My Life... Or How I Once Knew It

The buzzing next to my ear was loud enough to wake the dead. I turned over and hit the alarm clock on my bedside table. Yawning, I got out of bed and went to my closet. I figured jeans and a red Nike t-shirt would do for the first day of school, so I changed and went into the bathroom.

Not a moment later there was a pounding on the door and my sister came in. “Can I help you?” I asked, putting my toothbrush down and raising an eyebrow.

“Mom made breakfast,” she said and left, leaving the door open.

I rolled my eyes and resumed brushing my teeth. After popping in my contacts and putting my hair up in a ponytail, I headed downstairs to eat. I wasn’t in the greatest moods and my mom must’ve noticed because she tried to cheer me up.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. Everyone’s going to be nervous. It’s the first day.” I just looked at her, not saying a word. Yeah, but everyone also has a friend and someone to eat lunch with. I hated it.

“What’s for breakfast?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Cereal,” she replied and pulled out a box of honeycomb from under the cabinet and made me a bowl.

I looked out the window in time to see my dad and sister pulling out of the driveway. He took us to school now, ever since he quit. We got to see him more, so I got to spend more time with him in the mornings and in the afternoons when he picked me up.

The clock said 7:30. I had 50 minutes before we had to leave, so I switched on the TV, dreading the day to come. A new school with new people. Not exactly the place I want to be going.


* * * * *

I looked around my homeroom, wishing I knew someone, anyone, in it. Then again, I didn’t know anyone, so the chances of that were none. We sat in groups of two. I found the desk with my name on it and stood in front of it. No one else was there yet, but there would be people soon.

“Excuse me. You’re standing in front of my desk.” A girl with dirty blonde hair was standing behind me with her books clutched with both hands. I looked down. Whoops. I took a couple steps to the left and put my books on my desk. I’d been standing between the two, but I guess I hadn’t realized where I was.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and took my seat.

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m Courtney by the way.” She plopped down beside me and stuck out a hand.

“Julie,” I said and shook it. I played with the keychain on the zipper to my backpack.

“You play soccer?” She was looking at my keychain. I nodded, not saying a word. “That’s cool. I’m not really a sports person, though. I play the violin.”

“I used to, but I quit over the summer.” Because my parents couldn’t afford to rent one and pay for lessons, I added in my head. Before I could say anything else, our homeroom teacher went to the front of the room and waited for all to quiet down.

“It’s so good to be back here again. Now raise you hand and tell me, how many of you are returning students from last year?” Everyone raised their hands except me and Courtney. “Well that’s wonderful!” She said some other stuff, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy worrying about the day to come. She finished just as the bell to dismiss us rang, and I heard her shout something about having a good first day. Yeah right.

I looked at my schedule. It turns out my homeroom teacher is also my first period geography teacher. That’s convenient I guess. I just have to find the desk with my name on it under first period. I got up and started searching as the other kids were filing in the classroom and looking for their desks as well. I found mine finally. Thank goodness I wasn’t in the front. I took a seat and looked at the names that were taped on my desk. It turns out Courtney sits there 4th period. That’s kind of cool.

On the desk next to me under the first period column it said Christopher Louis. I whispered the name trying to figure out where I’d heard it before.

“Yeah, that would be me.” A boy was standing behind me, about my height, maybe an inch or two shorter, with dirty blonde hair. He put his books down on his desk.

“Oh, sorry,” I said blushing a little. He must’ve heard me. “Do I know you from somewhere?” His faced looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“I don’t know, do you?” He sat down and looked at me.

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked you.”

“Oh. Right. Umm… you play soccer?” He eyed my keychain and then it hit me.

“I do know you... sorta. You play for the Hurricanes right? With Tom Shepard?” That’s where I’ve seen him. He’s on Tom’s team!

“Yeah. How do you know Tom?”

“Oh, we’ve been friends forever. I went to school with him for eight years.” He let out a low whistle. I guess eight years at one school is a long time. It would’ve been ten, I thought to myself, but I didn’t say anything out loud.

“What position?”

“Left forward. I’m left footed, so it’s easier for me there.”

