The Way We Feel

06: Leila

so i've realized that "social studies" as a class is probably only a canadian thing (i'm canadian lol) and even here it only goes up to gr 11, so i changed it to history. that's basically what socials is lol. but yeah, zach/leila/angela are now doing a history project together.

The mornings were only getting harder.

On the days that Angela was walking to school with her, it was a little less lonely. That only intensified the absence of her dad.

Her mom was still trying to burn through their grief with optimism. Leila didn't think she had quite had her own breakdown yet—she was too busy worrying about her daughters to completely acknowledge the death of her husband.

Really, Leila hadn't fully accepted it. The last few months—when her mom had told her what had happened, the funeral, the memorial service, the endless casseroles, and finally moving across the country—had passed in such a blur that Leila still hoped it wasn't real. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she would wake up in Austin with her blue room and her dog and her dad.

Or maybe she was the story she thought she'd never be: the girl who's dad died in her senior year of high school.

Leila had always seen the world as having a kind of order: at least one really bad thing happened to a family, but once one had happened you were (theoretically) safer from further instances of horror. Leila had been almost morbidly grateful that Angela had gone deaf, because she had thought that was the "thing" that their family would deal with. No death or chronic illness, just a manageable disability.

She didn't see the world like that anymore.

• • •

Tuesday was set up to suck. Leila had an in-class essay in English about a short-story they'd been analyzing, and apparently in History they were about to start a unit (an entire unit) on historical French monuments. Also, she had no clue what was happening in Calculus, and they had a test on Thursday. Then there was French, where her seat had ended up being beside Zach permanently. She didn't think it was an actual rule Mr. Tesuden abided by, but she didn't want to anger any of her other classmates. So far, Sarah was the only friend she'd made. Zach seemed to consider himself one as well, but after his response to Angela, and ASL as a whole, Leila was not inclined to pursue that particular relationship.

In summation, Leila was not feeling it when she stepped into English. The desks were in single-spaced rows, and the essay question was already on them. Leila stretched her hand, preparing for the cramp she'd have for the next hour.

• • •

"That wasn't so bad," Sarah said in relief as the two of them gathered their things. "I barely managed to think of three body paragraphs, though" Leila nodded, knowing that Sarah wasn't only talking to her. She had about five people in her vicinity who she was addressing, all of them funnier and more outgoing than Leila. Leila was just sort of there.

The class left as soon as the bell rang, with varying degrees of success stories ringing from their mouthes. Leila shouldered her bag and made her way to History, where the classroom was somehow almost completely full.

The rest of the class must have been in the room right beside it. She wasn't that slow anymore.

She sat down in her front-row seat, prepared to dodge questions from Mr. Bazedi about the colonization of Austin (honestly—who knew that?) when somebody sat beside her. Zach.