Dark Dreams

FOR MY FATHER

"What excuse do you have for being late today?" asked Mr. Blanc as soon as I crossed the threshold of the Latin room.

"I... so..."

Was it really worth wasting time trying to justify myself?

All the students, who were frantically tapping the keys of their latest-model laptops, looked up at me almost simultaneously.

"Forget it," he said, resting his gaze on the voluminous Latin textbook in his hand. "Sit down quietly. You've already disrupted the lesson enough."

I looked at the only free table at the far end of the room.

Hooray, there was no one sitting there.

I could have some peace, at least for a few hours. I sat down and took an old notebook that I'd had for a couple of years from my bag. I always wrote in pencil so I could erase my notes at the end of the year and reuse the notebook the following year. I always avoided the first page, but I was distracted by that morning's events and I saw it.

A polaroid.

Strange how a simple photo can capture so many feelings in a single image.

It was me - a smiling Sarah unaware of mourning and poverty - and a beautiful girl. Her skin, the color of the finest ebony, glowed on a warm, sunny Blueshore day.

Maya was my best friend.

We were looking at each other, splitting our sides laughing. Her amber-colored eyes shone like two stars, mine were filled with joy.

Every morning I used to thank the universe: a friend is like a sister that you're not forced to love, but choose to every day.

The year my father died, Maya left.

My best friend, my sister, my confidante went away. She'd had enough of the small town where we lived; she wanted to travel the world, discover new cultures.

I never heard from her again.

I ran my finger over the photo.

The only thing that remained of the most important friendship of my life was the bitter taste of disappointment in my mouth.

"Sorry I'm late," said a voice.

I looked up. It was Jay, alone. Once again Dick had decided to skip lessons. I couldn't blame him. Wasting money had to take up a certain amount of time.

"Don't worry, we haven't started yet," said the teacher kindly. "Try to be a little more punctual next time, Mr. Bradford."

Anyone in the pyramid was given preferential treatment.

Pathetic.

Why was Jay coming towards me? I looked around: mine was the only free desk. Before now, fate had never wanted me to sit near him during the lessons. I moved awkwardly to the corner, leaving him as much space as possible.

"Page?" he asked, sitting down.

"Uhhh..." He had never spoken to me. "Well... th-the page? The page, sure... the page?"

Dick had surely told him that I wouldn't be part of their life for much longer.

Jay ran a hand through his hair, which looked as soft as precious silk. His white Calvin Klein sweater moved, following the shape of his chest, which swelled with air as he took a deep breath.

I was hopeless at talking to boys. Maybe I had already annoyed him.

"What page did we get to?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.