“That’s cool. I play left mid.” He smiled and then opened his backpack, pulling out a pen and a couple sheets of paper. Then the bell rang. I looked at my desk. It had nothing on it. “Look at the board,” he whispered. I glanced up. Written on the board were the words:

Please have out a pen and 2 sheets of paper.

“Right. Thanks.” I took out the stuff I needed and looked towards my teacher. She was standing at the front of the class with a stack of papers in her hands.

“Hello, I’m Mrs. Brian. Today you will be interviewing the person next to you. On this sheet of paper there are the questions you need to ask them and you will write their responses on your notebook paper. Hopefully you are sitting next to someone you don’t already know. This activity is to help to you know your classmates better. You may begin when I had you the questions. Any questions?” she paused and looked up to make sure no one had raised their hands. “Good,” she ended with that one word and began passing out the papers. I got mine and turned in my chair a little I was able to face Christopher.

“Do you wanna go first or what?” I asked.

“I don’t care.” He said and leaned back in his chair a little. His Tampa Spartan’s Soccer Camp t-shirt was the exact one my brother had gotten when he went there over the summer.

“Okay then.” I looked at the paper for a couple seconds and then said, “I’ll ask the questions first.” He agreed and we got to work. “Name?”

“Chris, but you already knew that,” he said half smiling to himself. I ignored the comment and kept on reading.

“Favorite color?”

“Red and blue, but not together.”

“Favorite sport?”

“Soccer, definitely.”

“Favorite type of music?”

“I don’t really have one….”

“Well, do you have a favorite band?

“Yeah. Fall Out Boy.”

“Well, they’re like alternative or punk right?”

“Yeah, but I listen to a bunch of different kinds of music.”

“I’m putting Alternative and Punk okay?”

“Sure, whatever.” He finished answering all the questions and I had all the answers written down. “My turn to ask,” he said and picked up his pen. The questions were simple to answer, but then it came to some of the more personal, family related ones and I started having trouble.

“Father’s occupation?” I paused and bit my lip, avoiding his eyes when he looked up.

“Uh…” I couldn’t think of what to say. Well, I could, but I didn’t want to say it.

“What’s your dad’s job?” He must’ve thought I didn’t know what occupation meant.

“I’m not stupid,” I said, “I know what it means. He’s unemployed, okay? He doesn’t have a job… at the moment.”

“Oh.” Chris looked down at his paper, and wrote down the word unemployed. I don’t know why it was so hard for me to say it, why I was so embarrassed. I did know, actually. It was the hand-me-down clothes that I had to wear now. It was not being able to eat for dinner anymore because we could only afford certain food items. It was the “Classified” section of the newspaper my dad always read, circling possible job opportunities. It was everything.

He continued asking questions and then when we were done, he asked one more, “Who do you have next?” I handed my schedule to him and he looked at my classes, comparing mine with his. “That’s cool, we have a couple classes together.”

“Yeah, cool,” I replied shortly. We sat there in an awkward silence for a couple of minutes until I couldn’t take it anymore. “How long have you been playing soccer?”

“A long time,” he said, “Probably eight or nine years. You?”

“This is my sixth.”

“That’s cool. How long have you been playing club?”

“A couple years.” I didn’t add in the fact that if my grandma hadn’t paid for everything this season that I’d have to quit, like I did with my violin. “You?”

“A while. I’ve been on that team for a long time.” The bell rang after he said that. “Well, I’ll see you in 3rd period then.”

“See ya.” I said as I headed out the door to art. I looked back before I hit the stairs smiling to myself. He’s cute.

* * * * *

One thing I noticed about the kids at school was that they’d ignore you if you weren’t friends with them. I kinda knew two people, but other than that, no one else seemed to talk to me. I figured this would happen, so I guess I wasn’t too offended when people would just walk by me. I think it’s just how things work. Every school has cliques and groups and stuff.

Entering the lunchroom, I saw that Courtney was sitting by herself at a table. I asked if I could sit with her and she seemed relieved.

“So are you on special assignment or something? ‘Cause, like, I noticed you didn’t raise your hand in homeroom today when she asked who’d been here last year,” she said before opening a bag of baked Lays potato chips.

