Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind - Treebros

Chapter 9: "A Secret From Myself"

Wednesday, October 17th

The lunch table is uncharacteristically quiet. Neither Connor or I are speaking, and the seats across from us are empty. It's weird. I've gotten so used to Alana and sometimes Jared sitting with us.

Connor groans, and caps his pen. He'd been doodling across my cast for the past 20 minutes, and I'd had to tuck my arm into my chest to stop him from drawing on it while we walked. It's now adorned with flowers and trees and leaves. Which is a shame because I'm getting it off Friday.

"Where d'ya think she is?" he asks, spinning the pen around on the table, barely keeping it from falling onto the floor.

"Hm?" I startle, pulled out of my contemplation. I'd been trying to figure out how many fries I could steal before Connor noticed.

"Alana. She's usually here by now," he says gesturing to the empty seats.

"I don't think she's here today. She sits next to me in Environmental Science but she was absent," I say, reaching for a fry. I'm only met with a feeble swat, meant to tease not fend off.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

We fall back into silence. Someone across the cafeteria laughs loudly.

"Kleinman doesn't usually bother us unless Alana's here, so we have the whole place to ourselves today," Connor comments. Probably just to say something. The silence isn't uncomfortable, just unusual.

"And by place you mean table," I sigh.

"Yep," he says, wringing his hoodie strings. I steal another fry, but he either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I fumble for it, cast in the way.

It's from Mom. No surprise there. She's the only person who ever texts me, besides Connor and Jared. And Dad, the 4 times a year he remembers he has another son.

Mom: Hey honey! I had to take another overnight to cover for someone and I still have class this afternoon, so I won't be back until you've already left for school. I found some more scholarship essays though! I printed and left them on your bed for when you want to look at them. Application deadlines are soon!

A disappointed noise echoes from deep in my throat. Of course. She either forgot that we had plans, or she didn't care.

"What?" Connor asks, sounding more curious than worried.

"Just my mom. We were supposed to go over scholarship essays or whatever tonight, but she picked up another shift," I explain, trying to keep the dismay out of my voice. It shouldn't bother me as much as it does. I shouldn't be upset because I knew this would happen. It always happens.

"Oh. What are your plans for college? You look like someone who's extensively planned everything they do past high school," Connor asks. I'm glad for the change of subject, even if it still reminds me of my mom.

"Funny. Um, I want to get into University of Rochester. That's my ideal school. It has a terrific environmental science program. But it's so expensive, even if I commute, and the acceptance rate isn't that high. So I might just end up going to Nazareth or Rochester Institute. Or even go to Monroe for a year to get credit," I detail. Connor just snickers.

"I was right. You have extensively planned what you do past college. It's just dismal."

"Yeah," I whisper. It just feels so hard to genuinely think that I'm going to succeed after this year. "What about you? What are your plans for college? Assuming you go," I ask.