The morning sun filtered through my curtains, casting a warm glow on the walls of my room. I squinted at the clock; it was later than I'd planned. Great—first day of senior year, and I was already behind. I threw on my favorite oversized sweater and jeans, hoping they'd disguise the anxiety twisting in my stomach.
As I hurried down the stairs, the familiar sounds of my mom bustling around in the kitchen soothed me a little. "Mia, don't forget your lunch!" she called, her voice laced with the same mix of excitement and worry that had become our routine lately. I grabbed the brown paper bag and took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead.
The school building loomed as I approached, the sharp edges of its brick walls matching the sharp pang of nerves in my chest. Crowds of students swarmed the entrance, laughter and chatter blending into a chaotic symphony. I spotted a few familiar faces—my best friend, Tara, and the popular girls I used to hang out with—but they felt like distant memories now. The last few months had changed everything.
Once inside, I navigated through the hallways, dodging backpacks and scattered papers. The walls were plastered with posters for clubs and activities, reminders of all the things I used to love. I paused at my locker, fingers trembling as I twisted the combination lock. The familiar clank was oddly comforting, but the weight of my secret pressed down hard.
"Hey, Mia!" Tara's voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to see her waving from a few lockers down. She looked radiant, her summer tan glowing in the fluorescent lights. I forced a smile, trying to match her enthusiasm, but inside, I felt like a stranger in my own life.
"Hey!" I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. She rushed over, her arms opening wide for a hug. I embraced her tightly, letting the warmth seep in, if only for a moment.
"How was your summer?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. I hesitated, the weight of my reality threatening to spill over. "It was... different," I said carefully, choosing my words. "How about you?"
We chatted as we made our way to our first class, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn't shake the feeling that everyone around me was oblivious to the storm brewing beneath my surface. With every laugh and smile, I felt the chasm between my old life and the new one growing wider.
As I settled into my seat in English, I glanced around the classroom, taking in the faces of my classmates. I wondered if anyone else was hiding something, something that made the normalcy of school feel like a façade. The teacher began the lesson, but my thoughts drifted to the future—what it would hold for me, and how I would navigate the uncertain path ahead.
With each tick of the clock, I felt time slipping away, reminding me that soon enough, I would have to face the reality of my situation. But for now, I focused on the words on the board, hoping to blend in just a little longer.
YOU ARE READING
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Teen FictionIn a small town, 16-year-old Mia discovers she's pregnant and grapples with the challenges of her changing future while navigating her strained relationships with family and friends. As she seeks support and finds her voice, Mia learns about resilie...