“Oh,” I said, “yeah.” I took a bite out of my sandwich. I was starving. Why was lunch so late here?

“So where did you go to school last year?”

“I was at a private school for Pre-K through sixth grade.”

“That’s cool. I went to Stuart last year, but my mom got a new job, so I had to come here.”

“Oh.” We sat in silence for a little while until I heard a voice behind me. People seemed to be doing that; talking to me from behind, I mean.

“Can we sit with you guys? All the other tables are taken.” I turned around to see Chris and another boy holding their lunch trays. I looked at Courtney, who shrugged in response. I took that for a yes, so I said it was okay and they sat down. I introduced Courtney and Chris introduced his friend, whose name is Toby.

“So Toby,” I said, breaking the awkward silence, “do you play soccer, too? I don’t remember seeing you on the field last time I went to a game, but I wasn’t sure.”

“No, I play baseball.”

“Oh.” I didn’t really know what else to say. I figured I’d done my deed of the day by talking to a new person, but apparently Courtney doesn’t like silences very much.

“What position do you play? I tried softball for a year but I quit ‘cause I got bored.” Toby just looked at her and responded that he played third base. “Oh my god! That’s what I played!”

I looked over a Chris, exchanging a smile with him.

“Amazing,” Toby said sarcastically and elbowed Chris.

“We’ve gotta go. Bye Julie.” He nodded at Courtney.

“Bye.” I shook my head smiling and took a bite out of my sandwich. Some people are too hyper for their own god.

“He totally likes you,” Courtney said in a matter-of-factly tone.

“He barely knows me.” I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but like the thought. Courtney just shrugged.

* * * * *

Sitting in the car on the way to practice, I thought about what happened throughout the day. It was pretty boring really, we just sat around filled out papers. I didn’t get assigned any homework, which was a plus, and I met a few people, another plus. Overall, it wasn’t too bad. I got ignored by most of the people, but for me, getting to know at least three people was pretty good.

Getting out of the car, my mom and I said our good-byes and I made my way out to the field.

“Hey!” Standing out on the field was Tom. His team has practice today too… I forgot. When I got to him he just looked at me. I just looked back at him.

“What?” I asked, completely confused.

“You met Chris today? At his school?” Oh. That. I peered over Tom’s shoulder. And sure enough, there he was. Chris waved and I gave him a half smile in acknowledgement. I then turned back to Tom.

“Yeah,” I said, avoiding eye contact. “I’m…” I paused, and then continued in a small voice, “I’m going to a public school now.”

“What?” He said this loudly, so all heads turned in our direction. “Why?” I bit my lip, wanting to tell him, but not here and not now.

“I gotta go to practice.” I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm and stared me down. “I’ll tell you later.” Maybe, I added in my head. He let go and I walked over to where my team was warming up. I knew he was staring at me, but I couldn’t turn around and look at him. I just couldn’t.

I got over to where my team was stretching and put my stuff down. I joined them without saying a word and glanced up at Tom. All I could see now was the back of his head, but I got a glimpse of Chris. He waved. I waved back.

“Who is that?” Lisa, the girl next to me and one of my best friends from soccer had asked the question.

“Who?” I asked, knowing exactly who.

“The guy that stopped you. About your height, brown hair. Who was it?”

“Oh, that was Tom. He’s one of my best friends.”

“Oh.” She left it at that, and we finished stretching.

* * * * *

My dad was waiting for me in his Ford Explorer. He was sleeping, so I had to tap on the window to get him to open the door. “How was practice?” He yawned and started up the car.

“Fine,” I said. What else was there to say? I mean, I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him I was embarrassed that I wasn’t going to private school and because I didn’t tell one of my best friends, he was mad at me. I just couldn’t.

“You okay?” He looked over with a worried expression on his face. His dark brown hair was gelled back, but a little messed up where he’d propped his hand while he was sleeping.

“Yeah,” I lied, “today was just… different.” He frowned.

“If you ever want to talk, I’m here, okay?” I nodded and looked out the window.

At home, I went upstairs and took a shower. Then I went on the computer and checked my mail. I had a bunch of junk, but what else is new, right? Right before I logged off I got an instant message from Tom. Just my luck.

