Why Me?

A Strong Vanilla Scent

                                                                                               

Stella

Today marks day one of the second semester. My schedule is pretty great this semester. AP US history, Math (one year ahead), Honours English, AP Spanish. As I'm reading Dune while waiting for the teacher to finally call everyone's attention I hear the sound of people laughing cheerfully. The bliss of the first day. I can't help but get excited. This semester will be great.

My English teacher taught me science in grade 8. My old friend and I were like her daughters. Two years later and she's still a mother figure to me. Part of a mom's job is to annoy her children. Good thing Mrs. Harris isn't new to this.

"Everyone, share one thing you did on Christmas break." The worst question ever. I hate sharing personal details about my life. To make matters worse, I was the third person to have to share since I'm in the front and centre of the classroom. First, some guy named Jacob told us about his vacation to Hawaii. Next, some girl named Vanessa went up, and she talked about getting a car for Christmas. We can't even legally drive yet.

Does this class only have rich kids? I mean, it is a private school, but...

Now it's my turn, and I haven't prepared anything to say. Uh oh, I'm starting to space out.

"Ms. Harper, are you there?" I hear people snickering behind me. I bet one of them is him. What a bunch of jerks.

"Yes, I'm here, sorry." I freeze, trying to calm myself down. "This winter break I read a bunch of different books." That's all I could think to say. I hate school. The thought of having to share my personal life with people who are so quick to judge me makes me want to scream.

As I was getting lost in thought again Mrs. Harris decided to say "Oh, lovely! What type of books?" I couldn't even respond anymore, so I just raised Dune up off of my desk and showed it to her. "That's a classic! Great choice!" I smiled weakly and I think she got the message.

There are 20 minutes left of class and only a few people have to share about Christmas break now. People have mainly talked about vacations and expensive presents. Sometimes I forget this school's in a rich neighbourhood. I recognize the next person up; his name's Oliver. I've known him since I was a toddler, and throughout all of high school he has had the second-best grades in our year, after me of course.

"I also read a lot of books this Christmas break." Wakes me up from my daydreaming. No, I was not daydreaming about him. I would never daydream about Oliver. He's just the second smartest kid in our grade who's friends with Henry Astors, the super star quarterback of our football team and the father of some famous french athlete that I couldn't care less about.

Wait... I remember what he said. Is he mocking me? I look back at him and he's staring right at me with a small smirk on his face. What does he want? I'm surprised he hasn't commented on all his exam marks yet. I guess he is quiet when we're with others. If only they saw his true colours...

The last few people go and now it's time for Mrs. Harris to explain the first assignment. "The first project of this year will be a get to know you assignment. You have to pick a partner who you don't know very well, and you'll be expected to write an essay about them with a maximum of 2000 words."

A max of 2000 words? I don't even have enough words to write about myself, let alone some person I don't know. It wouldn't be difficult if the topic was anything else. My sister said Honours English was an "easy A." She is the child prodigy, after all.

Everyone starts picking an acquaintance but I'm just drawing a blank

"You have to pick a partner by the end of the day or I'll have to pick one for you." Times like this are the only times I wish I had a friend.

"Stella." I look up to see Oliver glaring down at me with his piercing amber eyes.

Yes?" I reply.

"Want to be my partner for the English assignment?"

"Sure." This is going to be a long assignment.

I decide to carry on with the rest of my day ignoring the fact that I have to do an assignment with Oliver Almeida. Thinking about him makes me shiver.

The bell rings just as I'm leaving AP Spanish, and all I can think is,"Finally, it's home time." I might even be smiling a little. My slight smile fades as I walk by the grade 12s. It's just my luck that my locker ended up being near a bunch of popular guys. I pass by Jace's shoes and I think he smiles at me, so I nod back. He's only nice to me cause he's dating my sister Nora, so no, he doesn't count as a friend.

I get to my locker and put all my textbooks back. I put on my hat, scarf, coat, and bag and I start to head out. I never look up while I'm walking; I'm afraid people will be looking at me. I've actually gotten good at navigating the halls just by looking at people's shoes. Nothing bad has ever happened...

BANG!

I've bumped into someone. I go to grab my hat that fell quickly. I can feel my cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. I can't even look up at him. I mumble an apology and start speed walking out of the building. Luckily, he never says anything and I'll never have to know who that was. As I'm walking away I can still smell the warm, vanilla smell from some tall, male I'll never know the name of.

Wow, there's more snow than I expected. It must be at least 5 cm deep. It's too cold to loiter around today. I'll just go home right away. Maybe Carson didn't drink today.

I'm finally home after 15 minutes of freezing. I hear the TV playing; that's the first sign. I take one deep breath before walking in. I peek into the living room to see Carson asleep with a bottle of whiskey in his lap. Thank god, I don't think I could handle him today.

I turn around to leave when I see one of my mom's paintings. The most beautiful field of lilies with a pastel sunset in the background. I wish I knew where this was. If only I could ask her. While I'm staring deeply at the sunset I see red. Blood. My mom on the rough pavement of a broken road. All because of me, and my stupid piano competition. If only I could have woken up 10 minutes earlier, she'd be awake.

One year ago yesterday, my mom got into a car accident. We were late to my piano competition so she sped. It was winter, the roads were slippery, but I made her speed. Ever since that day, she's been in a coma. The doctors don't think she'll recover. She saved up money for years to buy that car, and I ruined it all in less than an hour.

I look at my watch. It's 3:10 pm – time to shower. As I'm scrubbing my body, I notice I've lost weight... again. I can't be over 100 pounds at this point. I'm too scared to go downstairs most nights, so I usually just eat lunch at school, plus maybe a tea and muffin if I go to a coffee shop on my way to work. I've gotten pretty weak too, since all of my muscles have gone.

I tell myself to stop thinking about it and turn off the shower. It's about 3:45 now, so I have about 5 hours left before I have to go to bed. If my lights aren't off by 9:00, Carson will hit me with his belt. Luckily, I'm a quick learner, so that hasn't happened for a couple of months... At least, not for my bedtime.

The next day

I wake up to the sound of my alarm at 6:00 am sharp. Does school start in two hours? Yes. Am I still scared of being late? Absolutely.

I try to avoid Carson to the best of my ability as I tiptoe to the door. Making any noise may lead to the unimaginable. He might be one of the laziest people I know, yet he never fails to wake up at 7:40 am to try and catch me on the way out.

As you know, my dad is someone I would like to avoid to the best of my ability. I leave my house by 7:00 am sharp. He wouldn't wake up at 7:00 am, even to demean me. That's how I make it through the whole day without having a mental breakdown. My school's campus opens at 7:15 for the teachers to prepare, but class doesn't start until 8:00 am.

Okay, I'm finally ready to leave. It's 6:55 am. Perfect. I should eat, but I'm not really hungry... It's fine. I'll just eat something at school.

"Oh, Sh*t!" I forgot about that dumb assignment I have to do with Oliver. He's going to think I'm stupid. Just like when he scored a higher mark on our AP math exam. What am I going to tell him about me? He's not going to believe it anyway. "Stella the stuck up brat with no friends has trauma?" As a matter of fact, what am I going to ask him?