The Way We Get By

5 // Alex

The bell after seventh period rings and signals to everyone that it's time to go home for the day. My headphones are stuck into my ears within seconds of the bell sounding, and I strut out of my geometry class along with the other rushed students that are desperately trying to go home.

The hallway is crowded and likely noisy, though the sound doesn't bother me as long as I have music blasting in my ears.

"Yo, Alex."

I feel an arm sling around my shoulder and I immediately shrug it off, looking up to see Jason's lanky figure walking next to me as I continue down the crowded hallway.

I take out my left earbud and turn my music down, which welcomes the sound of laughter and chatty students into my ears.

"What's up?"

"Nothin'." Jason shrugs and his arm finally falls away from my shoulders. "Just saw you walking."

"Oh."

I prepare to put my earbud back in when he continues talking, much to my dismay.

"So what's going on with your gallery entry? You finished it yet?"

"I finished the rough sketch. I'm starting on canvas tonight," I respond as we walk out of the school doors, the bitter January air biting at our faces. "I'm really happy with it so far, actually."

My voice lowers down to a more normal pitch once the condensed sound of students spreads out into the open, outside air.

"That's good," Jason says, his mind immediately blown off course with another thought. "Oh—hey! So what about that Madelyn girl? I saw what your brother did last week in chem. That shit was funny."

"I'm glad you think it's funny," I retort as we trudge carefully over the ice-covered sidewalks.

"So is she nice? Is she everything you hoped she would be?"

Part of me really wants to slap him, but the other part of me wants to straight-up cheese about Madelyn. I clench my jaw, though I do it more to suppress a smile than to show my irritation.

"She is really nice. And really sweet. We haven't really talked about anything other than chemistry, though," I inform him, hoping he'll drop the subject.

"Well at least you guys have chemistry," he cackles as we reach his bus.

Before I get the chance to act on my impulse to slap him, he dips onto his yellow bus and disappears into the rumbling machine like chewed-up food down an esophagus.

I pick up my feet once I'm left to walk alone, and I fasten my headphones back into my ears with the music at an abnormally high volume and continue down the sidewalk. The walk back to my house is a relatively short walk, only a few blocks, and within ten minutes of my playlist running, I'm turning onto my street.

The first thing I notice when I round the corner into my quaint little suburb is that my parents are home. I feel a small uneasiness grow inside my gut, though the feeling might be mixed with my ravaging, insatiable hunger for food that I haven't eaten in two days.

My parents' presence is unsettling, though, as they're almost never home when I get out of school. They're always at work, and Angel's always at some kind of sports practice.

For a moment I think it may have to do with Lucy throwing another wooden block at a kid's head (an event that occurred last month, much to the dismay of the poor kid who had to get stitches). But as I walk up my driveway I'm reminded that she's gone, and my heart drops a bit inside of my chest when I remember that she's not coming back.