WannaRace123: hey
ClassicRockLuvr00: hi
WannaRace123: y r u goin 2 public skool now?
ClassicRockLuvr00: i dunno if i can tell u
WannaRace123: y not
ClassicRockLuvr00: cuz its sorta personal and family business and idk if my parents would let me tell u
WannaRace123: come on… u tell me everything
ClassicRockLuvr00: yeah but…
WannaRace123: just tell me… i wont tell ne1

I made a face at the computer, as if it would do me any good. I wanted to tell him, I really did. But I didn’t really know how. I didn’t respond so, he must’ve gotten a little impatient.

WannaRace123: u there?
ClassicRockLuvr00: o yeah… sry
WannaRace123: its k… so y rnt u goin 2 the academy ne more?
ClassicRockLuvr00: we couldn’t afford it
WannaRace123: wat r u talking about
ClassicRockLuvr00: i mean it… we couldn’t pay 4 it… my dad doesn’t hav a job ne more
WannaRace123: y not? hes been a lawyer 4ever
ClassicRockLuvr00: he just isn’t doin it ne more
WannaRace123: y not
ClassicRockLuvr00: cuz he quit… he found out stuff about some cases… and ppl found out he knew… they made him quit
WannaRace123: o

We were quiet for a while. I guess he didn’t know what to say, and I couldn’t believe I’d told him. I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t have, but I had to. I had to tell someone. You can’t just not tell anyone. I just hope he doesn’t tell anyone.

ClassicRockLuvr00: u cant tell ne1! not even ur parents
WannaRace123: oh… theyre gonna wanna no y ur not goin 2 private skool ne more
ClassicRockLuvr00: then dont tell them im not going. dont even bring it up
WannaRace123: what did ur dad find out
ClassicRockLuvr00: im not gonna tell u that… i already told u 2 much
WannaRace123: fine

I waited for him to say something else. He didn’t so I started doing other thing online. Then an instant message box popped up in the lower left hand corner of my screen telling me someone I’d received and instant message from someone.

WannaRace123: i cant believe ur not gonna be there… im gonna miss u
ClassicRockLuvr00: itll b fine… we’ll still c each other on the field… maybe ill come 2 1 if ur games
WannaRace123: it wont b the same
ClassicRockLuvr00: yeah i know… i gtg
WannaRace123: k ttyl
ClassicRockLuvr00: bye

I got off the internet and went to bed after that. I still couldn’t believe I’d told him as much as I did. Maybe everything will be okay. I mean, he was more sad than anything else it seemed, but I couldn’t tell since we were only on the computer. He has a pre-season scrimmage this weekend. Maybe I’ll be able to see him one more time since we won’t be seeing each other every day anymore. Maybe I’ll be able to see Chris. Maybe I’ll go. Maybe.

* * * * *

I made it through school the next couple of days. I actually made a few new friends. Overall, I think I did pretty well for my first week in public school. Luckily we started on a Wednesday, so it was only a 3-day week.

* * * * *

It’s Saturday now. I slept in till probably 10:00, which is pretty late for me considered I get up at about 8:00 on weekends.

“Hey Mom!” I shouted down the stairs.

“What?” she yelled back. I could smell the bacon sizzling on the stove and I slid down the railing.

“Can I go to the soccer field today?” I watched her flip a pancake. Bacon and Pancakes for breakfast, this is new. Well, not new. We used to have it a lot before, but not anymore.

“Why?” She turned around to size me up. I was wearing a pair of Adidas shorts and a shirt that said soccer on it.

“I want to watch a game.” I took a seat at the table and looked up at my mom. She had a few new wrinkles in her face, and her brown hair, a couple shades lighter than mine, was starting to gray a little. She claims she doesn’t want to get it dyed like all the other mothers did, but I could tell she was thinking about it.

“Who’s playing and what time?” I rolled my eyes. I can’t go anywhere without being interrogated first.

“Tom at 3. So can I go?”

She sighed and turned off the burner. “I don’t see why not, as long as you call us at half time to tell us when you think the game will be over so we can come pick you up,” she said and began putting the bacon on paper towels so they’d cool enough so we could eat them. I smiled and thanked her, asking when the pancakes would be ready. “Two minutes,” was her reply, “I made Josh the first ones, so you’ll probably have to wait a little longer.”

