Ten Things

Ch.9-I Want to Like You

Grace

“Are you sure you’re well enough to go to school today?”

“Yes, Mom,” I replied softly, pulling on a sweater and catching a peek of myself in the mirror. My cheeks had retained a bit more color, and though I still felt a bout of nausea, it wouldn’t go away overnight so I might as well just go to school. I had already missed a day.

“Grace, I—I’m sorry, for the way I’ve been acting the past few days.”

I glanced at her through the mirror, braiding my hair over my shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I just—it’s not easy for me, talking about it.”

That was obvious. She couldn’t even call it what it was. “I understand.” I peered at the wall clock. “I have to get some breakfast now.”

“Alright.” She was wringing her hands nervously in front of her. I spared her a soft smile and left the room in my beige flats, making not a sound on the carpet.

The house was quiet, my dad having already left for work. I found some cereal and a bowl and collapsed in a chair at the kitchen table, not sure how I would make it through the day. I was in for a really bad week, I knew it. They liked to switch off between excellent and absolutely horrendous.

I pulled on my backpack and left the house after only a few bites of cereal. It made my stomach churn and I wasn’t interested in throwing up all over the place at school, so an empty stomach was better than a sloshing stomach. Luckily the weather was nice outside, too, so at least the sun felt pleasant on my skin during the walk to school.

I was only about two minutes into the walk when I heard the rumbling of an engine behind me. I turned, a beat-up truck rolling to a stop. The window lowered and Tiffany’s bright pink hair popped out. “Hey, stranger,” she smiled. “Need a ride?”

I grinned, glad the day was beginning to look up. “Thank you,” I said, walking around the front and sliding into the passenger seat. I buckled myself in and she started on down the road.

“So where ya been?”

“Sick,” I replied. She nodded. “How are you?”

She laughed. “You’re so polite, Halo.”

“Halo?”

“Yep.” She drummed her black fingernails against the steering wheel. “Your hair just seems to glow. Like it’s holy. Like you should have a halo.”

“Interesting.”

“I know. You walk to school every day?”

“Yes.”

“This is a dangerous road, Halo. Don’t you have a car?”

“No.”

“Your license?”

“No.”

She gaped at me, a disbelieving laugh escaping her lips. “Are you serious? What kind of a teenager are you?”

She was joking, but still . . . I was always led to believe I wouldn’t live long enough to attain my driver’s license. It was a luxury my parent’s never considered, and something they had basically pushed to the backs of their minds. Anyways, it wasn’t exactly on the top of my priority list to bring up. “Obviously not a normal one,” I sighed.

She pulled into the student parking lot, still laughing. “Clearly. But that’s why I like you so much! Everybody else at Heart is so . . . I don’t know . . . predictable.”