Not That Girl

Chapter 3

Hey! Hope you're enjoying this so far. If you are, I would love if you could leave a comment or a vote to let me know I'm not all alone in this. Wow, that sounded passive-aggressive. Okay, let's just get on with the story.

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Theo offered to give me a ride to school on his way to work this morning. Saved me from waiting at the bus stop in the mid-April cold. Even though we've never been that close, there's been this sort of understanding between us since Mom died. Like an unspoken truce that we were always looking out for each other.

We spend the majority of the trip in silence, but it feels like there's been a whole conversation. Through a series of stolen glances and subtle nods, we've said how are you? and replied fine. Maybe the silver lining of the whole 'dead mom' thing is newfound sibling telepathy. Still, I guess it wouldn't be new considering it's been almost six years since she died.

After a while, he turns on the radio. I'm pretty sure Theo's the only person under 40 who actually listens to the news in the car. The silence between us is now diluted by some middle-aged white guy talking about the weather. I pull my phone out of my pocket and start fiddling around with it. If Theo wants to talk then he will. I just don't want to look like I'm waiting for him to say something about the weather or ask about school. I am. But he doesn't need to know that.

In the ten-minute car ride it takes to get to school, the first words aren't spoken until we're pulling into the parking lot.

"Who's that?"

I glance up from my screen. "Huh?"

Theo takes a hand off the wheel to gesture to the right of the windshield. "That guy waving at you, by the red pickup."

I turn my head to try and see what he's gesturing to. The figure's scarlet letterman jacket almost perfectly matches the faded paint of the old truck he's leaning against. If it weren't for the messy puff of brown hair, he could have blended in with his surroundings. Well, that and the fact one of his lanky arms is waving like a metronome. I raise my hand in reply.

"That's Brayden Ericksen," I answer. Why did I give his full name? It's not like there are multiple boys in my life. Let alone multiple boys named Brayden. "He's in my Geography class."

Theo doesn't bring up the fact that I'm not even taking Geography this year. Probably because he wouldn't be able to tell my schedule from an eighth grader's. All he does is nod as he keeps his eyes locked forward. His usual driving expression of fierce concentration has softened a little. Almost like he's slowly slipping into deep thought whilst still trying to focus on driving. I wonder if my face conveys my thoughts. Those currently being why the hell did I introduce Brayden as a guy from my Geography class. I never really noticed him in that class anyways. Only know his name from our brief encounter in Naylor's room yesterday.

"Have a nice day," Theo mutters when he pulls up to the main entrance. His voice is cold and distant, kind of like he just handed me my groceries and spat out some corporate greeting.

"You too." I sling my bag over my shoulder as I jump out of his dust-smudged white truck. Ridgeview is the type of small town where basically everyone drives a truck, even if they didn't need to. It was just something everyone did and environmental concerns were the last thing on anybody's mind.

The door creaks a bit as I slam it behind me. I debate turning around to wave to Theo as he drives off. I decide not to.

After making my way through the thick glass doors at the entrance, I start towards my locker. There's still 10 minutes until Homeroom so the hallways are still relatively clear. Nothing like navigating through the masses right at 3:00. I always liked getting to school a bit early, even if it didn't happen very often. Usually, I would miss the bus and Theo would have already left so I'd have to ask Olivia for a ride. Then I get the pleasure of listening to a ten-minute lecture on why I should get my drivers license. But I never say anything about it to save myself from the 'You need to give Olivia a chance' talks from Dad that Theo always gets.

By the time I make it to my locker, Peyton's already there waiting for me. She doesn't waste time with greetings or pleasantries before the interrogation starts.

"Why weren't you on the bus?"

"Theo gave me a ride." I begin opening my locker and it decides to actually work with me today. "And good morning to you too."

"But is it a good morning?" she sighs. "Is it a good morning when I had to sit next to some freshman who doesn't own deodorant on the bus today?" She mimes a little shudder as she slams the door to her locker. I think part of why we get along so well is that we both have a flair for the dramatics.

"Poor you." I roll my eyes. I grab my English binder from my unusually cooperative locker before gently closing it. It's in a good mood today and I definitely don't want to do anything to piss it off.

"You know I hate you, right?" Peyton calls. She's already walking down the hall to The Bio Lab. Her homeroom is quite a bit farther than mine and now she's only got a few minutes to make it there before 8:30.

"Love you too," I call after her, silently wishing I could follow. But, I guess I'll have to find a way to live without her until Lunch. It's not that I don't have any other friends, there's just something about Peyton that makes her different.

I think it's the fact that I'm not just 'the girl whose Mom died' in her eyes. In small towns like Ridgeview, everybody knows everybody else's business. Three elementary schools feed into two middle schools which all filter into Ridgeview High. Which means about a third of these kids know what I was like before the accident. They all have this idea of a person that I don't know how to be anymore but they keep wondering when I'm going to go back to normal. It also means that about half these kids heard the intercom announcement asking if Agnes Kennedy would please come to the front office in the sixth grade. Beyond that, it doesn't take much for such big news to spread in Ridgeview. It seemed like the entire town was at our door offering their condolences and some casserole dish covered in tin foil.

The thing about Peyton is that she was almost designed to work with 'Post-Loss Agnes'. She had only moved here two years after the accident, enough time for the chatter to die down a bit. Then, on the first day of high school, our last names threw us together and the rest is history. I like that she was different than the kids whose Moms, that were still alive, told them to be nice to me.

The person I can't quite place is Brayden. He didn't explicitly say anything like I'm so sorry for your loss or How was the tuna casserole? But he didn't look at me like I could break into a million little pieces if he said the wrong thing. Did he just not remember?

I'm pretty sure he's lived here his entire life because when someone new moves to Ridgeview, everybody knows. By that same logic, it's kind of weird that he doesn't remember the incident. If he didn't know me personally, he still should have heard from a neighbour or a friend or the obituary section in the Ridgeview Weekly Tribune.

Well, I guess most kids don't rush downstairs on a Sunday to flip to the obituaries.

On second thought, he probably just didn't recognize me. Must've heard the story a few years back, but didn't make the connection. It's not like Kennedy is a very obscure name or anything.

He's likely figured it out by now. Asked some of his football friends about some girl named Abby who tried to stare him down in Naylor's room. They'd probably figured it out for him and filled him in. That must be why he waved at me in the parking lot. He felt sorry that he treated a girl with a dead mom like a regular human being.

For a few minutes yesterday, I wasn't the special guest at a surprise pity party. I was just the 'That's What She Said Girl'.

I'm not sure that's much of an improvement, but at least it's something.