“But he always gets the first ones,” I whined. Josh is my older brother. I think someone must have died and made him King of the Universe or something. He can’t go one day without correcting me fifty times and he’s never wrong, no matter what. I could look at my watch and say that it said it was 2:00 and he’d so nope even if my watch really did say 2:00.

“Oh be quiet. He does not always get the first ones. You did last time.” She called for Josh to come to the kitchen and I watched him pour almost the entire bottle of maple syrup on his pancakes.

“Gross,” I said when he left. Older brothers can be so disgusting. When I got my pancakes I went to the play room and flipped on the TV. On Saturdays they normally have the Top 20 Video Countdown on VH1, so I hit 65 and there it was. It was on number 17, so I’d missed three of them. Oh well. I’ll see which ones they were when the top 10 comes around.

After breakfast I walked around the house, trying to waste time until 2:40 when I’d leave to go watch Chris and Tom. I was hoping the game would be exciting. I haven’t seen them play in a while, not since January. Now in August, I had no idea if they’d gotten better, worse or just stayed the same skill wise. I guess I’ll have to wait to find out.

* * * * *

Walking across the soccer field, I looked over at the benches. Chris saw me and waved, so did Tom. I waved back at both; I couldn’t really tell who I was waving at more, maybe Chris. The parents were standing on the opposite side of the field, so I walked around the goal and put down a chair next to Tom’s mother. She was one of the only parents I was relatively familiar with.

“Why hello Julie,” she said with a fake, plastered on smile.

“Hi Mrs. Conner.” I smiled politely back and unfolded my chair so I’d be able to sit in it.

“Are you excited about school coming up?” I heard her ask me. Crap, was the only thought that ran through my head.

“I’m uh…” I hesitated, but resolved on telling her the truth, “…I’m not going to the Academy and more.”

“Oh?” She said and I could vaguely see her eyebrows go up through her bleach blonde bangs. “Well why is that?” I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely interested, or if she just wanted to know personal information about me. I mean, I’d always been friendly enough with Mrs. Conner, but she seemed to not like me as much as some of Tom’s other friends. Maybe it was because we were really close and she found that threatening to her relationship with him, but I honestly couldn’t tell.

I bit my lip, not wanting to have another discussion like the previous one with her son. “It was getting really expensive, and my dad quit his job, so my parents wanted us to change schools.” I left out the details on why he quit his job and the fact that we can barely make ends meet now without paying tuition for all 3 of us to go to a private school.

“I see.”

She didn’t though. No one did.

She didn’t say anything else, but I could tell she was making her own conclusions in her head. I wish she hadn’t asked that question. No, I wish I could’ve just lied and said yes. It would’ve made things so much simpler. I wish I could’ve just said yes I was excited about school. It would’ve ended the conversation right there.

I got up to go get a Gatorade from the concession stand to get away from the eyes behind the sunglasses that always seemed to stray my way. Instead of going back to my chair, I stood at the end of the line of spectators.

The players were taking their positions on the field. I heard the whistle blow. Game time.

* * * * *

“You were awesome!” I shouted at Tom. He grinned at me.

“Too bad this is only a scrimmage, though,” he said. I nodded in agreement. His mom was coming up from behind him. He turned around. “I gotta go. Talk to you later, okay?”

“Alright,” I said. I watched him go, wondering when the next time I’d see him would be.

“Hey!” I turned around and there was Chris. “Good game, huh?”

“Yeah. You did really good too, ya know.”

“Thanks.” He smiled and I smiled back.

“I need you on my team! You’re a great left mid.” He shrugged, but I could tell he was blushing a little.

Then I remembered what time it was and that my dad was waiting for me in the car. “Gotta go. See you Monday.”

“See ya,” he called after me.

I hopped in the car, not saying anything to my dad but, “Can we listen to music?”

His response was, “Sure.” And then we sat in the car, not speaking a word to each other, just listening to the music. We weren’t being rude to each other; we just didn’t have anything to say.

