FLATLINE

Chapter Three; Everything has changed

"I don't see how that's any of your business?" I replied, my eyebrows automatically going up when dealing with people like Christina.

The table went silent for a moment longer, as if contemplating if my answer was good enough. Christina was the first to react, slowly dodging her head to the side and looking at me with unblinking eyes. Her mouth stretched into a sickening smile, reminding me somewhat of Annabelle. "Well, I'm not sure if you can tell, Jenny. But ever since you stepped into this school, people have been treating you like a complete stranger. Do you know why that is?"

People in the cafeteria could clearly sense the tension radiating from the table in the corner closest to the entrance. For a moment, I could swear to be able to distinguish a needle drop amongst the all-too-silent cafeteria. At her question, I just shrugged, finding my voice too strained and, frankly, wimpering.

Her sickening smile seemed to only grow wider. "Why, it's obvious, isn't it guys?" She looked at her protege and Gavin especially for confirmation. Gavin gave off no answer, simply stared at the ordeal outplay before him. Christina focused then her gaze back at me, this time her smile forming into an expression of disgust. "You're kind of a nobody now. Ever since you left, things have worked the way I wanted them to. Now, you stepping into my school so randomly in the middle of the year has to be questioned, right? Because if I recall correctly, you don't exactly seem like the girl you used to be before you left."

I was staring a hole through her head, an in my head it was exploding like fireworks. I had an itching feeling that if I didn't leave the cafeteria sooner rather than later, my clenched fist would connect with her oh-so-perfect galore-face, and a fight would not look very pleasing in my case, especially not on my very first day. Instead of giving into my anger, I took a deep breath and stood up to distract myself. As if she had seen it coming, Christina followed. I looked her in the eyes then, my eyebrows situated as high up as they could go on my forehead. "What do you want, Christina?"

Her hands rested on each hip, and I cursed my life for being the cliche at that point. I should have known she would grow up to be the evil bitch in the movies. "To stay in your lane, of course, and not deter the others who actually have something going for us, from doing our thing. M-kay?"

I had almost expected what had come out of her mouth. My mind started working through possible answers, and suddenly my imagination and creativity came out blank. My cap was safely situated on the table, and instead of replying to her threat I reached down and grabbed it. I knew I shouldn't have listened to her. I knew that, and still her comments went through my mind in a loop, and the worst was that my brain sided with her. I knew I wasn't the same girl I used to be, and she was right. She was so right. What right did I have to come back? To demand all this attention when - in reality - I wanted none of it? To keep a low profile would be easy if I only had to avoid getting in the way of Christina, and if I managed, I probably would go unnoticed by the rest of the school. Keeping my head sown, I shoved the cap back onto my head and stepped away from their toxic table, my miind already going in circles and my legs inching towards each other as I neared the exit.

It wasn't the warmest welcome, but it was a welcome nevertheless. I had expected someone to cut in - Gavin, maybe, since I had shared a conversation with him less that 24 hours before. But nobody did. It was as she said - she ran the school, and if I decided to get in her way, it would be easy for her to squeeze me like an ant.

The worst thing was that I understood why nobody stepped in. I understood why they stood by and watched as the entire scene played out before them as if they came only for the occasion. Every step I took in the hallway felt like defeat, and for every step further I came, it felt like I was abandoning the old me for good. Had I been the brave, nevermind my confident self back there, I would have swept the floor with her. But my mind stopped fighting. My heart had nothing to fight for anymore. Everything around me seemed trivial. All the little things - high school-drama, finding boys attractive (which was not an issue since I stopped watching boys a long time ago), nevermind the entire move here - all trivial, unimportant, and small bugs in the bigger picture.

I was becoming a new person. I was aware of it myself. My entire being felt heavy, but at the same time so empty it felt light. I didn't know what was worse anymore, the heavy parts of life, or the unbearably light ones.

*

At dinner I used to invite him over. My parents loved him the moment they met him. We were young, and we found no difficulty in acknowledging that. My parents would talk and talk and talk about when they were young, before my mom would start asking him about where he shops, and my dad would start asking him about soccer and training. He would ask him to bring me out to practice and we all, even Kevin, would have a good two minute laugh.

At dinner today, my parents were silent. They didn't ask me anything. They knew today was hard just by looking at me and my red, blood-shot eyes. Kevin rambled on about his new class. I was happy he was making friends so fast. He was too young to remember when we had lived here. His eyes would excitedly look between mom and dad on the oppsite side of the two of us, and he would drop his fork down to illustrate something funny they did in class animatedly.

It wasn't that I wasn't happy for him. I was. But the cloud bringing the storrm over my head kept bringing my mood down, and I kept going back to old memories I had back in Chicago. Back with him.

I was happy my parents didn't ask, because I would be too embarassed to tell them about the day's events. At this stage, I would think they would move anywhere to lift my mood. Anywhere but Chicago, that is.

I lay on my bed devouring a book in the evening when Kevin opened my door without knocking. It was a thing he did, and it had gone pretty badly sometimes when I was back in Chicago with him. He walked in on us making out on my bed once, and as panicked as he was, his entire body collided with the wall beside my door when he was taking desperate measures to get out of the room as wuick as lightning. We had laughed about that for ages.

He stood at the end of my bed, and I raised a questionary eyebrow at him. "Could you ask dad about something for me?"

My eyebrow was still raised. "'bout what?"

"There's this girl in my clas... Melody. She's having a girls night and there were some boys in class who wanted to go there. You know, crash there. And they asked me to come along!" His eyes searched for a reaction on my face, and I sent him a deadpanned look. "Please! They always say yes to you! Just say I wanna go out with some of my friends."

"And why can't you just say that to them?"

"Because, they don't feel bad for me. They feel bad for you. They're happy if you open your mouth at all."

And again, for the second time that day, somebody on the outside had pointed out the complete obvious. Thoughts abbout my parents and their worried selves constantly went through my mind, and the fact that an eight-year-old could point it out seemed just about enough to draw a line. "Kevin, I can't use thatagainst them. You're on your own."

He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, his left foot stomping my fluffy white carpet. "But it's so unfair!"

"Goodbye, Kev." I dismissed, already going back to the book at hand. I heard him huff all the way out of my room, and suddenly I found myself feeling bad yet again. I wondered when that would ever stop.