Lost and Found

Chapter Six

The only good thing about precalculus, was that my best friend Hannah was in it with me. Otherwise, I would either fall asleep, or fail the class. The second outcome being caused by the first. I got there thirty seconds after the bell, and slid into my seat before my neanderthal of a teacher could turn around. Hannah raised an eyebrow, when I slammed my book down so hard the desk rattled.

"Hey, what's up?" She asked.

Hannah and I had been best friends since the third grade. I didn't dare call my life hard around her. Her mom split when she was three, and her dad, a drunk and too religious man, either disappeared for weeks on end, or when he was home, abused her. Hannah, spent most of her childhood at her relative's houses, the most common being her grandmother Lilian's. But when her grandmother passed away when she was ten, she'd been sent back to her dad's. But she was one of those people, to never talk about things that affected her. With a life like her's, I didn't want to tell her about everything with me. I'd tried to be her protector for years, and I didn't need her to be mine.

"Nothing much, did you do the homework?" I asked, because I certainly I hadn't. She nodded, sliding me the page.

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I slogged through the rest of the day, scrawling down notes and feeling like a sorry sack of shit. Cheer practice, I also slogged through, I'd known the chants and the rally's for years, this was just another one. We had our practice, the same the the football players had theirs. I caught sight of Jacob, as we ran laps. I slowed, just as he did. We stood there, across from each other, eyes locked. Fuck you. I mouthed, before I started running again.

I remembered meeting Jacob, it was at practice that we'd met. Just in a situation like this, seeing each other and slowing down, but not stopping. From across the track, he'd mouthed to me Hey, and I mouthed back. Afterword, he'd came up to me, while everyone was drinking gatorade and catching there breath, from there it had been a whirlwind. Until now. Now, after practice while drinking gatorade, I did everything I could to ignore him.

"Aaliyah." A voice said from behind me. I turned around. There he was, running a hand through his black hair. I glared.

"What?" I asked, throwing away my cup. He took two steps toward me, I took two steps back. Accurate summary, of our relationship. I put up my hands, the international sign for: go the fuck away.

"I'm sorry." He said.

It was then I got a good look at him. he looked exhausted. Maybe from practice, maybe from his life, it wasn't my place to ask anymore. There were bags under his eyes, his hair looked greasy. What I said next, was the closest thing to me getting closure, for something I would never say out aloud.

"Me too."

What I really meant was, "I'm sorry for blaming this all on you. I'm sorry for sleeping with your brother, when I wanted it be you. I'm sorry I hate Millie for being a better person than I'll ever be."

Instead, I left it at that. Walking in a straight line towards the bleachers, I slung my bag over my shoulder. I walked, like a soldier to my car. It had been a long day, and I was supposed to be home for dinner. But instead, I pulled my car onto the highway and drove out "River Road" till I came to the park shrouded in trees. I opened my glove compartment, to reveal the half empty pack of cigarettes I had bought a week ago. I pulled one from the pack, and fished around in old gum wrappers for a lighter. I rolled down the window, and took a long drag. My phone chimed with a notification. My chemistry grades had been posted. I almost dropped my cigarette. When I saw the little red f, on my screen, I did drop my cigarette.

"Fuck, Fuck." I muttered, dropping my phone before I burned a whole through my cheer uniform, which I was still wearing. In pulled off the uniform, and pulled on my leggings and sweatshirt from earlier, I also took my hair out of it's ponytail, and extinguished my cigarette. All before my mother texted me.