* * * * *

After I ate my dinner, I watched a little TV and went on the computer. It was kind of a normal routine in my house. Everyone would eat dinner and then go do whatever they felt like until they had to go to bed.

I signed on AOL, putting in my password and waiting for the screen to load. I glanced over at my buddy list. Tom was on.

ClassicRockLuvr00: hey

I waited for Tom to say something back, but he didn’t. His away message wasn’t up, so maybe he had just gone to get a quick snack and bring it back to his computer. After about 5 minutes I got impatient.

ClassicRockLuvr00: u there?
WannaRace123: yeah… sry
ClassicRockLuvr00: its k
ClassicRockLuvr00: sup
WannaRace123: mom thinks ur “below us”

I stared at my computer screen. What in the world was he talking about? “Below them?” What was that all about?

ClassicRockLuvr00: ???
WannaRace123: did u tell her u were poor or sumthin
ClassicRockLurv00: no… y would i do that?
WannaRace123: idk shes just like i dont want u hangin out w/ that julie ne more
ClassicRockLuvr00: y
WannaRace123: she thinks ur family isnt good enough 4 us cuz u guys couldnt pay 4 private skool

I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to his mom. She did like me to begin with and we both knew it!

ClassicRockLuvr00: whatd u tell her
WannaRace123: i told her u guys were still the same ppl… and that there was nothing rong w/ u b4… but she doesnt care… she wont listen
WannaRace123: i g2g… she said if she caught me talking 2 u id get in trouble… she didnt say what kind… but she said she doesnt want me “fraternizing with the ‘low life’” she said itd hurt our image in the community or w/e
ClassicRockLuvr00: fine

I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I mean, “fraternizing with the low life”? I couldn’t believe she’d said that! All I did was tell her we couldn’t afford it. Apparently she’ll do anything to break apart me and Tom. Not to mention the fact that all she cares about is how much money you have and how much stuff.

WannaRace123: im sry
ClassicRockLuvr00: yeah? well me 2

I turned off the computer and bowed my head to hide the tears on my face as I walked by the family room where my parents were talking. Up the stairs and to the left was my room. I closed the door behind me and laid on my bed, face in my pillow. I couldn’t tell until I heard the squeaking of my bed that I was shaking.

The bathroom connected to my room was a few feet away from my bed. I got up and grabbed a tissue, and blew my nose. As I laid back on my bed and looked at the ceiling, I heard a faint knock at the door.

“Go away!” I shouted to whoever was on the other side. Apparently my response meant nothing. The door opened and my dad stepped in.

“Is everything alright?”

“No! Everything is not alright. You ruined my life!” I screamed and ran past him. I ran down the stairs, past my mom in the family room, and outside. Down my driveway and across the street. I had no idea where I was going. I just let my feet lead the way. I’d lost my best friend. I’d lost my school. I had to wear old shoes to school because we couldn’t afford new ones. I had cheap hotdogs and past for dinner every night. I had to wear old hand-me-downs from my cousins and clothes from the summer to school now because all my other clothes were too small.

I guess all those thoughts were what propelled me to go for as long as I went. Kids always dream about running away from home. This isn’t really what I planned, but I guess it counts for something.

I slowed down when I reached a park that I like to ride my bike to; it’s a few miles from my house. I’ve never actually run to it. I’m more of a sprinter and can’t really do long distance running, so it’s always been too far away for me to be able to run to it.

It was empty. A ghost town. Almost out of breath, I walked over to a tree and began to climb it. I found a branch to sit on and leaned against the trunk of the tree, my legs dangling down and gripping the branch so I wouldn’t fall off.

I closed my eyes and let out a few shaky breaths, willing myself not to cry. It didn’t work. Then tears came anyway. I could feel goosebumps forming on my arms and legs and the slight breeze didn’t do anything to help.

“Why is this happening to me?” I whisper, my eyes still closed. My cheeks were wet and cold from the tears. “Why me?” I bet many people ask that question when bad things happen to them. I mean, why does bad stuff ever happen to a specific person?

I wasn’t satisfied with any of the answers I gave myself, so I gave up on that question. But soon enough, a small memory started to creep its way forward from the back of my mind.

