice a big sign hanging over a wall of windows with a door in it. The sign says “Administration Office”.

Thank god. We're saved.

*** *** ***

The guidance counselor I am assigned introduces himself as Mr. Gibs. He is a young man, probably in his late 20s, with kind eyes and a hopeful smile.

This must be his first day.

He doesn’t pester me with questions about my future plans, which is good because I don't have any. I am sure, with a student population as high as this one, he must be busy. I choose my elective courses and he explains how the timetable is broken up, what time the classes are and how they rotate depending on the day. When he is finished, he hands me the sheet.

"Any questions so far?"

I just shake my head while looking over my classes.

“Great! So, for this semester, we have you in…” He looks back at his computer. “Period A) Academic English 3 with Mrs. Collins, Period B) Art Basics with Mrs. McLagan, Period C) Applied Math 3 with Mrs. Thwaits and Period D) Girls Gym 3 with Mr. Thomson. Next Sem…”

I interject, clearing my throat and raising my hand. I’m never sure if you are supposed to treat guidance counselors like teachers or like actual counselors or something. Either way, I’m trying to be as respectful as possible, someone else can crush the new guy’s hopes and dreams that not all teenagers suck.

“Sorry, but I’m not supposed to take Gym this year…”

He eyes me from behind his computer skeptically. I’m sure a lot of people try to get out of gym class. But I have an honest-to-god excuse. Not that I’m going to go through it all with this guy.

“It should be in my file” I prompt.

As he is searching through his computer, I am praying that my mother at least remembered to get our documents sent over. I really don’t want to look like just another liar.

“Oh.” He says surprised as he looks me over. “That changes things”.

He spends the next few min tapping away at his computer silently. I feel a little uncomfortable so I take this time to look around. My gaze wanders out the glass windows that separate his office from the main office. The secretaries are busy and are running around like crazy. I’m sure the first few days are hell for them. I don’t envy their job on a good day, let alone today.

When Kaleb and I first got here, there was a massive line of students, most of them were here to switch classes or lockers or lodge general complaints. Every one of them was dealt with quickly, booked an appointment, and sent on their way. My brother and I had no classes to be sent off to, so we were sent right in to “get some guidance”.

I watch as the last person from that line receives a blue slip just as the front doors burst open.

In strides a tall guy with brown hair that fans out from underneath a beanie. He’s wearing dark blue jeans that are slightly too loose on him and a grey T-shirt that reads “If assholes could fly, this place would be an airport”, underneath a dark hoodie.

I can’t help but smirk. Mr. Douchebag broke rules 3, 4, and 5 just by getting dressed today.

None of the secretaries look happy to see him. Or surprised for that matter. He must be a regular.

I can’t hear what is being said but one of the ladies points to his head and extends her hand. The guy dramatically removes his hat and throws it at her outstretched hand. A moment later, an older man, who I am guessing is the principal, comes out of an office on the far side and gestures for El Douchey to follow him.

My curiosity is peaked. I wonder if he is just in here for the shirt or if he has managed to get in some other form of trouble in the whole 30 min school has been in.

“Alrighty! I think I’ve got it.” Gibbs brings me back to the task at hand. Printing out and passing over my new schedule. "No more Gym for you, You'll be taking Com Tech instead." He smiles over at me.

“Thank you, Mr. Gibbs” I smile back, taking the sheet.

“You will do well here Willow, just dig in, work hard, and you will find your niche. I didn’t find mine till my second year of grad school. You have plenty of time.”

I nod wondering if that is true or if it is something he says to make students feel better about having no direction. I stand, turning for the door when he stops me.

“Oh, and Willow? Be aware my door is always open. Of course, you won’t get past the secretaries without an appointment.” He chuckles.“But if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

“Uh… thanks?”

I’m not sure why he is telling me this until he adds.

“I am also a registered psychiatrist.” He says this proudly, gesturing to the framed degree on the wall.

My hand is frozen on the door.

Ah, it makes sense now.

That’s why he was being so nice to me, going out of his way to make me feel “welcome”. There is more in my file than I was aware of.

I HATE people’s pity.

So much for my “clean slate”. My “Fresh start”.

The door jerks open while my hand is on it and the sass I was about to spew dies in my throat.

In barges, the douche, giving me the once over “You done yet?”.

He now has on a pink shirt that says “I love to Read” in white and black striped lettering. He saunters over and carelessly flops down into one of the chairs in front of Mr. Gibb's desk, slouching so much that he is almost lying down. He eyes me slowly from head to toe, lingering on my breasts long enough to be noticeable.

I know guys like him. He wants to make me uncomfortable.

But I don’t flinch. I don’t even look away.

“Alex. What are you doing in here?” Mr. Gibbs asks him, appearing to be exhausted just from his presence.

“Pinecone sent me over. There is a problem with my schedule.” He still hasn’t taken his gaze from me. And I’ll admit, it’s starting to make me slightly uncomfortable.

Mr. Gibbs snaps his fingers at him, trying to draw his attention away from me.

“That’s very rude Gibbs.” Alex finally releases his stare and slowly turns on Mr. Gibbs, who shifts uncomfortably under his glare.

Is he honestly scared of this ass-hat?

He only manages to continue after clearing his throat “Alex. What problem exactly did Vice-Principal Pincombe..." He pronounced the name slowly and correctly "send you to me for?”.

Alex completely ignores Mr. Gibb's question and once more focuses his attention on me. He has a sick smile on his face, one that promises pain or misery. For someone who doesn't know all about putting on a fake face, it might work as intimidation.

But not on me.

Instead of turning away, I return it with my own burning stare. When his own smile falters, I get a slight hint of satisfaction. That feeling is short-lived when he instead starts a loathing scowl. He is no doubt pissed that his usual tactic didn’t send me running for the hills.

“Why are you still here?” He hisses in my direction. Turning away like I am no more bother to him than a mooching dog.

I grit my teeth.

Prick.

I won't give him the satisfaction of thinking he scared me off.

Perhaps I shouldn't poke the bear and instead, just close the door and walk away.

But that's not me.

"It's Alex, right?"

He looks back at me confused. Maybe surprised that I am still here.

I don't wait for him to answer. "Elle Woods called, she wants her shirt back," I say with a smirk before letting the door close between us.