Hiding

Chapter 3

Kathleen

September 3, 5:00 a.m.

It's the first day of school.

Or it will be, at least.

I glance over to check my clock to see that there were still three hours left till the start of... a new life.

My new life to be exact.

I wonder if I never get up if they will simply forget I was ever here.

But, of course, there's still one person who has never forgotten about me.

Clara.

I sat up in my bed after I heard my door slam open to see that one person standing in the doorway practically vibrating with excitement. She sprinted over to my bed and proceeded to jump on it and me. She has always been unusually enthusiastic about school, but this could also be extreme nerves and all the emotions trapped in her head.

"Good morning sleepy head! Are you as excited as I am? Because I am thrilled to finally go back to school-" she cuts herself off and turns to me. "Are you going to be okay if you're alone during the day? I know we have our lunch together, but not much else and I just want to make sure there's no need to worry."

I give her a small smile before answering, "Don't spend your time worrying about me Clara, really, I'll be okay. You just have fun, learn, make new friends, and all that stuff. Please, I don't want to have your misery on my consciousness."

She rolls her eyes and lets out a chuckle before nodding her head yes then leaning in to give me a hug, "You know I love you like a sister, right?"

My eyes begin to tear up, but I wrangle them back in, "Yeah, I know. I love you too."

The sad smile returns when she lets go to stand back up she whispers, "I'm glad you do." She comes back to it before walking to the door, "Mom says that you have to be at breakfast this morning or else.

Her final comment makes me laugh more genuinely than I had in weeks because it sounds exactly like something Jackie would say. Though it's also something she would say.

After the door closes, my demeanor shifts back to the normal somber reality.

As my caged tears fight the bars keeping them in, I start getting ready for my day by getting out of bed and going downstairs for my morning meal.

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Stepping out of my room, I could hear the muffled voices from the kitchen of Clara and her parents as well as Louis's small barks waft up the stairs.

When I got midway down the steps, I heard Clara and her dad let out a bellowing laugh at something, I'm assuming, Jackie said. This fact makes me show real smile for the small family.

At least I know they can move on; now to see if I can.

Jackie is the first one who sees me when I reach the kitchen's entrance; her laughter is the first to cease but her smile remains firmly planted on her face. Almost as if she simply refuses to give away any part of herself to her grief; which I know still plagues her mind as it does mine.

The other two follow her is greeting me and gesturing for me to eat the breakfast so carefully prepared by Mateo and Jackie, so I do, and the conversation continues as it was before I came down with just a tad more tension.

They always think they have to watch what they say around me to protect me from my past, but why can't they see that I'm dying trying to simply bury it.

I continue to simply eat and think; not paying any attention to what's happening beyond my own mind.

I guess that's what comes with telling them to not wall my by my first name anymore, but can they blame me.

I don't come out again until my plate is clear and in the dishwasher so I could go back upstairs to get changed and clean. None of them try to talk to me as I do just that.

After finishing up in the bathroom, I change into a simple long sleeved navy blouse with jeans, grab my new backpack already filled with supplies, take a deep breath, and leave the room.

Remember just take it one step at a time; you've completed step one, now for step two.

I feel like I sat on the stoop for an hour before Clara came out with her short blonde hair in perfect waves, a graphic tee, and jeans. She looks like a normal high school girl, but we both know neither of us are.

She sits down next to me as we watch the neighborhood begin to awake before our eyes, "So, you ready to go start a new life?"

Chuckling at the same question she asked before we left Quebec, I look at her and say, "I don't think so, but I'll give it a try."

We both laugh at our reenactment of the final words we said to each other in Canada before we stand up to walk into the start of a new life.

Maybe this really will work. Maybe I can move on from what happened.

Even these words could chase away that feeling telling me it wouldn't be this easy.

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The walk to school was peaceful and quiet, which of course made Clara want to fill in some of the silence with the sound of her music, even if we were there in less than ten minutes.

We were clearly very early seen as the parking lot was practically deserted when we reached the school, except for a few that were probably teachers or administrators.

"Well, I guess we'll have plenty of time to orient ourselves with the school," Clara says as we walk towards the entrance

I simply nod in agreement with her as we enter the large-ish building. It's certainly not a big as my old school.

The inside wasn't bad being colored mostly dark green, white, grey, and some brown-red bricks. The lockers lining the hallways were full length and painted a dark blue. The bulletin boards advertised many activities and clubs.

Clara looked around looking for the office in order for us to drop off some forms and pick up our schedules along with our locker combinations.

On our way there we passed by a small group of people talking by the edge of the hall when I heard someone call out for Clara, "Hey, Clara."

When I turned with Clara to see the origin of the voice, I saw a lighter skinned curvier girl with dark brown hair and hazel eyes and two boys trailing behind her. One boy looked a lot like her and the other was an African American with dark brown eyes and his hair styled in tied back dreadlocks.

I realized it was the girl who had addressed Clara when she said, "Hey, Clara, it's really good to see you again," that's when she turned to me. "You must be Kathleen, we didn't get the chance to meet you the other day. My name's Aubrey and this is my brother, Aaron, and our best friend Devon."