I was ten, maybe eleven. I was at tennis camp. Some rusted Ford pick-up pulled up and from the other side of the rusted barbed wire fence, my fellow campers and I could see a girl of about my age hop out of the car. She had a smile on her face as she held her tennis racket against her shoulder and made her way to the courts. Stepping through the gate, she made her way over to our group, but not without a goodbye wave to her mom.

A couple snickers came from the crowd of people, including a few from myself. The girl was wearing a white tennis skirt 5 times too big for her. It had splotches of dirt on it and was torn in places. That wasn’t even the half of it though. I can still picture the navy polo shirt she was wearing that was too big all over. If she’d untucked it, it would’ve been past her knees. Her shoes were the only thing that seemed to fit her properly, but even they had hole in them.

I remember making fun of her with my friends. I remember saying how poor she must be that she had to grow into all her clothes. We didn’t even know her, yet we made fun of her.

I guess it’s like that saying “what comes around, goes around”. Or maybe its “what goes around, comes around”. I don’t know. But maybe I’m on the other side now. Maybe it’s gotten around to me. Maybe it’s my turn to be made fun of.

I was in the middle of trying to answer my own questions when I looked down and saw my dad staring up at me.

“What do you want?” I said, not too kindly.

“I just want to talk,” was his reply. “What happened?”

I was quiet for a long time. I couldn’t put my thoughts into words. How could I start to tell him what had happened? How could I tell him I’d just lost my best friend because of, I a way, something he’d made happen? As mad at him as I was, I couldn’t blame everything on him. Even if I really wanted to.

I finally thought of something to say though. “Have you ever lost your best friend?”

“Yes, I have. Why?”

“Today, at the field, Tom mom asked me if I was excited about school starting up again.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her I couldn’t go to private school because it was getting too expensive for all 3 of us to be able to attend. That’s all I said.”

“And?”

“And now she doesn’t want Tom to be around me anymore because she thinks we’re below her.” I pulled up my legs and put the soles of my feet on the branch, hugging my knees to my chest, my chin resting on top of them.

“So now you’ve lost your best friend?”

“How else would you say it? I mean, he said he had to go because his mom would punish him if she caught us talking.” I seemed to have gotten over my sadness, and now I was just mad. Mad at my dad. Mad at Tom. Mad at his mom. Mad at everything and everyone.

“I’m sorry for ruining your life then.” I looked down at him from my perch in the tree. There were new lines on his forehead. Deeper and more pronounced. There were circle under his eyes as well. I could tell I’d hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I just…” I let a puff of air out my nose and tried to come up with the words to finish my sentence. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I think you did.” He thought right. I did mean it. I can lie to myself all I want, but in the end it’s all the same. I blamed him. “I don’t know what I can say to make you better. There isn’t anything I can say. But will you at least come home? Your mother is worried sick. Will you come home? For her at least?”

I didn’t say anything. I just started to make my way to the soft grass at the bottom of the tree. I walked with him in silence to the car and got in the passenger seat. He got in as well and started the car. Van Morrison was playing. Brown Eyed Girl was the title of the song. I was looking out the window, but I could see from his reflection that he was looking at me.

I ignored it, pretending I didn’t notice that our song was playing. The ride home was short, just a few minutes, but in such a heavy silence, it seemed to take forever.

* * * * *

I ignored my dad all Sunday, saying as little as possible to everyone. Monday came around and it was time to start school again. I made it through homeroom by staring at the clock and counting the minutes. When the bell rang to dismiss us, I moved my book over to my first period desk.

Chris came in and took his seat next to me. “Have a good weekend?” he asked. He always seemed to smile, his blue eyes shining like little pieces of the sky.

I smiled too. It was contagious. His smile made me smile. “Not really, I think this week’s going to be a good one.”

I don’t know how he took what I’d said, but he seemed to take it in a good way. He squeezed my hand lightly and let go. “That’s good.” he said. We talked a little more until the bell rang for class to begin.

I wasn’t really focused in class, though. I kept on thinking about the event of the past weekend. But all of a sudden, I stopped thinking about it. I looked into my future. Although it wasn’t very clear, I still could see friends in it. Chris, Courtney, and some of the other people I’d met.

Maybe my life wasn’t ruined after all.