What Is Left Behind

TWO

Being the youngest child, I am always known for being my siblings' little sister. If you would have asked me about that last year, I would have gotten upset and said I am my own person, but this year maybe I will be okay with it. Because this year I'm just Wells' little sister.

Walking into school two weeks and two days late everyone stares, or at least I think they are staring. My dad says I believe even the trees are watching me, which I say, but they are. I can hear whispers and maybe they aren't about me, but my mind tells me they are. A few familiar faces smile as I walk by, and some say hi. I can see the pity behind their kindness.

I imagine there is a little gray cloud over my head. It doesn't look threatening or scary, just sad. One that looks heavy and full of rain. At any moment it'll let go and pour. Everyone watching it knows it could happen at any time now, but I won't let it happen.

"Finally, here to join me suffering?" I heard a familiar voice ask.

Leaning against my locker, was a girl wearing sweats and an old, baggy Miami Dolphins shirt. She'll come to school like a homeless kid one day then come to school dressed like she will walk a runway right after school the next. Uncaring at the fact of what anyone will say about her, because that is just her. Confidence oozed off her like honey from a honeycomb. Sweet and sticky. She knew she was being watched by everyone.

Isadora Hernandez was tall for the age of fifteen standing at 5 '7 already. She was well toned due to doing cheer since middle school. Her height this year made her change from a flyer, to being the girl that lifts everyone. She was mainly known for her long oil black hair that shined in the light and always smelled like coconuts.

This girl was gorgeous in every way I wanted to be.

She has been my best friend since we were ten when she moved into the Whitford family farm. If someone knew how I felt, maybe Isadora would be that person. Even if she did not understand, she would just join me in the rain with an umbrella, because that's who she is.

"School is not all that bad." I said pushing her off my locker so I can open it.

"So, you aren't with me?"

I looked over at my best friend with a knowing smile, "I'm always with you."

"Good, because I've missed you."

Aside from a few texts and late-night calls, I haven't really reached out to her since my family's accident. Isadora was the first person I told after it happened. Running all the way to her house outside of town and right into her cozy room.

But at the end of the day how do you comfort someone who has gone through something unimaginable?

"So, how is Wells?" Isadora asked as I closed my locker.

"He's Wells, you know how he gets."

I linked my arm through hers and we took off down the hallway together. Now when everyone stared, I imagined they were staring at the beautiful girl beside me, not at me. 

Around Isadora I felt confident. Which is why I clung to her in a public setting, without her I felt out of place. Like everyone looked at me and wonder why the littlest Black kid was there. If I was old enough to even go to a party. Isadora tells me I over think it, and if that was true, I couldn't help it.

"Anything new happened while I was gone?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the eyes watching me.

"Let's see..." Isadora thought for a moment before nodding to herself. "New girl came to school. She is Sloane Beauregard's cousin, and I swear every guy is obsessed with her. My cousins included."