After experiencing a life-altering tragedy, Emersyn feels as if her world has collapsed. Attempting to accept her new reality, Emersyn wonders how she can possibly keep going when it feels like her life ended months ago. Until she meets Haven, and s...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The new school is much bigger than any I've been to in the past.
It looks like the school buildings you see filmed in movies, all brick and shiny windows and large steps. I'm jittery as I take in the view from the passenger seat, my insides cluttered with nerves. I'm used to things on a much smaller scale–a tiny town, cramped school buildings, the kind of place where everyone knows everyone. This is much, much different.
I figured I'd be riding a bus, but Mom offered to drop me off. So I sit in the passenger seat and stare at the large building before me in horror, trying not to reveal how conflicted I'm feeling to my mother.
"Don't be nervous," Mom says, as if reading my mind. "It'll be fun! A whole bunch of new people to meet!"
I swallow hard. "That's what I'm nervous about," I mutter dryly.
Mom ruffles my hair. She has been oddly affectionate this morning. "You're so beautiful. You got your father's looks. The boys will be all over you. The girls too." Mom smirks in the accomplished way she always does when mentioning my bisexuality. She's always been supportive of me in that way, so it's not a weird thing for her to comment on. What is weird is to hear her mention Dad so passively when she refused to utter his name for months.
It's somewhat nice to hear her talking about him again.
I tell Mom bye and somehow find the courage to climb out of the car. The second I step foot onto school grounds I want to turn back around, to run to my mother the same way I did the first day of preschool and refuse to leave her side. Whirling around on my feet, I find Mom is already pulling out of the driveway.
I inhale a deep breath, frozen in place as I stare ahead, heart pounding in my chest. Small clusters of students socialize around me, while others exit cars or climb the steps and enter the building. I grip the straps of my bookbag tightly, trying to act as if I belong. As if I could ever fit into a place like this.
The schedule the school mailed me is folded up into my back pocket. I reach for it as my feet begin to move of their own accord, leading me forward against my will. I'm soon standing on the front steps and tugging open a heavy wooden door, gazing around in shock at the scenery around me. Navy lockers line the walls, the space illuminated by fluorescent lights, the tiles beneath my feet so white they appear new.
I feel lost, stranded in a sea of students who seem to move with purpose around me. I eye my schedule, noting that my first period is located in room 204. I roam the halls for a few brief minutes until I locate the correct hallway, then make my way to first period. When I enter the class, I note that it's practically empty. I must be early. I don't recall hearing a bell ring. While all the desks are relatively isolated, I select one hidden away in the back and keep my head down, face shadowed behind a curtain of dark hair.
The bell finally rings, a shrill sound that makes me flinch. The silence around me is broken by a herd of students outside of the room, speaking amongst themselves as they filter into classes. The emptiness around me is slowly flooded by newcomers, leaving me on edge. Back home, I was never anxious like this. I knew everybody. I had friends. I fit in; I knew my place and where I stood. Here, I know nothing and no one. I hate change, I hate not knowing where I fit, I hate the feeling of estrangement coursing through my veins.
