Just a Matter of Time

Elisha

15 years ago

Sitting in my room, I packed my bag for school, feeling a mix of nerves and indifference. It was my first day of high school, and while I knew it was supposed to be a big deal, I couldn't bring myself to care much. Everyone else seemed more excited than me—my friends had been talking non-stop about all the new things we'd get to do, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was just another day.

Once my bag was packed, I walked over to the window and looked out toward Amara's house. Her window was still closed, and I smirked to myself. That could only mean one of two things: either she had overslept, or she was rushing around like a maniac to get ready. Knowing Amara, it was probably the latter. She always had a habit of cutting things close, thinking she had more time than she actually did.

With a sigh, I headed downstairs to an empty house. The silence was almost comforting at this point, familiar in a way that felt like an old, worn-out shoe. My parents were probably already gone, too busy with their own lives to notice my first day of high school. As I entered the dining room, I spotted a lone post-it note stuck to the table. I picked it up, reading my mom's familiar handwriting:

"Have a good first day. Love, Mom."

I stared at the note for a moment, my face expressionless. No surprise there. They'd said they might be around for breakfast, but I hadn't counted on it. The truth was, they hadn't been all that invested in my life for a while now, more focused on their careers than on anything happening in this house. I couldn't even remember the last time we'd had a proper family dinner.

Sighing, I crumpled up the note and tossed it in the trash. No point in pretending like it mattered. As I opened the front door, I glanced back once more, half-hoping to hear a car pulling up, someone calling my name, anything that suggested they remembered what day it was.

But there was nothing. Just silence.

Shaking my head, I stepped outside and made my way across the lawn to Amara's house. Her family had always treated me like one of their own, and it was comforting to know I could at least count on a decent breakfast.

I rang the doorbell and waited, hearing the familiar sounds of chaos from inside—pots clanging, voices shouting. A small smile tugged at my lips. It was the usual morning madness in the Williams household.

A moment later, Mrs. Williams opened the door, her face lighting up when she saw me. "Elisha! Come on in, sweetie. Breakfast is almost ready."

"Thanks, Mrs. Williams," I said, stepping inside. The smell of pancakes and bacon filled the air, and my stomach growled in response. "Is Amara up yet?"

She rolled her eyes, a fond smile on her face. "Barely. You know how she is. Always running late." She motioned toward the stairs. "Go on up and make sure she's not falling back asleep. I swear, that girl would be late to her own wedding if she could."

I laughed, heading up the stairs to Amara's room. As I approached her door, I could hear her rushing around, muttering to herself about where she'd left her shoes. I knocked lightly and pushed the door open.

"Need a hand?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Amara looked up, a hairbrush in one hand and a shoe in the other. Her hair was half-tamed, and she had a wild look in her eyes. "Elisha!" she exclaimed, relief washing over her face. "Yes, please! I can't find my other shoe, and I'm going to be late!"

I chuckled, stepping into the room. "Relax, I'll help you look." As I scanned the floor, I felt a strange sense of calm settle over me.

"I swear I set my alarm for 6 a.m. and still woke up late," Amara rambled, tossing clothes around as if she were digging for treasure.