C H A P T E R E L E V E N
Zach's P.O.V.
"Zachary Riley West, what on earth happened to your face?" my mom demanded as I got into the car.
I sighed at her use of my full name through her slightly angered words. That always meant she wanted to make a point clear.
"Nothing, Mom," I reassured, pulling the hood of my jacket over my head in an attempt to conceal the black and blue bruises that now surrounded my left eye.
"Don't lie to me," she replied firmly. She most certainly seemed angry at me.
Yep, she was definitely pissed.
"Can I tell you later?" I asked, and then whispered, "Hayleigh would probably get upset."
I tried not to say it loud, because Hayleigh was right behind me in the back seat. Being the inquisitive seven year old she was, she'd ask a lot of questions that I wouldn't want to answer. Plus, I hadn't made up an excuse for when my mom would ask, because I honestly forgot about the punch to the face.
After a moment or two of silence, I heard her respond, "Okay, but please make sure you tell me the absolute truth. Nothing less."
I nodded, clearly not wanting her to worry. It's not every day that I come home with a large bruise on my face and pain shooting through my ribs. The pain subsided quite a bit, but it was still noticeable.
I entwined my fingers in my lap, squeezing them together a bit. Honestly, I was nervous about telling my mom about the fight. She'd get extremely protective over me, and would want me to always have supervision. I don't need someone constantly watching me just because I'm blind.
I'm not helpless.
"Promise?"
"I promise," I committed, not wanting to lie. One thing about me is that I'm a horrible liar, and both my parents see through my false claims like a flawless sheet of glass.
"Hi Zach!" Hayleigh's high pitched voice squeaked from the back seat. "Are you okay?"
I almost forgot she was in the car. She was being so quiet.
"Hi, Hayleigh!" I exclaimed, forcing positivity into my voice. "Yes, I'm okay, thank you."
Hayleigh can be so caring and sweet. I feel like I don't deserve a little sister like her, and she's literally the best.
"Your eye looks puffy," she noted when I turned around. "And a bit blue."
"Don't worry about it," I retorted gently, giving her an almost genuine smile.
Great. Now my face was swollen and it probably looks like I'm part Cabbage Patch Kid. There was no way Mom would believe any lie I put towards her. That's just wonderful.
The rest of the ride home was fairly quiet besides the occasional comment from Hayleigh about her day at school. I tried to continue her conversation, and engage my mom into it, to keep her focus off my condition. When there's something wrong with me, she worries about it nonstop. I know that part of it is because I'm blind, but there's more to me than that.
When the car pulled into the driveway and after it had stopped, I pulled the interior door handle open and stepped out, the rumbling of the engine stopping as it was powered off. I reached for my book bag and put it over my shoulder, striding towards the front door.
I heard Hayleigh's footsteps fly by me as she burst through the front door, throwing her backpack onto the ground with a thud. With a chuckle, I followed her inside, only to be stopped by my mom's voice.
YOU ARE READING
Peripheral Vision | ✓ [NOW PUBLISHED AS HUNTINGTON AVENUE]
Teen Fiction*~*~* REWRITTEN AND PUBLISHED AS HUNTINGTON AVENUE ON MY PROFILE *~*~* Zachary West has it all. Near-perfect grades, a kind, loving family, and is a guitar prodigy. Seems like a wonderful life, right? Most good things come with at least one catch, t...