Safe (Rewritten)

Wonderwall

"Maybe,

You're gonna be the one

That saves me."

  - Oasis,

Wonderwall

"You look cute today," Ella comments as she plops down in the seat beside me. It's seventh hour physics and to be honest, I'm ready to fall asleep and class hasn't even started.

I cock an eyebrow and look down at my outfit. I'm wearing black jeans today and my most beloved pair of combat boots. I didn't have a clean hoodie today, so I settled on a thick, navy blue thermal top. Long sleeved, of course. I don't get how I look any better than usual.

"Your hair," she smiles. "You should put it up more often."

I reach up and tug on the end of my ponytail. I don't know what prompted me to put it up, I never do. But when I did, I looked in the mirror and actually almost smiled.

Ella starts drumming her fingers on the edge of the desk, making a little beat. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

It's an outright question and I don't think there's any getting around it. "I don't know."

She grins. "Any family coming down? My mom's flying out to see her family and Dad will be working."

"Why don't you go with your mom?" I raise an eyebrow.

Ella sighs. "My mother is the devil. The less time I have to spend around that woman, the better."

"You'll be all alone," I frown.

She shrugs. "Nothing new. But what are your plans?"

"You should come to mine for Thanksgiving," I blurt. Almost immediately, I want to take it back. My family would pounce on the small evidence of life and probably make her never want to talk to me again. A few weeks ago, I would have been okay with it. But several weeks of Ella's mostly one-sided conversation have made me feel the urge to keep her around.

She chews on her lip. "Wouldn't it be an inconvenience? It's a family holiday. I'm not family."

Okay, no. It doesn't matter that I'm a hermit and that I'll be just as silent with her there or not. She doesn't deserve to be alone on a holiday. "Don't be stupid. I'd love it." Don't I have a way with words?

Ella smiles. "Maybe,"

After school, I retreat to my quiet corner in the library. We finished The Scarlet Letter, which means that a summary will be due in the next few weeks or so. I like to be ahead so that while everyone is in class scrambling to write a paper, I can sit there somewhat smugly with my book.

I take out my iPod and bring up my studying playlist, heavy on piano and light on any other instruments. For some reason, I've always listened to piano when I work. It just makes me calm and helps me focus.

About an hour and a half later, though, my hand is cramping and my head is pounding. I try to look over what I've written, but the words all blur together and it's obvious that I'll have to check it later.

Mrs. Campbell walks out with me, locking up the library and click-clacking down the hall in her heels. She doesn't attempt conversation and for that I am grateful. It's just one of those days where the thought of talking just makes me tired.

She does turn to me when we're outside. "Your parents will be here, right? Or will you be walking home?"

I lick my dry lips. "My parents will be here."

She nods and then turns to her car. I watch as the dark gray car disappears down the slight hill that leads into town. Once I'm alone, I plop down and decide to read a bit of the fantasy novel I picked up in the library.