My Mother and Ava Summerfield

One

The day after my brother turned eighteen was the day that my mother packed a bag of clothes, drove off to work in the morning, and never came back. Fletcher and I went to the police, but nothing was ever found. They marked it as abandonment and closed the case which has been collecting dust for five years. In my mother's desk drawer, they found papers that looked like a will. She left us the house and all the money in her bank account. She also made Fletcher my legal guardian.

"Jayden?" Fletcher asks, pulling me out of my memories.

"Hm?"

"Are you ready for your first day of high school?" We are sitting in my brother's car outside the school.

I take a deep breath and the butterflies in my stomach return. I nod and open the car door. I don't know any of the people that are going here from middle school. My best friend, Henry, moved to his dad's house in Nevada over the summer and my other friend, Cherry, is going to the all girls catholic school in the next town over.

I feel the panic rise in my throat as I heave my backpack onto my shoulder. I look back at my brother. He gives me a reassuring smile. "Call me if you need me."

"Okay." I close the car door and watch Fletcher drive away. After Mom left and he became responsible for me his school work fell away and he had to repeat his senior year. Now he is attending the local college part time and studying to be a social worker.

A sign that reads: FRESHMEN SIGN IN hangs above a desk in the front office.

"Hello, my name is Shannon Carter." The girl behind the desk says in an excited, high- pitched voice. Her hair is a dyed blonde and her face looks like it has been molded into a smile for too many hours.

"Hi," I say, my words quieter than I expected.

"What is your name?" She asks.

"Jayden Thaddeus."

She repeats my last name as she flips through papers. "Here we are, Jayden Thaddeus" Shannon says as she pulls a packet of papers and hands them to me and marks my name off the list.

"Thanks," I say walking away from the table. I hear her start the routine again with the next person.

I skim through the packet. There is a school map, my schedule, a pink piece of paper with a locker number and combination, a list of clubs, sports, and other after-school activities. I check my watch. It's 7:48.

I walk through the halls searching for locker number 154. Groups of friends line the walls as they reunite after the summer. Other nervous freshmen crane their necks looking for people they know.

151, 152, 153, I count in my head as I scan the numbers on the silver plates on the old, rusted, blue lockers. A couple is leaning against the locker between 153 and 155. Great, I think."Excuse me." I squeak. I roll my eyes at myself. What was that? I clear my throat and try again. "Excuse me, please, that's my locker." They don't look at me just move over in front of another poor guy's locker.

I look back at the pink paper and turn the dial, 17, 21, 6. I unload empty binders and packages of paper into my locker. I only save what I will need for my first period English class, a spiral notebook, and a black, ballpoint pen. I shut my locker door and look around. What am I suppose to do for the next nine minutes?

I opt for the outside courtyard. All of the picnic tables are crowded and the small groups of friends standing force me to weave in and out to find a place to fit. I finally spot an empty bench. I set my bag down next to me and pull out the map of the school. I run my eyes over the fuzzy, black and white paper. This is pointless. I can't see anything.

"Pst!" I look up. What was that? "Hey you." I see a girl a few feet away looking at me.

"Me?" I ask.

"Yes, you. Come here."

"Why?"

She shakes her head and walks towards me. She grabs my wrist and pulls me up from the bench and away from the tree so hard that I barely have time to pick up my backpack. I jerk my arm away.

"What was that for?" I ask.

"Sorry, I was trying to help."

"Hm?" I am confused.

"We don't use that bench. It's a memorial to some students that died a few years ago."

"Oh, wow," I say, not knowing how else to respond.

"It's not against school rules or anything you just don't want to be known as the guy who sits on the memorial bench."

"Thanks, I guess," I say, still puzzled.

"Ava, Ava Summerfield." She says holding out a small hand with long fingers.

I take it. "Jayden Thaddeus."

There is a loud ringing sound that echoes throughout the school.

"That's the bell. It was nice to meet you." She says with a friendly smile. She turns and starts to make her way back to the building.

I look down at the map of the school. Shit. "Ava," I call out running after her.

"Where am I going?" I ask holding out my schedule for her to see.

"I'm headed that way. Follow me."

We walk into the school and down some stairs. This school is so much bigger than my last one. I lose track of the turns that we take.

"Are you a freshman?" She asks as we descend another set of stairs.

"Yeah, are you?"

"No, I'm a sophomore." I nod as the conversation comes to a dead end. We stop at the bottom of the stairs. "Your class is right around the corner." She says, pointing down the hall.

"Thanks again," I say.

She gives me a small wave, "See you in third period."

Third period? I look at my schedule. We have Spanish 1 together.