A Day Of Adoption

Dead.  Empty.  That’s all I’ve been feeling for the past two months.  I didn’t care anymore.  I didn’t have too.  I didn’t need too.  I’d just been so tired.  Too tired to participate in class.  Too tired to even pick up a pencil.  I haven’t told anyone, which is pretty stupid, now that I think about it.  But I didn’t want the pity.  I’ve seen others who’ve lost family members, all those stares they get every day.  Continual concern for their wellbeing is all they got.  It was rare that they got a normal conversation that didn’t start off with – or even contain the phrase ‘are you okay?’ No.  I didn’t want that. 

Someone plopped down on the netted green bench beside me.  I felt a hand on my shoulder and a pair green eyes looked down at me, “You okay Mez? You look a little bit down.” Speak of the devil, I thought grimly.

“Yeah...  fine.” I replied, forcing a smile to my face as I brushed away my long brown hair.  A lie.  I had been telling a lot of those lately.  It wasn’t uncommon, me and lying.  We were very close in our relationship together, even rivalling that of the God of Mischief himself. 

Her kind eyes searched mine, before glancing down at the pamphlets in my hand.

“Oh! So you’re handing those out too?” A change of subject.  Quite helpful.

“Yeah.”

“What area did you get?”

“The courtyard.” I knew my answers were short, but I just wanted this day to end.

“Lucky.  All the cool stalls are there.”

“What about you?”

“The science block.” She said, dismayed.

My mind flickered to something mentioned in assembly, “Aren’t the Year Twelve Chemistry students doing that ice-cream thing?”

See? I was putting in some effort.

“Yeah, but that’s not nearly as interesting as what’s going on at the ancient history exhibit.”

I shrugged, “You can always go later.”

“I s’pose.” She quickly checked her phone, “Well, I gotta go Mezzles.  See you later?”

“Sure.” I could hear it in her voice that she was still concerned, so in a last effort, I slowly said, “No you won’t,” in a manner reminiscent of Andrew Scott’s Moriarty.

I could hear her giggles as she rounded a corner.  That was my friend Sophie.  She was a little on the large side, but that didn’t detract from her beauty.  If anything, I think it enhanced it.

Shifting my jumper, I headed in the opposite direction.  I hated these school jumpers.  I much preferred my comfy baggy one instead of this itchy excuse.

If you hadn’t guessed already, I’m a high-school student, and today was our open day.  It was my fourth time this year.  It was only an hour in and I was already bored.

*

Sophie was right.  The stalls in the courtyard were cool.  The Business and Enterprise students always something new and inventive to sell each year, and one of the Home Economics groups had managed to set up a table.  In fact, I thought as I double-checked my flyers, one of the groups I was promoting.

One of the girls waved me over.  “Hey Mez!”

“Hey Kaylah.” I replied dully, “You’re doing the salt stall?”

“Yeah! Do you wanna take a look?” she asked hopefully.

“I’d love too, but I’ve got to hand these out.” I replied, gesturing to the pamphlets.