Never Truly Forgotten

Chapter I

All Rights Reserved @ pulseinpages 2017

*** 

        Fall Out Boy blares into my ears as I bounce my knee up and down, the ripped fabric of my skinny jeans tearing a bit more with each movement. I see Dad glance at me from the corner of my eye but my eyes remain fixated outside the window. 

        A few strands of my brown hair fall on my face at I look down at my phone, and I push them behind my ear as I scroll through my playlist, well-aware of the number of questions going through Dad's head, none making their way past his lips.   

         About seven minutes later, I'm halfway through an Ed Sheeran song when I hear my father clear his throat. I turn my head to look at him and he runs a hand through his hair. "So," the car skids to a stop at a red light, "how are you feeling about going to a new school?" 

"The same way I always feel about going to school," I reply, "Miserable and annoyed." 

        He laughs and I turn my head to the other side, hiding the small smile that made its way on my face, "I don't blame you, but hey, it's your last year. You can pull through." 

"Yep." I mumble as the light turns green and the car begins moving. 

           I glance at him, heart clenching as I see the smile from earlier still etched on his face. Even though our relationship has been bumpy recently, I'm grateful to see him happy because honestly, seeing him a little less worried and sad makes my mood turn somewhat calm and easeful. 

            "—classes started a week back so you have stuff to catch up to. I'm sure there would be people willing to help you if you have any problems. You've always been good at making friends. Don't worry about getting lost on the first day or anything—" 

           "Dad," I interrupt, "I'm seventeen." I put extra stress on the last word, as if that'll magically make him stop treating me like I was still that seven-year old kid crying at the park because I lost sight of my parents. 

          He never let it go, obviously, so I know what he's gonna say next— because he always says that. 

             "You're still my little princess." 

     For a moment, I feel like nothing's changed. Like I was still that daughter that never failed to bring the biggest smile on my Dad's face, like I was still that daughter my Mom always saved an extra piece of cake for, like I was still that si— 

            I manage to tone down my bitter laugh to a soft scoff. Who am I kidding? Everything had changed.

       "Princesses don't have blood on their hands." I mumble under my breath. Dad doesn't hear it.

           "Okay, we're here." He says instead, and pulls into the school's parking lot. As I'm about to get out of the car, he calls my name and I pause. "I, um, I'm going to your mother's today."

         "Oh," I give him a blank look. "Okay." 

                "Look, I know you both are not on good terms at the moment and we just moved towns so everything's new for you, but I need to— " 

             "I understand, Dad."  I say, "Have a safe trip."

    With that, I grab my backpack from the backseat and exit the car. 

***  

"Hi!"

        I jerk to the left when I hear a voice beside me. Turning, I see a short girl with blue eyes staring at me with a huge smile on her face. Her blonde hair is tied into a high ponytail and she's wearing a white skirt and a loose wrap around white tank top. "You're Natalia, right?" 

     "Uh, I— yeah, that would be me." 

     "I'm Cierra. I'm supposed to show you around and stuff." She does a weird gesture with her hand and I nod. "Okay, what class do you have first?" 

       "I think it was Physics or something, I don't remember exactly." I pull out the bunch of papers I was given and could only blink as Cierra snatches it from my hands. Her eyes begin skimming through the words and then she looks at me, her blue eyes practically sparkling. 

       "We have first period together!" She exclaims, "Oh, and you have AP History first. Do you wanna go to your locker or .. ?" 

         "I'm fine." I say with a small smile, fixing the backpack straps on my shoulders. I know my original plan was to avoid everybody and everything that doesn't particularly concern me, but maybe one friend wouldn't be so bad. 

          "Great. Let's get to class." With that, she hooks out arms together and we begin walking towards the class, Cierra talking animatedly about everything and anything. I nod my head every once in a while, not really paying attention to be completely honest, but Cierra looks so into it with all her wild hand gestures and grin that I can't bring myself to tell her to stop. 

         That's why, when she abruptly stops, pulling me back because of our arms, I turn my head to frown at her. But her eyes are staring straight ahead, her lips slightly parted. I follow her gaze and see a guy taking out books from his locker.      

             The t-shirt he's wearing is stretched across his chest, accenting his broad shoulders. His dark hair is a tousled mess atop his head, and his grey eyes are fixed on the phone in his hands, his eyebrows knitted together. 

Okay, correction— an attractive guy. 

   I clear my throat, making Cierra snap out of her reverie. "Looks like someone has a crush." I say in a sing-song voice, grinning at the way she looks away, cheeks tinting pink. 

      "Oh shut up," She mumbles, "I don't like Aiden." She says, slowly as if she's trying to convince herself more than me. I know she's lying— her longing eyes might've given her away— but I know better than to push it since she's basically the only person I remotely know around here. 

      "Sure." I say instead, watching as 'Aiden' presses his phone to his ear, walking away clearly oblivious to me and Cierra's attention. 

She narrows her eyes at me before saying, "We're getting late. Let's get to class." 

        Before I can reply, the shrill ringing of the bell is heard and then she's pulling me through the sea of students, babbling about how boring Mrs. Bishop's class is. We enter the half-empty class, taking out seats in the back, near the window. After a few minutes, the final bell rings and class starts. 

        What Cierra had said seemed to be true as only minutes later, I found myself talking with the said blonde in hushed whispers, matching grins on our faces as the fifty-something years old teacher continues unceasingly droning on and on about something that happened way before I was born and will most probably never use in the future.   

        As Cierra swoons at how "incredibly hot" the guy sitting in front of us was, I shake my head, laughing silently as to not get caught when a thought goes through my head. 

Maybe .. Maybe a fresh start was what I needed all along. 

*** 

A/N: Please note that English is not my first language, so there will be mistakes! Thank you for reading. Votes and comments are appreciated.