Dear Zoe Murphy

Apples (Part One)

Im finally back woah.
Zoe's POV
The week went by too quickly for Zoe to even notice what was happening. It all felt foreign and alien to her. The ride to school felt long and awkward, art class was a chore. She skipped dinner once more because of the nerves, but this time she pocketed the money. It'd come back to bite her in the back, but she would've done anything to not get in trouble. Her mom was working late every day that week anyway, so it wasn't like she would have noticed anyway. But don't worry, Zoe wasn't starving herself. She made sure to have breakfast and lunch, but something really light for dinner. If she ate anything too heavy, she'd explode. Many times she had wondered if it was possible to eat so much that her stomach would explode. Little Zoe had asked her mom on more than one occasion. It made sense, your stomach was only so big and eventually it'd get so full it'd explode, like a water balloon, in her mind. Her mom had to explain to her that no, stomachs were not like water balloons, and before your stomach was too full, either you'd get diarrhea or you'd vomit. It was a relief to hear her say that.
Evan didn't come to school at all the rest of the week. Would he just never come again? Or maybe he moved schools or they were home schooling him now. No, that'd be weird. Would it still be acceptable to be home schooled for the first time just before he went off to college?  He needed time to grieve. That's it. He'd be back in no time. He had already missed an entire week of school, it would've been pretty bad for him to miss another week. At their school, their grades were heavily impacted by their attendance. However, getting to class late was worse than missing an entire day, which was pretty weird, but nobody ever questioned it.
Zoe was a mess on Friday. She wore something nicer, because she knew that the Hansen's were filthy rich. Well.
Filthy rich was maybe a little too much, but they were rich nonetheless. She had seen Evan's Instagram stories. This summer he went to Israel. The pictures were almost to good to be taken by a teenager. Anybody who followed him got little glimpses of his life. Sometimes family dinners, visiting his grandparents, his vacations. Just looking at him you could tell he was wealthy. His shoes were nice, his book bag wa s
Alana was gone at lunch. She said that she was helping a teacher out for extra credit, which Zoe believed. Alana would've killed a man if it meant increasing her grade. Her average at the end of sixth grade was a 103.87. Zoe's was a 100.04. Never had she been more jealous of somebody. In fact, Zoe barely saw Alana that week. She'd get little glimpses of her, but she'd always disappear almost as soon as Zoe tried to approach her, and Zoe knew that it wasn't just a coincidence. She didn't let it get to her though. She knew that Alana didn't like her, but she was her family friend, and that still counted for something. Zoe was her only friend too, she just wouldn't admit it.
She was out of it the entire day. She was there in class, but she wasn't really there. She knew her teacher was talking, but she had no idea what she was saying. She walked through the halls but it was like her shoes never touched the floor. It was kind of like she was watching everything happen from a distance.
She went home straight after school, dread filling her stomach. In the end, she had to be at 8260 Maple Avenue at 6PM for dinner. It was 3:15. Two hours and forty five minutes until she ruined everything.
She was really starting to doubt Alana's plan. The Hansens weren't stupid. They'd be able to see right through her, and then they'd figure out a way to ruin her life and she'd have to change her name and leave the country.
Zoe tried to do her homework, but she ended up half-assing it all. Did she care enough to correct it?
No.
She was a junior and already she was feeling senioritis taking its toll on her. Her grades were already pretty good, one bad homework wouldn't kill her.
She tried meditating, she tried reading, she did anything in her power to help herself calm down, but it only seemed to make her feel worse.
At 5:30, she hauled ass out of her house and took the bus to the Hansens house. She wore a purple t-shirt and overalls, then converse. She even pinned her hair back to make herself look a little bit nicer than usual. She looked down at her cast while she rode the almost empty bus. She traced the five letters over and over again. A woman on the bus with a little boy was looking at her funny the whole ride, which made Zoe fidget and want to hide into a hole and never be seen again. As soon as she got at the stop, she felt like her stomach was going to explode, even though she hadn't eaten anything in the past couple of hours. She felt a lump in her throat, her face heating up and her palms getting sweaty.
Now wasn't the time to be freaking out, so she tried her hardest to push down all the bad feelings she had about this and took a deep breath.
Just smile and nod. Don't make anything else rang in her head. She could picture Alana telling her what to do. Jesus. It would've been 100 times more easy if she had like a mini Alana on her shoulder that made her every move for her. She'd be so much better off like that. A girl could only dream.
8260 Maple Avenue was located at the end of a cul-de-sac. Zoe noticed that it seemed as though nothing was ever happening inside houses, even though most of our lives happened in there. The house stood there peacefully.
There was a stone path leading up to the front door. Surrounding it was lush grass with bushes and brightly colored flowers and trees looming over Zoe. They seemed scary, almost.
There were brown clapboard walls with what looked like stone shingles, a darker shade of brown. There were at least four large windows on every floor, usually under triangular ceilings.
There were three steps leading up to the brown front door. There were two marble pillars on either side of the steps, then a porch coming out from the pillars. The house was gorgeous, and gigantic. Her house was like, not even half the size of their house. Zoe could almost picture Clara coming home to this place every day. She'd stomp up the stairs and slam the door closed, then stomp up the stairs to her room and slam the door yet again.
She could picture Evan coming home to this place every day, too. He'd open the door and close it gently, he'd get a snack, he'd go up to his room to do homework, and then he'd go out to his backyard, post something on Instagram, then maybe he'd garden or read. Zoe was not a stalker.
It took her a long minute to compose herself. She wiped her sweaty hands on the leg of her overalls and took a deep breath. She could do this. Smile and nod. She couldn't stay here for so long, she'd say her mom wanted her home before it was too late.
She knocked on the door three times, then stood there straight, trying to make herself seem as perfect and confident as possible.
The door swung open.
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Word count: 1376
This took me forever to write and it isn't even that good Jesus Christ. Okay so anyway. I FINALLY finished school last week an thank god i did. I will be writing more in this story I promise. Next chapter is where shit really goes down. Thanks for reading!
-Margaret